#idk where im going with this. it is certainly off topic.

[orcelito]

I love how my reading of Japanese has transformed from filling in every kanji with a mental "??" To filling in Most with the mental "??" But then im like OH that one is Tsuki for moon! Or kawa for river! Or sei that they use in sensei and gakusei (what it actually means idk lol)

月川生 just a small sample of kanji I have been genuinely learning

[leclerced]

Heyyy hope you have a good day, i come bearing new thots

Credit where credit’s due, the idea is an old and deleted roger Taylor fic and not from me.

HOWEVER. Im now obsessed with this scenario with either lando or oscar (ill let you choose <3)

Roommate!AU !!!

Imagine you’re friends and roommates with lando or oscar and he has to study for his upcoming biology exam at uni. The topic? Female reproductive organs🤭

He just genuinely struggles with understanding the anatomy of a vagina and that picture in his damn book is absolutely not recognisable.

And since him and reader are friends and she doesn’t think thoughts all the way through she offers him to look at hers. I mean hes seen her shirtless a million times its nbd.

And staring at her beautiful pussy really does help him - to an extend. Hes so into his studies he doesn’t really process that he asked her „can i touch it??“ and she just goes along with it bc it’s already lowkey awkward and theres no turning back now.

She tries to not make it more awkward by suppressing her moans when his finger brush over her clit all while hes just identifying parts with his thoughts oblivious to what he does to her.

And she cant keep in the moan when he pushes his fingern in and suddenly he realises what hes doing. But he sneakily keeps going until she cums and hes trying his best to keep up the ignorant act bc shes js too hot like that😩

Got damn it i need a full length version of this fic again 😭

-🫀

i want to write a full length version omfg this is incredible!!! pictured oscar immediately. kinda set in like the early 2000s in my head bc i wanted to mention dvd rentals One Time and that's not a thing anymore but that's the world i grew up in LMAO

sorry i like got too into this at first and forgot i made plans to game with my friend and rushed the ending im sorry. added read more bc it's just over 1k <3 i think i like this a lot other than the ending idk . lmk what u think i hope it meets the expectations set by the original

reader thinks oscar's an innocent idiot but he just probably shouldn't be in medical school because while he can find the clit, he certainly doesn't know the name of it.

Her roommate has been staring at the same page for half an hour, they're seated on opposite ends of the couch, leaning against the arms and facing each other. She has a Stephen King novel leaned on her propped up knees and Oscar has an open textbook balanced on one thigh and a notebook open to a blank page on the other. After another frustrated sigh leaves him, she drops her book on the coffee table and leans over to see what he's looking at. She almost laughs when she sees the miniature sketch of a vagina, "You know, the DVD rental place down the street has rated X movies."

Oscar snorts, "I'm trying to work, leave me alone. I'm supposed to learn all the anatomical names of a vagina, but the only drawing I have is in this stupid book."

She leans in further to the diagram and hums, "That's a horrible diagram, no wonder you're getting nothing done. How old is that that textbook?" He shrugs and stretches back over the arm of the couch, "Probably like thirty, the professor wrote it himself and he's ancient."

Her eyes get pulled to his hips as he reaches behind his head and groans, his shirt lifting the slightest to reveal soft skin before he drops his arms back down. She licks her lips as she directs her gaze up to his face, "I could show you mine, if you want." The swift inhale Oscar makes is audible, he keeps his gaze locked on the books in his lap as he says, "Really?" Instead of verbally agreeing, she just scoots back to where she was leaning moments before on the arm of the couch and shimmies her shorts down before she can think twice. She giggles at the look on Oscar's face as she kicks the shorts off her ankles and he takes in the sight of her panties, lacy and red. "Are you sure?"

She shrugs and teases, "Well it's not like they have 3D models. I'm sure, I wouldn't have offered otherwise. Are you sure?" He nods slowly and she tugs her panties down her thighs and smirks at the blush that creeps up his cheeks as she drops them on his lap. She doesn't know where the sudden confidence has come from, but she feels no shame as she opens her legs to him. She drops one foot to the floor and the other lifts to rest on the back of the couch. Oscar holds her eye for a moment before she watches his gaze drift down her body and he starts to lean in before pausing, "Can I get closer?" She nods at his question and answers, "As close as you want." Oscar lurches forwards, knocking the forgotten textbook to the floor as he fumbles to grab his pen and notebook to take notes.

She can't read his chicken scratch handwriting, so whatever he's scrawling about her pussy is undecipherable to her as she watches him analyze her. She's trying not to think about how this could be weird, how it is weird to offer to let your roommate use you as an anatomy dummy. It's not really the first time. He's done other things, like when he needed to practice IVs so she let him give her a banana bag the next time she was hungover. She liked teasing him about it, calling him Doctor Piastri when she let him listen to her heart with his stethoscope. Or when she comes down with a cold and she calls him into her room to diagnose and treat her, and he brings her cold medicine and soup from the deli down the street.

She's pulled out of her thoughts when he clears his throat and she meets his eyes before she hums quizzically. The pink tint that had spattered his cheeks turns into a bright red as he asks, "Can I touch you?"

She almost thinks she didn't hear him correctly, but there's no way he could have said anything else, so she tries to joke, "So you're a hands on learner, then?"

Oscar quickly counters, "Yeah, do you mind?"

It's her turn to lose her breath as she stupidly nods and blushes as she takes in the realization that he's about to touch her pussy. In the name of science, she agrees, "No, go ahead." Then, his hand is on her pussy and his focus is entirely on the space between her legs as he spreads her lips apart and she has to close her eyes and force her mind to other places as he tilts his had interestedly. She wishes she could stop her body from reacting to his touch, but she can't. Not when he pulls back the hood of her clit, she hears him writing something, then there's a soft pressure on her clit and she has to bite the inside of her cheek to not react. She tells herself not to make any sounds so it won't be weird, he's just trying to study, he's not doing anything to her really.

She can feel the wetness build under his fingers as he slips them down to her entrance and back up. She hears Oscar mutter something but she can't make it out over the blood rushing through her head as he presses his fingers back against her clit. "Is this... The labia?" The laugh she lets out is half a moan, "That's the- clit. Labia are the lips." He dips his fingers down and pinches one lightly, "This?"

She's somehow endeared by the curiosity, and sighs, "Yeah. That. Minora. The outer one is majora."

Oscar lets out a little huff, "How do you know the names? You're not even taking anatomy." His fingers find her clit again, this time lightly pinching it, and her thighs tense as he mumbles, "Clit." She hears his pen scratching across his paper and then dips his finger down to her entrance and presses inside. She wonders what he's thinking as he slowly thrusts his finger in and out of her, his other hand still writing on the paper. It's not until he slips a second finger inside of her and curls them as he suddenly presses his thumb to her clit that she breaks her silence, a whimper falling from her lips as the unexpected pleasure hits her. She somehow doesn't realize then that this isn't his first time like she thought when she saw the surprised look on her face. Then she flutters her eyes open and immediately realizes it because he's already looking up at her, a cocky smirk playing on his lips. She gasps, "You- you didn't really need help, did you?"

He shrugs innocently, "I still don't know the names, could you remind me?" She can't tell if he's being serious or not as he quickens his thumb on her clit and she's saved from responding as he pushes up her body and presses his lips to hers hungrily.

[rat-cigars]

Damn Bitch You live like this?

masterlist

(a/n: hope you guys enjoy this one! This is really where our main plot will start to form, now that theres some romance goin around. Please be aware this chapter is 18+  there will be more triggering topics due to mental deterioration from Ed, please take care of yourself and make sure to read the warnings! Im really excited to see where this goes and i might even add a triangle soon…? Perhaps a billionaire? Either way dat boi is gonna be in this ) 

*= Edward POV)

**= Reader POV)

(TW: religious images, blood, alluded sensuality, drinking, idk party stuff, kidnapping talk )

Possible Spoilers in this chapter

Afab!Reader (she/her) pronouns

WC: 2152

Chapter 5 : A Big Night

*Ron was right, what was stopping you? You didn't have another commitment, certainly not in this god forsaken city. Aside from that, he seemed kind. Definitely a little weird but it was charming and his voice sounded like the trumpets from heaven, especially when they said your name. Your name flowed so effortlessly off of the tip of his tongue, nearly sending you into a heart attack the first time he said it. 

This was still crazy though, just a random nerd blowing into your hotel. And all those mysterious bags he kept bringing certainly didn’t help his case. But was it really your place to call someone odd? I mean sure he wasn’t the most alpha chad man this world had to offer, but did that make him weird? You pondered these questions and a lot more as you had continued to set up for the mixer tonight. 

While setting up the bar area you heard a soft tap on the countertop, you had been looking down and removing all the built up dust and dried out beer. But as you looked up, you could’ve died on the spot, seeing him leaned over the bars top his hair shagging a little in front of his forehead. 

Nervously pushing up his glasses, his green eyes connected with yours. 

“H-Hey.. uh.. can we talk..” As soon as those three words fell from Patrick’s lips you sighed. You still hadn’t formally invited him, even 2 hours after your little incident. “Yeah, of course.” You tried your best to hide the faint fear behind your voice and set down your rag. It was getting closer to the party but this was the last set up, then all you had to do was change. It was gonna be a bit dressier for the occasion. 

Ron had decided to celebrate the hotel's 40 years anniversary on a whim, calling everyone he could and inviting them over. Most people agreed so it would be a little crowded tonight, plus whoever blew in from the longer across the street. 

Taking your attention from the event tonight you shifted your gaze to Patrick’s. He was looking out of the window as you both walked to the edge of the courtyard, the city's lights illuminated his glasses upon his face. Then he finally spoke. 

“I have to tell you something..” he looked down as he spoke, avoiding your gaze for a moment. You felt your heart beating faster than a motor. “Y-Yeah..?” You replied you couldn’t help but feel heat cross your cheeks. 

** Edward looked down to you, watching your movements carefully. In his mind he was trying to formulate what to say to you. He pondered telling you how he felt but ultimately decided against it. 

The downside of not saying this though is that he would feel guilty if he actually lied to his angel. His sun and moon, the reason he woke up everyday. So he chose to go with a little diversion of the truth, at least in his mind. It was still lying technically but he had justified it to himself already. 

“My names actually Edward..” He almost regretted saying it immediately, He could end up in real trouble just from that alone. But she didn’t know his full name so he assumed it would be mostly useless. 

He watched your face contort into a little bit of surprise but it wasn’t anything bad. You sighed in relief and smiled, running your hand through your hair. “Oh.. that’s probably EN.” You smiled at him, relaxing your body more now. “Cute, I like that name.” You mused chuckling. 

“I think it fits you better..” you trailed off looking down. 

Ed felt like he was glowing, you really had no clue what he was doing or who he really was. It almost scared him a little how you had reacted so minimally, but you had no reason to react differently. “Edward..” his ears perked instantly as you said it, feeling his heart warm at just the sound. “Yes?” He turned to you. 

*“Would you like to come to the mixer tonight.. it’s just for Ron’s pals and the hotel's anniversary.” You looked away at the end. “It’s the least I can do to thank you, and I’ll even get you free bottle service for the night.” 

Surprisingly Ron had shelled out quite a bit extra to get good strong liquor, beers and basically anything with an ABV% on the outside.

 You were a little surprised to learn of his real name but it didn’t mean a lot to you, hell he wasn’t a bad guy.

From what you’d seen you were sure he quite literally couldn’t hurt a fly. 

He had agreed to join you with a smile and a “hell yeah.” From him. You nodded and turned to face him again, “Meet me at the front around 3:30?” You smiled, and he nodded. “3:30, got it.” He smiled and turned leaving to get ready and after you finished the bar you did the same running quickly to the room Ron had given you to get ready. 

You had taken quite less time than you had thought, still having a few minutes to play on your phone before you headed out to wait at the front. For this event you had decided to dress in a delicate two piece. It wasn’t like the trashy club girl style but more refined and elegant. 

The shade was a deep ocean blue to match your eye makeup from earlier. Adorning your ears and neck were a pair of small gold hoops and a matching chain with your initial at the end. It had been a graduation gift from your mother at the end of high school. 

You pucker your lips in the mirror finishing off with a light clear gloss and headed down, walking to the front. It had been dressed up with fresher curtains, a new non- stained rug was spread across the floor adorned with lights falling from the ceiling. 

Ron’s really out done himself this time..  

You thought and stared around the hotel's areas. It was much nicer than you’d ever seen it, almost a miracle. There was no way Ron had set up this desolate space in such a warm and inviting way. You sat down behind the desk with your faux, white fur coat dangling off your body and past your black heels.

** Edward was upstairs in his room working on an outfit. He struggled to find clothing that would fit the fancier attire but ultimately pulled together a pair of black slacks, and some suede shoes to match. 

During his search he’d also found one of his old dressier shirts from a few years ago, just a plain gray slick top and a belt. That’s what he’d put together in about 20 minutes and after he'd made sure to hairspray any fly always down, he started his walk down the hallway to the front, pausing to take the elevator door. 

Ed walked in pressing to the lobby and his heart was rushing so fast he could barely contain it in his own chest. He felt like he might pass out if he didn’t get a drink soon to calm his nerves. 

Edward wasn’t much of a drinker but it sure helped him calm down. Once the ding! When the doors went off he took a deep breath and collected himself, but nothing could’ve prepared him for what he saw when the doors had opened.

He almost started crying at the beautiful sight of the room, the reds and golds reflecting off your deep toned dress. The brightness in your eyes as you laughed at one of Ron’s jokes about the hotel's original owner.

You were talking to Ron behind the counter before Edward walked over to take you as his.. date? He didn’t know what you’d call it but he knew he was gonna have a great time. You had smiled up at him , noticing his cleaned up look and you were at a loss for words. “E-Edward?” You stuttered out so cutesy. He could see your cheeks turn pink and the thought of him making you blush from looking at him like this made him almost regret wearing his slacks. 

But nonetheless he reached down to gently take your hand, kissing the top of your manicured hand. “You look amazing..” Was all he could say before you giggled nervously at his kiss. “Edward.. you look fucking amazing too..” you smiled a genuine, loving smile to him. 

He knew for sure at that moment above all else he had to have you one way or another. Before it was a silly crush but now it had blown into a full obsession, he always had you in the back of his mind. The fact that you had even invited him seemed insane enough on its own. 

He couldn’t hold back his first big grin at you, finally showing teeth when he smiled. You gently looped your arm into his and looked a little nervous still. “Is this okay..?” You asked softly and messed with the fur on your coat. He silently nodded and to show some interest he gently placed his hand upon your arm and looked around his own. “Would you like to get a drink?” He asked, walking towards the crowded room. It was probably the most full she had seen in years. 

*You agreed and as you walked over ordering your drinks you accidentally bumped into a larger man. He’d already had a drink of his own and from your contact with his shoulder it had spilled a little not only on you but also on his suit. “Shit I’m so sorry, I-“ you were cut off as you looked up after leaning to get the glass off the ground. “B-Bruce Wayne..” You managed to stutter out, shocked he would show up to a place like this. It seemed that no one else had quite noticed him at the time but in reality, Bruce was actually trying to get away from the crowd.

Edward watched from beside you and felt a pain of jealousy in his chest watching you two. “It’s Perfectly fine Miss..?” He trailed off, his voice was huskier than you remembered. “Y/n” you met his icy gaze from beside Edward. Bruce repeated your name back and then you had offered to get him some towels to which he declined politely. “I look forward to our next interaction,” you smiled bashfully to Bruce. “And I won’t spill a drink on you.” She said the last part was quieter. Bruce looked and gave a courtesy nod, “Of course, Did Ron tell you?” He asked. 

“Tell me what?” You mused furrowing a brow.

“Well between you and me,” Bruce leaned in, “I’ve offered him 5k a month to rent out the most exclusive HoneyMoon Room.” You gasped and couldn’t hold back your shock as he had told you. 

Suddenly Edward let out an awkward cough next to you two still talking. You waved Bruce off after thanking him and continued with Edward, he felt stiffer now though. The green flicker behind his eyes was evident in his darting glances from you.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” He asked, suddenly leaning towards you as he held his drink in the other hand. You laughed and declined, “Edward we just got here.” You giggled. “At least stay for a little while? Then we can go..” you blushed about to say his room. But you couldn’t just invite yourself over like that.

Ed agreed through a silent nod and smile. “Alright, how about an hour?” You asked and he nodded. He watched as you went to socialize meeting some of Ron’s old friends from college, happy

. But he couldn’t help the burning inside his stomach from the anger of Bruce Wayne. What had he said to you? Who was he to corrupt Edwards Angel? He was silent in thought as he watched you and continued to down shots at the open bar.

