#look- is the blood donation thing at all plausible? no. but is it so good? yes yes i think so

[smoulderingocean]

Osblaine Week Day 2: Headcanons

My list is long (though far from exhaustive haha- I could really go on forever), so it's under the cut. May we be blessed with more details in the future so we don't have to keep headcanoning them.

Holly is left-handed, just like her Uncle Josh. Nick is deeply moved by this small connection they share, feeling as if Josh lives on in her.

Nick and Holly's birthdays are both in February and are just a few days apart, with Nick's birthday coming just three days after hers. To him she is the greatest possible gift that he could ever receive. And the closeness of their birthdays has a deeper meaning too- his Mum and Josh had August birthdays that were just a few days apart.

Nick's family couldn't always afford it because money was tight and it was hard to get time off of work, but every couple of years they tried to visit Mackinac Island for a week in August to celebrate those August birthdays. Those handful of summer visits are among Nick's most cherished memories because it was the only time that his family was truly happy.

Growing up Nick was really close to his Mum. She was a very gentle, kind, and sweet person, and raised Nick to be the same. She was the head and heart of their household. When she died the Blaine family fell apart. Nick's father and Josh both struggled to function, falling deep into a pit of depression and spiralling further after they were laid off. Seeing no other alternative, Nick, himself deeply depressed, stepped up and tried to fill her place. He never felt like he was enough, because no one could ever replace his Mum.

Because he took on the head of the household role at a very young age, Nick's natural caretaking personality grew stronger, something that follows him for the rest of his life and is part of why he is such a good partner and father.

June sleeps cold while Nick sleeps hot. One night, very early on into their relationship, Nick wakes and looks over at June. He can tell from her face that she is cold and not entirely able to relax enough to sleep more deeply and get enough rest. So Nick gets out of bed and gathers his spare blanket from his trunk, tucking it carefully around her. After a few minutes, he sees June relax and fall more deeply asleep. When she awakens a couple hours later, very well-rested, she is deeply moved by the simple gesture. A gesture that hadn't been given to her in years. From then on Nick has the extra blanket out for her wrap up in. It's unspoken, but to both of them that blanket belongs to her.

Nick is a night owl while June is a morning person. This dichotomy works really well within their relationship as it allows for balance. In the mornings June wakes up early and goes for her run, then gets the kids up and going while Nick makes breakfast. Then at night Nick puts the kids to bed and stays up later than June to read, listen to music, watch tv, or just sit on the balcony and relax.

June enjoys the mornings because they're a new start, while Nick has a harder time with them because getting everyone up and going and out to where they need to be means they'll be apart for most of the day. Meanwhile Nick enjoys nights more because it's a winding down- the family is together and able to spend some quality moments with each other. At night Nick is most able to take care of everyone; there are no burdens or expectations, just love. The nights are peaceful and calming for him. For June, the nights are challenging because she finds it difficult to wind down- she enjoys being busy and being on the go, and the nighttime family rituals are the opposite. Together, Nick and June manage to balance each other out- June's drive and energy get Nick going in the mornings while Nick's tenderness and unwavering support help June wind down and relax at night.

Together, they sleep really well because they feel safe and so their subconsciouses are able to let go and relax. Without the other they struggle to get enough rest.

Nick is the cuddler of the two and really craves those moments in their relationship. The quiet warmth and comfort means so much to him and it's what he really looks forward to each night because he feels safe and loved.

One of June's favourite things to do is to watch Nick read. She finds it -the glasses and the lips pursed in concentration and the emotions on his face- incredibly sexy and she often finds herself unable to resist temptation and ends up distracting him, which Nick enjoys immensely. Nick also knows that she finds the whole thing erotic and so he puts himself into situations where he knows June will notice just what he's doing.

When they were living at the Waterford house, Nick never had to say that June was welcome to read his books, the acknowledgement that she was free to choose went unspoken between them because Nick knew that she didn't need his permission and June knew that she didn't have to ask; it was a natural thing because his apartment is was close to a home that she had in Gilead (he's her home) and so those books were as much hers as they were his.

In the Boston Globe they finally got to spend a lot of real downtime together. There they found many books, dvds, and cds that had been long-banned, left forgotten in the hastily abandoned office tower. In their free hours together they got to be a normal couple. In those hours they found that they both had an unapologetic love for Harry Potter and they enjoyed getting into enthusiastic debates about the subject. (Also, they both agreed that Nick is a Hufflepuff and June is a Gryffindor.) June loves Friends, while Nick teases her that it was before his time and that he preferred Glee, which June hated because she thought the singing was terrible. Both share a love for boy bands, with Nick's music tastes being more varied than June's and he introduces her to many good songs. Both are avid readers, but June is especially and Nick reads each and every book she hands to him.

Together they learn all sorts of things that accompany a normal, happy relationship; June can't cook worth a damn while Nick is skilled at batch meals like soups, stews, and chili. Nick loves coffee and tea equally (he's especially fond of a good Hong Kong-style milk tea, the kind his mother use to make) while June is exclusively a coffee person. Nick's favourite chore to do is laundry and June is amazed to find out that he'd often take the laundry off of Rita's hands whenever he could as she despised it. Meanwhile June's preferred chore is doing the dishes, because she doesn't contribute by and so she likes to do her bit by washing up.

In the Boston Globe, Nick finds a copy of "What to Expect When You're Expecting" and reads it in its entirety, an action that makes June cry from emotion.

While in the Boston Globe, Nick does everything he can to fulfil June's pregnancy cravings, including trading his valuable illicit liquor for her beloved Twinkies. He loved being able to do that for her because it made her smile and Nick lived for those smiles.

Both Nick and June share a commonality of being bookworms as children, a trait that they pass down onto Holly. Their favourite weekend family activity is a trip to the library.

June was in the 'in' crowd in school while Nick was more of a loner and was very quiet. June ran track and was on the swim team, and was good enough to get a partial scholarship to a good school where she majored in English. Nick never played any sports (though like all good Detroit boys, was a big hockey fan and knows how to skate, and Nick's parents, especially his father, were such big fans that they gave their sons hockey-related middle names- Joshua Gordon [after Gordie Howe] and Nicholas Stanley [after the Stanley Cup]) but he excelled at English and social studies. He couldn't afford to go to university, something that broke his father's heart as he wanted to give Nick the chance to go that he never got. (Josh meanwhile, was very artistic and was particularly good at photography- one of Nick's prized possessions is a print of one of Josh's photos. Like Nick, he couldn't afford to go to school.)

After getting into Canada together after getting Hannah out of Gilead, June and Nick and their family move from Toronto to Kelowna, finding great comfort in the mountains and also appreciating that it helps Hannah recover from what she's lived through as the mountains are comforting and familiar to her.

My biggest crack headcanon is that Nick and June have the same blood type (O+) and it was Nick's blood that was donated to help June after her haemorrhage. Nick volunteered and this action was seen as so good and so 'godly' that it was a small element in pushing Nick further up the ladder. He knew this, but selflessly gave her his blood anyway, because it was the only way he could help.

[lizacstuff]

Anon asks: SCK Fragman 38 speculation

(Asks under the cut)

Anonymous said: Do you think they're getting married this next episode? idk if the tattoos were confirmation

I think it’s possible? But I also think it’s entirely possible that they get the tattoos as a symbol of their love and a promise of sorts that they are through messing around, but they’re not actually married yet.  Frankly, they already gave us all the wedding hoopla with these two, I’m absolutely fine with an elopement or quick courthouse style wedding, or just a couple of witnesses in a garden. Whatever they want! Let’s just get her done.

Also... I know I said it before, but I’m just in love with the idea of these tattoos. Such a great solution to their ring issue. 

Anonymous said: Thoughts on all these twitter theories from the “sick” line in the fragman?

- it’s about piril and engins kid bc basak and anil filmed in the hospital, and piril was hit by a car in 36 and in 37 she had that moment where she clutched her abdomen and had to sit down

- it’s a flashback serkan has to when his brother alp was sick

- serkan is sick and it’s a way to reveal Kemal as his bio dad (blood or organ donation)

- serkan is sick and it’s a way to reveal eda is pregnant when they draw blood from her to donate

That fragman could be hinting at so many things, and it very well could have been misleading. So lets take each theory in turn. 

“it’s about piril and engins kid bc basak and anil filmed in the hospital, and piril was hit by a car in 36 and in 37 she had that moment where she clutched her abdomen and had to sit down”

Very possible. Engin thinking something had happened to Piril two eps ago did feel like foreshadowing, almost preparing the audience for something. It would be so heartbreaking if she loses the baby, and seems too dark for this show, but it is something that happens to millions of women, so we’ll see.

Also can you imagine after the way Piril stuck by Selin, if Piril lost her baby, and she then witnesses Selin using her baby as a pawn to get revenge on Serkan and Eda?  I’d like to see Piril and Engin’s reaction to that. Though again I think that’s pretty dark, especially for the side couple. 

- it’s a flashback serkan has to when his brother alp was sick

I think this is a very good guess. Serkan probably will see a doctor after he passed out, and if it is another panic attack brought on by the stress of losing Eda, I could see a doctor telling him if he wants to move past the panic attacks, he needs to get at the root of his abandonment issues, which all lead back to his brother’s death. That could be why he’s getting out a box of his things and reading that letter.  So I could very well see a flashback happening to Alp’s diagnosis.

- serkan is sick and it’s a way to reveal Kemal as his bio dad (blood or organ donation)

I’m honestly fully onboard with Kemal as Serkan’s bio dad.  I hear a lot of people poopooing the idea because of opportunity, but I think they told us when it could have happened. In their first meeting, (unless my subs were bad) Aydan mentioned that Kemal had returned once to apologize for standing her up when they were young and going to run away together. I assume that was the window. Kemal showed up years later (after Alp was born) to apologize.. they had a fling and there’s the opportunity for Serkan to be his son. 

Though, to me, if they’re doing something with Serkan’s health it’s got to be related to the plane crash. The chest clutching since he’s been back is concerning, plus wasn’t his hand shaking at one point? So I don’t see him having some serious underlying issue that’s unrelated. This guy does not shy away from going to the doctor and was just in the hospital for probably over a month recovering, so you’d think if there was anything wrong before, we’d know it.  Unless the plane crash acerbated something that’s genetic? And/or requires a match like bone marrow or kidney. I suppose they could give Serkan some rare blood type and that would be something applicable to most any ailment. We shall see. 

- serkan is sick and it’s a way to reveal eda is pregnant when they draw blood from her to donate

This one I think is the least likely. It’s been very fuzzy how much time has passed, but at the minimum 3 months since they were supposed to get married and were having sex, so if Eda were pregnant I think she would have noticed the signs by now.  

Anonymous said: Liza, I know they won’t kill Serkan, but could you reassure me that they won’t? I’ve followed you since Once and you were always good at reassuring.

Ha! I remember making lists of all the reasons they would never kill Hook. 

THEY WON’T KILL SERKAN.

And I’m even more certain of this than I ever was of them not killing Hook, and I was damn certain then. 

There is literally not ONE reason for this show to exist without Eda and Serkan. Not one. This is their love story, and really, storyline wise, the show should have ended awhile ago, and the only reason they keep it going is to keep Hande and Kerem on screen together, making their magic. Seriously, that’s the only reason.

You see how Serkan dying would be counter to that, right?  And if the show were about to end, trust me, there is nothing in it for anyone to have a tragic ending. This started as a romantic comedy, and will end as one, with a happily ever after. And if you’re still nervous, trust this, the production company is still hopeful to sell it into even more foreign markets, especially English language ones, a surprise tragic, twist ending that gets vilified on social media (and trust me this fandom is huge, vocal and capable) would really hurt those chances. 

So even if we’re headed into a bad diagnosis for Serkan, he will be fine in the end, it will just be something for him and Eda to fight through. I promise. 

Anonymous said: thoughts on that wonderfully beautiful fragman? i was watching with hearts in my eyes and then read the translations.. poor serkan!! if it really isn't misleading i definitely think it's some consequence of the plane crash. but, we are secure in what kind of show this is and the full knowledge that it's not a drama and no one is gonna actually die, i'm excited for the potential this storyline is gonna give us!! (esp with the return of the old writers)

I can’t wait to see that rain scene, and the after-the-rain scene and their motorcycle ride. The fragman was very beautiful, but it also felt very poignant and a little melancholy.

It’s interesting with the announcement that the second writing team was back, there were tidbits from several legit entertainment-type reporters yesterday that the show was going back to it’s roots being funny and entertaining.  So a terrible diagnosis for one of the current characters, especially the romantic leading man, doesn’t really fit with that. 

It the writers hadn’t changed I’d be more concerned, not about a character dying, just about the show leaning into some big sort of health-related melodrama.  But I think whatever might be happening will be in service to the plot.  As far as Serkan having a health-scare related to the crash, as I said above it’s very plausible. I mean what are the chances that a man survives a plane crash, is fished out of the sea, spends weeks in a hospital, gets amnesia and is perfectly fine 3-4 months later with no other repercussion? Doesn’t seem possible! 

Anonymous said: Liza, the second set of writers is really coming back! We might actually get comeuppance for Selin!

YESS!!!!! Please. I had completely lost hope with the last set of writers who seemed hellbent on normalizing her behavior.  Look I’d be fine with a 3 minute conversation where Serkan tells her that he knows she’s a manipulative liar and the baby is not his, that he wants her out of their lives for good, and that if she ever comes near Eda ever again he will personally destroy her. 

Is that so much to ask?

Though I’d like her to be humiliated in front of the rest of the team. Just so everyone knows what kind of psycho she is and no one in Edser’s orbit is tempted to give her another chance ever again. 

It will be interesting to see how this plays out.  With the news that Sarp Can (Deniz) is COVID positive, he obviously won’t be back on set anytime soon. They could probably get some VO from him if necessary, for a phone convo, but I’m gonna guess he’s done on screen. 

It’s time to write both characters out! 

As for the 22-23, 25-30 writers coming back, that is the best news I’ve had in ages.  They weren’t perfect, but the things they did well, they did really, really well. Their comedy, romantic scenes, heartfelt dialogue, accurate characterizations and penchant for sizzling scenes that “break the Turkish family structure” will all be most welcome. I’m really excited for the first time in ages. 

Anonymous said: Very interesting that the fragman did not address the Selin baby drama at all. It focused solely on Edser which was a welcome change while at the same time has me a bit nervous for the angst & drama no doubt headed our way. But if Eda & Serkan are together for good now to face the challenges coming then I cannot wait to watch. The last episode was so well done but Eda & Serkan were both near their breaking points for different reasons & you just felt awful for both of them. Really glad that the engagement did not happen and the show focused on the fallout from Serkan’s amnesia. And even had the side characters addressing how difficult things have been for Eda and that she might need some time before picking things back up with Serkan! Looking forward to the resolution of the baby story/exit of Selin and seeing Eda & Serkan heal together.

I hope that the fact that nothing Selin-related was addressed in the fragman means that we finally have people in charge who understand that we are so damned fatigued of Selin that featuring her an active deterrent for viewers.  Also I haven’t seen any evidence that Bige has been on set for 38. That doesn’t mean she hasn’t, it’s still possible, but it is encouraging that the ep will be  light on Selin. 

As far as the drama and angst, I think there’s more headed our way, however I’m hopeful it will be the good kind and not the kind that made us really uncomfortable and want to tear our hair out during the Selin/Deniz era. We know that Eda and Serkan must decide to stay together (spending time together, ring finger tattoos) so the point of the pregnancy storyline is done. When Eda found out Selin was pregnant, it gave Selin the chance for one last Hail Mary pass, and she took it, trying to break them up, but it failed. So it’s usefulness is over. She can’t keep the charade going because of Deniz, and because once Serkan has time to calm down and think, he’ll realize that any time in Slovania where he was so injured that it’s possible he doesn’t remember, he also would have been too physically incapacitated to do anything of the sort. 

As for Eda needing some time, yes, things in 36 were just too easy for Serkan in terms of the fallout from his amnesic behavior. Episode 37 made him work for it and I think come to terms with the fact that, Selin manipulations or no, there’s work to do and things he needs to atone for.  Putting her first throughout the episode, and showering her with love, was a good start. 

Anonymous said: The conversations Selin had with Eda, Serkan and Aydan in this episode had my blood boiling. Someone stop this psycho! The unnecessary hole digging was real, my god. I don't care if she's pregnant, don't hold Eda back this time and let her fight this snake. Let everyone fight her! If she's lying to Deniz now, he can fight her too.