[oblicornis]

no bitches behavior below

i bought some batman/robin comics second-hand from a con i was at a few months ago (just because they were there and there weren't that many). i finally finished reading them all..... i can see now why they were on sale......

im JOKING kind of. well. they weren't bad-bad but they didn't blow my mind either. i do not understand the hype around batman: year one (frank miller) for example but who knows maybe i'll change my mind after reading some other comics. maybe it's a relative thing. loved the art though i loooove the inking in it im such a sucker for some INK.

i saw that the nolan's dark knight films drew some influence from it and, now don't shoot me, i did not enjoy the films. outside of some iconic quotes they just did not appeal to me. but that's another topic. i noticed reeves' the batman also drew inspiration from here and i LOVE that film so the stuff here isn't all that bad. it was just that "jim has a wife named barbara" set us on the wrong foot.

anyway year one's writing felt very weird to me i was picking up vibesTM. like girl wtf was this quote it made me laugh. but like it also read to me as very "wOmeN dON't aCT lIKe WOmeN anyMORe" but im willing to assume good faith and that wasn't the intention. still really silly to me

i have more bad than good to say about this book but i don't? hate it? it's hard to explain. i think im waiting for something to compare it to, something that makes me go "SEE! now THIS is good!" and im REALLY new to comics so i'll just move on now

i also read the following robin comics: days of fire and madness, wanted, teenage wasteland and the big leagues.

shamefully my interest in batman/batfam was piqued through fanon stuff but i did go in knowing fanon tim and canon tim are very different. i came away from this experience thinking tim is a bit of a fuckboy (im JOKING again but i think that's so funny). im also aware im missing a lot of context but ANYWAY

there were moments that gave me a laugh but i hated days of fire and madness (willingham) for this alone it was ickyyyyyyy everything that had something to do with von hammer i did not like. and i did not care for these characters or whatever tim was trying to do (i think he was undercover? this is where the missing context comes in. maybe if i had whatever came before this book... idk)

i mainly did a lot of studying of how fanon tim compares to canon and this tim is such a little stinker it makes me laugh so hard howwww do you get demure and shy and apologetic out of this guy.

other random notes: im sad i wasn't properly introduced to the infamous fake uncle like sure i saw him but i bet actually reading how that came to be would be hilarious.

also this girl...... certainly faring better than jason pffft. i do wonder if utrh has already taken place before this story or if it happens later.

as for teenage wasteland, wanted, and the big leagues (beechen) i generally enjoyed them? i don't have much to say that would warrant making this post longer than it already is HAH i already did my commentary on my private twitter on them.

i have maybe one (1) thing to bring up and it's the way cass was written. AGAIN do not have anything to compare to so fanon is my only guide but something smells off here??

also that issue with klarion? LOVED the art except for one small thing.

this abomination.

i also want to show the panels that made me think tim's a fuckboy. i can SEE him wanting to bite his lip and go "ahaha then what" he's soooo LMFAO

the confidence of a smelly teenager smh

ok im finally done <3 i got some new comics in the mail earlier so i'll be reading them next. and also ordered a few more through ebay from the us (bc i also got war games: act three from the con but decided i want to read the other two first)... the moment when the shipping fee is bigger than the price itself... </3

[kath-artic]

hmmm. recognizing negative thought patterns and unsure how to Stop them.

whenever my friends tell me that theyre achieving something or going to try to achieve something theres just this really negative knee jerk reaction that i have and it feels so gross. i get it especially when its in fields that are also relevant to me so part of it is definitely jealousy, but its especially prevalent when theyre attempting something literary because i have VERY strong opinions on the value of storytelling and the value of art and i take issue with some of the more modern, decadent approaches people take towards it where like. people are engaging with such insular themes and refusing to confront things beyond their comfort zone and i see it SO much amongst my friends. like there are things i dislike in reality that i think are incredibly important to engage with and extremely narratively compelling that they kind of just block out entirely? and theyre allowed to have their worldview but sometimes it just feels a little bit. ivory tower. idk. like i certainly hold views that i am privileged to be able to hold especially in this regard because there are things i can engage with that other people cant on account of personal experiences and trauma. there are lenses i can turn on and off in my brain that other people cant because they are so affected by certain issues that they dont have that luxury. i get that im not necessarily more Tapped In to the human experience or anything but like. idk i just really resent a lot of that sort of anti-intellectual refusal to engage with opposing worldviews and a lot of art feels very hollow to me for that reason. im getting off track but i think i just resent that my friends will always refuse to even entertain my worldview and i resent that they arent burdened by the same concerns of conserving the human spirit in all things and can just. exist like normal people and enjoy things. i think i have to just start creating again. i think that would take away the jealousy element and maybe also give me a vehicle through which i can communicate the things that are important to me

i think the bottom line is i want to be able to be happy for my friends and so i have to start achieving things too so that i dont resent them or get nasty thoughts of superiority. i also think i need to find more complicated people to hang out with because im kind of tired of the sort of sanitized modern worldview where topics are stripped of nuance

[sweet-dreams-are-made-of-my-dick]

so judging by rwby5 episode 1 they (miles n kerry) arent really going to bother delving into any of the more morally questionable bit of ozpin essentially overwriting and deleting a 14 year kid’s mind and memory with his own

sigh

why do i even bother

[aphrodite-made-me-write-it]

Bar Fries (and Other Drunk Blessings)

(A/N) aha im alive. i’ve made several bad choices this week. the least of which is my sudden obsession w darcy lewis. idk where it came from idk where it’s going but here’s a darcy fic OF WHICH THERE ARE NOT NEARLY ENOUGH. im stealing this tag and making it my bitch. part 2 of wanda is coming up shortly. welcome to me time, and this very very self-indulgent fic. 

Rating: M for Mature Language bc i am a POTTY MOUTH

Warnings: Hella Gay Tropes! Darcy is my wife goodbye. Literally nothing is bad abt this it’s basically fluff with very light pining. this is the comfort fic i fuckin need lmao

Pairing: Darcy Lewis x Fem!Asgardian!Reader

Word Count: 4,878

Synopsis: You get a drunk phone call at 4am from a very pissed off astrophysicist who loves to rant about lost bar fries and stolen iPods. Your brother tries to set you up with a girl who tased him.

LOOK AT HER SHE’S SO PRETTY WHSDKFJ

You’ve never slept well, ever since you were a kid. Being an Asgardian fallen to Earth when you were just a small child, you always assumed it had something to do with that. When you became an Avenger though, and later reunited with your brothers, your restless nights came more and more frequently.

Tonight, though, your spiralling mind is honed into focus when your phone starts to vibrate aggressively on your nightstand. You reach for it blindly, answering without looking at the Caller ID. Being a literal superhero kind of means you’re on call, like, all of the time.

“Hell-” you start but you’re immediately interrupted by a very loud and very drunk woman.

“I am so sorry for how I reacted at Cheeky Joe’s,” she slurs. “That was so not cool of me dude. It’s just that your fries looked so good and I thought you loved me because we’re best friends, right? All I wanted was one little fry! But I orc- over- o-” 

“Overreacted?” You finish, a smile pulling at your lips for some reason. Whoever this chick was, she sounded absolutely adorable. Or maybe it’s the early morning hours getting to your head.

There’s a sharp inhale. “Aw, shit, did SHIELD get my number again? Don’t you government cronies have something better to do than harass a-”

“Nope, no government cronies here,” you certainly aren’t telling her you’re an Avenger. That’s how you get doxxed, dammit. “And you called me about your french fry problems.”

“That’s such a relief,” she sighs. “Those bastards stole my iPod!” 

You snort. “Did they? Why would they do that?” 

“S’long story,” you distinctly hear her stumble, then she’s cackling at herself. 

“Are you okay?” You ask worriedly.

“Peachy keen, jelly bean,” she responds not so smoothly. “Talkin’ to a stranger on my walk home. My parents would be so disappointed.” She laughs again, a bit dramatically, and you can’t help joining in. 

“Better talking to a stranger on the phone than on the street.” You offer, to which she hums. You sit up, fighting the urge to yawn.

“Am I keepin’ ‘ya up?” 

“Nope, I was already awake.” 

“What are you, a vampire?” 

You wheeze out a laugh. “If I was, I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Heartless. I like you.” 

“So, what’s your name, stranger?”

“Darcy. Doctor Darcy. I’m a doctor.” 

You roll your eyes, biting your lip to fight the grin that’s already breaking out across your face. “Well, doctor, I’m (Y/N). Not a doctor, but kind of close, I suppose.”

“School nurse? Girlscout leader?”

“I’m afraid that’s a third date topic,” you divert easily, earning a delighted laugh from the other woman.

“Noted.” 

Darcy goes on a few long-winded rants about how shady government agencies are, and rapidly changes topics to things like shows she likes or movies she watches over and over. It’s weirdly easy to talk to her, as if you’d known each other all your lives. Which is odd in and of itself - you really are practically strangers. She has no idea who she’s talking to, and for all you know, she very well may be a serial killer or something.

But you still talk to her, and you can’t deny how much you enjoy doing so. You’re honestly disappointed when there’s the distinct jingling of keys, the gentle twick of a lock turning. “Well, made it home alive, stranger!”

“Congratulations, Doctor!” You hope you don’t sound so pathetically sad about it. 

“Thanks for toler-tating me, tolerating-” Darcy yelps, but doesn’t fall. She’s definitely taking off the heels she’s been complaining about. “For walking me home.”

“Glad to be of service,” you chuckle. “All in a day’s work.”

“You should sleep, too, for whatever secret job you’re hiding.” 

“Probably.” 

“We should- I mean, if y’wanted to, I dunno, talk again…” Are those the sounds of clothes being removed? She sounds distant, so it’s hard to tell. “Y’know, I’m down.”

“Noted.” You bite your lip. “Goodnight, stranger.” 

“Night,” she sighs. You’re pretty sure she’s just flopped down onto her bed. You wait just a moment before hanging up, your stomach turning pleasantly. 

You’ll blame it on the five-in-the-morning spur-of-the-moment vibes, but you send Darcy a text:

Outgoing: Good morning, stranger! I hope you aren’t feeling too sick when you wake up. Even though it was a drunk phone call, I did enjoy talking to you :) -(Y/N)

When you lay your head back down, sleep comes surprisingly easy.

- - - -

Darcy Lewis wakes up half-dressed and face down in her bed. It’s a familiar position, but it’s especially pathetic when she’d gone to sleep like this alone and, of course, woke up like this alone. She groans at the spinning sensation that immediately hits her brain, turning it to fuzzy cotton.

Her mouth tastes like actual garbage. Her makeup is still on. Her glasses are on her pillow, which means they’re going to be fucking dirty, and she can smell the stale beer on herself. 

Yup. Darcy Lewis is, in fact, hungover.

Hungover and alone, she reminds herself. Fuck yeah, astrophysics. 

She checks her phone, winces at the brightness. Five missed calls and eight missed texts from the number she’s pretty sure are Jane’s - but what’s that other message from a number that looks almost exactly like her best friend’s?

Then, the memories - and the nausea - hit her like a goddamn train going down a fucking mountain. She almost trips on her way to the bathroom, just making it to the toilet in time to throw up. 

After a much needed vom-session, an aggressive brush of her teeth, a hot shower, another aggressive brush of her teeth, Darcy is ready to face the consequences of her actions. That, and she was going to order a disgusting greasy breakfast from that diner around the corner. 

Jane, of course, is pissed but incredibly merciful. Darcy had texted her multiple times to apologize for being upset about the bar fries, and Jane is used to Black Out Darcy’s shit. After another apology and a promise to buy her lunch tomorrow, Darcy is off the hook and onto the next text.

She reads it once, then twice, then a third time before she realizes she’s rereading it and actually smiling. She mulls over her response for longer than she will ever admit to anybody even under extreme methods of torture.

Outgoing: I am so so sorry for keeping you up so late. I promise I’m not like an alcoholic or anything. I liked talking to you too, but I think I’ll like it more when I can actually remember all of the stupid things I say

Darcy keeps that stupid dorky dumb smile on her face when her food arrives, which she’s pretty sure scares the delivery boy who has only seen her hungover and monstrous. She keeps looking at her phone, despite herself, and sometimes swears she hears it vibrate only to find an empty lockscreen.

By four, she’s getting a little depressed. Maybe she’d hallucinated this mysterious stranger who liked talking to her? Or maybe it was just a customary text, like maybe this happens to you all the time and-

Okay, she certainly heard it vibrate this time.

She grabs it immediately. Like a basic bitch.

Incoming:  I was already up, don’t worry about it :) but you can always make it up to me by introducing me to Sober Darcy.  Sorry for the late reply. Work is a bit hectic rn

God, she knows she’s smiling again. She’s never reacted like THIS to strangers who get her number. Darcy has never, ever in her life felt like this. It’s so fucking dorky and weird she has to second-guess herself. I am not a basic bitch. I am not about to simp for some rando I don’t even know. 

Still, even as she thinks this, she types out:

Outgoing: Sober Darcy. Nice to meet you. Allow me to be your distraction from work? I have cat videos.

And thus, a beautiful friendship is formed.

- - - -

“Are you finally texting that cute temp in statistics?” Natasha asks, noticing not for the first time in the past two weeks that you’re glued to your phone with a dazed sort of expression. A dumbstruck kind of look.

You scoff. “No.”

The redhead frowns to herself when you don’t even spare her a glance. “Well, who’re you texting?”

“Nobody,” you respond, putting your phone down suspiciously. “Why?”

Natasha rolls her eyes. “Do I really have to remind you that I’m an expert on body language?”

“Human body language.”

“Oh, shut up, you’re not some weird humanoid freak. Who are you texting and why are they making you look all sappy?”

You blush. “Uh- well, it’s… a long story.”

Ever since you started texting, you and Darcy rarely go longer than a few hours without talking to each other. Occasionally, you’ll talk on the phone, and you easily drown yourself in the way she speaks about her work. She sounds so passionate, so alive - it’s endearing, even if you don’t understand a lot of the technical terms. You know stars well enough, at least.

And, okay, as dumb as it sounds… you might have developed a crush on her. Is it even possible to be attracted to a voice?

“C’mon,” Natasha snaps her fingers expectantly. “I’m waiting. Who is it?”

“We, uh, met by accident. She called me instead of her friend when she was drunk a few weeks ago. We’ve kinda been texting ever since?” You explain in a rush.

Natasha fucking lights up like it’s Christmas morning. She might not seem like the type to enjoy gossip, but she and Tony Stark are the biggest goddamn drama queens you’ve ever met. They live and thrive on gossip.

But she’s your best friend, so you have to tolerate it.

“That’s actually so cute. What’s she like? Have you seen her? Is she hot?” She asks in succession. 

You blush even harder. “Well- no, we haven’t like, done a video call or anything. Just- just regular ones. And texting.”

“So that’s why you’re always up so late.”

“She’s doing some work in Arizona right now. She’s, uh, an astrophysicist.”

“And does she know what you are?”

“Of course not.”

Natasha groans, throwing her head back against the cushions of the couch. “You’re kidding me.”

“What? How do I even- how would I bring that up? ‘Hey, you like space, right? Well, guess what? You’re talking to a genuine alien!’”

The redhead scoffs incredulously. “Well, the longer you keep it from her, the weirder it’s going to be when you finally fess up. If you really like her, she should know what she’s getting into. She doesn’t even know that you’re an Avenger, does she?”

“Well, she’s apparently had her iPod stolen by SHIELD.” 

Natasha sits up, then, a look of blatant confusion on her face. “What?”

You shrug. “Apparently they’re on her shitlist for that.”

“How does she know about SHIELD?”

You shrug. “She won’t tell me, but either way, telling her I literally work as a government-sanctioned super-freak isn’t gonna do me any favors.”

“Oh, shut up. If she’s as nerdy as she sounds I think she’d be into it.”

“You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Aw, but you love me.” Natasha winks. “So, you don’t even have an instagram? Twitter? Somewhere to find her picture?”

You shake your head shyly. “N-no.”

“You’re hopeless.”

- - - -

Outgoing: can i ask u something kinda weird?

Incoming: if it’s feet pics, i charge extra

Outgoing: ha ha. ur hilarious. if i asked u to facetime…. Would u?

Incoming: you’ve listened to me drunk rant about bar fries of course I’d ft with u

It takes you longer than you’d like to admit to get ready to facetime Darcy. You want to look nice, but not too nice. Casual, but not like, lazy slop casual. You’re nervous as fuck, and you really can’t even explain WHY. It’s so fucking dorky, you want to throw up.

But eventually, you muster up the courage and totally aren’t considering jumping out of a window by the time the screen lights up.

Of course she’s hot.

Shit.

Darcy’s wearing a huge grin on her face the moment she sees you, her plump lips painted red and her blue eyes shining with excitement. “So you really aren’t a creepy old man!”

You snort. “When did I ever seem like a creepy old man?”

She shrugs. “Most things in my life take a weird turn that involve creepy older men. Besides, you just seemed too cool to be real.” 

“You only say that because you’re a nerd,” you roll your eyes, earning a scoff from the brunette. Weirdly, you’d sort of known she was a brunette. “You’re prettier than I imagined.”

“Last guy who said that to me got tased.” 

“You’re awfully attached to that taser.”

She grins maliciously. “Dude, if you knew who and what this taser has tased, you’d be attached to it, too.”

“My brother was tased once,” you mention off-handedly, grinning at the story Thor had told you. “When he first came to M-uh,” you stop yourself cold. “My place, I mean. Here.” Not a complete lie, right? 

“You’ve got a brother?” Darcy asks, surprised. You find that her expressions give away her true emotions; she’s so expressive, so alive with whatever she’s feeling in the moment. It’s unbelievably adorable. “You never mentioned that!” 

“He’s…” You hesitate nervously. “Well, he’s hard to describe.”

“Just like your job? I’m starting to think you’re either a serial killer or a famous pornstar because I swear I’ve seen your face before.” 

Dread pools in your gut. “I’ve just got that kind of face, I guess.” 

Her eyes narrow thoughtfully. “You’re definitely in porn, aren’t you?” 

“You’re saying that like you want me to be,” you retort, earning a blush and a laugh.

“I wouldn’t judge! Money’s money. Shake what your mama gave ‘ya!” 

You stay up way, way later than you’d intended. So late that the next morning, you wake up next to your phone and are met with a sleeping lump with a mass of dark hair. It brings a dumb smile to your lips, inevitable and impossible to fight. You end the call, wincing at how hot it’s made your phone, and sit up groggily. 

You’re still smiling when you make it to the kitchen, your slippered feet seemingly skimming the ground with how much your whole body is buzzing.

“Why is she smiling like that?” Bucky whispers to Steve, who just shakes his head.

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Maybe she got laid?” Tony suggests, butting into the conversation. 

“Nobody came into the Tower last night. You’d be the first to know.” Steve points out.

Tony nods, humming as he strokes his facial hair. You’re putting together a bowl of cereal, looking absolutely mindless with glee. It isn’t that you’re always depressed or something. It’s just strange seeing you like… this. They haven’t seen you this happy since you reunited with Thor.

Natasha, though, is unusually quiet. Actually, she’s grinning too. Like the cat who caught the canary. She sips her coffee with a content sigh, looking disproportionately pleased with herself.

“Do you think they-” Bucky begins, but shuts up the second Natasha’s green eyes land on him. “Maybe she’s just having a good day.”

“Yeah, a good day,” Natasha smiles, sending a cold chill down the men’s spines. 

Whatever the fuck is going on, it might be in their better interest to just leave it alone.

- - - -

It was a very rare and especially good occasion when you and Thor got to work together. His missions always involved space or Asgard, and when he wasn’t off on his missions, he was with his girlfriend out of state. You kept in close contact, but it was always thrilling to fight alongside him.

Thor inherited much of your father’s abilities, but you were bestowed with your mother’s own abilities and a few… unique to yourself. You could see glimpses of the future, though not far enough ahead to win any lottery tickets; just enough that you can dodge certain death. You’re also an extremely gifted healer, with a knack for controlling the plant life on Earth. (Not on Asgard, though. It seems like a power that only works here, but you don’t mind it so much. You like gardening, and yours is the most beautiful in New York, you’re certain of it.)

Unfortunately, both of you share a lot of that hardheadedness that drove Loki nuts when you were children. While your brother distracts the blood-thirsty alien that’s been trying to assassinate you, you had to duck down to take care of a wretched gash in your side. Your hands are glowing with the energy of your abilities, the wound slowly closing when your phone rings unexpectedly.

You answer it in a rush, taking a wincing breath now that you’re down to one healing hand. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me.” Darcy. Shit. “Am I interrupting something?” 

“N-no,” you lie. “But I can’t talk long. I’m, uh, at work.”

“Shit, sorry- are you okay? You sound like you’re hurt?”