I know, she reached new levels of abusive manipulation.  They better be planning a comeuppance, if she’s just allowed to leave with people waving goodbye, I will scream.  The Aydan conversation with her posing the question about abortion was something else. It came across to me more as a threat. Like... I’m thinking about doing this, if you don’t want my decision to be your fault, you better stay on the right side of me. 

The Eda and Serkan stuff goes without saying. It still floors me that she’s willing to pretend like she raped him (if he can’t remember because he was that injured and foggy, then it’s impossible for him to have given consent.) rather than just giving up and living the truth.  

Anonymous said: Like I get it (kind of) but I am so sick of watching Serkan be nice to Selin. Very much looking forward to Serkan chewing her out for how much she hurt Eda with this fake Serkan baby daddy story when she is exposed. I get that Serkan feels he is to blame for calling her to Slovenia in the first place & essentially in his mind giving her hope of them being together but he needs to stop excusing her horrible behavior from there. No decent person would take advantage of that situation the way she did. It seems like the only way that Selin will have an epic fall is if Deniz decides to fight for the kid he knows must be his and tell Eda everything. Going to be tough for her to believe initially but it will have to start making sense once she thinks back on things and then if the photos surface then she will know it must be true.

Agreed. I get Serkan’s guilt, and it actually shows what a good person he is, but he needs to get over it.  Because seriously, all Selin was obligated to do when she got his call was to hang up, and then dial one of the following: his mother, his father, his fiancé or best friend/business partner Engin. That’s it. Call them and say, hey, Serkan’s alive, this is where you’ll find him. But NOPE! Instead she decided to fly there, manipulate him, keep him hidden and try to use it to get back with him. She made him beholden to her, just another in the long line of brainwashing and manipulation. Her flying to his bedside was the wrong thing to do, and it would be great if someone beside Eda recognized that. 

Anonymous said: Even though Selin is the worst and I just cannot wait for her to finally be unmasked as the manipulator she is, I am really looking forward to Edser in the next episode. Eda taking care of Serkan after he passes out, the two of them reaffirming their commitment to each other with the tattoos & possible elopement, Eda reassuring Serkan that she will be at his side even if the kid turns out to be his and also the two of them working together to get to the truth. So darn excited! And if the spoilers are right that Deniz tells Eda the truth and Serkan sees the photos from Ferit then I will be so happy. It is time for Selin to go for good!

SELIN MUST GO. Yes, I think as soon as the news that Selin is pregnant and trying to pass it off as Serkan’s brain-fog baby, Ferit will unleash the photos. (if it’s him that has them).  

I just want Selin and Deniz gone so we can focus on other things. Their presence on this show is a energy drain, and I want to focus on rain frolicking, motorcycles and bed sharing!!!!!  

Anonymous said: I'm so glad that we had a scene of Serkan telling Eda that even without his memories he fell in love with her again, he just couldn't admit it. Serkan has an interesting perspective on the memory loss part of their lives where I think he almost feels too guilty about it all and just wants to move past it. I've noticed that in his dialogues in 36 & 37 where he wants to leave it in the past and basically do his all to make it all up to her in the present and future.

I think this is very well observed. He definitely was trying to leave the past in the past, but honestly I think that’s just laziness on the part of the old writers, not wanting to have to have a reckoning for all the things they had him say or do. Since the writers decided to go that way, I could buy it’s because Serkan feels too guilty about it all. We know how much he loathes making mistakes or being wrong or owing apologies. If that’s what they wanted to do, it would have gone a long way if they’d shown a bit more of him blaming himself, especially in 36. 

I was also very happy that Serkan came out and said that he’s fallen in love with her again. My only thing is I wish if they were going to do that, they would have thrown a little more detail in the dialogue. Like Serkan admitting to her that he started thinking about her all the time as soon as he returned and met her, maybe admit that he slept on his office couch clutching her wedding invitation.  A couple of things like that would have been very nice for Eda to hear. 

Anonymous said: SCK sure loves creating difficult situations for Eda & Serkan. I really felt for Serkan in the last episode especially since he was back to being the romantic robot we all love. He so baldly wants to make up for lost time with Eda that he rushes ahead with the proposal and then gets crushed when she rejects him. And then spends most of the episode frantically trying to figure out what is going on with her and trying to show her how much he loves her. I was really happy though that the show addressed a few different times how awful the last few months have been for Eda and it also made Serkan address it. His plan to just forget about everything and move forward did not happen. Loved that the side characters stepped up to remind him of everything he & Selin put Eda through. Not so crazy that the show decided to use Selin’s pregnancy as the plot device to get Serkan to finally realize “oh yeah, what happened since my accident is a very big deal & now I have to face it & come to terms with it” but still glad it happened. Selin is obviously so much more in the wrong than Serkan but let’s hope her downfall takes place in the next episode.

All of this.  I think you’re exactly right, Serkan tried to brush past everything and I’m glad that finally the other characters stepped up a little to help make him see that he had more work to do. Special shout out to Seyfi for his sassy comment about Serkan almost marrying another woman. And finally Piril was useful and acted like a friend, the first time she had since he returned.  

[the-last-cuddlebender]

hi! if youre still taking requests could you do the gaang doing dumbassery because they are all dumbasses? (if you want) anyways ur cool have a nice day

Aw, thanks, Anon🥰 I’ll raise you one better and give you Christmas-themed-Modern!AU dumbassery (feat. Zuko, Sokka, and Aang)

Words: 973

******************************

Zuko approached the house with a slack jaw and a firm questioning of...well, of everything. He blinked three times to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating, and he immediately wanted to walk away when he realized he wasn’t imagining things. He had developed a sixth sense for knowing when he needed to have plausible deniability, and his instincts were screaming at him to get away from there.

Why. And why today. He was too tired for this.

“What…” Zuko struggled to find the ability to string his thoughts together. ‘Confused’ wasn’t a strong enough word to describe what he was feeling. He was concerned, for certain, and for many reasons. Some of it was for his own sake, but most of it was for his dwindling hope that humanity, as a collective, would be able to evolve forwards ever again. “...What is he doing?”

Sokka shrugged and didn’t look away from the warning-label-in-the-making wandering around on the roof. He lifted the lower half of his face out of his powder-coated jacket and accepted his fiancé’s greeting-gift of hot cocoa—extra marshmallows and a little gingerbread-man on top because being extra had its perks when Zuko got in trouble.

“He’s trying,” Sokka said between sips.

Zuko stared at the roof and the confused monk on top of it. And as he watched Aang gamble his life amongst the snowy shingles, he couldn’t help but have the same feeling of watching a documentary on National Geographic where he knew the baby deer was going to be killed and couldn’t do anything about it.

“But what is he trying?”

Sokka shrugged again. “‘Dunno. I’m just here to keep him company and to catch him when he falls off the roof again.”

“Again?”

Sokka spared him the same half-lidded gaze he had been giving their tattooed brother (in all but blood). “You were his teacher, Zuko. You should know he can be a pretty slow learner, sometimes.”

Zuko rubbed his growing headache and fought the urge to pound his head into the nearest tree. Aang was on the highest point of the roof and tangled in what had to be forty or so feet of Christmas lights. Thankfully, he had stopped waddling in a circle in his vain search for freedom and plopped into a seat in the snow. If the inevitable two-story fall didn’t kill him, then hypothermia definitely would. Born and raised in the mountains or not, he had no business wearing only jeans and a long-sleeved shirt with the damn sleeves rolled up to his elbows (the shirt was reindeer themed and had ‘Naughty List Advocate’ printed across the chest).

Sokka sipped his hot cocoa. Zuko contemplated his place in the universe. “...She’s going to kill us for letting him do this,” he said.

“Oh, don’t worry.” Sokka slung an arm around Zuko’s shoulders and tugged them together. He gestured with his cup of cocoa towards the arrowed human hazard. “Katara won’t spill blood around the holidays. She’s too much of a goodie-goodie. Besides, this is Aang’s first Christmas. She wouldn’t dare mess it up for him.”

Zuko scowled but looked thoughtful. “I guess it is, technically, his first Christmas. Has he really only been here for less than a year?”

“Eight months. Feels a lot longer than that. And don’t worry too much about him falling from the roof. He pretty much lived up there for the first few weeks he moved in.”

“...Why?”

“He missed the altitude.”

“Ah.”

A small avalanche slid off the roof and plopped into a heap in front of them. The Christmas lights were all somehow turned on and probably an electrical hazard with how taut they were pulled, and Aang paused for breath from trying to free himself of his cocoon of pretty colors. He moped—nearly pouting—in a way that made them fight the urge to hug him and donate to an ASPCA commercial.

“Has he even seen Christmas lights before?”

Sokka smiled from ear to ear. “Nooooope,” he said, suspiciously happy.

“And you didn’t bother correcting him on…,” Zuko gestured to Aang’s creative stringing of lights, “...whatever that is?”

“He knows what Google is. He can look it up if he wants to.”

“Does he, though? Does he really?” Zuko shook his head. “Someone has to tell him.”

“I think it’s cute. Let him figure out what it means to him all on his own.”

“Hey, Sokka!” Aang shouted from two sheer stories above them. “Are all of the lights working—Oh, hey, Zuko!” The overgrown golden retriever disguised as their best friend smiled down at them with a floodlight’s intensity. He flailed his freed arm like one of those inflatable things in front of car dealerships. “What do you think? Pretty cool, right? I’ve been working on it all day!”

“Yeah, I can see that!” Zuko said. Sokka cackled, and Zuko elbowed him. “It looks...It looks very nice, Aang! Just be careful, okay?”

“I am, don’t worry! I’ve fallen from higher places back at the Temple!”

Zuko gave Sokka a pointed look. “You still think he’s going to learn?”

“Point taken.” Sokka passed Zuko his hot cocoa so he could cup his hands over his mouth. “Hey, Aang! I think that’s enough! It looks really good, but you don’t wanna overdo it! It’ll be too bright!”

“But...But I still have so much left to do!”

“Can’t you finish it later?” Zuko yelled. “You’ll catch your death out here if you don’t put on a jacket!”

Aang ignored that last part. “I can’t stop! Katara is going to be home in a few hours, and I have to have the lights up before she gets here! It’s a surprise!”

Sokka cupped Zuko’s mouth with one hand and projected his voice with the other. “Okay, that’s fine, then! Just be careful, okay? We’ll be right here if you need us!”

Aang nodded so fast that his head threatened to come off his shoulders. “I will! Thanks, guys!”

Sokka released Zuko’s mouth, and Zuko mumbled through his forced smile so Aang couldn’t see him talking. “You do realize that if he gets so much as a scratch, then our lives are forfeit, right?”

Sokka laughed a little, shrugged yet again, and sipped his cocoa some more.

Zuko rolled his eyes so hard that it was a miracle he didn’t go blind. “Do you have to have a deathwish for Christmas?”

“Eh, it’ll be fine. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Right on cue, Aang appeared as if he had been summoned—first as a startled yelp, then as a snowballing cocoon of lights, and then as a projectile.

Luckily, Zuko caught him.

Not so luckily, Zuko hadn’t meant to catch him.

...Zuko’s broken arm throbbed just as badly as his headache, and Aang—lying in the hospital bed right next to him and admiring the little Christmas wreaths and snowflakes Katara drew on his leg’s cast (she even colored a blue line to show where his tattoo wound down his leg)—wasn’t exactly helping him.

He was way, way too tired for this.

Zuko made the mistake of looking at his companion-in-cast. Aang’s puppy-dog eyes were internationally ranked, and they disabled Zuko’s ability to say ‘no’ when he asked if he could pretty please make up for breaking his arm by decorating his cast for him.

(‘Creative’ wasn’t a strong enough word to describe the end result...But Zuko really did like the pair of red and green dragons. They had antlers and snowy-white beards, and the fire they breathed looked like Christmas lights thrown into a blender. It made the nauseating amount of permanent-marker-smell completely worth it.)

Every few hours, Sokka brought them greeting-gifts of hot cocoa and fruit cakes—extra marshmallows and moonpeach-flavored gooey centers because being extra had its perks when Katara was contemplating her allowance of her brother’s and her future brother-in-law’s continued existences.

Aang meekly showed Katara the little drawing he made of what he intended their roof to look like.

She kissed his frown away and practically lived on the roof for the next two days to make it happen.

Once the lights were lit, a small crowd gathered around their house like how people did when they saw a car accident.

But Aang couldn’t have been happier, and, when he slung his arms around their shoulders and thanked them for making his first Christmas that much brighter, Zuko and Sokka couldn’t not smile along with their brother (in all but blood) if they tried.

[sophiamcdougall]

I keep thinking that the immortals give Nile a lot of authoritative-sounding information about how being immortal works, and yet their sample size is never more than six and frequently it’s one.  Including Nile, there have only ever been seven of them ... that they know of. Obviously, there might have been near-immortals who lived and eventually died before Andy was even born, but also, until encountering Quynh, Andy had no way of knowing that new immortals inspire clairvoyant dreams in each other. Even after the dreams and meeting Quynh in real life ... if I were in her shoes I think I might have read the situation as “destined to find my soulmate” more than “all immortals come with a sort of built-in homing beacon which broadcasts equally to all other immortals.” Not for centuries would either encounter any further evidence either way. And even now -- having dreamed of, and then found, Lykon, Joe, Nicky and Nile, how do you know you’re dreaming of the world’s entire population of immortals, rather than a random selection? Or those Destiny or whatever particularly wants you to meet? Nicky and Joe can only ever have had this experience once before, relatively recently, and Booker can never have had it at all. I guess it doesn’t matter, as acknowledging the possibility that there might be others out there wouldn’t practically change very much, but it’s part of a pattern of jumping to conclusions.  

“Eventually you stop healing.” This has only happened once (that they know of, see above) and only one member of the current team was there to see it. “Immortality has limits and in time, this will happen to all of us” is a good theory, but it should only be a theory. How do they know that something hadn’t happened to Lykon, and only Lykon, to rob him of his immortality? What if he got a defective dose of immortality in the first place? Or, given that their own existence proves the existence of the supernatural, is it out of bounds to think that he might have pissed off some other form of supernatural being? Now, I don’t exactly mind them jumping to conclusions on this one, because they all have good reason, actually, to want this to be true -- Booker and Andy because depression and grief and burnout, Nicky and Joe because wonderful as it is to share centuries with your true love, you’d probably rather not stick around for the sun boiling away the oceans. And in fact bearing in mind that they couldn’t truly have known this was coming adds tension and urgency to the scenes after the revelation of Andy’s mortality. But I kind of wish it had been expressed, because it makes the possibility that this might be happening to all of them now - when they’re surrounded by enemies -- even more compelling. It’s somewhat implicit in the acting choices but imagine if they were explicitly grappling with the possibility that Lykon was an outlier in a different way - the rest of them were always supposed to run out of immortality juice now, today.  “Your family will reject you.” This is the one that actually bothers me,  because Christ, NILE’S POOR MUM. And this isn’t a statement about how immortality works anyway, it’s a statement about anyone who happens to be related to an immortal. The whole team seem to offhandedly agree that Nile is better off not going back to her family, but the only person who actually explains why is Booker, and ... why is anyone accepting Booker’s experiences as representative of anything? Especially after discovering the betrayal! Booker is suicidally depressed! Obviously he thinks the world is terrible, interpersonal problems are insurmountable and every bad thing that’s happened to him is a universal law of nature! You don’t have to believe him! Especially since his situation, as described, has pretty much fuck all in common with Nile’s and there’s little reason to think it has anything much in common with the others, either. And yet even when Nile has her “refusal of the call” moment, she doesn’t say argue with Booker’s predictions, she merely says that she can defer the moment she must vanish from her family’s lives until her immortality becomes impossible to hide. But why? Booker does not mention parents, only his children. There’s no indication any of the others had offspring, but even if they did, it’s largely irrelevant to Nile who clearly doesn’t. She’s concerned about her mother and brother. Nile discovers her immortality a lot younger than the rest of the team, in a period with a much longer average life expectancy. All the rest appear to be in their mid thirties to mid forties. Given how far back in time their origins are, it’s unlikely that all of them had living parents when they discovered their immortality, and any that  they did have would have been decidedly elderly by the standards of the time. So how plausible is it that any of the others experienced any version of what Booker describes? I’d say not very, and it’s downright implausible that they experienced it with a parent. Children are supposed to outlive their parents. Booker’s situation was agonising specifically because it was a tragic inversion of that rule. Booker’s son had to die in pain while his father now looked younger than he did. But Andy, Joe or Nicky’s parents, even if they were around to witness anything, would have seen ... what? Their 45-year-old son still passing for 35?  Even if they knew about the immortality ... how exactly would they have wanted/expected their child to pass it on? Wouldn’t an 11th century parent have been far more likely to take up the unequal distribution of miracles with God rather than their kid? So why should Nile accept that her mother will behave like Booker’s son? Isn’t it enormously more likely that a woman who, like every mother, has always wanted and expected to be outlived by her daughter, and yet has been living with the daily terror of losing her in combat, will be enormously relieved to know that she’s not going to die prematurely? Is it even vaguely likely that the pain of not benefiting directly from your daughter’s magical healing powers, decades from now, is worse than the pain of losing her at 20? OK, so then there’s the brother. Outliving a brother isn’t like outliving a child either, but it’s at least somewhat easier to believe there could be jealousy and conflict there eventually. But is that possibility of pain worth inflicting absolutely certain agony now? Is it impossible to talk through potential issues now just because it didn’t work out that way for Booker? OK, but for argument’s sake, let’s accept your family will inevitably ask you to share your immortality with them. Booker says that of course you can’t pass it on, yet his entire freaking arc is predicated on the possibility that maybe you can. (Which is cool, actually! But it has unexplored implications!) One thing that I actually really liked about film is it made “getting kidnapped and vivisected” a convincing threat, whereas many sci-fi shows vaguely invoke it as a reason that superpowered characters must keep their abilities secret, without ever bothering to show how that would play out in practice. I mean, people with unusual abilities exist! Michael Phelps produces less than half the usual amount of lactic acid! And has twice the normal lung capacity! Which we know, because researchers have studied him! Yet nobody has ever carted Michael Phelps off to a secret laboratory and if they did he would have various legal options!  It works here, but part of the reason it works is that Copley raises the obvious objection - why should being a subject of medical research mean anything more than donating some blood, a cheek swab and maybe at absolute worst some bone marrow? That would be enough to map their entire genome ... what else does even the maddest scientist even want? The Old Guard is the first show I can think of which actually had a decent answer, and it’s that Merrick is a greedy hypercapitalist psychopath who doesn’t want to share. Which is brilliant, but acknowledges it isn’t actually the science that’s the problem. But none of that was available in Booker’s time! He not only had to deal with an apparently unique situation among the immortals, he also was caught at a unique moment in history: far enough advanced that his family was less likely to accept “miraculously chosen by god/gods/fate” as an answer, far enough advanced to contemplate the possibility that medical science could replicate his immortality, but nowhere near advanced enough to meaningfully try. But if you’re immortal now and your dying relative is freaking out ... wouldn’t you at least agree to giving them a blood transfusion? They’d know you tried. It’d probably calm them down. It might even work!  What is the wider significance of this? Basically fuck all, but it feels like it’s been years since I got to nitpick something that I genuinely enjoyed for the sheer, innocent love of being an insufferable killjoy rather than because I thought it was Problematic.  