“I’m-” there’s a very distinctly not human roar just outside of the warehouse you’ve hidden in. “Motherfucking- I’ll call you in a bit, okay? Promise.”

“Wait, what was-” 

You end the call and stand up, the wound half-healed and still oozing blood all over your armor. You raise your hands and roots burst from the ground, grabbing the creature by the ankles and yanking it downwards. Two more legs push out from its sides, scrabbling hard against the force of your powers.

It’s a damn miracle that you make it out alive. But, the alien threat is terminated, and being sent to SHIELD for an intense examination. Thor supports you as you enter the tower, looking proud but worried as you limp alongside him.

“I want you to meet Jane,” he says, making you nearly stumble on your next step. He catches you, though, a frown on his face. “And I want you to finish healing that.”

“Since when do I listen to you?” You tease, letting him ease you into a chair in the dining area. You move aside your chainmail and return to healing yourself.

“She has a friend you might enjoy?” He grins, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Ever since you’d come out to him, Thor has tried his very damn best to figure out the best girlfriend for you. His standards are higher than yours - which is saying something - and it isn’t often that he presents a candidate directly to you. Normally, he uses Natasha or Tony for that. 

You snort, giving him a disbelieving smile. “You’re trying to set me up with your girlfriend’s friend?”

“The one who tased me.” 

“Oh, now you have my attention. Should have led with that.”

“I apologize. I want you to meet my girlfriend and her best friend that tased me that I believe you will have a wonderful relationship with.”

“Now you’re just kissing my ass,” you roll your eyes, sighing with relief as the pain finally eases on your side. It’ll be tender for a while, but it’s nothing you can’t handle. “What did you have in mind?”

“Dinner. I’ve asked Tony to make arrangements-”

“Oh, man,” you groan, “I don’t have blacktie attire!”

“I’m sure Natasha will be happy to help you.”

You want to protest, but he just looks so damn hopeful and you’ve never been able to say no to your favorite big brother. You sigh and nod. “Okay, alright. I’ll go.”

When you get back to your room, you call Darcy back and begin the slow process of removing the armor you’d been given by your brother when you reunited. She picks up surprisingly quick.

“Dude, what the hell?” 

“Sorry,” you apologize. “My job’s… intense.”

“What was that?” 

“Machinery,” you lie. You’re a filthy, filthy liar. Such a coward. 

“Liar,” Darcy accuses. “Seriously? I’ve been sitting here thinking you were dying for like, two hours!” 

“Sorry,” you apologize again. “I didn’t-” you pause, then sigh. “I didn’t want to scare you off, is all.”

“I’m a little difficult to scare off.”

“Okay, it was an alien.”

She actually laughs. When you don’t join in, she stops herself. “Wait, seriously?” 

“I sort of work for SHIELD.”

“SHIELD as in stole-my-iPod-SHIELD?”

“Uh, yeah…?”

Darcy exhales sharply. “And you didn’t tell me because I talk shit on them all the time.” 

“No! I didn’t want to tell you because it’s a weird job, Darcy. I’m weird.”

“Okay, edgelord, don’t get ahead of yourself.” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” 

“I was starting to think you were an Avenger or something,” she scoffs off-handedly. Your chestplate slips from your hands clumsily, landing on the carpeted floor with a heavy thud. “What the hell was that?” 

“I dropped something.”

“So, what was the alien?” 

You stare at the piece of armor on the floor for a moment. “I’m not sure. It was spider-like, though. Lots of arms.”

“Cool.” 

Maybe you should tell her the truth.

(But what if that changes everything?)

Eventually, once you’re finished showering and getting ready for bed, you text the brunette.

Outgoing:  I’ve got dinner w my brother and his gf tomorrow he’s trying to set me up w the chick that tasered him

Incoming: gross. im going out w my best friend and her bf to meet his sister or something? idk her bf is hot so im hoping his sister is too

Outgoing: and here I thought I was the only woman in your life

Incoming: i will always have a place for u in my heart 

You roll your eyes and smile to yourself. You don’t want to ruin things by telling her who you are - what you are. You like this friendly flirting, the banter - you like talking with her, and sleeping on FaceTime together. There’s so much about this that you like, you can’t imagine altering it as much as you would if you were to reveal your true identity.

Incoming: But that DOES mean ill be in nyc so… I mean, if u want to meet up or something Maybe grab dinner the day after tomorrow? If things don’t go well with your brother-tasering date, i mean

Your smile widens painfully, a blush spreading across your cheeks just as quickly.

Outgoing: are u asking me on a date Dr Lewis?

Incoming: If i said yes, would u still wanna do it?

Outgoing: Absolutely

Incoming: Then it’s a date ;)

Your smile remains on your lips long after your eyes shut.

- - - -

“Holy shit, you look great,” Darcy’s jaw actually drops when she sees you. You’re leaving with Thor in ten minutes, and Darcy is just about to leave. Still, you’d decided to talk before your respective ‘dates’ to plan the date you were going to go on together. 

“So do you,” you note shyly. You’d both chosen to wear black dresses, though hers has a low-cut neckline that makes your eyes drift where they absolutely should not. Her lips are still red, but a darker shade than usual. 

Your own dress was strapless, and had a long slit up the side. Natasha says you’ve got great legs, and to show ‘em off. You told her about your date with Darcy, and she was beyond excited to provide two dresses. This one was the less-revealing one, because she apparently thinks you and Darcy aren’t going to be able to keep your hands off of each other.

After some quick small-talk, someone calls Darcy’s name and the brunette is off to go and you’re finishing up working your hair into something presentable. Finally, Thor comes to your room and you’re off to meet Jane.

You’re the first ones to arrive, the restaurant as bullshit fancy as you’d expect from someone like Tony Stark. You feel terribly out of place, stumbling alongside your brother as people eye you both with wide-eyed wonder.

That was also an issue to tackle when you go out with Darcy. The staring. It was complete blind luck that she hadn’t recognized you before, but once she starts seeing how everyone stares at you, it won’t be long before she questions your real job.

“There she is,” Thor exhales softly, that dumb lovey look on his face as he drags you obliviously through the staring public.

At least you get a section somewhat separated from the rest. Being an upscale New York restaurant frequented by the rich and snotty, you shouldn’t be surprised that they’ve got a whole section for ‘VIPs’. 

“Thor,” Jane stands, giving your brother a loving kiss before turning to you with a wide grin. “And you must be (Y/N).”

“Yeah, that’s me,” you return her smile. “I’ve heard a lot about you!”

“And this,” she steps aside, revealing her companion for the first time, and your entire body goes still with shock. “Is Darcy, my best friend.”

Darcy, who had been looking at the menu, looks up and then drops it the second your eyes lock. Her lips part in surprise, a heavy silence filling the space between you. You feel incredibly warm all of a sudden, and weirdly exposed. 

“Igottapee!” You blurt, practically running to the restroom.

Oh, nice going. Real smooth. You find out the possible love of your life is your brother’s girlfriend’s best friend that he’s trying to set you up with so you RUN AWAY AND HIDE IN A BATHROOM. 

You’re double-checking your reflection, wiping away any possible flaws in your makeup like a fucking maniac, when the door swings open and Darcy herself steps in. 

“When you said you worked for SHIELD I didn’t think you meant as a freaking superhero!” She exclaims in a very terrible whisper-shout. “I thought you were gonna be more honest with me?”

You take a deep breath. “I was gonna tell you tomorrow, on our date. This isn’t something I can just spring on somebody.”

Darcy looks ready to argue, but seems to think better of it. Her shoulders sink, and she takes a long moment to look over you. “You’re right. But still, holy shit… this is so weird.”

“You tased my brother,” you realize with a giggle. Darcy’s eyes widen, and then she laughs hard. 

“I tased your brother!”

You’re both laughing like absolute idiots, now. Absolutely hysterical, clutching your sides and bending over with the force of it. When her hand reaches out to balance herself against your shoulder, a sharp static shock runs through your system.

“Holy shit, they set us up on a date with each other,” you gasp, finally able to take in her appearance in full. She’s fucking gorgeous. Not that she isn’t on the phone, but there’s something else about seeing it in person.

Darcy seems to realize this, too, her eyes raking over you and drinking in the sight of you. “Yeah, they did.”

You bite your lip. “Damn, I had a really nice dress for tomorrow.”

“This isn’t a ‘really nice’ dress?” She asks, eyeing the slit up your leg. “I’m pretty sure that costs more than my apartment.”

“It’s Natasha’s,” you explain.

“Holy shit this entire time you’ve been talking about the Black Widow-”

“Are you going to start freaking out about me being an Avenger?”

She pouts. “Aw, hey, I took this in stride! Can’t I freak out just a little bit?”

You sigh dramatically, pulling yourself up onto the marbled counter and crossing your legs primly. “Fine. Go ahead.”

“I can’t believe I’m on a date with an Asgardian,” it’s definitely not what you’d expected, but it makes you smile stupidly anyway. “Like, wow, I thought Thor was hot but you-” she stops herself, then blushes. “Wow, I must seem pretty underwhelming.”

“Not at all,” you admit, still smiling. “I think you’re overwhelmingly you, but in a good way.”

Darcy takes a nervous step towards you, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “That was corny.”

“But it was true.” You hold a hand out, slipping off the counter. “C’mon, before they think we’re doing anything but talking in here.”

“Pfft, I wish.” She sighs, a bit dreamily, and you pause in your next step, quirking an eyebrow at her questioningly. “What?” She asks sheepishly. “I’ve been thinking of kissing you for like, a month now.”

You laugh a little at that, your free hand moving to her waist. “You should’ve said something sooner.”

“What, are we gonna makeout in the bath-” you cut her off by pressing your lips gently against hers. It’s short, leaving her enough time to react before she’s kissing you hard. She’s stronger than she looks, somehow pulling you in close by your waist and pushing you against the counter again. You hum, drinking in the warmth and ease of her mouth against your own.

When she pulls away, you’re both wearing the same wide smile. 

“No more secrets,” you promise softly. “As long as I get to keep kissing you like that.”

Darcy’s eyes meet yours. “I’m so glad Jane didn’t let me eat those bar fries.”

- - - -

Tags! @nobody13​ @fireflyglass @swords-are-cool​ @artapdarkstr @pasta-bandit​ @multi-images​ @women-am-i-right​

[ectonurites]

do you think there's enough evidence to say that dc is setting timkon up to be endgame? i saw something saying that tim is always given cheating arcs so that's what will probably happen and i don't really want that for him... i like timkon a lot but i mean... if we didn't get timkon when tim's queerness was revealed it's likely not going happen right lol? though i would like to see tim admit in another lightbulb moment that he probably had a crush on kon lol

ok im just going to . break this into pieces to answer. this got very long and definitely has some side tangents

I'd like to give a disclaimer that a decent amount of this stuff is conjecture, just my opinions based on things i've noticed, ya know? I am just a fan and don't know everything lmao

do you think there's enough evidence to say that dc is setting timkon up to be endgame?

absolutely not in any sort of sure way. i'm not saying there's no evidence that it's a thought some people at dc may have had, because i mean i know for a fact there's people who've worked at dc in positions of some power that like the pairing (i mean he's leaving DC soon but, like, Tynion, and he almost certainly isn't the only one he's just the one i can easily link to a source about it) but I think saying there's evidence to prove it's a sure thing is just... a lot of wishful thinking.

I said this a while back but honestly one reason why I thought it was crazy people getting upset about Kon not being the one to be confirmed queer right now when Jon was is the fact that... Kon is not even regularly showing up anywhere right now. He's not in an ongoing, like I wouldn't be surprised if he shows up in Suicide Squad again later on some sort of Match rescue mission, but that's not a sure or guaranteed thing. Yet despite that and how in recent years he's definitely gotten brushed under the rug a decent amount, he's not some entirely unknown character (especially because he's in Titans + the YJ cartoon, despite the differences in those versions of the character, its the name recognition) that they'd just quickly decide 'ok he can be gay now' like... as much as I do personally read him as queer I definitely think he's a harder sell to convince people of that than Tim was, at least from DC's standpoint.

We do know that like for Meghan's situation writing Tim's coming out it was a sort of thing where she was given the task of writing a Tim story and when it became about themes of identity this was just the path she thought it had to go down, but anything even remotely like that sort of opprotunity isn't happening with Conner anytime in the foreseeable future, we don't have something formatted like Urban Legends for Superfam characters. And idk I don't think they'd use Kon as just a supporting character in Tim's life/stories, like, I think the primary most likely way I would see something genuinely happening with them in canon would be if they end up on a team book together again and it happened there, but like... who knows when/if that'll happen

That got a bit off topic, but tldr no I don't think there's enough evidence to support that, I think the circumstances as they currently are don't indicate things clearly enough to think of it even remotely as a 'sure thing', but I also think ya know considering we do have canon queer Tim we're in a far more likely position for it than we ever have been in the past.

i saw something saying that tim is always given cheating arcs so that's what will probably happen and i don't really want that for him...

ok well whoever said that has the reading comprehension skills of a kindergartner. sorry, that was mean. ok. but just ... 'always'???? that is just. that is not correct. Tim's relationships are full of teen drama and they get messy, but people take things so incredibly out of context. There are two short instances of cheating, but neither one would qualify as an arc, and one was during a crossover with another company.

Like, listen, I need people to understand there is a difference between a love triangle/having conflicted feelings for multiple people and like, actual cheating.

Tim met Ari and began dating her. Tim met Stephanie and worked with her in their hero identities.

Tim almost died (almost suffocated in a van buried under concrete with Steph's dad) early in his solo (Robin #5) and Steph was the person there as he was saved so he kissed her as a 'holy fuck im alive thank you' type of thing. Is that something he should have done? No, it's not good to kiss other girls when you have a girlfriend. But it's a very specific situation and he was 14 and thought he was about to die so I think the way people treat it like him purposefully trying to cheat on Ari behind her back is strange (especially when Ari during the same issue... goes on a date with another guy because Tim stood her up? [i mean not purposefully he was. fucking dying. but she didn't know that] Like I don't think we should vilify Ari here either as an alternative, but both it was a situation created to make teen drama and we need to keep that in mind). Also like i'm sorry but giving the nearest person a kiss after you almost died/something crazy happened is like, a pretty common media trope (to pull from TVTropes: its the Accidental Kiss/Smooch of Victory overlap). I'm not trying to minimize that it was something he shouldn't have done, but it's also nowhere near as deep or malicious as people act like.

After that, any other times Tim & Steph kissed while he was dating Ari, Steph was the one to kiss him and he kept pushing her away, telling her he had a girlfriend, and to stop. That is not the same as cheating.

Now, Tim was developing feelings for Stephanie during all of this, and it obviously left him conflicted. But that's a love triangle, where he's torn between staying with Ari or instead moving on to date Steph. When he realizes he does want to date Steph he decides to immediately break up with Ari and it just takes a few days because this was 1998 and teens communicating with one another worked a lot differently than it does now. (and she ends up even breaking up with him first LMAO)

Did he handle things messily? Sure. Did he kiss Steph purposefully while dating Ari once which would count as cheating? Yeah. But is this an arc about him purposefully cheating on his girlfriend until he eventually leaves her? No.

Now, if the person who said that was talking about the Jubilee thing in the Marvel crossover which happened while he'd been dating Ari... im sorry but that is a crossover with a whole other company. Trying to hold that up as if its prime characterization that holds strong bearing on regular canon is like, insane. Again, was it a good thing? No, absolutely not, but that wasn't a story focused on making the most in-character Tim in the world, it was focused on making an interesting crossover story for people who wanted to see interactions between DC and Marvel characters, and Tim & Jubilee were just selected for 'teen romance where they can't be together in the end because they're from different worlds'

And those are the only actual instances of cheating!

While he's dating Steph there are two instances she thinks he's cheating on her (with Star during the Brentwood era and with Darla just before War Games) but that wasn't what was actually happening in either situation (Star was just a friend who'd taught him how to skateboard, and Darla had kissed Tim without his permission and he pushed her away telling her he had a girlfriend, Steph just hadn't stuck around long enough to see/hear that part, Tim didn't willingly kiss Darla until after Steph & Darla had both died and Darla came back as Laura Fell/Warlock's Daughter) so considering that stuff a 'cheating arc' is nuts.

Things with Zo and Cassie between his solo and the Teen Titans book do happen in vaguely similar timeframes but those actually don't overlap as much as a lot of people think (like before I did the rereading for the stuff i'm about to talk about I also thought they overlapped more tbh!)

I was already making a Tim relationships chart before I got this ask, it's not completely done yet but I finished the section for that 2006-2008 era for this. This is by specifically what issues came out which month, to lay things out as factually as possible, the yellow column is Cassie & pink is Zo

It's not until the Robin book suddenly starts switching writers a ton (as in, it had been Adam Beechen from #148-166, and then the annual is Keith Champagne, #167 is Brandon Thomas, #168-169 is Peter Miligan and then #170 starts Dixon's second run, so between #166-170 there are 5 different writers on one book) that things actually start to conflict between Tim being with Cassie in Teen Titans and Tim being with Zo in Robin, it's absolutely just that nobody working on Robin was communicating (with each other or the Teen Titans creative team) and that caused things to get confusing.

That's not Tim as a character cheating, that's pretty clearly just a result of Tim's solo being passed between so many people in such a short timeframe, and causing miscommunications.

When Steph then comes back he and Zo are together at the time but also already kinda tense (after Tim fell asleep on a Roller Coaster on a date LMAO), and like... he was trying to navigate an insane situation as honestly as he could, not cheat on anyone behind anyone's back. 'My girlfriend i loved that i thought was dead came back but i'm currently dating someone else now and everything is weird and tense' isn't a cheating arc, it's ridiculous comic book teen drama. He and Steph also never even officially get back together in this era, they had one kiss when she was initially revealed to be alive and that's it, otherwise he was still with Zo (until he broke up with her in Robin #183)

During Red Robin his budding relationship with Tam is incredibly casual, so I really do not think that the stuff with Lynx counts as cheating even remotely (and also, that was a situation of her making out with him. Although admittedly he's less resistant than he had been back in the old days with Steph, he wasn't formally dating Tam like he had been Ari)

So yeah, no. 'always has cheating arcs' is just incorrect, and saying 'that's what will probably happen' (them saying it, not you) actively makes me mad. The last time he actually genuinely cheated was in 1996 during the Jubilee thing, 7 years into existing as a character, and he's then existed for another 25 years after without doing so... it just really doesn't strike me as particularly likely.

i like timkon a lot but i mean... if we didn't get timkon when tim's queerness was revealed it's likely not going happen right lol? though i would like to see tim admit in another lightbulb moment that he probably had a crush on kon lol

So like, honestly, the fact that Kon wasn't his gay awakening I don't think means it's 100% never going to happen or anything like that. Like... ok this is gonna sound pessimistic but as much as I do like Tim/Bernard and think it's fun, I don't foresee Tim being in a relationship with a civilian (at least not one he hides his identity from) longterm again, mainly because since he's not in a solo book right now, we're not really going to be seeing that much of his civilian life to actually show that he's having that relationship. Unless DC decides to actually put spotlight on Tim's civilian life in some way moving forward... the solutions are either Bernard gets more involved in vigilante things (not even necessarily as a hero, but could be something like over in Jon's book how Jay is a reporter actively investigating things related to Jon's hero stuff, so he's a part of the book outside of just attempts at a civilian life) or they break up.

Now I know above I just complained about how Kon's not really showing up in many places, however Kon is still a LOT more likely to show up in stuff than Bernard is just like, in general as a character. Building a relationship between two characters active in the hero community who both appear places on their own too (and then could also appear together) rather than a hero x a civilian love interest that's only gonna appear in stuff for that hero just... seems more long-lasting to me when the hero in question isn't in a solo book to explore more aspects of their civilian life. But that doesn't really narrow anything down to Kon, that's just more of an argument for 'Tim will probably eventually date another queer hero'

To talk about something a little more positive irt tim/kon because I've been kinda tearing shit down most of this post so far, I'd like to talk about how Kon was involved in Sum of Our Parts to begin with. There was a choice to bring him into the narrative for Tim's coming out story, and... well I'm gonna pull another quote from that same Meghan Fitzmartin podcast interview I keep quoting, where she was asked about Conner:

Starting from 22:48

Interviewer: Soooo- my boy Conner Kent- [laughter] Can we hear this- In your Urban Legends story, and he and Tim have a complicated history of being read as queer coded, was any of this running through your mind while writing their interaction?

Fitzmartin: I mean, I've-I've seen the internet. I've-I'm aware. I'm aware that the internet exists. Umm...

Interviewer: [overlapping] Alright

Fitzmartin: K-Ya know. Conner is part of Tim's history just like Stephanie is part of Tim's history in-in varying different degrees in varying different ways but, um, we are who those around us- we are what others around us are- ma-uh- make us to be. And. so.

Interviewer: Right-

Fitzmartin: [overlapping] I'll leave it at that-

Interviewer: That's a fair- fair answer, I will take it.

Fitzmartin: [laughs]

Her answer is definitely a vague non-answer (bc like. it kinda has to be imo. she doesn't control Conner's direction as a character or anything and... ya know) but like. Much to think about there with her blatantly drawing comparison to Steph & Kon's respective importance to Tim's history, ya know? Based on what she said that stuff was something she was certainly aware of when she wrote this:

(Batman: Urban Legends #5)

...and she also had made a parallel between how Tim feels/has felt for Steph & how he feels for Bernard in her Polygon interview

(source)

So there's... things you could extrapolate from that if you tried. It'd be putting words in her mouth to try to make any specific claims and you shouldn't really do that, but it's not unreasonable to see some sort of connection in there.

but anyways, to kinda do a tldr to this whole post: I don't think there's nearly enough evidence to say 'timkon is a sure endgame thing' but I also do think it's not an unreasonable thing to hope or want for, and I could see the groundwork clearly there if the right opprotunity came along to tell the story. I just personally, from things i've seen, don't think it's an active thing DC is planning and purposefully building towards right now (frankly I feel like they just aren't thinking far enough ahead with Tim or Kon as characters for something like that), but I think it's fair to say there's people at DC probably rooting for it and that maybe someday it will get it's chance to happen.

[maldito-arbol]

Sexuality and/or gender head canons for the calamity trio in ibybf? (Sorry for all the asks,,)

No no I’m having the time of my life answering :3 and because I feel like Neurodivergently Rambling currently this post is about to be kinda Long

SCREECH OKAU OKAY SO THIS IS HOW I HEADCANON EVERYONE IN CANON

Anne

Sexuality: lesbian

Gender: trans girl she/her OR she/they both good

Marcy

Sexuality: lesbian (my irl friends insist she’s pan but i know her personally ok)

Gender: literally any flavor of non-binary, tho I’m biased towards it/they pronouns for our Marbles

Sasha

Sexuality: bisexual (it’s the VIBE idk how else to explain it)

Gender: Genderfluid and/or transmasc headcanons are all very big brain, tho im biased towards she/he pronouns for our Sashy

+They’re all poly too sorry I don’t make the rules

+I like the headcanons where when Sasha and Anne figure out their Genders they swap any and all gendered clothing

+Sasha and Marcy help each other bind cause god knows it is Difficult sometimes

+the fact that short hair Sasha has become a Phenomenon in the fandom will never cease to amaze and enchant me but I like to think Marcy helped her and/or went with him to Do the Deed and they both got nailed with Gender Euphoria all at once

+this is entirely off topic but the very first character I headcanoned as trans was Sprig he just gives off VIBES aGAIN and I think he’s pansexual too. But Anne was my immediate second she is so trans i can’t function wndjwksks

Now for IBYBF in particular, I don’t know. Their sexuality headcanons still apply but I’m not sure what to do about genders. It really never crossed my mind to do anything Gender related with the trio especially since I was still grappling with my own gender identity when I started off with PMIT and I most certainly was not Out to anyone at that point, which means the series started and has continued with everyone being cis. HOWEVER,,,, you can tell my Gender influence has started bleeding in with the Gems having blue hair and pronouns. Heart being they/them, Wit being she/her, and Strength being it/its. This was largely because I started off using it/its on all of them but then I was like ‘no no, give them some flavor✨’ so here we are now. A large part of this decision also has to do with the emphasis I’m placing on the Gems being People, which, going forward, you’re going to see a lot more of. (One of the major threads of fic 3 is going to revolve around the dynamics between the gems and their previous vessels and how it’s impacted who they are now.)

Will I touch Gender territory with the calamity trio in the future? I don’t know. I talked about the question in a reply to a comment on the fic proper too but basically most of what holds me back is the fear that I might portray something inaccurately at best or straight up offensive at worst. I know very little about the experience of mtfs because I’m afab and while I am Genderfluid, I’ve come to understand my experience is hardly universal and Gender is experienced very differently by different people. I could write it In Theory, I’m just terrified of doing so sndjeksksk. It’s in a similar vein to my fear of how I’m portraying polyam relationships too—which I went on that terribly disjointed rant about in my last post. Its a topic that gives me Anxiety and I don’t know if I wanna tackle another when I’m already freaking out about writing poly relationships even tho I AM POLY. We’ll see how I feel in the future tho—after all, I was worried I’d be too uncomfortable portraying Anne’s self-destruction arc too and yet i did it anyway.

But anyway if you would like to read the characters as Gender regardless feel free to do so in fact I encourage you to do so cause damn sis those girls ain’t cis 🧐 thank u for coming to my Ted talk 💜

[mrpenguinpants]

KAEYA PLAYING WITH ABYSS MAGES AHDHSHDHSB IM- that’s so cute????? Guizhong being older than Zhongli is such a valid hc, I fully support and condone it. Thank you. And Childe growing to like battle was something I found interesting because he was once mentioned to be fragile and weak in his character stories iirc? I like to think that maybe the initial reason he persevered was to overcome that past status.

Also, YES. They’d have the worst habits, and it would eventually become more visible the more comfortable it becomes, but Keqing just gives up on trying to change anything because it’s literally hopeless.

I also headcanon that they have different ways to show appreciation for Keqing. E.g. Childe sometimes uses one of his cringy ass Russian nicknames and when she looks up the meaning, she turns from the most straight-faced woman known to man to a highkey affection-starved queen self-destructing in her room.

Diluc leaves a note on her desk that are simple “Sleep early today. Tomorrow is your day-off.” or “Don’t over work yourself.” messages. He’s so self-conscious about it because like, what if Kaeya catches him up at night contemplating whatever reaction he’ll get. Ends up feeling so accomplished whenever his messages bring a smile to her face.

Kaeya, I feel, would be more open in a sense? Keqing is the last person he thinks he’s be able to deceive, and so he chooses not to. He’s probably one who enjoys deep conversations about literally anything be it mosaic artwork or changes in between modern and archaic politics. A good listener and a fine conversation partner, I feel they’d certainly have interesting conversations.

Zhongli lowkey seizing every opportunity to bring up Rex Lapis and his sense of humor is lowkey degrading Morax for his past mistakes. He’s like “Oh, I thought you hated him. I hate him too” and proceeds to laugh at the fact that the oh-so legendary Geo archon bore a hole in his hoodie for his hair. FOR HIS HAIRS. Keqing is losing her sanity trying not to expose herself as a closeted fan.

The anon lists’ name is super cute btw! Makes me feel pretty blessed for being there haha. I just finished midterms and goodness, I am exhausted. We’re having a short break so I think I can send asks much faster during the brief moment of rest. And pls drink responsibly 🙏

Sincerely, Keqing harem brainrot anon

I lowkey plucked Kaeya playing with mobs and shoved it into the royalty au because god damn, that’s fucking cute. I’m so behind on my asks;; but it’s okay cause we’re here now. I don’t know, Guizhong being that older sister/mother/whatever figure is so heartwarming to me. I think you’re right? I vaguely remember him saying he was pretty fragile but I have the memory of a goldfish haha. Lowkey, this is why I really want the part 2 and 3 of character story quests to go more in depth with their actual character stories. I want to see Childe talk about his feelings and meet his siblings, I want to hear more about Guizhong, I want to hear about the crippling loneliness and depression that Bennett and Barbara have (NO I WILL NOT SHUT UP ABOUT THIS PART. WHY THE FUCK IS GENSHIN NOT TALKING ABOUT THIS? I KNOW ITS FUN AND GAMES BUT LET ME CARE ABOUT THEM. 1.4 has these hangout events and istg, bennett and barabara have one and if we don’t talk about our feelings I’m going to cry). 

oml their bad habits, Zhongli and his extensive collection of plants because that’s the most social interaction he gets (yes, zhongli is a planter. no i do not take criticism tyvm) and it starts off with a couple plants. Not too bad. Then the next day Keqing walks and it looks like their entire home turned into a forest. But Zhongli loves his plant children and Keqing is slowly losing her mind and starts referring to the plants with the nicknames Zhongli gave them. 

This. This is cute. These appreciation ideas. I fully approve and we need to bring them back. I don’t know anything about Russian but I have a friend that does. But I don’t know how to casually say “hey, can you give me Russian nicknames of endearment. It’s for research.”. Keqing radiates professional in the front, social anxiety in the back. I just love that they added the detail that she’s secretly a Rex Lapis fan but pretends that she hates him. I know there is art of Zhongli lowkey being creeped out or vv smug when he find’s Keqings stash but idk, imagining him being a proud dad and giving headpats even though Keqing is an adult. 

Okay. Let me level with you. Sticky notes of reassuring phrases are the best and why the fuck aren’t people doing it more. I’ve been reading “my mom left a note on the table” or “my partner puts sticky notes in my textbooks as a pick me up” for CENTURIES but am I seeing it in real life? Fuck no. Please, if someone does this for you. Keep them, never let them go. I can imagine Diluc writing these messages, feeling confident when he writes them and ready to be a supportive person. The next day he’s looking at these notes and thinking “what the fuck did I just write, this is garbage” (totally not how I feel about my writing). Then he proceeds to throw them in some cabinet but since Kaeya doesn’t know the first thing about personal boundaries he goes snooping around in Diluc’s room, discovers the notes, and he ends up taking them and putting them on Keqing’s things. It makes her happy so Diluc is going to ignore the very pressing issue with whether or not he should commit manslaughter. 

You know, that’s very valid. That’s how I feel about Kaeya’s relationship with Lisa or Albedo. People that don’t get riled up or annoyed by his antics the same way Amber is. I feel like if you’re looking for small talk, he’s not a bad choice, but if you want those deep 3am conversations he’s definitely the person to go to. Zhongli isn’t a bad choice either but Zhongli tends to go into historical and philosophical moments (which isn’t bad) but you want to have someone relate to you or it feels like an actual conversation and not a history lesson then he’s actually perfect. Especially more controversial topics, I feel like Kaeya would probably have very different opinions from the norm. 

YES. YES. YES I’m replying to these as I read them but YES. Honestly, I get it. Zhongli is a super polite and respectable person. But. But. Have you seen how he clowned on Childe?? That entire interaction?? He didn’t even look the slightest big apologetic for almost destroying Liyue and using the man who was going to kill him to pay for his funeral. What a power move?? And you’re telling me you don’t see him being a smug prick. I love Zhongli’s story quest where everyone is saying “oh the first mora was treasured or it holds mythical powers” and Zhongli is looking at them as if they’re idiots. 

tyty (❤´艸｀❤) I’m blessed to have you here. Oh, I hope you did well on your midterms tho and be sure to rest. I am a bit late to replying to this so hopefully I caught you before your break was over.

Always lovely hearing from you,

Pengu

[iceeckos12]

tma fic recs

I’ve seen a couple of fic rec posts floating around. since ive been reading so many excellent fic recently, i thought that id make one as well! please note this list is going to be 99% jonmartin. also buckle up, because this is going to get long.

Completed

the umbrella by Wildehack (tyleet)

"And to think—all of Jonah Magnus’ carefully laid plans, the centuries of scheming, the murders, the sacrifices, all of that work could have been completely undone if Martin Blackwood had gone back for an umbrella" - holdthosebees

Notes: This is probably my go-to fic if i want an apocalypse never happened scenario. The jonmartin is wonderful, as is the h/c.

Diary and Prenon-nous la main by luftballoons99

Diary summary:

Not for the first time since they ran away together, a camera reel of all the things they don't know about one another whirs behind Martin's eyes, and he can't help but look at all the sprawling magnetic tape and wonder if they’re going to wind up a romance or a tragedy.

or: Office parties, garage bands, and the joy of being known.

Prenon-nous la main summary:

They still haven't talked about it, any of it, not even to pass the time on the long train ride to Scotland. Instead, Martin fell asleep in the seat next to him, pressed into his side from shoulder to knee, and Jon thought about love confessions and verb tense and how the two fit together when you think you're dying.

or: Good cows, mediocre poetry, and other crucial topics of discussion.

Notes: Do you love impeccable safehouse jonmartin characterization? do you love characters grappling with the mortifying ordeal of being known? do you love softness so tender that it makes you want to weep? please read these fic. im begging you.

i’ll tell you about all the times i’ve smiled because of you by cryptidkidprem

Summary:

Martin thinks about their shoes, sitting beside each other on the floor by the bed. Thinks of the way Jon wears Martin’s cardigans more often than he wears his own, the way Martin’s started keeping elastics around his wrist because Jon always forgets his own when they go out.

He thinks about all the gentle touches and fussing over each other they’ve done, and how much is still to come over the next… however long Jon will have him.

They have a long way to go, an entire life to build out of the wreckage Jonah Magnus and Peter Lukas left them, but laying together in a comfortable, sleepy quiet, Martin thinks they’ve got a good start going.

Or, Jon quits the Institute, saves the world, and it turns out to be exactly what he needs in order to heal and start moving forward towards building a life with Martin.

Notes: how many times have i reread this fic? more than i can count. jon quits the institute and it’s just full of soft jonmartins. they get married! god i love them.

go softly by doomcountry

Summary:

And there is nothing else besides this.

Notes: every time i remember this fic i reread it. please heed the tags because martin is blinding jon, but he’s like. blinding jon in the most heartbreaking way possible. idk how the author made this so tender but i know i was certainly crying so!

The Reverb in These Holy Halls by  Wolftraps (AlwaysBoth)

Summary:

Undoing the apocalypse would have been enough for Jon, if all his people survived. Without them, Jon's only recourse is making it so it never happened in the first place. He's going to do better this time.

Notes: Do you like time travel fixits? i sure like time travel fixits. reverb is an excellent one. heavy on the h/c, I wanted to hug jon so so badly. 

Yesterday is Here by  CirrusGrey

Summary:

"Who the hell are you?" Jon could feel his hands shaking. The man laughed, taking a step forward and raising a hand to point at him. "I'm you, from the future!" he said, then swayed, eyes going unfocused, and collapsed to the floor in a dead faint. -------- Post-season-four Jon and Martin time travel back to the season one Archives.

Notes: Yet another time travel fixit! also excellent. the teasing was HYSTERICAL. also Im just going to say this now - CirrusGrey in general writes incredible tma fic. You can’t really go wrong.

unassigned supplementals by  bibliocratic 

Notes: I won’t put in a summary just because it’s a long series of oneshots, but bibliocratic’s writing is amazing. Again, you can’t really go wrong with one of their fic!

let the soft animal of your body by autoclaves

Summary:

Standing in the warm kitchen, slats of sepia light filtering through onto the counter in front of him, Martin doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He half expects them to go through the countertop entirely, glossy and solid as it is. He isn’t used to any of it, yet. The safehouse. Jon. Beams of sun pouring into his hands. After being deprived of everything of significance for so long, the longing that crashes over him is almost painful in its tangibility. He wants to laugh, to sob, to scream and hear it echoed back against the neat, square walls of the safehouse.

In the end, he doesn’t do any of these things. He makes eggs instead. He can do that, can’t he? Use his hands for something simple and plain and good.

(Or: In the safehouse after it all, Martin starts cooking.)

Notes: this fic really speaks to me a) because i project on martin like crazy and b) because food is also my love language. this fic is incredibly soft and it’s all about cooking!

“Have you tried turning it on and off again?” by shinyopals

Summary:

I hope you find your new role as Head of the Institute as rewarding as captaining the Tundra, wrote Elias Bouchard, to Peter Lukas. There are so many people working there: all with their own interesting lives, and all desiring your attention and support. I'm sure you will relish the challenge it will bring and enjoy every moment spent with the fine men and women of the Institute. In time I'm confident they'll become like a family to you.

The Magnus Institute has a new boss. The Magnus Institute also has a new tech support technician. These two facts are unrelated, except they both happen at the same time.

Meanwhile Jon's woken up from being dead for six months and for once he's trying his best. He just wishes Martin would stop avoiding him and answer his messages...

Notes: if you’re looking for a good laugh, this fic is SO SO SO FUNNY. i was dying. basically the magnus institute being an absolute bureaucratic nightmare.

hello my old heart  by  firebirdsuite

Summary:

Peter’s wrong, of course. When it’s all over, Martin does still want to tell Jon everything. It’s just—well, there’s a few things they need to work through first before they can get there.

Martin and Jon find each other again in Scotland.

Notes: it’s all about the yearning. and trust me, the yearning in this fic? im just. i sure do love jonmartin, and this is such soft, loving jonmartin it just makes you want to cry

two ships passing by pyrites

Summary:

Gerard Keay is 10 years old the very first time he tries to run away from home, right around the time that Jonathan Sims has just come into possession of his first Leitner.