[downwiththeficness]

In the Bond-Chapter 20

Summary: Lilah often wished she’d never said yes to working with the Gecko brothers—usually while dodging gunfire. At no time was she regretting that decision more than when she’s hanging upside down from the ceiling, staring down a group of hungry culebras and one (1) extremely powerful sun god.

Word Count: ~5,400

Warnings: Canon typical violence, Smut

A/N: This is an AU of my Story In the Blood, which can be read here. Basically, this fic explores what would have happened if Lilah had met up with Geckos before she met Brasa.

Taglist: @symbiont13

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Things had gotten impossibly worse while she was away. More injured had shown up at their doors, another attempt gone completely wrong. Lilah, Brasa, and Javier had spent the last four days working logistics for the extra beds needed—and the extra blood. Their supplies were so low that Brasa had drained the healing pool to fill more bellies. There was little time to think about closing the portal while hungry mouths kept showing up at their door.

Lilah rested her head in her hands, wracking her brain for ideas, “We could steal it.”

Brasa, stressed as he was, laughed softly, “You’re not going on another run so soon. I’ve just got you back.”

Casting him an affectionate glance, Lilah lifted a shoulder, “Doesn’t have to be me.”

He leaned back in his chair, looking to Javier.  Dressed in a deep green suit, Jaiver ticked his head to the side, wrist turning so that his palm faced the ceiling. He wasn’t going to say no to the idea.

Brasa’s attention returned to Lilah, “Did you have someone in mind?”

She drew a deep breath in through her nose, pursing her lips so that the exhale came out as a kind of soft whistle, “You know who I’d pick.”

He nodded, “They are efficient.”

“They are available,” she added.

Javier pulled out his cell, “They are being notified.”

He strode from the room, closing the door behind him. Lilah slumped, picking at the frayed hem of her shorts. She tried not to think about what it would be like knowing that the brothers were pulling a job without her. Tried. Failed.

“I can choose another team,” Brasa commented lightly.

She shook her head, “No. There’s no time to explain why we would need a massive shipment of donated blood. Most teams are going to ask too many questions.”

Folding his hands on the table, Brasa silently agreed with her, “I can arrange for the exchange to occur off-site, if you like. You don’t have to see them.”

Lilah deeply appreciated the consideration, but she wasn’t going to make this more difficult that it needed to be, “All your people are here. Doesn’t make sense to bring it from one location to another. If its going to be a problem, I’ll hang out in our room during the hand off.”

Two days later, Lilah was doing just that when Brasa got a text from Richie that they were coming in hot. They didn’t know who was on their tail, but the reinforced walls of the shipping container were full of bullet holes and the rig was too big to lose the cars that followed.

Brasa was gone before she could blink, and Lilah wasn’t about to let him go alone. She grabbed her gun and knife, stalling for only half a second before pocketing her comm. She ran through the hallway, the office, the bar, and into the elevator. While she waited for the carriage to rise, she strapped the knife to her forearm and holstered the gun. When the doors opened to the empty parking garage and shipping bay, she made a sharp right and headed for the only set of stairs.

Feet slamming with every step, Lilah pushed through the door leading to the roof. She kept going until she hit the guard wall. Scanning the horizon, she easily spotted the semi speeding towards the building, kicking up a shit ton of dust in its wake. Behind it were two compacts that looked like they were sponsored by Red Bull. Modified with every possible option, sitting low, they flanked the rig.

Reaching into her pocket, Lilah dug the comm out of the holder, stuffing it into her ear and tapping it awake.

“Can anyone hear me?”

She got nothing in return. Lilah tried again.

“Anyone out there? Can you hear me?”

A second later, there was a distinctive click, followed by, “If you’re going to nag us about keeping a low profile, you can’t keep it to yourself.”

Richie.

Lilah exhaled in relief, “I take it you’ve noticed that you’re being followed.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

Seth.

At least he was talking to her. Lilah half anticipated that he’d clam up out of sheer stubbornness. To be fair, they were hauling ass while trying to dodge bullets. Its possible he didn’t have the mental capacity to do both.

“Brasa’s on his way out there.” She spotted his dark figure running full sprint, impossibly fast, “Give him five seconds.”

“I got eyes,” Richie said in return. “He’s coming up on our left.”

Indeed he was. Lilah watched as he closed the distance, angling his way along the side of the semi. From the distance, Lilah couldn’t exactly tell what he did, but the car in front of him hit hard, flipping over its front wheels. It landed on its top, skidding a few feet. In the next breath, he was on it, hauling bodies from the inside. Whatever screams they might have made were lost to her as he pulled them apart.

Swallowing, Lilah pushed down her initial revulsion and focused on the semi as it neared, “You can’t pull into the garage with them on your ass.”

“I know that,” Richie spat, “Gonna circle it and head out the other way. Give Brasa a shot at the other car.”

That turned out to be almost a wholly unnecessary plan. The second car suddenly jerked to a halt, stalled, its bumper torn off by Brasa’s hand. The wheels skidded across the asphalt, the back axle definitely cracked.

“He’s got them,” was all she said as she watched him do the same all over again.

“Roger that.”

“Shut the fuck up,” came from Seth.

Lilah’s laugh was cut off when she caught movement on the horizon. Dark shapes rushed forward at a dizzying pace, clearing land and zeroing in on the semi as it slowed near the garage.

“You’ve got incoming,” Lilah shouted, turning and running towards the stairs.

Knowing they were going to need backup, she hustled downwards, one hand on the rail to keep balance. She barreled through the door and into the garage. Richie had pulled the semi past the entrance so that he could back in. She could see the parking lights as they flashed at the back.

Lilah rounded the cab, waving her arms and pointing. The brothers peered through the windows, then hopped out, their eyes turned towards the approaching horde. There were maybe fifty or sixty of them, their pounding footsteps loud enough that they echoed in the space of the garage.

“Culebras?” Seth asked.

“Yep,” Richie answered, pocketing his glasses, “Been a while since we’ve had a good fight.

“Yes. It. Has,” Seth enunciated clearly, shrugging off his jacket and pulled his pistols from their holster.  Then, to Lilah, “First sign of trouble, you run. Richie and I can handle ourselves, but you run. Got it?”

Taken aback, it took a few seconds for her to respond, “Duly noted, boss.”

He nodded, just once. Richie moved to stand beside him, fangs out, a knife in one hand. The horde continued to approach, moving as a singular undulating mass that had Lilah wondering how they were going to taken them down.

And then one caught fire. Then another. Then another. Like a line of flailing matches, they burst into flame from one side over to the other until the whole front line was slowly disintegrating into ash.

“That’s new,” Seth drawled, using the barrel of a gun to scratch at the back of his head.

Lilah’s lip curled as she watched, wondering if it was the sunlight. The ones that weren’t on fire were pretty well covered up, not an inch of skin showing. Every one wore a hood or mask.  They moved around their thrashing comrades, running with singular purpose towards the semi. Lilah palmed her gun, holding it in front of her in preparation to take aim.

The herd shifted, swaying wildly to one side, more exploding into bright orange fire. As they neared, Lilah could see a single dark figure moving among them. Brasa. She’d never really seen the extent of his power, he’d never been particularly flashy when he fought. Now, he was using it to casually extinguish their enemies. No thought. Just action. A turn of his hand and another group became nothing but ash.

Efficient. Casual. Violence.

Widening her stance, Lilah raised her gun, readying to fire. The group was close now, but not close enough that she trusted her aim. Next to her, Seth popped off a few rounds, catching one in the shoulder and stomach. The writhed until they, too, burst into flame.

Bouncing on his feet, Richie vaulted into action, a snarl sounding from deep in his chest. Lilah called after him, but he either didn’t hear or ignored her completely. Both were equally plausible.

“What an asshole,” she murmured, adjusting her grip on her pistol.

“Yeah,” Seth said, “But he’s our asshole.”

“He is,” she responded, finally squeezing the trigger and clipping a culebra in the side as they raised their fist to knock Richie across the face.

Smirking, Richie crouched and spun, slicing open their throat. Their skin burned in with the open wound, blood spurting towards the sky.

It went on like that, until Lilah’s clip was empty and Seth holstered first one gun, then the other—until Brasa moved into the center of the pack and set the whole thing ablaze, Richie ducking out of the circle of fire just in time to singe his coat.

The dust scratched her eyes, the wind blowing it all around the entrance of the garage. The sun beat down on them, the scent of burned flesh and earth filling the air. Lilah wiped sweat from her brow, adrenaline pumping in her veins. She looked to Seth, who was casually reloading his guns from a stash of bullets in the floor of the semi cab.

“Is it over?”

He looked to where Richie and Brasa were walking towards them, Richie’s confident swagger juxtaposed with Brasa’s quiet assurance. Neither of them looked wounded, the dregs of their victory crunching beneath their shoes.

“I think so.”

Lilah nodded, holstering her pistol. She only just managed to keep from pulling Brasa into a firm hug, glad for his safety. He touched her hand as he passed, his eyes looking her over for injury. The bond was open and pulsing, she could feel the excitement of a battle won as it flowed between them. He was strong. He was proud. He was victorious. Lilah could feel the residual power emanating from him, a tingling that signaled that she was in the presence of a greater being.

“You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” she asked with a smile.

Brasa shrugged, “What’s life, if you can’t show off once in a while?”

Rolling her eyes, Lilah turned back to the brothers, one of which was dusting ash from his coat. The other stood with his hands on his hips, looking at the aftermath.

“Well, that was fun,” Seth chirped, “And by ‘fun’ I mean that I never want to do it again.”

“I don’t know,” Richie said with a smile, “Its good to shake the rust off every once in a while.”

Seth frowned, “Rust? Who’s rusty? Not me. I’m well oiled.”

Lilah rolled her eyes, turning her attention to Brasa, “This is going to go on a while.”

“I can see that,” he replied, squinting at the two arguing brothers.

It did, indeed, go on for a bit, until Seth shoved playfully at Richie, moving to the back of the semi, “You’re gonna have to do a little heavy lifting. Not gonna back this ass up to the loading dock.”

Brasa pulled out his cell phone, texting, “We will take care of it. Your payment should be in the account within twenty four hours.”

Seth cut him a sharp glance, “Yeah. Okay.”

From the back of the truck, he hauled a pair of large duffel bags, the content weighing down the length until it sagged in the middle. Dropping both at Lilah’s feet, Seth stepped back with his hands in his pockets.

“Got you something,” he said, “For the occasion.”

Curious, Lilah knelt near one of the bags, unzipped it. She peered inside, looking up at him with a smile, “Thanks. I can use something like this.”

One side of his mouth quirked up, “Thought so.”

Zipping the bag back up, she slung it over her shoulder. Brasa leaned down and snagged the other bag, shrugging it into place.

There was a moment of awkward slience, and then Seth licked his lips, eyes on the horizon, “You lied to me.”

There was no use in prevaricating.

She nodded, “I did.”

“For months.”

“Yes,” she confirmed, “Can you understand why I lied?”

Seth was silent long enough that Lilah feared the bridge between them had been burned irrevocably. She hefted the bag a little high on her shoulder, not sure if she had the words to mend their relationship.

“I was mad—maybe still am,” he said eventually, “I thought we trusted each other.”

“I did,” she responded quickly, “I do. I knew you would be mad.”

Seth rolled a shoulder, “I know. I’m sorry for yelling.”

“I’m sorry for not saying something sooner.”

Richie, who had been watching the exchange with interest, slipped his glasses back on, “Apologies all around. We good?”

Lilah waited for Seth to give an affirming nod before making one of her own. This would be awkward, but she was glad she hadn’t stayed behind and left the question of what would happen between them unanswered. They could maybe be friends again, if not partners. She was grateful for that. Her friends were few and far between—pretty much just the group standing around her, sans one. It would be hell to try to start over, nearly impossible to tell anyone about what her life was really like. Lilah didn’t even know how she would start that conversation.

“You never called, or sent a text,” Lilah prompted gently.

Seth’s mouth worked upward in half a smile, “Lost my phone. Same number, though. Just send me something, and I’ll save your info.”

Exhaling in relief, she looked around at the aftermath of what basically amounted to a ‘squabble’ in their book, “Anyone know where this came from?”

Richie followed the path of her gaze, “Three guesses. First two don’t count.”

“Benny,” reverberated between three distinct voices.

Lilah looked to Brasa, “What do we do?”

He sighed, “Finish it.”

“You get everything you need?” Seth asked.

Brasa nodded, “Only just. I’ll make sure this is delivered where it needs to go. And then I’ll make the trip.”

“I’m going with you,” Lilah pronounced evenly.

Without hesitation, Brasa acknowledged and accepted it.

“We’ll tag along, too,” Seth added, “Given what I’ve seen here, you might need the backup.”

Again, Brasa acknowledged and accepted.

Richie pulled out his lighter, the silver case spinning between thumb and forefinger, “Guess we’re getting the band back together.”

***

Later, after having spent hours working on the logistics of rationing their latest blood stores, Lilah lay in bed with Brasa in their underground home. She was reading through the notes she’d made on the book of bonds. The actual book had been lovingly added to Brasa’s collection, set amongst the other books in his office. She might one day pull it out again, for nostalgia.

The conversation with Kate in Iceland had stuck with her, nagging at her in the quiet moments. When she’d first read through it, Lilah had noted the passages on changes that occurred post-bond, but had (possibly naively) assumed that it would be primarily mental.

The word ‘fortify’ was used several times in varying contexts. Brasa, himself, had used it, leading her to believe that this was part of standard indoctrination. The question was: what did it mean?

Frustrated with the ramblings of her own written thoughts, Lilah set them aside. Next to her, Brasa was reading a Grisham novel. He’d been doing so quite serenely, unbothered by the shifting attention she’d been paying to first her notebooks, then her phone, and back.