Or: One dropped stone can change the way the whole ocean moves.

Notes: again, JONGERRY. MY GOODNESS. this fic is beautiful, the writing is absolutely breathtaking and it owns my heart. im so in love with it. the author said you’re going to have emotions about jon and gerry and jongerry and i said OKAY

Terminal Sight by viv_is_spooky

Summary:

Spider silk weaves through the visions of two Seers. Monstrosity is dawning on them both.

Notes: I’d never read a gerryoliver fic before this, but the execution is EXCELLENT and now im sold on the ship forever. This fic has wonderful prose and great characterization and i love it a whole lot.

Incomplete

assistant archivist au by  PitViperOfDoom

Notes: I won’t put a summary since I’m reccing an entire series, but. it is absolutely no secret that i adore jongerry. pit’s assistant archivist au slapped me over the head with some gorgeous jongerry oneshots and then gave me the gift of the main fic (which is still in progress) about head archivist martin. i love this au so so much

dustsceawung by  callmearcturus

Summary:

Martin had always been favored by the summer courts, and moving up north to the little village of Lacuna is a difficult adjustment. It's rainy and lonely and everyone seems to have a strange, distant relationship with the local faerie court.

However: there is a strange man in a cloak who walks past Martin's remote little cottage every few days.

However: there is a moth that keeps getting stuck in Martin's house during the rain.

These events are not as disconnected as they first appear.

Notes: you ever just read a fic that you didn’t know that you needed until after you read it? yeah. featuring the fae and moth jon and excellent characterization.

Illicio by ThatOneGirlBehindYou

As the new Archivist debates between life and death, the Eye ponders on what to offer him in order to avoid an encore of the unfortunate situation with his predecessor.

-----

Gerard Keay opens his eyes at what feels like fuck-ass in the morning, inside a room with far too little space and far too much dust.

Notes: This is also the moment where I reveal that im a sucker for jongerrymartin. please read this fic. gerry is brought back from the dead in s4 and everyone is far better off for it.

where there’s a will, we make a way by bubonickitten

Summary:

"So, what does happen if an Eye learns to See within itself?

What happens is this: the Archive Beholds the Watcher – and the Watcher blinks first."

________________________

Jon goes back to before the world ended and tries to forge a different path.

Notes: this time travel fixit is shaping up to be an absolutely incredible read. i love the way this author writes jon so so much, and the characterization is spot on. this whole fic just satisfies some little part of me. god. also!! bubonickitten’s writing in general? beautiful. please check out their other works.

The Timeline of Theseus by Applea

Jon tries to force the Spiral to send him back, but the Sprial's corridors never twist things quite the way you want them to. Back in 1996, Elias has no idea why or how the Eye made such a powerful Avatar out of an 8 year old, especially when said 8 year old doesn't actually know he has any powers at all. Clearly such a child cannot be left outside the Institute's care. 

Notes: This fic is legitimately brilliant. The author manages to capture the big ADHD mood and the precociousness of baby Jon while managing to write a wonderful storyline. Time travel! Elderly lesbians! A Jonah who is wildly in over his head but was walloped over the head with paternal instinct! Baby Gerry! What more could you possibly ask for?

rooms full of people who do not love each other yet by seaer

Summary:

“Wanted to ask about a book.” The boy has his hand on the counter, and he leans into it, nonchalant. The library is air-conditioned, but by no means frigid, and Jon can’t help but feel sweaty just looking at the layers he’s wearing; what looks like old leather over an olive-green Magnus pullover over his school shirt. “Do you have A Journal of the Plague Year?”

Jon says, tetchily, “We’re about to close.”

“I know. Do you have A Journal of the Plague Year?”

Notes: I am so in love with this author’s writing style and the way they write the characters!! The jon and gerry friendship is PERFECT and the character interactions are all darling.

if you read these fics please send the authors some love, they definitely deserve it!! 

[thetomorrowshow]

a jig in plaited time

Happy holidays, @under-the-blue-moonlight ! I really enjoyed writing up some intrulogical content for you (and this may actually get additional chapters lol, I’m really happy with it).

Here is your @sanderssidesgiftxchange gift!

ships: Intrulogical, background Royality

cw: anxiety, intrusive thoughts, panic attack, mannequins, mentions of food

~

Why was Remus at the mall?

That was a simple question, with a just as simple answer. He was at the mall for a suit and tie, one he needed for his brother's wedding. It needed to be “salmon” or whatever, with a blue tie.

A much less simple answer was to the next question.

Why was Remus at the mall on Black Friday?

In all honesty, Remus hadn't known about Black Friday until he arrived. He hadn't really had a good feeling about it on the way here, but he'd paid no mind to his instincts. He didn't often have a good feeling about anything. There had been far too many cars for this time of morning on a weekday. What had really tipped him off, though, was the huge sign in the window of Nordstrom's.

'BLACK FRIDAY SALE!'

Even at that point he wasn't entirely sure what that meant. It became far more clear when he entered the building to find it absolutely packed. Well, there could be an upside to this. Maybe there would be a sale on the suit he needed.

Remus hadn't been this close to someone since he was in the womb, and he could not say that he was very comfortable with it. Remus didn't care much for close spaces and touching people, he hadn't since middle school. It just made him feel sort of icky.

As soon as possible, he ducked out of Nordstrom's, only to find that the rest of the mall was in a similar condition. JC Penney actually looked worse. Normally when Remus was feeling overwhelmed, he'd sidle into Hot Topic or somewhere else with obnoxiously loud music. By drowning his feelings in the noise, he generally was able to recollect himself. The mall was certainly loud, but not in a good way at all. Even if he tried to find someplace with music, he wouldn't be able to enjoy it with all these people.

Remus was stressed. But he needed this suit, seeing as his brother's wedding was literally tomorrow. Why did he leave it this late? Well, Remus knew he was nothing if not a master procrastinator. He also knew he couldn’t be the only one.

Remus waded his way through the crowd to a relatively people-free corner and wiggled his phone out of the pockets of his definitely too-small jeans (not that he'd admit they were too small out loud—his brother had told him they were on every occasion he wore them) and texted the wedding group chat.

Remus: hey im at the mall. anything yall need?

Robro: Why are you at the mall on black friday?

Patty-Cake: ooh can you get me a pair of sunglasses? Mine broke last week

Remus: sure. stuff for wedding?

Robro: idk. Let me ask mom

Remus shoved his phone back in his pocket, then extracted it again as it buzzed a moment later.

Robro: Yeah mom says get some classy decor or something

Ant: I don't think remus knows what classy means

Remus: shut up i got this

Toby: wait what's going on? It's like 10am why are you all awake

Robro: idk if you knew this tobes but I'm getting married tomorrow

Toby: shut up man

Ant: even Remy knows

Sleep: even i know loser

Remus: toby do u need help

Toby: I hate it heeere

Patty-Cake: Aw Toby that isn't very nice! And good morning everyone!

Robro: hello sunshine!! <3

Sleep: i need you both to not start that

Remus: get a room dorks

Okay, classy decor. Sunglasses for the groom. Pink suit. Blue tie. Probably some dress shoes. A wedding present. Dress socks too. Did Remus need to have a tie pin? He'd ask later. Napkins, definitely. No one ever had enough napkins at events. Did he need to have a pocket handkerchief?

Remus checked the list of what his suit needed that Roman had sent him a month or two ago. Yes, a blue pocket square. This was a lot.

Remus swallowed back his sudden panic and took a few deep breaths, jamming his still-buzzing phone back into his pocket. He could do this. Sunglasses first, there was a Sunglasses Hut within eyesight. All he had to do was fight through the crowd.

He reached the kiosk with few incidents and surveyed the sleek glasses for five minutes before seeing a pair that were shaped like a cartoon frog. Patton would love those. And if he didn't, then Remus just got a neat pair of sunglasses! He purchased the glasses and moved on to the next place to conquer.

-

By the time Remus was back at Nordstrom's, he was completely out of energy. Nordstrom's had two levels, and so much stuff, and so many people. He still had to get the suit and socks, and the wedding present. Maybe it seemed like he hadn't done much, but he had actually done a lot, considering how busy the mall was. He'd barely escaped a fistfight outside of the electronics store. The fact that he'd been able to get shoes and so-called 'classy decor' and napkins? Remus was pretty proud, all things considered.

Nordstrom's was even busier than when he left, which was certainly distressing. Remus couldn't even see any clothes. Was that a mannequin or a really tall lady? Was that the escalator, or a bunch of people climbing on top of each other?

What if I set off a bomb right here? Would the whole tower fall down, the ones on top not actually hurt until they hit the ground?

Remus shook off the intrusive thought. This was getting bad. It was already almost one—that meant that not only was he stressed, but he was getting hungry. His thoughts would continue to devolve until he got out of here and got some food.

I could eat that man! That would certainly clear the place out, and I'm sure he's delicious!

Remus groaned. He needed to sit down, but there were no seats free anywhere. He hefted his bags higher on his shoulders and forged on. He had to get this suit, or else the wedding would be ruined. The man in question (who was fairly attractive) bumped him, and Remus had to close his eyes to fight his brain. This was getting out of hand.

There was a little square cut out in the wall where a headless mannequin stood, no doubt showing off the latest in boys' fashion. Remus ducked between its legs and pushed his back up against the wall, knees drawn up close to his chest. He pulled out his phone with some difficulty.

Remus: hey so ro does my suit need a tie pin

Robro: Don't worry abt it, mom got matching tie pins for everyone

Sleep: ree babes are you buying ur suit now?

Remus: shut up

Sleep: on black friday?

Remus: no

Ant: did you even know it was black friday

Remus: ...

Toby: wait the wedding is tmrrw

Robro: Believe me tobias I'm aware

Remus: yah ik im not buying the whole suit just shoes

Robro: Good I almost had a heart attack, you almost certainly wouldn't be able to find one

Now truly panicking, Remus dropped his phone onto his stomach and buried his fists in his hair. How was he supposed to find a salmon suit and a blue tie, as well as nice socks? Plus a wedding present? Especially in this crowd, when he had no clue where to even look for a suit. And he still had to go to the party tonight, then the wedding tomorrow, and it was so loud. Everyone was yelling over each other, and Remus couldn't even hear his own thoughts—except the bad ones. Why did he have to put this off so long? He needed out, he wasn't going to be able to get any of the stuff, he was going to ruin the wedding, like he ruined everything—

“Hello, may I help you?”

Remus looked up—at least, as up as he could look, with a mannequin just above him—to see a bespectacled store clerk looking down at him. 'Logan', his nametag read.

Remus opened his mouth, then closed it again before a string of curses could come out. He really wasn't doing well. There was just too much, too much everything.

“Is there anything I can help you find?” Logan asked, his voice rumbling a bit—or maybe it was the thunder of people in the shop. Whatever it was, it made Remus's stomach drop a little.

“Um, uh, pink!” If Remus had any shame, he would have slapped his own face. As it was, he started trying to pantomime a suit while stuck in a tiny hollow in the wall. Logan watched kindly, his face not betraying the disgust he was probably feeling.

“Pink what? Shirt?” Logan guessed. Remus shook his head, running his hands down his legs. Pants too, pants too.

“Pink . . . coat? Shorts? Pants?”

Remus traced back over his arms, almost crying. Here he was, bothering this poor clerk with his stupid non-verbal self.

“A pink suit?”

Remus jumped for joy, hitting his head on the crotch of the mannequin, instantly shuddering at the thoughts that flooded into his head. Logan held out a hand, and Remus took it, allowing himself to be pulled out of the wall.

“I can direct you to the suit section, right this way.”

Remus let himself be led by Logan, who occasionally looked back to make sure he was still there. The man had a curly mop of dark hair, and was slightly shorter than he was—not that it was a problem. Or anything important. Remus wasn't looking for a date. He was inconveniencing a store clerk on Black Friday. Although, he did need a plus one for the wedding. . . .

No, it was out of the question. He didn't even know this man. Roman would be upset if he ruined the wedding even more by showing up with some rando who would probably jump in the wedding cake or spill food all over the nice tablecloths or turn out to be really ugly because he was just wearing a mask made of someone else's face.

“Here is where the suits are. Do you need anything else?”

Remus stared at him, his mouth opening and shutting a few times. He wanted to say something stupid, like yeah, I need those eyes in my life, or something far more obscene, but he was okay. He could do this. He could survive peopling.

Logan gave him a sympathetic smile. “I can help you find the right suit, if that's what you require.”

Before he could stop himself, Remus was nodding. He let Logan pull him past a crying couple and two arguing families to a rack of suit coats that were red.

“Will these suffice?” the clerk asked, gesturing at them. Remus frowned. They weren't pink. Was the man messing with him? Seeing his look, Logan checked the tag and groaned. “Apologies, I'm colorblind. I could have sworn these were pink. Hopefully the last customer who I pointed this way was not upset.”

That was a joke, right? Remus almost laughed, but knew if he did he would start crying. Logan led him through the crowd with seemingly unending patience, occasionally smiling gently at him. Remus felt his heartrate spike every time one of those smiles was sent his way, but for a reason completely unrelated to the overpowering noise and crowd.

Logan found him a probably very nice pink suit—Remus wasn't really looking at it. Then Logan was kind enough to let him into an employee restroom to try it on, seeing as the dressing rooms had a line that ran all the way to the front doors. It fit nicely, tight (though not as tight as his jeans) and sleek, accompanied with a blue tie that Logan had found while he was changing.

“That looks very sharp on you, sir,” Logan informed him, as Remus blushed.

“Remus,” he blurted out. Logan raised his eyebrows.

“After the character in Roman mythology?” asked Logan, his tone betraying something like excitement. Remus nodded, then looked down at the tie.

“We—didn't look at—at ties yet,” he stammered, trying to make his voice work. “Where—?”

“Ah, it happens to be one of mine,” Logan said. For the first time, he looked a little uncomfortable. “I keep one in my locker for emergencies, and I thought it would look nice on—it would look nice. With the suit.”

Remus finally found the courage to smile back. “Thanks, Specs. Uh, sorry for taking up so much of your time. I'll just buy this, it's dope.”

“Oh no, I do not at all mind assisting you,” Logan said quickly. “At least I don't have to deal with . . . whatever is going on.”

“You could assist me by being my date!”

Logan stared.

Remus clapped a hand over his mouth.

“. . . What?”

“Nothing, nothing nothing,” said Remus. “I just—um—you need to get your tie back right? And I—if you let me, of course—I could just wear it, save money and all that, and you could come and then take it home so that I don't steal it or whatever?” He scrunched his eyes up, turning away so as to catch no sight of Logan rejecting him. Why did he have to say that? The noise pressed down on him again; despite still being in the staff restroom, it was almost too loud to bear.

“Wear it . . . where?”

Remus would already be curled up on the floor were it not for the very un-purchased suit he was currently wearing. “Um, my brother's wedding tomorrow?” he chanced, hands clenched over his eyes.

The utter disbelief in Logan's voice was clear as a bell. “You are buying a suit . . . for a wedding . . . that is tomorrow. On Black Friday, of all days.”

Tears choked Remus's throat. “Y-yeah, I'm really bad at planning.” Why was he even asking this cute clerk out anyway? Just because Roman kept teasing him for not having a date to the wedding? Or did he actually have a crush on Logan?

He searched his feelings briefly, and found almost instantly that he for sure had a crush. Okay, that was a lot to deal with right now. They had just met! It was just . . . the way he smiled at him, the way he didn't abandon him even though he'd been having a panic attack for about an hour at this point, how gentle and kind he was. Not to mention how put-together he was. And his hair? That was just hot.

Now though, just seconds after realizing he liked Logan, the guy was going to reject him because he had run his stupid mouth. Remus cringed. The silence had gone on for far too long.

“Well, I expect you to pick me up an hour before the event begins. I do not currently have my own means of transportation. You are quite fortunate that I do not work tomorrow.”

Wait.

What?

“You—you really—?” Remus's voice broke. He jumped as Logan lay a warm hand over his own, which were still pressed into his eyes.

“Of course,” Logan said kindly. “I know very little about you, but I rather feel that—and no offense meant—you will be distressed at such a large event as a wedding. I would love to continue to assist you.” He coughed, then added, “Also, the streak in your hair is very attractive.”

Remus almost sighed in relief. This was okay. He let Logan pull his hands away from his face, then ran a sleeve over his eyes and nose. Logan froze.

“Well, now you have to buy that suit,” Logan said. As an aside, he muttered, “At least it looks good on you.”

“Aw, Lo, you think I look hot?” Remus asked shakily, managing a smile. “What about my jeans? Think I look good in tight clothes?”

Logan turned away, unfortunately letting go of Remus's hands, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Are you always this insufferable?”

Remus slung an arm around his shoulder. “Yep! And you're stuck with me for a whole date!”

Logan pushed his glasses up his nose. “If it doesn't work out, we can just pretend we never met, if you like. We will both move on with our lives. There is no obligation that comes with this date, we are both free to back out at any time.”

Remus quickly retracted his arm from Logan's shoulder, then nodded. That made sense. He did like Logan, and he didn't want to upset him. Shameless flirting was definitely on the table, though.

“When's your lunch break?” Remus asked, as casually as possible. Logan snorted.

“I only have a twenty minute lunch today, they don't want me to leave them without as much help as possible.” Logan went to open the door and exit the restroom, then glanced back. “One o'clock. I plan on getting a sandwich at the Subway in the hall outside of the store. It would be wonderful if someone would wait in line for me and order me an Italian BMT and a bag of potato chips, so that I am not late in returning.”

Remus grinned. Easy-peasy, and just like that he would get to spend some time with Logan before the wedding.

Logan made to leave, but Remus grabbed his arm. “One sec, hot stuff,” he said, butterflies racing through his stomach at Logan's blush, “not to bother you any more or anything, but do you have any suggestions for a wedding present?”

The utter disbelief on Logan's face completely wiped out any blush that had been there. “The wedding is tomorrow, Remus.”

Remus's breath caught. Logan said his name. It sounded so beautiful coming from him. If a heavenly chorus had been singing around him at that moment, it would have been dull compared to Logan saying his name.

Logan sighed. “Of course I have some ideas. Do you need anything else?”

Remus pulled himself together, then grabbed his phone from the pile of his clothes on the floor. He checked the list, ignoring the notifications from the group chat.

“Uh, yeah. A pocket square to match the tie, and some nice socks.”

“That's doable. Tell me about your brother and his partner while we find those items. Perhaps you and I can put together an ideal gift.” Logan stepped out of the restroom to give Remus privacy while he changed back into his clothes. Remus shucked the suit off as quickly as possible. All the intense stimulation had blurred into the background, Logan being the only buzz he needed to keep going.

Remus didn't often have a good feeling about anything, but this? Oh yeah, there was definitely something good here.