Lilah looked at him, wondering if she should interrupt. He sensed her gaze, and sent her a sidelong look. A second later, he was slipping his forefinger between the pages and resting the book on his stomach.

“Ask your question,” he prompted, no bite in his tone.

Lilah laughed, her hand tracing over her forehead self consciously, “Its just something Kate said.”

“What did she say?”

“That she had stopped sleeping, stopped eating—like a normal person, I mean.”

His brow lifted, “And?”

She shrugged, “I just...hadn’t really noticed the same for me. She asked, you know? If I had been feeling the same way.”

“And you’re worried about it.”

Hesitating, she said, “Not worried, exactly. Its just...there have been so many surprises this year. So many. I wondered if this was going to be another of them.”

Brasa’s gaze was steady, his mind clearly processing what she’d just said. He leaned over and set his book on the nightstand, rolling to his side to face her.

“You took the news of your immortality poorly.”

She frowned, “I think my reaction was pretty normal.”

It was his turn to frown, “You ran away for three months, would have been gone longer if I hadn’t come to get you.”

Jaw working, Lilah kept her silence, looking away.

“Regardless,” Brasa waved his hand, “I thought it would be better to let you get used to a long life before we explored...other changes.”

“What other changes?”

He signed in resignation, “As Kate said, decreased appetite for food and sleep.”

Lila’s frown deepened to a glare, “Is that all the changes I can expect?”

Brasa’s mouth parted on an inhale as he thought, “Increased strength, healing, night vision—all things that might characterize a Xibalban.”

She drew back, confused, “I’m becoming...Xibalban.”

His brows quirked, “You are ingesting my blood, it is changing you. I’ve mentioned this before.”

“Mentioned, but not explained,” Lilah retorted, annoyed by the false equity. Then, “You said you had given me all the information you could. At the cabin, you said it.”

Brasa was silent for a while, looking a little lost for words. Lilah crossed her arms, unsure if she wanted to ask more questions. She didn’t like feeling constantly surprised by new aspects of the bond. On the other hand, Lilah like to be informed.

“How fast does it happen?”

“Every time you feed, the changes will grow.”

Lilah tried to count the number of times she’d taken his blood, and how much.

A hand rested on her arm, warm and entreating, “I have kept this in mind. I’ve limited your exposure as much as I could while assuring myself of your safety.”

Taking his hand in hers, Lilah asked, “So, I’m—what—super powered now.”

He smirked, “Perhaps not. But, you’re certainly stronger than the average human.”

Casting him an amused look, she said, “I could actually win a fight now.”

Brasa ticked his head to the side, “Possibly.”

“So, what you’re saying is that I could give you a run for your money now.”

He outright laughed, “No. Not even close.”

“Sure,” she drawled.

His expression turned mischievous, “Care to make an attempt?”

Intrigued, Lilah leaned in and asked, “What did you have in mind?”

Brasa looked down the length of her body, eyes lingering on her bare feet, “Put on your shoes.”

He waited until she’d rolled from the bed and was digging through her sock drawer to stand. Lilah pulled on her socks, stepping into her tennis shoes and tugging at the backs to fit them over her heels. Out of reflex, she snagged a hair tie and pulled back her hair.

“You gonna tell me?”

Brasa’s smile was not unkind, but there was something in it that screamed ‘predator’, “You’re going to run. I’ll give you a head start, and then I’ll follow.”

Smirking, Lilah responded, “What? Through the house?”

His smile widened as he moved past her out into the hall, taking a left. Lilah followed him, her brows rising as he stepped up to the door that had always been locked and turned the knob. It opened for him, only darkness ahead. Lilah moved to stand beside him, peering into the black.

As her eyes adjusted, shapes formed—carved rock, smooth stone.

“You built the house connected to the caves,” she murmured.

Beside her, he nodded, “I’ll give you ten minutes head start.”

“How long to I have to elude you to win?”

“An hour.”

She shook her head, “Half an hour.”

“Forty five minutes,” he volleyed.

“Forty.”

At this, he leveled at stern look at her, “Forty.”

Lilah looked up at him, her eyes narrowed, “You’re serious.”

“I am.”

Pursing her lips, she turned her attention back to the cave, “Alright.”

Brasa touched her arm, leaning into her space, “Don’t get lost.”

She huffed and rolled her eyes, but stepped into the cave, one hand on the wall to maintain her balance.

Behind her, Brasa said, “Ten minutes,” and closed the door.

The darkness was a physical thing, pressing in on her from all sides. Lilah’s heart picked up, anxious. She took a deep, steadying breath, and started walking. And then she jogged. And then she ran. Lilah didn’t stop to question the fact that she could still see the path before her in the darkness, though it strained her eyes. She also didn’t stop to think about where she might be going.

Exhilarated, Lilah picked up speed, taking turns at random, until her legs burned. It was only when she stopped to rest, leaning against the wall of the cave, that she realized she’d reached a dead end. There was no telling how much time had passed. And, not wanting to make it too easy for him, she doubled back and picked a new path.

Unable to keep a sprinting pace, Lilah slowed to a jog. Her legs still burned, and it took a couple hundred yards for her to realize that she was jogging uphill. In the distance, there was light. It was dim, a blurry shaft of discolored blue slicing through the ceiling to touch a ramp of stone beneath. She headed for it.

The climb was steep, and she had to lay on her belly for the last few feet as the rock met the ceiling. Shifting to her back, she scooted until she was looking up through the hole to the darkened sky above. Dotted with stars, it stretched over her entire field of vision. Lilah stared at it for far too long before she reached up and tried to figure out how she was going to angle her body out of the hole.

Hands grabbed at her ankles. Startled, Lilah kicked out with both feet. She caught him across the body, but failed to move him or gain enough traction to propel her up and through the hole. Unceremoniously, she was dragged back into the dark.

The stone scraped across her back. Her voice echoed back to her, a yell that wasn’t quite convincingly scared. She was smiling, even as she slowed to a stop beneath him.

“How did I do?”

Crouched on all fours above her, Brasa smiled indulgently, “Thirty three minutes.”

“Bullshit.”

He laughed, the pad of his middle finger tracing over her hairline, down her temple, and around her ear, “I wouldn’t lie about this.”

Frustrated that she’d gotten so close and still hadn’t won, Lilah braced one foot on the stone ramp, using the other to catch him at his center of gravity and push with all her might. To her great surprise, he rocked back far enough that she could get to her hands and knees. Fingers digging in, Lilah scrambled up towards the hole.

She got about five feet. Which, to be fair, was farther than she thought she’d get. He was on her, pushing all his massive weight into her back and forcing her arms and legs to collapse beneath her. All the air pushed out of her lungs, Lilah couldn’t even gasp as he pinned her down with an arm across her shoulder blades.

Just to goad him, Lilah wriggled, trying to work her hands into a more favorable position. She moved not an inch, but that didn’t keep her from grinning.

Brasa growled, the sound coming back to her in waves as it bounced off the walls. Though more savage then she normally heard from him, it hardly struck her as menacing as he might have intended. She cut off the laugh at the back of her throat, but not before he heard it. A hand grabbed at her chin, catching it from beneath and arching her head back.

“It would be a mistake to think you can overpower me.”

From any other mouth, Lilah might have been enraged enough to yank her chin out of his grasp and headbutt him in response. As it was, she could feel his amusement through the bond and knew he was enjoying the game as much as she was.

“One day,” she said over her shoulder, “I won’t have to.”

“Is that so?”

She nodded as much as she was able to, “You’ll never see it coming.”

He hummed, his lips touching her neck in a light kiss, “I look forward to it.”

“Say that again when I’m done with you,” Lilah shot back, unthinking.

At this, Brasa chuckled darkly, his hands adjusting their grip so that he could balance his body over her. More little kisses over her neck and down her shoulder until he met the collar of her shirt. He nosed beneath it, teeth scraping.

Lilah shivered, holding still while he did as he liked, her breath loud in her ears. Brasa let go of her chin in favor of pulling her shirt down over her shoulder. Lilah’s head dropped down to her chest, eyes closing.

She thought that he might tear into her clothing, pull it free from her body to get at more skin. He didn’t. Slow, measured kisses kept coming on every available inch, until he’d left no space unloved. Then, he shifted his weight behind her and pushed her shirt up and over her breasts, his mouth trailing down her spine.

Her bra snapped open, hanging down uselessly as he kneaded her breast. Brasa worked his way down her body, hands massaging over her sides until they met the waistband of her shorts. Wrists rotating, he caressed over her belly and pushed down into her panties. One hand held her steady as he teased the sensitive flesh in the crease of her thigh, a light pressure guiding her legs a few more inches wider.

Once she was in position, he slid two fingers down to her center, rubbing through her folds gently. Lilah bit her lip, focused on every movement of his hand as he explored. Firm pressure on her opening, and then he was pushing into her. A slow, careful intrusion that left Lilah breathless. She pushed to her elbows, hip rolling to get more.

He tugged down her shorts as far as they would go, pulling his fingers free to circle her clit. She whined, little tremors of sensation shaking her nerves. His other hand reached down to enter her from behind, working in concert with its counterpart to ease her towards the upswing of pleasure.

It was slow, but firm enough to keep her on edge, biting back begging words that may or may not sway him. Lilah focused on the rhythm as it picked up just the tiniest bit, focused on undulating back onto him, getting him as deep as she could. Her hands flexed on the ground below her, the scrape of the rock adding to the sensations buzzing all over her body.

Chasing the high, Lilah used what little strength she still had in her arms to push upright, letting her hips fall with the weight of gravity into his hands. She groaned, head tilted back, neck arched to the ceiling.

Brasa drew a shuddering breath behind her, and she heard him swallow. Lilah rose up with a little swivel, rocking back down with another, smaller sound of need.

It took little time for Brasa to right himself, to gain his focus back. The fingers on her clit circled a little too fast, though he held his other hand still, let her fuck herself on it as she liked.

“Is this what you need?” He asked, teeth nipping at her ear.

Lilah shook her head, reaching up high with one hand to see if she could brace herself against the ceiling. Her fingertips barely touched to rock above, skimming the surface ineffectually. Giving up on the notion, Lilah’s arm bent at the elbow so that she could tangle her fingers in his hair at the scalp.

She could feel it coming, rising up within her body, slicing through from the center outwards. Lilah fought it, forcing her body to slow down, wanting him to fill her before she came. Her mouth opened to say so, but the words came out as a long, agonized moan.

“Tell me what you need, querida,” he said, his breath fanning over her skin.

Behind her, Brasa was fire hot, the heat scoring all along her back, and inside her, everywhere he touched. She could feel how much he was holding back, the muscles of his thighs tense where she sat astride him.

“You,” she managed on a choked sob, “I need you.”

He loosed an oath, arms tightening around her. His chest expanded on a harshly drawn breath as he buried his face into her neck, “Let me make you come first, then I can—“

“No,” Lilah cut him off, “Now.”

She felt him shake his head, felt him begin to touch her in earnest, felt how close she was to cresting over the edge into orgasm. Again, she fought it. The hand in his hair clenched into a fist, pulling hard as she repeated ‘now’ to him in fierce demand.

A growl ripped from his chest. He withdrew his hand, yanking down his pants and positioning his cock at her entrance. Then, with no further preamble, he pulled her down onto him. Hard.

Lilah, already too close, felt every muscle in her body seize in blinding pleasure. It held itself aloft, suspended for several seconds until it dropped down into her cunt so hard that Lilah could no longer keep herself upright. She fell forward in a limp mass of shaking limbs, the sharp staccato of her voice sounding off the walls.

“Are you…” she heard him ask, followed by a loud hiss, both his hands finding her hips and squeezing.

He began to move, then, thrusting hard through the contractions, drawing out her orgasm as he sought his own. The movements were short, harsh, the pace picking up rapidly. Above the sound of his skin slapping against hers, Lilah could hear him grunt with the effort, swearing intermittently, until he pushed so deep that she didn’t think he could go any further. He pulsed inside her, his hips grinding against her ass, hands holding her both still and steady.

She lay like that in his hands until he pulled out. He adjusted first his own pants and then her shorts, rolling her to her back. Her hands and knees protested, the change in pressure letting blood back into them. She rolled her wrists, trying to ease the feeling.

“Are you alright?”

Lilah nodded, swallowing around the tightness in her throat, “I’m good. Just need a minute.”

As she lay there, catching her breath, Brasa massaged her legs from calves to hips, helped her to snap her bra back into place and right her shirt. He then kissed her lightly, taking her hand in his.

She smiled at him, “We should try that again sometime.”

“We should.”

Hooking a finger into the collar of his shirt, Lilah pulled him down for a deeper kiss, tongue touching at his lips in a gentle tease. At least, it started as a gentle tease. Still riding the feeling of the orgasm she’d just had and with his come dripping from her folds, Lilah pulled him closer, hands roaming his chest. Brasa leaned into her, and she could feel the razor sharp edges of his fangs, could taste the venom in his kiss.

She pulled away, breathing hard, “As nice as this is, we have a bed that is made of clouds and I would very much like to fuck you on it.”

He smiled, “Whatever you need.”

[luna-paradoxz]

Soulmates

Summary - In the world on Teyvat, you receive a soul mark when you also receive a vision from the seven archons. A gift from the gods they call it, a mark that Eula treasures, a mark that Childe doesn't care about.

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Eula had gotten her vision, something she did not expect after all people hated her so much, she couldn't believe the archons would love her. It had soothed her heart, it made her believe in the ideals that old outrider had thought her, that she needs to be herself before she can please others. To love oneself before others love her. It was a hard battle, a battle she kept fighting every day. But she plans to reach there, a place where she can carve out her own happiness and it seems the archon are helping her since they even gave her a tattoo. A mark that was reddish grey, a mask-like thing with blue blades protecting it. It was beautiful to her and had become precious to her. She did find it lucky though it was on her back, her shoulder blade a place that easily covers up with her cape. It is also something she can find only when she wants to search for it.

Eula has been born and brought up in Mondstadt, her hometown for forever. As she grew up, she learned about its history, present and its future, to be thought to hope for the past to become the future again. She rejected it, the more she learned, the more she wanted to forget the past and forge a new future for Mondstadt along with the people who long it now. Still, other people do not see that, her name carries too much weight for people to forget it. They hate her for the atrocities that the members of her family in the past had committed in the past, the anger they have still carried from that they hate her for that and want someone to remove their anger on them. She is their scapegoat as she entertains talks with them instead of just looking down on them as her family people. Since she joined the Knights of Favonius though things have become better though, Still, they hate her, they hate her family and will probably carry that anger for more generations to come.

It is something she has become used to, she has always but learned to live with it. To protect the freedom of Mondstadt outside of the city walls, in the wild is where she must defeat their enemies. For most days she is strong with promised vengeance and teachings instilled in her blood, she can carry herself simply fine. She held high and her steps firm, she does not show weakness to anyone in the city. She remains vigilant, carries out the duties bestowed to her and the ideals she herself carries as a noble of the city. On usual days Eula is fine but on certain days she is not.

Such as when she had to arrest her own uncle and throw him in the cell on charges of treason and attempted terrorism. The Lawrence clan is truly despicable, rumours obviously fly, and she decides to retreat out of the city today to keep away from listening to their words filled with venomous anger.

A tent is all she needs as she camps out near the old temples of wind. She sighs as she sets it up, the fire is lit and she starts her cooking, food is generally good for her. Years of practice has made her good at cooking and it is one of her skills that she was proud of. She eats for a bit and is going to sleep soon when she hears disturbingly sounds from the temple that sounds like battle sounds. She gets up and heads out with her claymore in her hand.

Childe believed only in himself and Traitsa, other people only interested him when they posed an actual challenge to him in a fight. As such someone who only craved god fights and to become stronger, he was not the happiest when he got his vision. Hydro vision is known to heal people, he was the opposite of that, he did not care much for his loft vision. The lesser for the non-interesting mark it bore him on his left shoulder blade, he does not care for notions such as soulmates or so. It did make his siblings happy so there was that and his vision did allow him to play with them especially Teucer, so he did not really mind it so much, it took a bit of honing, but he was able to develop it enough that it worked in his battles. It was when he got his delusion that he felt strong, he loved the badge, not for his nor but the power it brought to him. It also made him feel closer to the archon he believed in the strong warrior Tsaritsa. The mark forgot, just as it was in the distant lands of wind.

He has been sent to Mondstat for some work, Signora went back so he is left to pick up her slack, how truly annoying. But being the loyal follower of Tsaritsa, he can't reject her orders. He finishes some paperwork and decides to head out in the wild so that he can leave out some steam. He walks down the wild areas and comes around some ruins where some ruins guards must be present, his blood sings and he run around finding them. He came across one that looks in the middle of a temple, an ancient ruin that doesn't matter to him. He pulls out his bow and aims straight for his eyes. The fight raged on as he jumps from pillars to pillars to avoid its missiles and with a maniacal grin. It is then when a glow brightens and a woman lands with her claymore aiming straight for the head, breaking it cleanly and lands elegantly in front of the breaking machine. Her pale blue hair shines in the moonlight but it angers Childe, she stole his prey.

He frowns, trying his best to retain his blood lust as he jumps down and confronts her, the woman dared to take his prey, "Why did you take it out, milady?" he is smiling but he is feeling anything but blood lust, anger to take out this swordswoman to take away his prey for him.

She turns, her posture elegant and confident as she flips her hair and looks down on him and it makes him angrier if it's plausible. "You were destroying the ruins, as a knight, I can't allow any of our ruins to be destroyed by the likes of you." So many sharks and it makes his eyes twitch.

"I was just taking out a danger, milady it would cause problems for the archaeologists that might come tomorrow in the morning."

She frowns, "That is the job of the knight. I must ask you to stay within your borders. You must be aware Fatui," she says with a sneer, "You are not welcomed in Mondstadt. So, I would be careful to maintain the weak support that keeps you here."

He smirks, ok this woman is interesting she just seems to not hate Fatui, but also look down on him, he can use this. He was itching for a fight and being a knight, she should be at least giving him so entertainment. "Then make me milady."

She smirks as she takes a pose, "I would love to throw you rats out of our city of Freedom."

His blades are frozen as she quickly passes cryo through her blade and applies it on his blades, he smirks as he jumps back, throws his blades on her as he jumps on top of the pillars and aims his bow, the water focuses, and he shoots his arrows. Little hydro made arrows pierce her and she aims her blade above to push her cryo to cover as she tries to dodge as many of them as she can. Some of them cut her pale skin but she cares not as she waits for the arrows to finish and jumps after him, but he has already moved and takes cover on the opposite, sniping her as much as he can, and she must keep applying her cryo to cover her weak spots as she tries to run after him. He is a sneaky rat alright. They chase after each other as she tries to aim cryo arrows at him, but he is flexible enough to dodge her and frustrated she decides to use a large attack, she infuses cryo in her blade, gets as close and makes a wide swing as it cuts his chest and he jumps back, grinning manically. She is far stronger than he had thought. Oh, he is having fun alright, even more than travellers fights recently. He does not notice, but a small cryo sword hangs behind her back, she is slowly infusing with large cryo as he pulls out his swords again and gets close to her to aims at her spots, she does her best to avoid and make sure he does not notice her trick. It takes a bit of them, injuries that she could have otherwise avoided and then she releases the pent-up energy, and it blows in his face. It pierces his skin and cuts him away, freezes his skin and injures him enough to put him on his knees but his grin does not leave his face and it only makes her scared a bit. It is then he decides as he pushes his own hydro energy and activates his Foul legacy.

The electro pulses around them and she understood the danger so she moves, running making sure that they will get out of the ruin. Their survey will get disturbed especially since this is Barbato's old temples, a national symbol of Mondstadt. She runs, running through the trees avoiding his electro arrows. She applies cryo to her back as she runs across the field, jumps down the path and lets out some cryo to push the monster towards him to make sure he gets disturbed. She jumps and turns around circling the mountain and then starts climbing, as fast as she can. She runs around, making sure no one is around before she places herself in the middle of the Snarsnatch cliff making sure he will follow her. She pulls out little potions she had made to increase her cryo power and power her up as she closes her eye, relocates her powers, and feels herself smirk a little as he floats near, and they start dancing again.

They stay injured as they lay opposite to each other panting heavily and wincing from their wounds. they both had fallen at the same time, the winner has not been decided but they can't carry on their fight, so they lay there not sure what to do but also not ready to give the other an upper hand.

The wind caresses their wounds, and he gets up, adrenaline pumping his blood, "I didn't know knights had such a good fighter in them. I thought only their grandmaster was worth a fight."

She frowns, springing up regardless of how hurt she was, "Knight's safeguard Mondstadt, the ones are chosen out of hundreds to protect the city. You will do well to not look down on us Fatui." She flips her hair, "To insults knights and me. Be forewarned vengeance will be mine."

He smirks his blood pumping, oh how would he love to fight with her again. "Oh, lady I would love to see you try that."

She frowns, "stop calling me lady, you would call me by title, I am Eula the Spindrift knight of knights of Favonius."

He nods and smirks. "I am Childe, the 11th harbinger of Fatui."

It was two days later when she ran into harbinger again. Childe with his annoying smile as he slides across her with a pint of wine in his eyes, glares. Drinking is one of the few pass times that help her relax after an exhausting day of work, most of the time no one's shares a table with her and that does sadden her but other times she is glad to have a little bit of silence to herself and enjoy her own company without having to worry about others opinion of her. Today she wanted to be left alone since she was tired from work and recovering from the wounds, he gave her. So, she needed a good drinking time to herself, but it seems the damned= Fatui didn't get her message and he still refuses to budge even after she and many others are giving him all kinds of glares and look.

He ignores them as he with his annoyingly honeyed voice says, "Hello there Eula you look as beautiful as you always do." If she was not a noble lady, she would have smacked him right there and then. I

instead, Eula tries her best to ignore his presence and keeps on drinking, but he doesn't care and continues the chat, starting to say things about one of his adventure or another, she cares not but he is close to her so hears, nonetheless. It was something about taking on some monsters and enjoying the fight. She sighed, what was up with this man, she just couldn't figure it out. She finally relents and replies to him when he is talking about his siblings and ice fishing and she just losses her lips and smiles a little, amused as she says,

"How foolish to fall in the sea in Snezhnaya of all places." He smirks when he hears her reply and she groans, oh the drinks are getting to her. To ensure she doesn't make a fool out of herself, she gets up, pays her money, and tries to leave, he blocks her exit.

Diluc's shift had just started as he clears his throat loudly and glares at him as he asks her, "Is everything ok here?" Childe glares back but she pushes him away, thanks Diluc and leaves. The chilly wind calming her down as she quickly makes her way to her dorms.

The man won't leave her alone though and instead is hell-bent on talking to her, she 'coincidentally' runs into him many times even on her routes to take care of work.

She finally gives up when he is waving at her while she makes way to observe a treasure hunter group. "Oh, hello milady, a coincidence to run into you here again." He says so innocently.

She glares at him as she sighs and moves around, "I will not tolerate if you interfere with my work. " She moves not waiting to see if he follows and heads to the site, she was given information about.

She slowly creeps down to a nearby bush and stations herself there, he takes a seat beside her and turns to her, "Why are you hunting these weak ones."

She sighs, "Why do you keep following me if are not even interested in my work."

"You are the one in quite a while who made my blood boil in a fight. I haven't fought with someone who made me injure so much in quite a while. I would like to spar with you again."

She gives a flat look; did he seriously follow her around because she fought well? How stupid. "I would rather you leave right now," she says seriously but he ignores her,

"I would like to spend time with you, I want to know who my opponent is."

She glares at him, trying hard to hide her slightly flushes cheeks. This is foolish, he is an enemy, someone they will expel from the city eventually. So, she ignores his words and decides to do what she had come here to do originally to monitor the treasure hunters' group and gather intel if they were up to no good. She glares at him from a side-eye as she listens to them. He smirks. oh, he hasn't been this curious in a long time, he decides to let her work this time later they can spar again. They focus on the men, few feet away from them. They are talking about some of the ruins that are being excavated recently, she notes as they continue wondering if they will get any treasures from it, she notes this as she keeps intently listening while Childe observes both groups and it was then when the sun hits right above them and her headpiece glints, one of them catches it and in few seconds, everyone springs to action.

She is sparing against one of the bulky ones while he takes her back and shoots down the projectile’s others throw towards them; she is trying her best to not rely on him, but she must admit it secretly that his help is nice since she hates the reactions they cause when they throw elemental projectiles at her. She focuses on taking the ones fighting in close counters, he is wielding a bow, so he needs her to defend him. She keeps a vigilant out for them, easily parring their blows when three of them jump together and she pulls him to swing him aside with her right hand while she twists herself and lets out a cryo energy as they hit her right on her upper chest. She huffs as she kneels and she looks up to see a dark murderous look come up on the fatui as he suddenly puts away his bow and makes a long lance with only hydro as he swings it wide, cutting them all down before he puts it away and goes over to her giving her a hand. She pushes away his hand, putting her great sword in the ground and pushes herself up.

They head to the only man left from the group and she glares at him and asks about their plans, and he confesses that they plan to sabotage the survey and steal all the treasures that might exist in there. She frowns and with a heavy hand takes the man and decides to head back to the city, when he tries to pull the man in his grasp and takes it from her as he turns to her while putting the limp man on his shoulder.

"Are you going to put him in jail?" He asks looking bored, and she is trying hard to ignore the pile of bodies and glares at him her hands crossed.

"Yes, you have already a mess, that I will need to explain, and I would like to decrease the count even by one."

He smiles, "Well I can't tolerate such wimps taking you out, milady."

She shakes her head and just starts walking back to the city as she laments the fact, he has gotten stuck to her because of the sins her clan must have committed. Truly, how annoying.

She finally decides to give him the fight he wants so much so would just stop following her around everywhere like a lost puppy. It is starting to not only worry her but others too, the incident from that day spread like wildfire, and Jean also looked worried as she stared at the duo standing in the HQ. Everyone obviously knew by now that he was part of the Fatui so rumours have started flying considering it has been only some time since the last incident with her uncle so everyone had become cautious, and she would like to crush the rumours before they became a problem, so she gives him a look as she gets him out of the city and finally says.

"We will fight, a proper one until one of us wins and everything is allowed." His whole face lights up in excitement, like a dog that was given a bone, she doesn't get him, his eyes are always so dead and his feelings so fake and yet whenever they spar, or he fights someone he looks genuinely happy. It makes her curious of what kind of person he is to be so happy with only fighting and yet so uncaring of everything else, even his own life. She continued her declaration, "On one condition."

That straightens up, cautious as he asks, "And what will that be milady?"

"I want you to leave Mondstadt once we have decided a victor."

He smirks challenging, "We fatui haven't received orders to leave so I must decline that condition unless Traitsa herself orders it. I will not remove my men and betray her highness."

She sighs, knowing this, in the weeks he has been following her she has learned his undying loyalty to cryo archon. A city without any archon to rule, she didn't understand that devotion, but she knew well that it surpassed his need for strong fights, "Then I will ask at least you a harbinger to leave, it would make it easier for us to keep an eye on the Fatui." He gets that and anyways once he fights, he can leave he was forcefully staying here even though he has already gotten orders to return to Shenezaya to discuss their plans for the Electro archon. He smirks and agrees to the condition.

They decide on time and place and separate to prepare for the battle. The traveller arrives on time who gives an explanation to Jean and all for Childe's weird behaviour and helps her train against his annoying foul transformation that is something he has experienced too dealing with. The week comes quickly, and they both meet each other on top of Storm bearer mountains, ready to fight as they pull out their weapons, get ready and fight with only each other as a witness.

Hours pass as she dodges another of his arrows while jumping and trying to cut him down, he pushes back, butting out his blades to parry her and it tuns again into sword fights. He uses all the weapons in his arsenal while she must keep up with his changing ways of fighting. She hates to admit it, but he is the superior warrior, so adept, so agile, and so honed to the art of fighting. She knows it's a matter of time as the wounds cover both, their pants filling the mountains, all the wild have since left them alone and both humans move only with their willpower. Her arms are heavy, the claymore too heavy for her but she swings it regardless as he puts away his bow and instead takes the lance to fight knowing well, he needs to give his all. The fight is coming soon to a close and she wonders when he will bring out his delusion, but he doesn't, and her leg falls as it gives up on her finally and he takes the moment to take the jump on her. He pushes her to the ground, taking hold of her hands, placing both above her as he stresses right in her face, so close their eyes glaring at each other as one grins maniacally while the other tired. They pant as his lance is kept near her neck and she knows it's her defeat.

It makes her angry, but she swallows it with her dignity and says, "I lose." The lance disappears but he stays there, and she stares into his dull blue eyes, and he stares back in her pink-hued ones, far brighter than him. The silence and wind flow between, neither says a word but something passes between them as they stare further into each other and engrave this memory in each other's minds.

He leaves after that day, and it lets go of one of her burdens. The whispers don't fade right away but they soon disappear and is all well again in the city of freedom. Or at least it should have been but as she sits alone again in Angels share, she feels lonely. She doesn't want to admit it though, after all, you feel lonely for people you care for, love. She does neither for him, but she misses him, his too buttery smile as he slides across her seat and chats continuously about all kinds of things especially his three siblings – Antonio, Teucer and Tonia. He always spoke happily of his siblings, for them they were his greatest pride, she had siblings too, but she hardly ever met them since she joined the knights. Her family never mattered to her if they hold on to their old beliefs but for him, they were his entire world. She misses his constant presence as he hovered around her everywhere, it worried her but now it had become a daily occurrence in the months he had stayed. She hates to admit it truly but she mises Childe, she missed spending time with him. He always accompanied her and made it even easier to ignore the scorned voices, the loneliness, the need to always be on the edge to make sure she will not be taken over. It was tiring but with him, she could be safe that her back will be protected, that the voices will quiet down, and the darkness will recede from her.

She changes another glass of red wine from Shenezaya to drown her feelings alongside the feelings he has left in her.

He twirls an ice charm in his hands, a gift he got from her. She had been making them to please some kids, to gain some brownie points with them. An extra was left so she had handed it to him. He had at that time had decided to give it to Teucer when he goes back home but now as he sails back home, he can't help but keep it close to him. He acknowledges his feelings quite quickly, the loneliness she has left in him is something curious and striking. He has not felt this in a long time, he misses his siblings, but it is not the same as that, it was different stronger, a feeling that he can't let go just like the ice charm that twirled gently in his hand. It was for the ae reason he had refused to use his foul transformation; he dint want to leave her. He didn't want to leave the girl who had broken herself to his heart, a place deep buried in the darkness of his mind, no one has entered since that frost day when he had felt into the abyss.

He leaves a smiling breath, the lady doesn't want him though, so he has left, and he refuses to acknowledge it feels the same as leaving his home behind after all he is heading back to his home.

It is Tonia who points out the similarity that the charm possess. She says with wonder as she puts down Teucer's favourite soup in front of all of them as she asks about it that he has always kept around him, "Doesn't that look similar brother? Where did you get that?" She asks and it triggers an image in him that he has long forgotten. He doesn't show it but as soon as dinner is done, he all but rushes back to his room to confirm and it stares into his face and calls him an idiot. It is similar, far too same as his soul mark, the same insignia she always wore around on her hip, his mark was the same. The pale blue of her ice calling him foolish as he traces and hands-on it gently, he had forgotten it for so long, not caring about it but now it all makes sense. His uncanny attraction to her, his feelings that blossomed so strongly only after knowing her for few months, the feeling of home he had to leave behind. Oh, it all makes sense now.

She was his soul mate and he had fallen in love with the girl who spoke vengeance when she wanted to express her love.

He loved Eula. He smirks as he makes his way to the ice fortress, he is heading back to Mondstadt, he refuses to let her go now that he knows about their future. He refuses to ever let her go; he promises he will be being a beautiful lady to his siblings as he boards the ship back to the city of freedom.

The city is just as he remembers all those months back and he steps out of the harbour, letting his subordinate's take his luggage as they try to please him, but he ignores them and heads out, leaving the city behind and heads to the wilderness. The trails she leaves are easy to find as he heads to the thousands wind temple where they first met and finds her camping out again today. He finds anger simmer under him, but he ignores it as he makes way to her smiling slightly as he wonders how she will react. He quiets his feet down as he comes near her, pulls out his bow and with precision aims it right at her, and as he expected she jumps back, turning with that grace she no naturally possessed. She glares at him, her blade ready to attack him and he smirks, oh gods she is incredibly beautiful as he pulls out his own blade just in time for her to recognize him and he attacks her. This is the dance they both are familiar with now and fall in step quickly, it takes few jabs from her before he collapses on his knees in front of her and she puts her sword on his neck, and he submits to her with a smile. Oh, he will always submit to this beautiful woman. She is panting as she puts at him and puts away her claymore to glare at him, but he stops her as he gets up quickly and takes her hand in him, guiding to her another familiar once he remembers seeing her practice and she flushes as she falls in step, her body remembering the steps too well for it not fall alongside him. Their hands placed properly, and she stares at him in mix of emotions.