[my-reality-my-rules]

idk if its appropriate to tell u this sorry if i made u uncomfortable

like I'm a lucid dreamer for 5ish years now and in most my lucid dreams im only half lucid, so like i know its a dream but i follow my primary urges. which are well. food and sex.

last ld i had was super weird, like there was a guy who kept me lucid and kept reminding me to stabilize it and stay lucid and i didn't have clear vision in it so he tried to help me get it

i now actually think it might have been my spirit guide? who like would've tried to help me do shifting methods

okay where im going with this.

yeah i tried to fuck him

maybe he'll appear as a girl next time so i don't get wrong ideas.

[thanks for this ask!]

first off, it's alright. i actually have to commend you for being brave to put that out there. just know that you won't get ridiculed for that here, on this blog, at the very least.

ngl without the context it was kinda funny. but even so, i do think you're right on the shifting aid your guide is trying to give you. I'm not as well versed on the topic of lucid dreaming—as it's not exactly my main method—but I've heard somewhere that perhaps you could try making a dream journal? or something like the sort. obviously, it's for tracking your dreams, but you can also be able to corroborate them with one another when you want to figure out their meaning. perhaps try that out?

I'd love to hear more about your shifting and lucid dreaming journey, in the future, if you're alright with that. I'm also curious on the fact that you mentioned you've had experience with LD for about 5 years now. it's certainly an interesting topic for me, as I've only started trying it out this year. either way, I'm genuinely wondering about it.

i wish you good luck on your journey!! happy shifting ❤️❤️

[elderbwrry]

Even if he doesn't say so

A little darkgingerpilot Witcher AU I discussed months ago with @cleversturmhond I have no concept of how time passes anymore

Summary: The Witcher meets a bard, the bard meets a mage, and they travel the continent. Kylo knows what he feels, but he can't seem to act. Hux acts without talking about things. And Poe... well, what does Poe feel?

Tags: Witcher AU, Inspired by The Witcher, Slow Burn, if you count 13k as slow burn i guess, within the story its slow burn, fantasy medieval setting, Self-Indulgent, Mage Hux, witcher kylo, Bard Poe, scenic, They're oblivious, sex references, Yearning, i guess, im slapping a mature on it for sex references and some minor violence but honestly ehhh idk, darkgingerpilot

Chapter 1/2/3/?, wordcount 5012

also on Ao3

Whenever someone asked Kylo, he always said he preferred to keep to himself and the company of Silence, his horse and his best companion for the very fact of her name; she didn't talk, she didn't disturb the meditative quiet of his lonely rides, and, most importantly, he wasn't unsure how to curry her favour. An apple would do it. His current companions, on the other hand...

For some gods-forsaken reason, Poe and Hux were quarrelling about a composer who had been dead for over a century. When the three of them had first started travelling together years ago, and in the short time since they'd reunited, such discussion had been endearing; both of them were opinionated about certain things, and their conversations often turned into little debates over whatever topic arose while they were travelling. This was one of those occasions, Kylo enjoying listening to their thoughts and voices filling up the worn country roads. A throwaway comment had become interesting; Kylo didn't actually know much about this particular composer, whereas Hux and Poe both did, and, though Kylo didn't often contribute to these discussions in any great detail since the other two were both so much better with words, he did like to learn something new occasionally. But now, several hours into their journey and still on the same subject, it was just getting fucking annoying.

“I literally studied her work. You can't just turn around and say she wasn't revolutionary,” Poe objected, trotting along between Silence and Hux's own horse on the wide bridleway, looking up at Hux indignantly.

Poe's lowered position made it seem slightly laughable when Hux looked down at him and countered, “Since I actually met the woman, I think you'll find I can,” before prompting his horse to walk on ahead of them.

Poe picked up his pace a little and continued the argument, making some musical point Kylo didn't understand either. He tried to tune them out a bit as he let Silence drop back a short distance behind the them.

Considering how much time the three of them spent around each other in recent years, Kylo supposed he should be glad disagreements as lengthy as these were relatively few. And, certainly, they were fewer even than when it had only been Kylo and Poe on the path together.

[break]

Kylo had met Poe many years ago – at least a decade, if he thought about it – when he'd been compelled by his work to go through the city he'd been born in. Not only was the place particularly unfriendly to Witchers, but also had relations of his – distant now, yet he wanted to avoid them nonetheless – in positions of authority. Kylo had used a fake name, a low hood to hide his eyes, his scar, and stuck to the dingiest taverns, but a curly-haired, high-born young man had recognised him anyway, sitting himself down confidently at Kylo's corner table, offering his name, and saying, “I know you. You're that famous Witcher.”

Kylo had eyed his unwelcome acquaintance – Poewas what he introduced himself as – guessing that he couldn't yet be twenty summers old. Of course, Kylo was no good with ages – his own longevity had corroded his sense for them until everyone seemed either old or young in confusing measures – but Poe's next request had practically confirmed his suspicion.

“Would you let me come with you?” Poe had asked the second the bar-wench had placed down Kylo's ale.

“Come with me where?” Kylo grunted. He wasn't in the mood to bodyguard some noble, out for the first time in a world without castle walls.

“Well, where are you going?” Poe's eyes had glinted as he offered Kylo a charming smile.

Kylo had appraised him again, taking in his youth, his rich clothes, his courage, and summarily said, “No.”

Poe's smile didn't drop, even though Kylo could see his only half-amused chuckle for the frustration it was. “Come on, I just wanna see a bit of the world. Get away from my guardian's expectations.”

“The Queen?” Kylo had asked, an imprudently displayed gold ring on the youth's finger catching the light.

Poe had shrugged a yes.

It only made Kylo refuse all the more. The Queen was one of the people Kylo was known to by unfortunate fact of his heritage, someone he never wanted to anger, in case of her having some cause to meet with him personally. Poe, while not her blood family, would surely be missed, as her ward, were he to make off with a Witcher, especially with the one so primarily known for the massacre at Crait.

Poe's gaze went steely at Kylo's final dismissal, and he'd left the tavern quickly after that. It couldn't have been two years later when Kylo encountered the young man again, fine doublet swapped for something a little more incognito in orange and brown tones, a lute slung over his back and all the more determination to see everything.

Kylo hadn't refused him a second time, and he wouldn't have been able to, since Poe no longer had any qualms about following him uninvited. Thus, he had a new travelling companion.

Just as he suspected, Poe was a liability in some aspects of the job where monsters were concerned, but Poe had also dragged him, limping, back to camp before, bandaged his wounds, fetched his potions. His life had undeniably turned for the better with the bard around; Poe was a talented musician, it turned out, and the extra income and incentive to stay at inns meant Kylo was now more acquainted with feather pillows than he'd ever hoped to be. The positive company had made Kylo better as well, at talking to people, at putting up with them, at giving life nuance. His path was lighter with Poe on it.

They became comfortable around each other. They began to argue, about the silly things people who know each other well and cared for each other deeply argue about, about which direction to head in, which inn to stop at, about the jacket Kylo had left to get trampled by the last monster he'd fought. Barely a day went by without some kind of silly quibble to that effect, but it never truly changed the form of their relationship.

Then, they'd met Hux.

[break]

Kylo had been around long enough that he'd thought he'd heard of most of the other powerful, non-mortal beings on the continent, so randomly running into an evidently strong mage like Hux, who he'd never heard of, was a bit surprising. Kylo had been employed to go and rid a keep up on the hill of whatever it was that was plaguing it. He was expecting to take a while to figure it out, but when he arrived, the malevolent spirits were revealed easily by the mage already locked in battle with them.

The fight the man was putting up was impressive, given the sheer number of foes. He was spewing fire everywhere, manipulating the elements to his will, his bright hair and swan-white robe whipped around by the wind he was creating, but eventually Kylo could see he was losing, and so joined him in the fight. It was fortuitous that they were both there, as Kylo certainly couldn't have defeated them all on his own either. When the last spirit was destroyed, however, Hux had spun round, announced that he had decidedly notrequired the help of some filthy Witcher, and flounced off. He'd gotten about ten paces when he collapsed from the sheer exertion of having used his magic in such a manner.

So Kylo had carried the mage back to camp and laid him down on his bedroll to recuperate.

Poe was travelling with Kylo at that time, and, though he was surprised to see Hux, he seemed very glad to see Kylo back from the fight, juiced up on potions but otherwise unharmed. His smile had made Kylo's heart do something he didn't really understand, the same thing it did when Poe met his gaze during a performance at whatever tavern they were staying at, the same when Kylo said something complimentary to him. Indeed, it was becoming more and more of a common feeling, and Kylo was finding that he rather liked it.

When Kylo suggested he should probably go find a rabbit or something for dinner, Poe seemed happy enough to watch over the mage until he returned, and Kylo had picked his way into the forest they were camping on the edge of with his head full of thoughts of Poe. His distraction had meant he took longer than usual to catch something, and when he got back, it was to find Poe backed against a tree, Hux threatening him using a dagger Kylo hadn't realised he'd had on him.

“Kylo!” Poe had shouted when he saw him – and again, the weird thing Kylo's heart did around Poe – equal parts relieved and pissed off.

Hux relaxed only slightly at knowing whose camp it was he had been brought to, and, once Kylo had convinced him to lower the weapon, he protested strongly that he didn't want anyone's help or charity, and that he was offended to have been carried around like some damsel. Poe told him he was very welcome to fuck off, but it soon became clear that Hux wasn't in any shape to be going off on his own, so he stayed with them that night.

Kylo was settling in to sleep on the opposite side of the fire to Hux when Poe dumped his bedroll down next to him, closer than usual – cue the weird heart thing again – and lay down. All Kylo had managed to ask was, “What are you doing?”

Huffing, Poe leaned up to peer over Kylo's arm at where Hux was lying, turned away from them on the far side of their little camp. “He tried to kill me today. I don't wanna wake up with my throat cut for some magey shit.”

Kylo considered pointing out that Poe wouldn't wake up at all if his throat had been slit, but he was more struck by the implication that Poe was trusting him to protect him. Usually, people were more likely to fear that Kylo would be the one killing them after whatever monster he'd been hired to dispatch, but Poe was different, and always had been, really. He insisted that Kylo had good in him, that he wasn't all the darkness that Witchers were supposed to be. He wasn't entirely right, of course, but it was nice to have someone hope in him.

So instead of making the bard move away, all Kylo had said was, “You'll get cold, so far from the fire,” and offered Poe an extra side of his own blanket.

One night of Hux staying with them turned into two, into three, into a week's travel to the neighbouring city. In fact, Kylo was almost sad to see the severe mage leave, as it meant he and Poe went back to their usual sleeping arrangements, instead of curling up together with Kylo as his shield.

[break]

Months later, to Kylo's surprise, Hux sought him out. He was after a gem of something something and he needed hired muscle that he could trust would actually get the job done. Hux had found them by the coast, and the first thing he said as he took Poe in was, “You're still travelling with him, are you?” Kylo wasn't sure whether the question was meant for him or Poe, but they'd both answered definitively.

The month and a half of travel it took to reach the mountain cave system in which the gem was kept saw Poe and Hux grow accustomed to each other, if not strictly friendly. Poe didn't resume his habit of sleeping next to Kylo, Hux didn't try to kill Poe again, and eventually they stopped speaking to each other in jibes and barbs.

Hux and Kylo also ended up bonding; they would sit together in taverns while Poe was performing and talk, about things that they remembered from when they were young, things Poe had learned only from his history professors. It was nice to have someone who related, who had experienced similar things to him, who understood what it was to be not-quite human and tied to a duty they didn't quite want. Hux had been raised in magic, it turned out, and, as they talked, Kylo realised it wasn't so different to being raised into killing as he had been. The small, commiserating smiles Hux offered struck Kylo deeply, and one day he realised that Hux, bathed in the yellow, glowing tavern light, was beautiful.

When they reached the cave systems that were their destination, Poe had to stay in the local town while Hux and Kylo went in search of the gem, since the place was too unknown and dangerous to risk him coming. And it did turn out to be dangerous; Hux and Kylo each saved each others' life a few times, had several close calls, and, once all the stress and danger of the adventure had turned into the satisfaction of success, they translated that pent-up tension into a vigorous fuck on the way out.

“I don't know why you keep him around,” Hux commented as they trudged back to the town to meet Poe, gem firmly in his grasp. “He can't help you with your work like I could.”

Kylo supposed that was true. “He helps me be better,” Kylo replied, which was also true.

Hux made a derisive sound. “Does he, now.”

Kylo shook his head at Hux's tone. “Why don't you like him? You have plenty in common.”

“It's not that I don't like him,” Hux said, tossing his head to get a strand of hair which had slipped in front of his eyes out of the way. Considering Kylo was grimy and dishevelled from the fighting, Hux's deep crimson tunic still looked remarkably put together, and it gave him a haughty air as he said, “I know his type. I've served them in courts all over the continent for centuries. They think they're entitled to everything without working for it and without thanking the people who actually make it possible. He's just another ungrateful, mortal noble.”

Kylo thought about what he said for a good minute. “You're wrong,” he said.

[break]

Back at the inn, Poe had the entire town in the palm of his hand thanks to his songs. He looked charming as ever, flashing smiles to all the ladies who were fawning over him, but Kylo was happy to see that, when Poe spotted them enter, his smile softened and a new light entered his eyes. This time, the flip in Kylo's heart felt more natural than ever.

When Kylo emerged from the bathhouse, Poe was already waiting in his room for a full account of the adventure so he could turn it into his latest ballad. Kylo related what happened as he usually did, keeping to the bare facts and trusting Poe to make them into pretty wordplay later, until he got to the end, at which point he decided that Poe didn't strictly need to know that Hux had pushed him up against the wall of the cave and kissed him with a ferocity he wasn't likely to forget any time soon.

But Poe noticed the brief hesitation and looked up from his little book where he'd been scribbling notes. “What?” he asked.

Kylo shrugged. “Nothing. We left to come back here,” he said, pulling the shirt he was wearing off and reaching for a different one.

“Did something bite you?”

Kylo could hear the frown in Poe's voice, and he turned back to see Poe's eyes locked on a slightly bruised, reddish ring low on his neck. A vague recollection surfaced in Kylo's mind of Hux tugging down his collar, once his outer layer of armour was off, and digging his teeth hard into the flesh over that spot. He hummed, reaching up to rub at it and thus hide it from Poe's sight. “Must have.”

Poe stood up and approached, batting Kylo's hand out of the way, which he couldn't find the motivation to resist. When Poe ran his thumb over the bruise, he was so warm Kylo pushed into the touch. If Poe noticed, he didn't comment, his brow was deeply furrowed. “What kind of monster even has teeth like that?”

A knock came on the door. “Kylo,” Hux called from outside, “we need to talk about payment.”

“I'm...” Kylo hesitated, feeling strangely and suddenly like he'd betrayed Poe. “I'm coming.”

Kylo wasn't sure what about him looked guilty, but Poe seemed to realise at that moment where the mark came from. “Oh,” he said, stepping away and back to his book.

Not long after that, Poe announced his intention to head back to his home kingdom. Kylo's mouth went dry. It was Hux who had to ask the platitudes – did he have some business to attend to? How long did he think he would stay? - which Poe replied to blandly, something about responsibility to his mentors. Kylo wanted to ask him to stop, to stay, but all he managed to get out was, “I'll miss you.”

[break]

Time passed.

Poe left for home, taking his light and song with him.

Kylo spent one winter with Hux, back in the keep where they'd first met, which Hux had appropriated for himself, but it was all wrong; there was a grounding influence missing, without which the two of them spent more time treating each other angrily than well. The sex was amazing, but eventually, it felt hollow. The day it became clear that the harshest weather had blown over, Kylo was back on Silence, looking for the next contract out on a monster, something he could hack into pieces without thinking.

The seasons changed, fled and returned until it had been another year. Kylo was firmly back in the blank swing of contract, monster, payment, move along, but the campfire felt lonely after dark, when he had nothing to occupy his mind. He started talking to Silence; she never replied.

Sometimes, Kylo found himself wondering how long it would be until he ran into Hux again, and if he would even want to see him. Maybe he could make the way they left things up to him. They'd had something, after all, and, though it hadn't been perfect, he missed that feeling of love and understanding and protection which Hux provided. Kylo didn't hold out much hope of seeing Poe; he never went near his home city, and why would Poe venture out again? He'd seen his share of the world. He was back in his real life, now.

But eventually, those nights of wondering wore Kylo down, and, quite without intending to, he found himself directing Silence down the path to the kingdoms neighbouring Poe's.

There, Kylo found himself invited to the royal tourney of Queen Phasma, as a guest of honour. She was a renowned warrior, and Kylo reasoned that it would be rude to decline the request of such an esteemed ruler. He reasoned that perhaps she would even have some work for him. He reasoned a lot of things, in his attempt to deny to himself that the real reason was hope that a tourney would be more than enough cause for a neighbouring noble to be in the area, or even just a bard...

The festivities were festivities. It was strange, to watch others fight instead of having to do it himself, and for performance rather than necessity. Though sometimes the rush of people grated on him, Phasma was a gracious host and Kylo enjoyed the good food well enough, always keeping an eye out for some shock of red hair, or those cheerful, dark curls he so hoped for.

His vigilance yielded one of those prizes.

A tall, beautiful, severe looking man entered the great hall one evening for the feast, walking directly up to the main table at which Phasma and Kylo were seated, and didn't even falter when he recognised Kylo's distinctive scar, yellow eyes, dark garb.

“Hux!” Phasma exclaimed standing and marching around the table to pull the man into a hug, which he returned with surprising readiness, “My dear friend, it has been too long!”

Hux gave a half-bow. “I'm sorry I'm late, I was caught up with business.”

“Ah, yes, business,” Phasma said knowingly, “and where is Lord Dameron?”

Hux's eyes flitted over to Kylo's for the briefest of seconds. “Altogether too caught up with his teaching to bother with a tournament, I'm afraid.”

“Well you must tell him I want him at the next one.” With that, she made to retake her seat again, gesturing at Kylo. “Kylo, this is Hux, currently an advisor to court in the neighbouring kingdom and the most talented mage in all the continent. Hux, Kylo, the Witcher.”

“Yes, we've met,” Hux understated, settling his gaze on Kylo fully, now, and extending his hand to Kylo over the table. Not sure what he was expected to do, Kylo gave Hux his hand, and Hux took it, raising it to his lips and kissing Kylo's knuckles.

Kylo wasn't entirely certain if he could blush any more, since the mutations which had turned him into a Witcher, but if he could, he was sure he was, what with so many people around to witness a display of affection which Kylo was unused to at the best of times. Along with that, relief, because it made him feel suddenly like all was forgiven without him having to wrangle the words around an apology.

“Hux, stop that and sit down!” Phasma reprimanded, “The players will begin soon.”

It was only as Hux sat down that Kylo realised the empty chair on his right had likely always been for Hux. No sooner had he settled than the players flooded the floor, dancing into their performance of an old, famous play, something about two supernatural kings vying for the affection of a mortal with all sorts of fanciful gifts.

“This version is better than the original,” Hux remarked a short while in, and Kylo hummed out an assent, though he had never seen it when it first was performed. He was probably too busy wading through drowner guts, or something similarly uncouth.

“So, you're in Poe's court, now?” Kylo asked instead. “Is he king?”

“No,” Hux remarked, picking up his goblet of wine and keeping his gaze on the players. “Nor does he want to be. The Queen has plenty of other worthy successors, and Poe would much rather go back to spending his days as a bard.” He tutted. “Even if he doesn't say so.”

“Why are you there?”

He sighed. “I wanted to see what you meant about him not being like the others, so I offered my services to the Queen.” Kylo hummed again, and this time, Hux turned to look at him. “You were quite right. He's different. I find myself rather taken with him.”

Kylo reached for his own wine now, his mouth suddenly dry. “Oh. Have you..?”

“No. Kylo...” Hux placed his cup down and leaned to the side so his shoulder was brushing Kylo's, even as Kylo was resolutely not looking at him. “He misses you. And I know you miss him.”

As if by design, the lutist started to play, and both their eyes went to the young woman performing in the corner. Kylo found himself thinking, perhaps uncharitably, that she wasn't as talented as Poe, her song wasn't as sweet.

Hux didn't fail to notice this. “I think we should travel together again,” he said.

“We?”

“You and I and Poe,” Hux said, as though it were obvious. “Like we did those few months travelling in from the coast. I've found myself thinking about them a lot.”

Kylo shrugged. “It was only a few months. Things have changed since then.”

“Which is why we should give it another try.” Kylo jolted in slight surprise when he felt Hux's cool hand lay over his own on the arm of the chair. He turned to find Hux looking directly into his eyes. “Stay here for a week after the tourney is over, and I'll have convinced him to come. Kylo.” A tacit command from Hux, as usual, instead of a request.

Kylo nodded.

[break]

So Kylo waited by the city gates, where Hux had sent a messenger bird that he should meet them. He was nervous, when he first spotted the black dot on the distant path that he was sure was them, shuffling from one foot to the other and gripping Silence's reins tight, like that would do anything. He was wondering how he should greet Poe; hello, certainly, and he didn't think he'd be able to stop himself from smiling, but he found that he also wanted to give him a hug, press their lips together, feel that he was really thereagain, after the nearly two years they'd spent apart.

It turned out he needn't have worried, since Poe sprang forward and clasped him into a hug without prompting, talking immediately about where they would be going and how good it would be to be back on the road.

Hux had merely given him a look that said I told you so, and followed after the excitable bard.

That had been nearly two weeks ago.

It turned out that Hux was entirely right; things were different than before, and they were better. The things that had changed were these:

Hux had brought a horse with him, this time, and several other magical items, such as a tent which was far larger inside than it appeared. Poe hadn't bothered with a horse, since he hadn't needed one before, and had thus left the money with which to pay for its upkeep back at home, planning instead to sing for his money like he used to. Kylo rather liked this; it reminded him of old times, when he steadfastly refused to let Poe ride Silence, in case it tired her out too much. The tent, on the other hand, felt annoyingly like Hux was living in style while the two of them were stuck outside, since Hux had never invited them in and Kylo, for one, wasn't about to invite himself.

It seemed Hux and Poe had also developed a much closer friendship, in the time Hux had spent at court. It made Kylo feel a little like he had missed out, like he had time to catch up on, like there was something impenetrable he couldn't access. Kylo supposed it must be similar for Hux, since he and Poe had known each other for so long before he met them, and again for Poe, given that winter when it was only him and Hux, but times like these – Poe and Hux discussing something so academic that Kylo knew so little about – could be daunting as much as interesting.

Mostly, Kylo felt like he still had to make something up to Poe, and he wasn't sure how to do it. He should probably just have a conversation with him about it, but the words never came, and bringing it up when nobody was thinking about it would, he was sure, just sour the mood. And if he just left it, the tension would have to break eventually.

[break]

Ahead of him on the road, Hux and Poe's little argument seemed to have reached a peak point. Kylo had been too lost in his thoughts to pay attention to what they were saying, but now Poe had stopped walking, raising open arms in that way of his that was almost defeated, but actually said he still thought he was right. It was very cute, like he was a turtle with a lute for a shell, and Kylo couldn't help but think his annoyed expression was charming as well.

When Silence reached the spot where Poe was standing, watching Hux ride on with his usual haughty confidence, Kylo hummed. “Did he win?”

Poe huffed, moving again to keep up with Silence's ambling pace. “No, but he's acting like he did. He always thinks he's right.”

Kylo thought about it for a beat; Hux did indeed always think that he was right. It was one of the things that had caused friction in their attempt at a relationship that one winter. It wasn't that all three of them couldn't be stubborn, more that Kylo and Poe had much more ability to hold out against each other's pestering than either of them seemed to have against Hux. One narrowing twitch of those steely-grey eyes, and anyone with even half a sense of self-preservation would surrender. So Kylo could sympathise with Poe's little pout.

They came to the edge of the forest, the village where they planned to stop a short way before them across a few fields. Kylo drew Silence to a halt and put out a hand to Poe, who looked at it first with surprise and then joy. He quickly allowed Kylo to help him up, settling just behind the Witcher, his chest pressed to his back, their thighs brushing against each other with every movement. Kylo could feel it all, and he tried not to let his stomach flip too much when Poe's arms snaked around his sides, hands locking at his front. He cursed inwardly that today he'd chosen to forgo some layers in favour of his cooler shirt.

But then Poe was saying to him over his shoulder – though it felt more like murmuring in his ear - “Come on, I wanna see Hux's face.”

Kylo prodded Silence to walk on, closing the distance on Hux. As they passed, Kylo felt Poe remove one hand to wave at the mage. Looking around, it was in almost slow motion that Hux's expression went from one of mild astonishment to annoyance to jealousy.

“See you there, Hugs!” Poe said, and Kylo smiled to himself.

[delicrieux]

Hello! May I have a one-shot with Kylo being injured and reader, who is part of the resistance, finds him and takes care of him? Thanks!

idk how this turned out to be 5k words but WHEW i mean if ppl want me to continue it im down so send in sum request of wat u think should happen!! xoxo gossip girl

requests are open! | masterlist | part 2.

Fear. The kind that makes it hard to breathe as if you are kept underwater; the kind that makes your muscles clench and freeze as all senses flow out one by one. Today had been almost too typical — you woke up, you trained, you talked to your comrades and learned battle strategy — and you were certain your evening walk would be just as uneventful. The breeze in your hair was playful; the setting sun provided warm light and set your surroundings in a pleasant, rosy glow. You like the fresh air; you like exploring; you like the freedom that comes with being alone in wilderness. And in turn, it serves as a reminder for why you are fighting in the first place. To preserve this peace, this freedom, that now has been tarnished when you stumble upon a body.

For a heartbeat you think he’s dead — his expression is lifeless and his face, pale as first snow, is bruised, covered in soot and dried blood. Willing your legs to move, you approach cautiously, not breathing, afraid to break the shrill, sudden silence — no birdsong, no wails of wind passing through trees… nothing. Life had, at that moment, stilled completely. But as you draw closer, grass crunching under your feet softly, you intake a breath of both relief and surprise. Dark locks of hair spray on his forehead and obscure the minuscule knit of his brows, his trembling lashes. He’s alive. The thought consumes you and you fall to your knees, skidding beside him, pushing his hair from his face and landing your palm on his forehead.

It’s awfully cold. Chilling. Almost biting at your sensitive flesh, urging you to pull away. It rolls in waves, this sudden cold, sudden sickness, as if it is a virus that spreads and you have caught it with this minimal contact. But you don’t pull away, despite the near overwhelming urge to do so, despite the fear returning with a new blow. Instead you glide your fingers down his jaw and press on his neck, breaking into a small, crooked smile once you feel a slow drum against them. He is alive, but barely. You glance about him, looking around the area. Nothing out the ordinary, no branches broken, no bushes disturbed and no trails left on the grass. How he got here is a mystery that will have to be solved a different time.

You hope he will tell you once he wakes up, if he even wakes up at all.

That, and, his name, too.

Your base is small and tugged away in a dense jungle, the tall trees and heat warding from unwanted visitors — the First Order. The compartments are small; there are barely above a few dozen people here; it serves more as a safe haven for lost wanderers looking for a cause or shelter, or a backup base in case others were destroyed and the rebels had nowhere to go. It is far away enough from war. Everyone here is, to some extent, safe.

You had never been on the front lines. You had never faced a Storm Trooper, had never seen the Force at work — if there even is such a thing, speculations speculations, nothing consistent, merely gossip — and you had never seen a dead body. Perhaps that is why you froze up so terribly at the sight of him. Perhaps that’s why you felt as if a void opened within you, swallowing up the last shred of light, of life, and leaving you hollow.

You should get used to the sight, though. There will be many dead in battle.

He’s the only one occupying a bed in the Medical Wing and he hasn’t woken up for two days now. His vitals are stable — no internal bleeding, no disease detected, nothing out of place as it seemed. But he is lost in deep sleep, constantly dreaming about something that made him tremble and muss and toss and turn, but never wake. It is entirely bizarre how his state is simply there, caused by no injury, no blow, nothing. And the more you take care of him… the more questions you get.

You eat in the cafeteria, a vast enough, pale walled space occupied by few people during lunch time. Next to you sits a blue eyed, blonde haired cherubic woman – she serves as the doctor, the only doctor here. She smiles lightly at you when you catch her gaze. You had always wondered why her name is Vendetta. 

The amount of denizens is small here, so small in fact that the only ones serving under this branch is a rag tag team of scavengers, travelers, nobodies that had abandoned their old lives to fight in this war. Rebels, quite literally, with a cause. Many have taken new names. Vendetta, too, had a name before this, a life, a different purpose. Though her odd choice leads you to believe that what ever had happened to drive her here was painful and severe, deserving justice. In front of you sits a tall, bony, brown haired, brow eyed mechanic with a scar running down half of their face – Q. And beside them, July – you had never seen him smiling, had never heard his voice hold a tender note in it. He is always displeased. Always with a frown.

“Seven.” Vendetta calls you, noting your blank stare, the untouched food in your plate. Seven. You chose this because you were the seventh child in your family, and, subsequently, the seventh person to join the Resistance when this base first opened.

“She’s probably thinking about the stranger.” Q mutters, taking a sip, “His origins are…” They glance about, leaning in slightly, “ A hot topic, after all.”

“We get injured wanderers all the time.” Vendetta waves them off, “As if he’s any different.”

“I don’t think we should be so quick to dismiss him, V.” July grumbles, his voice low, the sound of crunching gravel. He sits with his arms crossed over his chest, observing the three of you with something akin to hostility, “You never know who may be working for the Order.”

“You can’t just assume that.” You pipe up, “He might just be another gambler dropped by the Floating Casino because he couldn’t pay his debts.”

“Or he might be a spy.” July stresses, glaring.

“No one knows there is a base here.” You continue, unrelenting, “Half the Resistance doesn’t know it exists, how can someone from the Order?”

“Still, I advice we exercise caution.” Q says calmly, a pleasant smile on their face — if anyone can defuse an argument before it starts, it’s them, “You never know what people are hiding, Seven.”

“Okay,” Vendetta chimes, “I will certainly not disclose this vital information when the man awakes from his comatose state. I shall make sure to confuse and frighten him further by chaining him to his bed.”

“Good.” July says.

“That is not what I had in mind, and you know it.” Q mutters, a tad disappointed, “I was thinking more along the lines of… An interview.”

“Too civil.” July mumbles, “I say we go with Vendetta’s idea.”

“That was not an idea,” She hisses, “it was sarcasm.”

“Fine, interview.” You submit, “Either way, I doubt anyone from the Order would not say they are from there. They are feared. Probably would think he has the upper hand, or something. Plus, our disguise is impeccable. We look like a research facility. Better yet, a shelter if no one wanders up to the main rooms.”

“I also sincerely doubt anyone, Order or not, is so good at lying first thing when they wake up.” Vendetta agrees.

July narrows his eyes at her, “That is an awfully naive observation to make.”

“Really now? It is a known fact that people half-asleep always tell the truth.”

Another hour of this and you feel drained and sore and with a mild headache. As much as their company has helped you, they can be a bit too eager to prove one another wrong. On most occasions you’d enjoy the chatter. Today, however, you feel too distracted to focus on anything. Q makes some good points, July argues, Vendetta and her biting comments pick at your skin. Always the blazing look in her eyes, always a certain gleam of anger hiding within her mellow, sweet tone. You excuse yourself when you finish your meal and they do not keep you from leaving. Perhaps they noticed you being out of it. Perhaps they were too caught up in their new topic – Lo and Chester’s sudden break up. 

It does not take you long to come to the Medical Wing. The door shuts with a silent sweep and your heart drops – the bed is empty. Before you can do much else strong arms wrap around you from behind. With a yelp you feel a hand squeeze your throat and your breath leaves you with a helpless whine, sparks flying in your vision. Your reflexes kick in before you can control them. In a panic, you elbow your attacker in the chest and the grip loosens a bit, enough to allow you to escape and put some distance. Inhaling mouthfuls of air, you turn to the man that had been sleeping since you found him in the wilderness.

You never quite realized how tall he is, or how angry he could be. He’s confused and you see fire in his eyes, a sneer on his face, and he stands unmoving, waiting for you to try something, anything, so that he could grab you and try to kill you again.

You raise your hands, palms up —a fragile, harmless motion to indicate you mean no harm. His guard is still up. He’s heaving and his shoulders are tense, his gaze not once leaving your form, “…Hi,” You wheeze, almost voiceless, “I’m not here to hurt you.” You indicate softly. Cold, again, as if thrown into a bottomless ocean; body heavy, like a stone. You gulp. “Are you alright?” You question gently, afraid to provoke him again. “You must be tired. You’ve been out for a while.”

“Where am I?” His voice is deep and scratchy and it seems to set him off. He trembles from anger, you can almost feel the steady build up of rage in his chest, ”Who are you?”

“I’m Seven.” You introduce, “I found you outside our base. Do you know how you got here?”

He takes a threatening step forward and your arms shoot higher, “I’m not your enemy.” You insist, “You are not a prisoner here. You were dying and I wanted to help you.”

He regards you for a silent moment as if unsure whether to believe you or not. However, you sense that he will not try to hurt you, for now at least. You give him a shaky smile, trying to ease him — you cannot imagine how frightening it is to awake in some room among strangers and not knowing where you are or what had happened. “Do you…know your name?” You continue your questions, your arms slowly falling by your sides. After another pause, he nods curtly, “Good. That’s good.” you step away from his bed, “Please, lie down. You’re still recovering. No shady business, I promise.”

You are a bit surprised that he listens, but you don’t show it. He’s cautious, regarding you as if you were some dangerous animal cornering him, and his walk is sluggish. You can tell it’s hard for him to move, but don’t say anything. You doubt it would do any good. He finally sits down and just stares at you. You try to smile again, “Do you know how you got here? It’s okay if you don’t.”

“How long have I been here for?” He asks instead.

“Two full days in the base.” You say calmly, “But out there?” You vaguely motion with your head to the outside world, “I don’t know.”

Your answer unnerves him. For the first time his frown falls and he stares at you with big eyes and a trembling lip, as if a lost child not knowing what to do. That expression warps suddenly and he looks away, his hands gripping the side of the bed so tightly his knuckles turn white. 

“Well, if there is…anything you need…” You start mildly, “You can call upon me. Or Vendetta. She’s the doctor here, so if you feel any pain or sickness, you should tell her. She’s sweet.” You smile, “And she will help. But right now, just try to rest…I’ll…leave you to it.”

You bolt past him to the door but– “You don’t know who I am, do you?”

You turn back to him, shaking your head lightly, “No. But it doesn’t matter. A lot of adventures come through here, lost and injured. You aren’t the first one. Now rest, please.”

He’s volatile, is what you learn upon the first days of his resurrection. His mood can change in a flip of a coin and he goes from placid to enraged in a blink of an eye. Tantrums, yelling — all signatures of a spoiled child not knowing what he has but simply wanting to break it. He’s nobility, or so your peers gossip. You hear snippets of all sorts of things, each more outrageous than the one before. The one that he is a prince kicked out of home for adultery seems to be the most popular one.

And he’s egotistical. He had not been, besides the attempted murder, that hostile and untamed towards you — the choking you told no one about as you concluded he simply felt threatened and scared. Though his other tantrums you are not so quick to chalk up as self-defense. Vendetta, exasperated, one evening told you that she somehow offended him — ”All I said is stop pouting because you need my help!” — and he, with a bruised ego, so high and mighty promptly jumped out of bed. Whatever he was trying to do backfired — perhaps he was trying to leave, or trying to grab something and to hit her with — but he slipped and fell and hit his head into the sharp corner of table. “And I said to him, oh I said: look what you’ve done now! Off to bed, quickly!” Vendetta finished bitterly, stabbing her fork idly into her food, possibly imagining his face there. His nose, much to V’s displeasure, was not broken, but an ugly gash and a dark bruise split his skin in half and he laid in bed sulking for at least a day.

As the week passed, he seemed to favor your company the most. It is not that he smiled and joked and laughed in your presence, and you were not exchanging secrets or hugging or even calling each other friends. He simply seemed to be more mellow around you, possibly because you oddly knew what to say and what to keep silent. It is as if you sensed the subtle shift of his moods; could read his expressions in a way no one could, perhaps no one tried. And you would come and visit him as often as you could when relieved of your duties — you felt responsible for him in a way, and you wondered if you would still feel this weight on your shoulders when he eventually left this place. After all it was you that had found him lying in the grass; it was you that had insisted to help him; and now, it is you that brings him food and tries to provide some comfort in a form of conversation. You don’t pry into his past, don’t even ask for his name, because you know he does not want to give it, and you won’t risk questioning in fear of another explosion of his temper. You talk about inconsequential things: what’s happening around the base, what sort of plants grow around here, what bugs could kill him before he took two steps. He especially enjoys hearing the rumors about him, even if he is too prideful to admit that they amuse him greatly.

“And what if I am?” He questions one evening, something akin to a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips. His eyes, a kind hazel color that could be beautiful if not for the persistent angry spark within them that is now, seemingly, vacant, watch you closely.

You frown softly, “Are what?” You question, “A prince?” He nods. You snort, “Well then, your majesty, I shall make sure to inform the others. What will be your first decree?” 