"What is the name of seven archons are you doing here?" She asks, her thoughts too jumbled and the sudden changes of actions by him.

He grins as he sides steps and pulls her along, they are dancing in the empty temple surrounded only by wind, "I missed you my princess, so I came back."

She flushes as he tightens her hold on his shoulder and sweeps her leg back as they twirl around, "Have you gone further mad? What are you even saying?"

He laughs as he spins her and pulls her back in his embrace, oh even her coolness warms his heart, "Well, I will say these feelings are kind of madness but yes I mean every word I say. I did miss you princess and even if it meant breaking my promise to you. I wanted to see you again." He says as he stares into her eyes, and she notes that his dead eyes look more alive now. It affects her heart, and she tries to push, but his grip is tight, his eyes determined as he steps with her in perfect rhythm, like this dance was always meant to be danced with him.

"You are a fatui, my enemy."

His gentle smile doesn't leave his face, as he places his hands on her waists and picks her up to spin her and she does as gracefully as always, her feet land light as he gives his answer, "I don't care, I wish to stay by your side no matter what."

"You will leave the Traitsa for me?" She asks, she hears beating anxiously waiting for his answer, as she clicks her toes, and they move straight among the pile of rubbles.

"No, I have sworn my loyalty to her," her face falls, "But I shall give all my left-over time to you." How selfish of him to swear his loyalty to two women but Eula is not surprised as she looks up to him, a smile not leaving her face.

"You are truly an insufferable man, aren't you? To ask me to take your loyalty while knowing well how much I have to lose." She quips even with the gentle smile, she is sad, so scared everything she has built will fall if she takes his hand.

As if he knows this very well, he uses his last weapon, the dagger stabbing in her heart just like he wanted, "I love you, Eula." He pulls her closer as the words sink in her, "I am your soul mate and I want to spend our future together," He slows down, they rock with each other as the winds slow down, the silence far too loud around them as the words linger in the wind. He is so selfish and yet she knows the truth has been spoken from his lips for the very first time and she obliges as she closes her eyes and places her head on his neck, trying to gain what warmth she can from him. It chills her bones, the feelings she holds but she knows the words that express them are not false and they came far easier as the sun sets on them.

"I love you too, Childe."

Years later an eternal bard will sing about a forbidden love between two enemies, fated by gods to be together as they fought the world's hatred towards them and stayed together until their end of time. He would smile gently as he would sing about their eternal dance among the wind and snow.

A/N - It is a rare pairing, but I love it, and I love their ship. The discord server is lovely and if anyone wishes to join us feel free to drop a message. I hope you guys like it and I am working on the same concept for some other genshin couples too mainly my OTP Xianyu. so, look forward to that.

If you like my writing and wish to support me in some way, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi, /luna2572, or you can also commission me. You can dm me or visit my Tumblr to get the details.

Don't forget to review, favourite and/or follow.

Xoxoxo, Luna.

[pikapeppa]

Felassan/f!Lavellan: Ancient History, Part II

Chapter 25 of The Love That Grows From Violence (post-Trespasser Felassan x Tamaris Lavellan) is up! 

In which there is more lore dumping and hopefully no huge glaring holes, kjghkg. Part I of the lore dump is here. 

It’s a long one (>9300 words), so only the first little bit will be here. Formatting on Tumblr just takes soOoOoO long you guys. Read the whole thing on AO3.

***************

There was a brief stunned silence, which Tamaris eventually broke. “It didn’t work, though,” she said. “Putting their dragons in the deep roads to keep the Blight in was pointless. If Ghilan’nain already had a piece of red lyrium from fucking Andruil—”

Felassan cut in. “The Evanuris didn’t know it was futile. They didn’t understand the nature of the corruption that red lyrium would bring.”

“But we know that now,” she argued. “We know now how red lyrium spreads. And by ‘we’, I mean the whole Inquisition, including Solas. We know red lyrium can be grown like fucking plants in a garden, so why the fuck was he so mad about the Wardens wanting to kill the archdemons if all the archdemons do is lead the Blights?”

No one replied for a moment, and Tamaris realized with a jolt that she’d been yelling. 

Then Felassan laughed. 

Tamaris’s belly twisted with guilt. His laughter sounded so weary. Here he was, trying to lay out thousands of years of ancient history for them, and how did she repay him? By yelling at him.

He rubbed his face tiredly, and Tamaris sighed and leaned into his side. “I’m sorry, Felassan,” she said quietly. “I’m not mad at you, I’m just…” She waved impatiently at herself. “I’m being a bitch. I’m sorry.”

“You’re not being a bitch,” he said. “You’re frustrated. There is a difference.”

“Yeah, there is, and I’m definitely being a bitch,” she retorted. 

He lifted his head from his hand and smiled at her. “You are a master of charmingly crass apologies.”

She smiled faintly in return and laced her fingers with his. “Fuck off.”

He laughed again, and it sounded more genuine this time. “All right. Maybe Varric can summarize what I’ve shared so far.”

Varric nodded. “Ghilan’nain’s crazy gets rewarded by making her an Elvhen god. Meanwhile, Andruil found some red lyrium, probably from the Titan’s heart, and brought it to Ghilan’nain as a present. Chuckles finds out too late about the red lyrium and warns Mythal, who goes looking for proof and comes back with some well-warranted worries, and she gets all her god buddies to donate their dragons to guarding the Titan’s heart, since that’s where the Blight comes from.” He lifted an eyebrow at Felassan. “Or so you think.”

“A fine summary,” Felassan said. “You have my thanks.”

Varric scoffed at his faux formality, and Dorian sighed. “Well, if you think the Blight came from a Titan’s heart, I suppose it’s a good thing that the Titan we saw with Valta has mysteriously sealed itself off since our visit, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Tamaris said grimly.

Varric scratched his chin. “But I don’t get it. How can the Titan heart be the source of the Blight? It didn’t have the Blight when the elves first found it, did it?”

“Not to my understanding, no,” Felassan said.

“Then how could it be the source of the Blight?”

Felassan rubbed his mouth before replying. “I’m honestly not sure. But I do have a theory, if you’d like to hear it.”

“That’s what we’re here for,” Varric said wryly.

Felassan gave him a faint smile. “The theory concerns the nature of magic. Or I should say magics, plural.” He looked at Tamaris. “Tamaris, Dorian: you both know the feeling of magic – the hum of power that you can feel in your body and your blood when you draw from the Fade.”

“Yes, of course,” Dorian said.

Felassan nodded. “Magic drawn from the Fade has a certain… a certain vibration, for lack of a better word. Or a pattern of vibration that is unique to the Fade.” To Varric he said, “You could even call it a song, if you were being fanciful. Magic of a dwarven nature — that is, that’s tied to lyrium — vibrates, or sings, in a different manner that is difficult for non-dwarves to control. I’ve spoken of this to Tamaris already, but when Templars ingest lyrium, they are forcing themselves to perceive this song that was never meant for them. It gives them powers, but it changes the way their minds and bodies work.”

Varric’s eyes widened. “That’s what makes them addicts.”

“Yes,” Felassan said. 

“But if that’s the case,” Dorian asked, “why are mages able to use lyrium? How does lyrium enhance our abilities without making us ill if it sings in a different frequency than our magic?”

Felassan pulled a little face. “I’m not entirely sure. But I think it’s possible that lyrium-based magic and Fade magic can, um… damned common tongue.” He muttered to himself in Elvhen for a moment. “They might… resonate?” he said. Then he frowned. “Is that the word I’m looking for? Ah, I’ll have to use it for lack of anything better. I think these forms of magic are able to resonate if the lyrium is tamped down by being in a diluted form. If it’s diluted, the two forms of magic can sing in harmony to make an even stronger song.”

“Hm,” Dorian said thoughtfully. “A plausible theory. I’ll have to think on it, but I like it at first glance.”

“I’m thrilled to please you,” Felassan said with a smirk. He released Tamaris’s hand and leaned back casually on the couch. “Now, we know that lyrium is actually the blood of Titans, and that Titan hearts are a source of enormous power. Tell me something, all of you: did you hear a pulse from the Titan’s heart? Was there an actual heartbeat?”

“Absolutely,” Dorian said.

“Yeah,” Varric agreed. “It was slow, but really obvious.”

Felassan nodded in satisfaction. “That’s what I thought. I’ve never seen a Titan’s heart, you see. But I’m fairly certain that the song of lyrium is generated by the Titan’s heart. And…” He chuckled and rubbed his chin. “May the Dread Wolf never catch my scent. He’d surely gut me for telling you this. Especially since it’s just my suspicion and I could be wrong.” He smiled at them again, but his smile held a hint of a grimace. “Let’s be sure to keep this among the four of us, shall we?”

“Certainly,” Dorian said.

“No problem, Jester,” Varric said, and Tamaris nodded her agreement.

Felassan exhaled slowly and rubbed his mouth. “I would hypothesize that what you call the Blight is actually a corrupted vibration pattern or ‘song’ caused by a damaged Titan heart.” He looked at Varric. “That’s why I thought it interesting that Valta called herself ‘pure’ once she connected with the Titan — an undamaged Titan, I should say. The lyrium from the damaged Titan became impure and corrupted.”

Varric frowned. “But why would a damaged heart mean that the song makes people turn into crazy fanatics? Why does it make them so much sicker than regular lyrium ever could?”

“Now, this might sound like even more of a stretch,” Felassan said, “but I wonder if it might have something to do with the Titans having feelings. You know, seeing as they’re alive.”

Tamaris’s gut jolted. How had she not thought of that? “Oh. Fuck,” she said blankly. “Yeah, I suppose if a parade of strangers came out of nowhere and experimented on your people and started tearing out pieces of your heart, you’d be pretty pissed.”

“Stands to reason, doesn’t it?” Felassan said drolly. “And as we all know, rage can be a corrosive, noxious thing. The Titans feel rage, their rage changes the song, the song makes people into the worst versions of themselves...” He shrugged. “But that’s all conjecture.”

“It’s extremely well-considered conjecture,” Dorian said.

“Thank you,” Felassan said brightly. “I have had a little bit of time to think about it. Just a couple thousand years, you know.”

Tamaris sighed. “Fuck. All right. Well… well, all right. This tells us what the Blight is, then.”

“What the Blight possibly is,” Felassan corrected. “It’s all just hypothesizing.”

She nodded, then shot him a little frown. “Why did you say Solas would gut you for telling us this?”

“I suspect he wanted to keep the so-called ‘root of all evil’ away from you,” Felassan replied. “And I meant you specifically, avise.”

She blinked. “What? Why me?”

“Because he loved you,” Felassan said. 

She frowned. “So?” 

He gave her a chiding look. “He watched red lyrium corrupt Ghilan’nain, who was once one of his dearest friends. He watched it ruin our entire empire. Can you really not see why he would want to hide the knowledge of its source from the woman he loved?”

“That’s a paltry excuse,” Tamaris retorted. “All that tells me is that he didn’t trust me not to misuse the information.” She wrinkled her nose at him. “How are you defending him about this? You’re the one sitting here telling me all of this information!”

“I am, yes,” Felassan said. “But remember, avise: I am explaining him, not defending him. As for why I am telling you, the reason is simple.” He leaned toward her and lowered his voice. “I am not Solas.” 

Her heart squeezed at the seriousness of his expression. She understood what Felassan meant in the context of this conversation: that unlike Solas, he trusted her with this information. But this was not the only way that he and Solas were different.

Where Solas had been a fluctuant wave of hot and cold, Felassan was a constant wash of warmth. Felassan was certainty and humour and openness, and Tamaris did not need the reminder of how different he was from the Solas she had once thought she loved. 

“I know you’re not Solas,” she said quietly. She squeezed his knee. “I know, Felassan.”

His expression softened. Then Varric cleared his throat. “So, uh… so we think we know what the Blight is, and the dragons were probably there to keep it in check. What happened next?”

Felassan looked away from Tamaris and smiled at Varric. “Unfortunately, this is when things started to go downhill for our poor Rebel Wolf. For indeed, this is about the time when he started being called by that infamous moniker.”

CLIFFHANGER, SORRY. Read the rest on AO3!

[bugaboosandbees]

Different life, same kwami

I am here today because I am in the mood for some fluffy AU headcanons, and, while I have seen many good kwami swap and life swap AUs, I have not yet seen a life swap AU where all the canon kwamis are kept with the same wielders and without the reverse crush AU. Ergo, I had to come up with something, lol.

So… Sabine Cheng is a world famous fashion designer who always makes some time to spend with her loving husband Tom, and their daughter Marinette. Tom is still a chef, but, because of how famous his wife is, he can’t really run his own bakery, so he just bakes a lot at home for his family and donates SO MUCH food to food pantries and the like.

Marinette grew up in the world of high fashion and fame, but, thanks to her parents, she never let it go to her head. She was captivated by designing pretty much from the time she could walk, and has lived and breathed that life growing up. She gets a lot of praise from critics, but is pretty insecure, worrying that they’re only saying that they like her work because of who her mother is. She also models for Cheng fashions as Adrien does for Agreste fashions in canon.

Sabine and Audrey met in university where they were roommates. They ended up growing up to be pretty different, but still honor their past friendship with a good working relationship and by encouraging the friendship of their daughters. Audrey might be a bit more mellow in this AU to be friends with Sabine, but she still leaves to go to New York. She’s not malicious, she’s just a woman who had a child because she felt obligated to, and then chose to keep following her dream. She’s a more complex character. (I’m reminded of the German musical Elisabeth, which none of yall have probably seen, but it’s SO GOOD FAM)

Aaaaaanyway, Chloe and Marinette have known each other since they were in diapers. While Chloe gets about as much parental love from her actual parents as in canon, in this AU she spends most of her time with Marinette and is practically adopted as the second daughter of the Dupain-Cheng’s. Truthfully, Marinette’s parents always felt more like her real parents than her actual parents. She looks up to Sabine so much, and, being essentially raised by the Dupain-Cheng’s is pretty different from her canon self. She’s much more like Marinette, but she’s less naive. She knows that people are going to want to befriend them because they have famous parents, and she will THROW THE FUCK DOWN to protect her sister in all but blood.

As for Adrien, I can’t really see Gabriel and Emilie as bakers, so let’s say that they were globetrotters in their youth, and they settled down to open a rare book shop when they got older. This still gives them a plausible reason to have gone to Tibet and to have found the peacock and the butterfly miraculouses. I also things it makes their obsession with the miraculouses make a bit more sense, tbh. They value knowledge above all else and need the answers. Things go as they do in canon -- the peacock miraculous is damaged, and Emilie falls into whatever the frell sort of magical coma she’s in. Gabriel knows enough about the miraculouses to become Hawkmoth in an attempt to get her back.

Adrien was always homeschooled as a kid, traveling around with his parents in search of rare books for the shop. They’re really, REALLY strict about learning, and make him do really all the same extracurriculars he does in canon. They found the miraculous book in Asia, so they make him learn Mandarin. They might need him to use a miraculous someday, so he learns how to fence. Playing the piano is becoming of an intelligent and cultured person, so he’ll do that too.

We’ve seen in canon that Adrien likes to learn, but the popular headcanon is that he really likes science, and I think Gabe would push classics and languages. Their relationship is pretty similar to canon where Gabe has unreasonable expectations that Adrien tries his best to meet. When Emilie disappears, they can’t keep doing the one person runs the shop and one person goes to look for books/homeschools Adrien routine, so Adrien gets sent to public school as in canon.

Hawkmoth is stirring, and Master Fu administers his tests, finding a creative girl and a compassionate boy and trusting them with the miraculouses that suit them best, the Ladybug and the Black Cat respectively.

Origins plays out similarly to canon. Adrien is still just as excited to be a superhero, he’s definitely still a huge comic book nerd. Marinette is still unsure of herself and he still supports her.

In the classroom on the first day, Chloe and Marinette are sitting together visiting as they always do, including the new girl (Alya) who now sits behind them in their conversation, when a shy new kid with glasses and a sweater vest walks in, running a hand through his messy blonde hair. He sits next to Nino and introduces himself.

Alya joins Chloe and Mari’s squad (after passing Chloe’s tests that she doesn’t mean harm to her sweet and innocent bean of a sister) and Adrino friendship develops as in canon.

It’s still raining after school that day and Marinette forgot her umbrella. Before Chloe can do anything about it, Adrien walks over, gives her his, smiles, says something dorky, gives her his umbrella and runs out into the rain. (He totally has like a twenty-minute walk home and he’s soaked, but worth it, he made a friend!!!)

Marinette falls about as fast as Eliza Hamilton in Helpless, lol.

So yeah, that’s the start of a take on a life swap with no kwami swaps! (I wanted to have one not-salty, AU, lol)

Let me know if you’d like to see more headcanons/drabbles/scenes/art!

or if I’m just being dumb, lol

[talldarkandroguesome]

18th of Last Seed, Tirdas

Tel and I spent a rather lazy day around the inn. Well, after Tel ran around and did their morning exercises. I did my morning prayers.

We had a good meal and I insisted that Tel got dressed up nicely. I slipped some new paint brushes and pigments into their set while they went out for their run. I had purchased them while they were forced to try on some doublets yesterday evening.

After we were dressed in finery I took Tel around a tour of the city, promising a wonderful spot for them to paint. The cliffs to the Western side of the city look out over the sea, with blue sand crabs and ships pulling into the sea. Netches float gracefully over the hills that face the fortified walls of the city. Then the black volcanic slopes of the mountains rise further west into the clouds. It is a common spot for young lovers to share a romantic sunset on account of the view. So I thought it a perfect spot for Tel to spend the afternoon and be far away from my personal errand.

We took the short ride to the cliff, passing a small herd of wild guar along the way. We had started to set up when I made a remark that I had neglected to bring along a proper meal. So I told Tel to wait there and took the carriage back into town, tipping the driver well. I told him it would take me a while to get what I needed for a meal, but she insisted that should I want a ride back, she would provide one.

So I slipped into the baker’s, perused their goods and then slipped out the sidedoor when they were helping another customer. I had overheard a complaint by Hectur of a mer named Naril, who had been caught trying to steal from Hectur. And when he had been banned from the Fish Stink, he had turned to bribing people to steal the rare bottles that Hectur often risked not just his money, but sometimes his life to procure. And with his husband busy fighting for the Pact, he cannot go on those journeys, so the rare bottles are all the more precious.

I had been told by a regular named Beek-Ja that Naril is often found skulking around the Rededication Shrine. So I had a few good drinks from my flask of strong brandy, then stumbled over towards the shrine.

I found a mer, generally fitting Naril’s description leaning back against a lamppost and looking very shifty. Something about him just felt like no one else could possibly be such a shady character.

After a while I pretended that my flask had drained and I sighed and muttered just audibly enough that I should consider going back to the tavern.

Suddenly, the mer leaned forward with a smile and greeted me. I greeted him back. He asked me if I was looking for work. I made a sound of agreement and he told me how lucky we were, for he had a business deal. He needed something procured. I told him that if the coin was good, I would be ready to do just about anything so I could pay for a bottle and a room for the day.

That made him smile. He told me that he was looking to procure a certain bottle from the tavern by the docks. He described it and assured me that he had tried many times to purchase the bottle for a client, but that the barkeep would not sell. He seemed to insinuate that there was something more personal in the refusal, but gave me the specifics of what he was looking for.

He even gave me a fake bottle to sway and assured me that there was booze in it and that the wine would only be good if it could be drunk. And besides, he said, such a brute like that would not know the difference between good wine and poor.

I made a note of the fact that he seemed to think that Hectur, who traveled far and wide to sample and procure rare beverages in his spare time, would not know a good bottle, simply because he was a Nord. Such ignorance. This was definitely the proper offering to my Prince.

He told me to bring it back to him there when I was done. I told him that someone might see and suggested that we meet over in one of the homes that was abandoned and half burned down. I chose the one that is close to the cliff edge and amongst several other burnt out buildings abandoned by their owners until limber is shipped in for the rebuilding.

Naril agreed, thanking me for my discretion. I left him at once and headed down to the Fish Stink, just so that my intent would seem to be clear to him if he followed.

I leaned over  the bar while Hectur was helping another customer and whispered to him that I had found that Naril was trying to swap a fake bottle for the real, so that he could make sure to keep it more secure. We looked at the two bottles and the fake was fairly similar. I polished it up and then took the ribbon for the real bottle and swapped it with that of the fake, with Hectur’s permission. I told him that I would bring him the fake bottle like this and hopefully whoever it was trying to get Naril to steal it for them, would find Naril to be making forgeries and would teach him a lesson.

Hectur told me to come back anytime and I would have a bed on the house. I told him that I did my best to serve the people of Davon’s Watch. Particularly those who are handsome, provide good hospitality, and put on the best evening of entertainment in the city. He clapped me on the shoulder with a heavy hand and told me to save the gilded words for his patrons. We laughed and I headed to the meeting point.

Naril’s face lit up when he saw me approaching. I showed the bottle and he scrutinized it. A bit of shine, the correction of the label’s writing, and the ribbon was enough for him to reach for his coin purse.

He did not even know what hit him when I teleported behind him and drew my blade across his throat, spilling his blood on the ground. I caught the bottle before it shattered so that I could place that where I wanted.

I let him fall forward and then put a boot on his back so he could not spray my clothing with blood. Once he had been reduced to a burble and stopped trying to crawl forward, I set out three innocuous wooden cups, opened the bottle and poured them all full of the wine. I drank some from all of them so that the stains would show someone had used them. One more than the others which I sipped from. Then I summoned my shades to go running out the door through the blood in the opposite direction of where I was heading, letting a train be as it was.

I summoned my flames to burn off any last traces of blood and stopped at the shop down on the corner that sells the most amazing Shadowfen styled grilled corn and got a few ears of their blue and red corns along with their fish and bean cakes. Then I went to the shop next door to get some kwama cuttle jellies with steamed ginko nuts. I went to the shop across the street for some ash yam dumplings of a few varieties, including the Indoril dumplings with stewed lotus and guar. Finally, I reentered the bakery and got a nice selection of Nord bread and spiced vegetable spread. I came back out and the carriage driver waived me down. I was glad that the bread was still hot so that there was a plausible notion that I had to reenter the bakery once the variety I liked was done baking.

I returned to Tel and the driver helped hand down the dishes she had so carefully packed to make sure they had not toppled on the journey. I was grateful and tipped her again for her help, in addition to the fee. I assume that she saw our clothing and knew the fare would be good. It was certainly worth her while. I make sure to pay people well for their services, particularly jobs so often dismissed by those of my status. If she sought to benefit from that, so be it.

Tel took a break from their painting to share lunch with me. It was more than the both of us could eat on our own, but I had already planned to donate the rest to the Temple’s beggar fund. Tel clearly was overwhelmed by the whole thing, they had that mixed expression of thankful and anxious. Not sure what kindness worries Tel so. The carriage driver was lingering around, so I invited her to take food back to her family and instructed her to take whatever she did not take to the Temple and that I would send coin for her for doing the errand if she completed it.

That seemed to calm Tel someone. And I was honestly most pleased to be without anyone hanging around and watching us. I spoke to Tel about Davon’s Watch’s history as they painted. Then I sang songs until the day began to cool and dusk started to creep over the land.

As the sun began to sink, another couple came to watch. We did not speak to them, but we all enjoyed the beautiful colors of Azura’s blessing. When the night finally came, we could hear the couple enjoying one another’s company even with no light save the stars. With both moons being new, there was more light coming from the city than the sky. All around us, torchbugs began their blinking dance, trying to mirror the spread of stars in the sky. It was cool enough that the breeze was almost chilly. So I moved close to Tel to share our own intimacy.

Of course Tel refused to do more until we heard the couple heading back to town, their voices retreated into the night.

[monkey-network]

Jay station did the same thing for Mac Miller. And faked being in a coma... He needs the guillotine. Period.

Well... turns out. The title is somewhat clickbait because he doesn’t do anything aside from commentate about his death, not in a mocking light which is an upside I guess.

But for one, it’s stuff like this, clout chasing like this, that immediately makes my damn blood boil. He’s notably done this before and a majority of his video thumbnails are like this, so he KNEW this would get rapid attention and it worked. This video is less than a day old from the man’s passing, and he knew this would get people talking.

Two, I gave the video a chance because... why not. And my god, it unsurprisingly gets worse. 

Because he has the balls to say that people who aren’t donating to Etika’s family or so, who are making videos honoring his death, they’re just doing it for attention... hypocrite that he is having ads on this same video. Because god forbid spreading awareness or offering their condolences about the guy, not profiting off it with ads, would be a bad thing. 

Yes, donating to his family is one thing, a respectful thing, but pushing people to do so thinking it’s an obligation for everyone who wanted to share their feelings about him is a whole fucking other. Because I sure as hell trust this crackhead looking massive to commit the same.

THen he had the nerve to have a chunk of this video be about this fake skit he did where he pretends to have gotten ransacked and beaten up, pretending to say he almost died. A good chunk of this video is about him talking about himself, not the person in question that he doesn’t even name correctly half the time.

THEN he has the gall to try bringing up mental health awareness, has a donation link in the description, which I can’t help but say is to save face. Dude is doing so many backwards things, that’s the only plausible theory I have for this.

THEN HE TRIES to downplay people who might have depression, saying that unlike Etika, those are notable, possible clout chasers. He literally told people to suck it up, apparently unaware that depression isn’t a binary case. His wording in this is so wrong, it’s amazing.

It’s the worst type of video, where just thinking about it hurts more than helps. Even when the title is clickbait, the video honestly baits you into thinking this dude truly cares.

I just stumbled upon this, rarely heard of Jaystation, and I have never been so unnaturally pissed about everything I had to hear from this. This is seven layers of fucked up and all I can say is... the guillotine wouldn’t feel right. I’d want this cockroach eviscerated from existence.

[randomnessunicorn-imagine]

can i get one for Garak, Odo, Julian, Kira, and Jadzia and their reactions to the reader getting a tattoo (i just got one) romantic relationship or platonic either way

{ I only write 4 characters for ask and so I only wrote about the aliensbecause I think their reactions are more interesting. }

⭐ GARAK ⭐

Humans really are weird. Really.

At first, he does not understand the sense of it, it’s not somethingCardassians do and so it’s a pretty new thing for him and so he’s quitecurious. You know, Cardassians’ skin is different, it’s like reptile skin, theyhave scales and so it’s hard making tattoos on scales, their skin is rough andresistant. Garak would never do something like this and the thought of needlesthat penetrate his skin freaks him out.

You explain to him that’s a form of art, there are so many terrestrialarts he still does not know but this one is very particular since it involvesyour body and a lot of pain.

It’s like humans loved pain, they have this sadomasochist nature butthey still don’t accept it, Garak thinks, they should be more honest withthemselves. A very fascinating phenomena anyway.

Humans have a weird relationship with sufferance and everything that’sunhealthy, human’s history explains this concept very well since humans have somany kind of addiction and when even art becomes painful, well, humans areaddicted to pain as well. They look so weak and innocent but they hide a toughpersonality. He has always thought they are creatures of contradictions andoddness.

When you explain to him the normal procedure of getting a tattoo andthat involves needles and ink, Garak thinks it’s a new form of torture and hedoes not understand why you let them torturing you in such inhuman way, noteven Cardassians tortured their enemies like this. Human’s sadism isimpressive, he may take them as role model, at least, he learnt something newand even if his career as a member of the Obsidian Order is over, learning somenew technical of torture is always useful, it’s like a master, an upgrade ofhis skills. Yes, he considers this thing as a valid form of torture since it includespain, blood and needles, so it surely is a form of torture.

⭐ ODO ⭐

Even Odo is perplexed about it, humanoids are so peculiar and weird,they never stop surprising him in so many ways, positive and negative, but hecan’t say they are not original.

Odo is always curious and interested in humanoid’s rituals andtraditions, even if sometimes he does not understand the sense of them.

Since Odo has never heard about tattoos before, you have to explain itto him and he also thinks it’s a form of torture, he actually looks moreperplexed and he is worried –even if he does not appear so worried-. Odo keepslistening to you, with his arms crossed, and his face concentrated, his eyesdon’t show any particular emotion, he’s still very serious and austere in hisways but he’s thinking how barbaric this practice is but you have chosen to doit, nobody forced you and so he does not worried a lot.

Then he starts reading more information about this practice and hediscovers things he didn’t imagine. It’s actually a very old tradition andpeople tattooed themselves for religious, cultural or war reasons. It’s morefascinating than he thought, he’s actually fascinated by ancient history andtraditions especially funeral rites and so he keeps reading books about it.

In particular, he didn’t know that some human criminals used tattoos asa “badge of membership” because only delinquents wore tattoos and so they couldbe recognized thanks to it. For example, the members of the Yakuza, the JapaneseMafia, or even other Asian countries used to tattoo their skin and it was alsothe symbol of their power. Odo finds it very interesting but he knows you havenot tattooed yourself for this reason, you are not a criminal but he could dosome cynical comment about it, just for joking even if he looks so serious whenhe jokes.

Since Odo is not a solid he can’t tattoo himself but he can imitate it,he can turn into every kind of thing. Odo can design on his solid body tattoos andsymbols. Maybe it can be a good exercise to improve his changeling skills.

You often give him advice about new drawings he can “tattoo” on hisskin/solid form and it’s a very funny game. Well, it’s not a game for himbecause he’s serious and he takes it as a training but you are always curious tosee his progress and forms.

One day, you suggest him to tattoo Quark’s face on his belly or back andOdo is so shocked that he does not speak with you for the rest of the day. Itwas such a weird comment and the idea of having Quark tattooed on his skindidn’t amaze Odo at all. Not a hilarious joke. Not at all.

⭐ JADZIA DAX ⭐

We can consider her stains as tattoos, even if she’s born with it but astranger can think she has tattooed herself. Even in an episode where Jadzia,Sisko and Julian had a time travel, she said to the humans of that period shehad Japanese Tattoos and so it’s plausible someone can trade her stains fortattoos.

Jadzia is an open mind, curious woman and so she finds this art veryfascinating. She also would tattoo herself but she already is and and her tattoos are original and so she doesnot need it. If she was a human, she would think about it and she would cover herbody with tattoos.

Jadzia truly loves your tattoos and she could even suggest some new onesyou can make, she’s very enthusiast and she jokes about how strong and brave youare because it’s very painful. You’re even tougher than a Klingon (Worf issnorting as a baby and he does not approve) but Jadzia is very enchanted.

Of course, she already knows about it, she’s a very cultured woman andshe will tell you about some of her old friends who had tattoos and otherstories about her past lives. Then you also can tell her the stories behind your tattoos, she wouldlove to listen and know about their meanings, the reason why you made them andyou chose the drawing you chose.

It would be very hilarious if you would tattoo her same stains on your skin pretending to be a Trill, really funny or maybe you could play to her a joke and you could really tattoo trill’s stains and say to her you wanted to become a trill. That’s amazing and then Jadizia would laugh all the week because of your joke. Well done!

⭐ KIRA NERYS ⭐

She didn’t know about this human’s habit and she thinks it’s weird butfascinating at the same time. Kira is not really an expert of art but shethinks it’s cool and you’re tough if you let your skin being stung by needles,she would never do something like this but you’re the owner of your body andshe can’t criticize your choice.

Kira really likes stories and she wants to know the meaning of yourtattoo, maybe you could also explain to her how it works, what’s the processand all these stuff.

I think she’s the kind of girl who would tattoo herself because she’svery curious about it and she wants to experiment it. Maybe it would take timebefore she decides it but she’s the kind of woman who likes challenge and thenshe could remove it in case she would regret it.

Kira loves observing and caressing your skin, she has always loved yourskin, every part of you, but now she would define you as a piece of art. The mostbeautiful gift the prophets could donate to her.

Maybe you could surprise her and make a tattoo in her honour. Maybe youand she could make a tattoo in common and so she would have no  excuse to refuse, it’s something veryromantic and she didn’t think you could have such an idea and she thinks you’rejoking but you’re so serious. Yes, maybe she has to do it.

[elizabethrobertajones]

14x07 watching notes

In Which It Is Now Completely Apparent Which Of Buck And Leming Are Writing A Scene At Any Given Time

or

A Tale Of Lizbob Being Tormented By Toddlers

Hello it is 3:32am and I am awake from a dream of what the episode might have been (plus side: overt Destiel motel room sharing, downside: Jack accidentally killed Dean) because my tantruming toddler neighbour who just moved into the haunted house next door was screaming, and threw something at our adjoining wall. At 3am. So I'm not exactly well-rested and I'm kinda pissed, which isn't the best combo for a Buckleming episode, but when you wake up with a scream and a thump, you aren't going back to sleep for a lil while :P

-

Kudos to the rest of the writing team, we're 7 episodes in and I've thoroughly forgotten Nick exists. I've just been assuming he was caught, featured on a true crime program, and is already gone and locked up for the new murder and likely solving of a cold case.