He pretends to think, “No more slacking around.” He says sternly, “This is supposed to be a military base, isn’t it?” He ends on a cheeky note. You gulp. Ah, yes, you might have let it slip that he’s in one of the Resistance’s safe houses, though you did not disclose the coordinates.

“On a mission to make fun illegal, are you?” You ask with a raised brow. 

He frowns, “Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“Are too!”

Childish, really, though you suppose it is better than arguing with July.

You feel it before you hear it— rain and thunder. The merciless patter on the roof and on your window. In night the sound is almost deafening — a loud roar of an engine, followed by cracks of lightning and flashes in the dark sky. You would have slept through it if not for the pins and needles washing your skin behind the warm sheets thrown on your body. You stir. Thunder roars and a flash of bright white light illuminates your room and seeps through the cracks of your lashes. Cold, again, as if standing in the middle of a storm.

You finally sit up, rubbing your face and then looking around to see if your friends are playing some sort of joke on you. You were almost certain they had dragged you outside and left you to get drenched. But you are alone in your room and you frown and shiver from the biting cold. Groggily you throw the sheets away and leave your bed, not entirely certain where you are going but there is a pull in your gut and half-asleep you follow it. You think you might still be dreaming —the rain on your dry skin feels real, though all dreams feel real until you awake. You leave the dormitories and take the elevator to the first floor. The base is silent, save for the shrill of machinery. Finally, still in your pajamas and almost fully awake, you step past the main entrance and stop.

It’s pouring, a curtain of rain obscuring the confusing contours of trees and leaves and bushes. The darkness does not help. A bleak light pulses to life once you pass the sensor and your surroundings illuminate. Thunder, lighting, more rain. You stand safe and dry under the roof, and he stands at the very edge of it, half soaking, his face kissed and washed by the rain.

You are not sure what to think. He seems lonely standing there surrounded by darkness and water. It’s whispers, or something akin to that, that urge and beseech that he does not want to be alone. You hear them somewhere in the back of your mind. If he noticed you, and he should have with the light suddenly on, he does not show it. You approach him slowly, your footsteps concealed over the heavy drum of rain.

“Not used to it, are you?” You ask, your voice followed by a bolt of thunder. He stirs, head tilting in your direction. Your heart skips a beat when your eyes meet — there is no hostility in them, no anger, just a distant sadness. You give him a soft smile, “I can tell you don’t see it often. I didn’t, either, at first. I grew up surrounded by deserts and I had not seen a drop of rain for at least eighteen years. But, here… Well, there’s no shortage of it. We have storms at least once a week. You’ll grow sick of it before you leave, trust me.”

He says nothing, still looking at you. The light sniffs out. Both of you stand unmoving.

“Why are you here?” He asks, a note of genuine confusion slipping past his calm tone.

“I… don’t know.” You admit. A frown pulls on your brows and you bite your lower lip, staring into the heavy curtain of rain, “I…I really don’t know.” You turn to him, “Why are you here?”

He doesn’t answer for a moment, savoring the silence. Then, “I got bored laying in bed.” Somehow you feel that anxiety has more to do with his sudden nightly venture, rather than actual boredom. Though, you suppose it is quite tedious doing nothing all day. You imagine he is active, judging by his built. He has a strong character and he knows what he wants (most of the time), or rather has a distinct sense of what he doesn’t want. You imagine he’d be a good commander, or leader, with his deep voice and unrelenting stare, if only he wasn’t so sensitive. He’s too unpredictable. Too uncontrollable. His emotions get the better of him too quickly for him to be unbiased. For that reason alone you deem him unfit to be a spy, or a soldier, or a figure of military power. He’d burn all he would build if that were the case. No, him being of noble birth and being stranded here as some sort of twisted punishment sounds believable enough.

“What are you thinking?” He questions, drawing you out of your thoughts. You hum, ponder whether you should be honest with him or not. “Don’t lie to me.” He says suddenly and you jolt, heart drumming painfully in your chest. For a frightening moment you figured he could read your mind. Then again, you have been spending a lot of time together. He must have noticed how gentle you are with him, how carefully you pick your words. His signature frown is back, you see it for a second when lightning strikes.

“I was thinking about your life.” You admit, “Your work. Whether you really are a royal as most of my crew mates seem to think.”

Flash. You see half a smile blooming on his lips.

“But I know you won’t tell me. Don’t worry, I get it. Ladies love a mystery.”

“What?”

It’s your turn to grin, “Oh, please, it’s almost all I hear about. Seven brought a brooding stranger with a secret past into the base. Lo…Michel… Two of your rapid admirers. I already told you that your arrival has sparked many speculations.”

“I…I haven’t…” He sounds uncertain, flustered almost, as if embarrassed, but there is no way he is, you refuse to believe it. He stumbles upon his words and lastly says nothing. You snicker silently. Another flash of lightning and you see the same confused, puppy-like look on his face you have had the pleasure of seeing once or twice. He does not shield it this time, this moment of vulnerability. He probably doesn’t see the point because darkness obscures everything again.

You extend your hand to him as a silent offering. How many things have you offered him now? Life, health, your company. He regards it, ponders a bit, lastly gently clasps his hand over yours. You jerk. Electricity courses through you and your eyes go wide, tingles rushing all over your body. Lightning strikes. You see wonder on his face, a mimic of your own surprised expression.

“Come on,” You stutter, tugging him, “you’ll catch a cold.” He follows after you. The light blinks on. You don’t know what is happening. Couldn’t have been the thunder, the feeling is not as intense. It felt more like a build up of energy; like you accidentally touched a circuit and it zapped you.

Impossible, you hear something alike his voice but not quite — it’s quiet, distant, muddy.

“Hm?”

“What?”

Once inside, the door sweeps shut behind you, “What did you say?”

“I didn’t say anything.” He sounds a bit ticked now, and you decide to drop it.

“Oh,” You mutter, “must’ve imagined it, then.”

His hand is cold in yours and you squeeze it just a bit, hoping he won’t notice and hoping that you will warm it. When you reach the Medical Wing, you tilt your head and say, “Wait here. I’ll get you dry clothes from the storage.”

But as you turn to leave he doesn’t let go, though doesn’t say anything either. He’s choked up — either he doesn’t know how to say it or doesn’t want to say it at all. He doesn’t want to be alone. Those whispers come again, ringing in your ears so quietly you aren’t sure they’re even there. You give him a soft smile, catching his gaze, “Okay, we can go together. You’ll probably stay here for at least another week, so, it’s best you know where the storage is anyway.” There’s no rush in your words, no annoyance, just simple acceptance. It eases him, relieves him of saying and admitting things he’s not willing to bring to light.

The walk is quiet and you still hold hands. His is much bigger than yours, rough, though not unpleasant. They are hands of a man that uses them often — for better, or for worse — and a twinge in your heart, a sudden thud of uncertainty, informs you that your previous speculations might have not been correct at all. His hand doesn’t feel like that of a prince (not that you would know what that would feel like), no, it feels like a hand of a soldier. But that inching of something amiss is swept away by warmth, silent happiness, a certain deliriousness that starts blooming within you and spreading all around. You feel him, somehow; feel a connection. You can’t put it into words exactly, you doubt you could ever explain it to anyone. It’s fragile. And beautiful. And maddening that such a devout emotion is sprung by something as innocent as holding hands

You wonder if he feels it. You somehow know he does.

The storage room is not big. Your hand slips from his as he chooses to stand by the doorway and you rummage to get his things. You feel braver. Perhaps it’s the tiredness that leaves you so open and bold, but searching you can’t help but ask, “So tell me…” You start, handing him some towels, “What were you actually doing? Besides being melodramatic.” You add, your lips quirking upwards.

He regards you with lively eyes and you see a grin lift his cheeks. He’s smiling, actually smiling, and you know this action is precious and rare and you can’t help but beam at him in return, “You think I was being melodramatic?” He questions.

You laugh a little, a breathless bell-like “Yes” falling from your lips as you fetch him dry clothes from the upper shelf, “All you needed was a cape to swing around.”

His expression abruptly falls and the temperature drops with it.

“Right, no cape.” You mumble, a tad disappointed, handing him his clothes.

As you make your way back, you can’t help but saying, “I just thought it would suit you, is all.”

“What else do you think would suit me?”

You raise a brow, trying to keep up with his drastic shift in moods: again, hes smiling, then he’s pensive, now he seems lighthearted, genuinely curious. “You like to ask a lot of questions.” You conclude.

He shrugs, “I’m just trying to figure out what you think of me.”

“And why are you curious?”

“Now you are the one asking a lot of questions.” He points out. You snort.

“You started it.”

“Did not.”

“Did too!”

This again, followed by quiet chuckles. You don’t turn to the Medical Wing now, instead stopping by the elevator and pressing the red button. The doors slide open. You glance at him.

“So…” You mumble, “This is not how I imagined my night going, but…” You aren’t quite sure how to finish, how to vocalize the strange swirl of emotions in your chest, “Well, goodnight.”

You step into the elevator, going to push the button—“Ben.” He says suddenly, making you flinch and turn to him. He’s not looking at you, instead staring at the floor, “My name. It’s Ben.”

Again, that same energy, that same shock you felt when you first touched his hand ignites your body with something closely akin to happiness. Trust. Bond. He trusts you. The connection you felt was not an exaggeration. He would not have given you his name otherwise.

“Goodnight, Ben.” You say softly, fighting a smile that’s trying to rise on your face, “Sweet dreams.”

“…Goodnight, Seven.”

As the elevator doors shut, you think you hear him say “Thank you”, but that might have just been your imagination.

.

hope you liked it! xxx

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[smallestclowninthecircus]

Season 4 notes

Ep 121: mmmm tape recorder turning on without them knowing goes brrr. AAAhjhdsjfhjdf "do you mind if i call you jon" its like "can i call you elias?" is this the dream guy with the tendrils? who wants to bet the boat is captained by peter lukas? big man if it killed yall how are you still here. oh boy the tape is doin that thing. who do we think it is? did he wake up? hmm. ep 122: lol jon. 6 months!?!? bruh quit movin big man. he just Knows things sometimes you know how it is. nah b/c i can relate to feeling like other ppl/ things arent real, thats the biggest mood BUT i think it is kinda pretentious to entertain the idea that youre the only Real person. If you dont see a body dont believe it. i'll hold out hope for a bit. theres not a new archivist is there? surely i wouldve heard about that. oh god peter what changes did you make. ep 123: web development. hope its about spiders. she blames him. bruh why. if they hadnt done anything the world would've ended piss off melanie. why are ppl acting like he chose to be in a coma for 6 months. we know this they just appear. no longer "head archivist of the magnus institute, london" now he's just "the archivist" covered in spiders? cuz ik the spider has to do with controlling what youre doing and all this stuff but i cant think of how this connects to that. ep 124: ugh vertigo. is michael crew an old man? oooh. fairchild. how did he know it was martin? hmm. GRR I LOST MY NOTES AGAIN. FROM EPISODE 125 - part of 131. ep 131: bruh he's so hard to understand big man ur voice is so low. Jared Hotworth. the boneturner. "the ones i helped find their proper bodies" name a better top surgeon? our favorite trans ally? ep 132: woo field trip into the coffin! static lol. he says "chill out im just poppin in for a quick recall mission" is the rib thing actually gonna work? bruh it feels so odd and contrived but he's an odd man with some odd powers so idk. rip that archivist ayyy statement time. voices? recordings? are those tape recorders? was it the tape recorders? did they pull him back? i hope so b/c if the rib thing actually worked im gonna be so disappointed. ep 133: predicting the lonely? tundra. like the lukases. hmm. sanikova! like sanikov land. so its the hunt? i suppose? yeah. so daisy's clearly rejecting the hunt, which makes sense cuz she doesnt seem to like the entities that much. wait so are we just not gonna talk abt all the tapes playing on the ground?? no? ep 134: not an archival assistant anymore? Adelard Decker (or however you spell it) i recognize that name. 15th power. i was right there are 15. the extinction? im trying to remember what ive heard. oooh spooky. no i gotta be real i dont understand this fear but i'll believe you that its a thing. ew lukas is so squealy. lukas can turn invisible? oh boy. oooh martin put the tape recorders there. lol lukas is worried he's gonna be an avatar of the eye. ep 135: yoo its the third Daedalus statement! maxwell rayner (reiner? reigner?) i dont know who that is but ik its somebody. is he the cult leader guy? church of the divine host? 4 people?? what? did they kidnap somebody and keep them up there?? oh dear jon are you dying? did he try to See or Know or whatever? why does everyone call basira detective lol. ep 136: he was the one from the spider movie that ate ppl right? the special effects artist? is it annabelle cane? "its a joke jon" lol. hmm they wanted to record the therapy session with melanie? i wonder who that is. i almost wanna guess annabelle cane but im not sure. ep 137: this is the one! he went to the other place and read the war statement but it wasnt the one she took. not the music again. sounds like the slaughter. who the heck is eric lol. "the watcher's crown" like the crown of eyes we saw in the piccrew ep 138: oh boy Robert Smirk time. is that elias? as unhelpful as usual. if new powers can be "born" can others die out? did jonah magnus wear the watchers crown? maybe they were born from our fear or maybe our fears were born from them. ceaseless watcher does ceaselessly watch so. idk what you want

big man. yeah jonah for sure did something. ep 139: agnes!! lol that one dude threw off all their plans thats so funny. BUT this does tell us something. the tree in the backyard of the hilltop house? not made by her. it going down didnt kill agnes. im guessing gertrude tied agnes to the house using the tree? u good jon? cuz every time you try to Know smth intentionally it seems like it causes you great pain. how come he can do it accidentally with no problem but the second he wants to know smth of plot relevance he gets a headache or whatever ep 140: lol pagan exultation. classic. "oh thats my rib" lmaoo. ppl are always so mad at jon and his Eye powers except when it benefits them. they're like "oh you shouldnt do that its not right" and then all of a sudden they want to know something and its all "oh cmon jon its the only way" ep 142: oh god jon what did you do. its interesting she's giving her statement in the way that they do when jon Asks. did he see her in the Coffin? and so he's following her? ok cmon jon you're supposed to let them come to you. lmao ikr martin. "start to hear the blood" "suure." lmao ep 143: lol that awkward moment when gertrude is already dead. big J if you die im gonna kill you. bruh. ayo helen? i guess it worked? ep 144: lol this reminds me of that one edgar allan poe story where he kills the old dude with the weird eye. spooky music stuff. lol thats my favorite symptom of a heart attack its hilarious. so its smth abt the location probably? bro i feel like you should write down the numbers idk. 162830165049 564846474827. seems like the distortion? like the kinda thing that causes you to go crazy because of the numbers. oh boy is it the extinction again. bro what?? im?? his dad just died and he's like eh. martin dont be mean. he's being all lonely again. big man ur pushing ppl away. oh god its fucking squealy boy. ep 145: that almost sounds like breekon/hope... Arthur? agnes. aah was he from the lightless flame cult. a tree. lol he's just ranting rn. hehehe fuck landlords amirite. yay someone tells jon outright to go to therapy. now do it big man. ep 146: oh great! the distortion! i'm making a spiral themed building in mc right now! jon maybe accept you did a bad? nah this goes back to what i said before. they're fine with him compelling ppl when its convenient for them but otherwise its "no jon you cant, youre a monster jon" the tapes didnt turn on. i spose that means its not important? i agree with daisy, this seems unecessarily dangerous. ep 147: is that a tape? the first tape? well that went better than i expected tbh. BAHAKJASHDJKF she did the "can i call you jon" like nikola says "elias, can i call you elias?" damn annabelle is such a girlboss. oh! the one thing from the picrew. its been a while since ive connected smth to that. lol all the other avatars always talk abt their patron so lovingly and the jon just. absolutely hates the eye. ep 148: lol thats the most elias thing. "i just like the way it sounds" ep 149: did he disappear? bruhh. ur lonely powers are popping off i guess. oops i accidentally deleted my notes for 150 - 152 ep 153: thats the cult right? yeah. it doesnt sound like the church of the divine host? idk. if it is the church of the divine host then they worship the dark right? so is the eleventh the dark star or wtvr? it almost sounds like the corruption b/c of the oil or grease or whatever. oh dear what happened. oh its the hunters. theyre so annyoing. not an "it" he has a name. he's a person. is this a page from the skin book? ep 154: oh shit this is gerry's dad! oh shit he quit! oh dear god. jon don't you do it. haha martin. yeahhhh... is he gonna tell the others? cuz you know theyre gonna get mad if he doesnt. oh also picrew connection! the bandages over the eyes? yeah thats this im guessing. ep 155: oh good he told them. oh my god what did you do. lol i have no mouth and i must scream. nah you get none of my sympathy you're straight up murdering ppl. its like the desolation, destroying lives to sustain your own. ok but taking their statements doesnt

kill them. oh... bye melanie. ep 156: lmao imagine if the tape recorder spoke back. oh boy decker! i swear we got a statement from him already. oh god mirrors scary. They're gonna eat the body arent they. Yup... sounds like the flesh or the slaughter, but I'm not sure. Could be the extinction for sure. Smth at the center! Like Helen mentioned. God Peter you dick. Ep 157: peter's just so :/ another decker statement i see. a statement about the corruption? hmm. maybe its not abt the corruption. the extinction. lol pandemics. topical. John Amherst. helen? lol i can hear admiral purring in the background. oh cmon helen dont be like that. im trying real hard to like you but you make it so difficult. ep 158: did they fucking free the stranger? im gonna lose it. you absolute dumbass. im sorry who is that? jonah magnus? my guy. peter. you absolute dickhead. that's elias. (im p sure i had this spoiled for me that elias is jonah) oh dear this is her death. god peter you prick. i hope this is a pop off martin moment and not a "martin you idiot" moment. i hope the hunters kill the stranger entity. or she kills them. furry daisy pop off! yeah fuck you peter martin can make his own decisions. you know that clip from Twisted where jafar says "ok what the fuck was that" martin D: ok like i know its gonna work but still D: D: ep 159: peter you bitchboy. because if im alone i cant hurt anyone else. imnotgonnacryimnotgonnacryimnotgonnacry do it do it do it do it. pop off jon. ok its a pretty good idea for a ritual i gotta be honest. she didnt even have to blow it up lol. oh dear that was certainly a noise. "he gets you" did he not have jon already? he's back! our boy is back! awwww thats so cute. ep 160: oh right this is the thing in the safe house. i love him. "obviously im going to tell you if i see any good cows" martin my beloved <3 :)) oh boy who is this. fuckin. people. jonah you dick. gahh. you can tell he's trying to resist so hard lol. ohh. hehe keep an *eye* on him. altho if the extinction is a real thing he needs to be marked by that right? lol he sounds so intense im sorry- i want martin to just burst in and be like "look at this cow i saw!" its so dramatic and for why.