-

Ahahahaaaa the opening of the recap is "when it comes to killing you, I'll be the one to do it" so that's ominous. As you might tell, my psyche is utterly wrapped around this whole Shakespearean tragedy of Jack vs Dean, and perhaps they're not gonna murder each other today but the constant reminders they're living in a murder or get murdered delicate thematic plot balance is exactly the sort of thing that we need to have hanging over their dynamic, as well of course as being the start point of their relationship to show how far they've come and how much they've changed and now love each other and how just last episode Dean got in his "fine i have a son now" episode a season or two later than everyone else and just in time for it to be "so now you bonded with him of course he's caught Doom because you can't have nice things for literally a single episode and this is your fault for bonding with him, Dean"

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This recap is designed to wound me, a Jack fan and lover of how TFW loves their son

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Ew, it's Nick. The first time in my life I've been tempted to skip at least a lil of the recap.

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Imagine how tight it would have been to just do a 10 second "here's Jack" recap and cut to the action

-

and the action includes an episode without Nick stealing time from the boy

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You know i spend exactly 0 time speculating on how Eugenie might write her personal fave bits of the episodes but if you had to throw together "nick is now a serial killer ritually murdering priests on a satanic bender" then that would have been a pretty close thing to what I could have come up with as distilled Buckleming essence. (gross)

There's a vague continued overlap of the human!Cas arc with the parallel to the open of 9x03 and the general aesthetic of season 11's Lucifer's satanic rampage bender thrown together but you know what that's more meta than this arc deserves and my boy is sick

-

OH NO CAS IS THE ONE WATCHING OVER HIM ABORT ABORT

-

His grace looks pathetic. Maybe he's trying not to wake Jack up. Maybe he doesn't have a whole lot left.

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That's not helping, Cas

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ANXIOUS PARENTS OUTSIDE HIS ROOM

I bet Cas sent them away because they were hovering

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Dean this is not what happens to kids, stop trying to kid yourself that this is like having a regular demonic toddler

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Man am I glad I do not have kids right now both because I don't have to worry about them and also because they scream and throw stuff at the walls at 3am

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Dean angry at Cas cuz he's worried about Jack oh no oh no oh no look at these stressed parents. Cas is forced into the doctor role because he magic but he is just as stressed as they are and tensions are high, and then the boy starts convulsing

-

Oh my god they snapped, they are actually bringing Jack to an emergency room. This is horrifying and kind of a trip to imagine what they're going to tell any authority figures about who this guy is and what their relationship is to him.

Do they remember that he has barcode fingerprints and probably is gonna be Medically Weird just as default?

(Alex is 29 like me and Misha is early 40s and Jimmy is canonically a year older than Misha for some reason, so at a push Cas could be his dad and have made some very early mistakes but the boy is biologically only like 10 years younger than them on average... JACK looks another half that at times but this is a hospital so idk if "smiles like a toddler" "early teenage adorableness" is a good measure of age)

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(I'm stress-typing)

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"His full name, please"

All 3 dads look at each other baffled.

Sam goes with Jack Kline, which, a season and a bit later, is the first canonical use of it as Jack's surname

They're cautious about using Winchester, understandably, but it's a nice reminder that Kelly is family too and as the dead parent, naming Jack in tribute to her should have been something they were doing all along (like, season 13 all along), especially as he even visited the Klines earlier this season. Sam being the one who thinks to do this is nice because he's the most dad-aligned to Jack in a traditional sense when it's come to raising him (Cas got the pre-birth role as the traditional father role) and Cas obviously had the strongest connection to Kelly before that but this isn't a moment about her so much as these 3 stressed dads.

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LOL Date of birth. Sam wins another point for knowing it, while Dean makes back and forth guesses on '99/2000, making Jack 19 or 20, which would at least mean any one of them could have fathered him and chopping 10 years off Alex's age to compromise between look and feel.

-

Given Jack's symptoms the nurse should have been a lil more concerned asking about trips to West Africa or other likely Ebola places lately. (This may be poor timing on the show's part but isn't there a fresh outbreak right now?)

(Oof I googled it and there's "Congo Ebola outbreak 2nd worst in history" articles dated 6 hours ago... Maybe a bad year to write haemorraghic diseases for fun and also how comes no one is talking about this in the news and it's all blah blah brexit... Have we just stopped fearing it now a few outbreaks have shown it mostly stays contained in African countries so now they can just suffer it on their own? I'm making a 4am donation to relief efforts)

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*returns from the doctors without borders website* anyway back to the fictional sick white boy

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And his very stressed dads

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I have no idea how much of this is medically accurate but I feel like this is particularly dramatised to match hospital visits people have experienced which did not involve bringing in a stumbling, feverish, person who is having seizures and coughing blood

it's still objectively sad to see TFW lined up all stressed out and Cas and Dean holding hands while they stare through the giant window

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The doctors aren't wearing masks even though he has been COUGHING BLOOD

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sheesh this entire hospital is in quarantine now

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Nick saying he was "getting hammered" the night of the murder isn't super subtle

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Cas aggressively still trying to watch over Jack even though they won't let him in the room. Dean paces and talks about ghouls in the middle of the hospital to let off stress.

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Cas goes to watch over him in person while Sam and Dean have a personal chat. This is awful D:

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I appreciate the sentiment of busting Jack out before they pay the hospital bills because they're running out of medical options and need to turn to magic ones, a la every dramatic event ever in their lives except that one time Dean broke his leg and Sam was too out of it with the Hallucifers to sell his soul to make it better, but if Jack's in system shutdown wouldn't at least keeping him with state of the art equipment mean things like transfusion and machines that keep him propped up?

Mind you his bloodtype is probably, like, X evil negative or something Bucklemingy

It's in his DNA... He might be cute but he's still  born of their episodes and wacky non con ideas... It was gonna catch up to him eventually D: You can't outrun it forever!!

-

I accidentally hit a button and 8x02 started playing on VLC

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"DEEEAN" Cas shoves him through the portal out of purgatory, credits roll, this was officially the weirdest episode ever.

(No I didn't watch the whole thing, I was literally paused on the last shot from where I was about to gif it last night when I fell asleep)

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Sam already called Rowena... Smart cookie

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obligatory yell at Cas shedding the coat to put on Jack so they don't walk him out in a hospital gown

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Oh my god Jack's so sick he's white as a sheet and being carried out by 2 of his dads and he still has a lil well of snark to be like "fine we're leaving" to the doctor.

"There's just no talking to him when he gets like this"

-

We're at the promo scene and I'm still not 100% sure after sleeping on it that Rowena definitely did not have the Book of the Damned, and that she hadn't been able to make off with it at the end of season 11, never for it to be seen again, because she was very much in the process of stealing the Black Grimoire in 13x22, but this does, I guess, make sense in regards to which book would serve Jack better, and Mittens tried her best to convince me that Rowena plausibly did not have it because the Winchesters did... I'm still suspicious because I really did just assume that she took it and the implication was we didn't see it because SHE had hidden it, and from a line in a Buckleming episode as well. And either way around her showing up with it makes sense that she had it but I'd have occam's razor'd it that she stole the obvious books at the obvious times and not that 13x22 became a BotD heist on top of everything else :P

-

Jack is up and about!!

He's using a more gravelly voice and it's actually a really hot voice and for literally the first time the Alex/Jack divide (gulf) in my head that one is my age and hot and the other is a 12 year old is a bit shaken. I mean Jack's canonically now supposed to be around 19-20? Which explains why he has a "wooo spring break" attitude when we see in the promo he snaps and wants to go to Vegas.

They grow up so fast.

Anyway considering he was in total organ shutdown a lil while ago it seems a night's rest has done him well if he's wandering around the bunker

Can't tell if we swapped writers or what... well, it seems like it's possible given Jack's fluctuating sickness, which of course could just be a plot thing but also a mark of the inconsistencies in Buckleming episodes. It's still odd to me that in the filming process it didn't occur to them that Jack might not at least sway on the spot at little, but he's really standing there like a little trooper, upright and talking confidently.

-

And betraying to Rowena that his dads like her and say nice things about her behind her back, which is catastrophic for them. How dare. You're damaging the foundations of their relationship.

-

*cough cough*

"Bollocks"

Yep, her heart has softened, Jack won her over in record time, and she's just thinking about that time she adopted a wee Polish lad and loved him as her own because Jack is genetically engineered to be a blank slate son version of a Mary Sue. You take one look at him and he is Your Son in whatever way will most harm you.

-

Good grief I wish Crowley was still around to see what HILARIOUS overlap with Gavin we'd have wrung out of Jack's main superpower.

-

Cas offering his grace to stabilise Jack on the spot. Halp. It's more important to him that his son lives by miles, that this isn't even an internal debate for him. In a way, obvious that Cas would be like this as a parent, in another, Cas just offered to give up his grace live on TV

-

Rowena shoots down the obvious solution (oh and thank god that for once the show actually even references obvious solutions) and starts talking about how we need archangel grace and as soon as she says that I think "oh, Michael" and Dean starts to come over weird with a wooziness that makes me wonder if that was timed for the audience "oh there's one out there right now" and why would DEAN be personally affected right thiiiiiis second..............................

-

When they go on spring break together we're getting right to the murderin

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I mean SOMETHING is up and Dean's right now having his own weird moment as Rowena talks about how Jack will now have a fluctuating set of symptoms for the sake of the plot so

-

It's possible this is just his internal POV emotional reaction to bad news because this is what happens to me when I hear it but I suspect Dean is a lil more healthy than me in the first place so doesn't verge on passing out whenever a catastrophe happens regularly. And also Sam and Cas aren't similarly struck with physical symptoms at the news their son is dying.

-

Ya know, Buckleming, or probably Eugenie specifically which makes it all the worse, writing this woman taking a call in a dark alleyway, then not being terrified to be approached by a weird man and on top of that stopping and turning to invite him to join her in the club... this is the kind of thing where they're writing someone going against all natural instinct that it's bad characterisation for someone we've literally never met before just to put her in danger.

I mean at least they didn't make Nick stab a random woman (and a black woman at that to add to their overall awful stats)

-

I like how Jack's just decided Vegas or Tahiti are places you just kinda go to die... I mean I don't know what he's learned about them but it all has to be absorbed through the media in his most innocent way. I feel like there's something very sweet about whatever he thinks you do in these places of reputed sin and blaze of glory live fast die young lifestyles, but also utterly tragic. Consumptive tragic hero but with a twist of the reckless and dangerous later tropes of... It's 5am and I can't think but like. Vegas. Drugs and gambling high life style tropey films and books from the American tradition.

And of course it's Dean (who utterly fits into this trope and even has yearly Vegas trips with Sam since discovering his psychic powers back in season 1 and also lives a blaze of glory mindset) who brings him the deadly glass of milk (film trope about innocence but also like, people dying) and a sandwich loaded with salami. Dean went all out to make that for Jack - a couple of episodes after sending a woman off to "make him a sandwich" and regretting it as he spoke, we see the yank the cloth away reveal of Dean's nurturing side where he is the caregiver who shows affection through food and will go to the trouble of making his boy a delicious sandwich.

-

"Nice." See? He's Dean's son and Dean approves his choice of places to die. "You sure this is the best time?"

"Pretty sure it is," Jack says, backpack on, already almost out the door. He's found a brown corduroy jacket which is both unlike his beige jackets and suits from the rest of his life aside from the blue apocalypse world one, and also very very much like Sam's iconic season 1-2 brown corduroy jacket that he mostly stopped wearing although I think was the one Dean wore in 4x01 as one of its sporadic dwindling appearances, if I'm not wrong.

-

I probably am but either way, it's a change to darker colours, something Sam-associated to fit the gap of this smol dangerous dying kid Dean has to deal with, and puts Jack in thick earthier tones, thicker clothes to ward against the cold of death, and dressed more like TFW than normal as he usually has quite a distinct child-like version of their clothes.

-

Jack's concept of life and mortality is fucked, possibly because he was a functioning being after a day or two of gathering his thoughts and starting to come to terms with asking deep philosophical questions about himself, so in a way discovering he only has a couple more weeks to live is hardly anything. He's a fucking mayfly.

-

Ugh it's now solidly 5am and I am clearly not going back to sleep so I give up, I'm finally getting coffee. The rest of the notes will be maybe a wee bit more coherent :P

-

Anyway kettle thought: due to Jack and Dean's murder or be murdered relationship (lordy how is this the only way you relate to fatherhood, my guy?) I kinda suspect that Dean's about to abscond with Jack without even telling dad 1 or dad 2, because he is dad 3 and that's totally cool and he's a responsible adult, but,  you know, woozy and doomed while Jack is also consumptive and doomed. BAD COMBO.

-

I charge you with grounds of diminished responsibility due to mutual murder narrative doom

-

"I'm done being special. Before my life is over, I want to live it"

Okay remember in season 1 episode 14 where Dean was like "LOL WE SHOULD GO TO VEGAS BECAUSE YOU ARE PSYCHIC"? and I referenced that like 5 minutes ago so you should, obviously I've only ever been able to headcanon the reveal of Vegas Week in season 7 (Dabb episode, take a shot) dates back to that and is one of their between episode activities which makes sense that since they only started travelling as adults together in the canon of the show (and Sam 1 year older than drinking age) that it might as well have been when they started the tradition?

Well Jack here is reacting like Dean would have if HE were the one in Sam's shoes in 1x14, and being the fun lil brother who actually would be like fuck it let's go to Vegas and see how psychic I am in the casinos! In the context of season 1 Sam is waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too angsty and tragic to do anything other than come across as a stick in the mud who thinks Dean is joking and they're gonna carry on being tragic and hunting monsters instead. Dean in season 2, episode 9, also wanted to fuck off and go have fun when Sam's scary destiny got too much for him to carry, and that was when he was locked in the murder or save him vow from John's last words, which is a similar burden to the narrative bind he's in with Jack.

Jack, all of his fathers' son, finally shows up as the god damn first person to take his doom sensibly and actually want to fuck off to Vegas, and that's demon!Dean levels of fuck it.

Incidentally I half-suspect that Crowley, who has billions of dollars and once bid the moon in an auction (hi I watched 99% of 8x02 yesterday and 1% of it just now) probably was steering demon!Dean waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay carefully around the thought of wait a minute I have an extremely rich and powerful sugar daddy and no responsibilities... VEGAAAAAAAS.

Like, any time Dean started to form the thought, bam, naked triplets show up in their room.

-

Anyway Jack's busy being tragic, talking about wanting to get a tan (Beach now linked to something to do before death) or see a hockey game (oh shit we forgot Adam) or get a parking ticket (oh so that's why Dean  murders him)

-

"And when it's all over... die."

Dean looks over his shoulder, mind made up to abduct the boy and take him joyriding

-

"So that's your plan, huh?"

"I don't want to waste time arguing"

"Did I say I disagree"

jack, this is Fun Dad

-

I know, the concept is completely radical and you've never seen Dean be fun but trust me.

Even with your very, very limited options, Sam has literally had 3 episodes about how he's Scrooge, and Cas is... Cas. But Dean is legitimately fun dad when you get him on a good day. Trust me.

-

No one's speaking to Rowena??? How wild.

Poor thing is never going to get her mega coven

-

Dean (who has rocked up already wearing his jacket) spaces out as Sam starts blahing on about the culturally appropriative shaman Ketch has located.

Same, buddy

-

At least Dean isn't lying to them about stealing Jack. Somewhat. Not the whole Vegas plan.

-

Jack smiles at Sam and Cas in a kind of way that somehow conveys in its entirety "this may be the last time you see me but I'm cool with you NOT seeing me die of coughing my lungs up and fun dad has this covered and we've always had a weird death cult about our relationship anyway so I'm okay with it and you guys were the best dads but now fun dad is going to take me out back and shoot me where you can't see and I love you bye"

-

"Why don't you drive?"

Jack is like ?!?!?!?!? D:

EVEN ON HIS DEATHBED he hadn't figured this would ever happen

It's the make a wish foundation :')

This is, of course, the ultimate sign of Dean loving you and caring for you in Dean's own special way of not telling you he does but showing it with a gesture of absolute confidence and letting you in, and in the vast annuls of the show dates back to the second ever episode where Dean let Sam drive at the end for all of 1 shot (seriously, they've swapped back by the long shot at the end of 1x02 where you can't see them in the car but the prop drivers are definitely doing a generic Sam in the passenger seat Dean driving routine for stock footage :P)

-

Anyway Dean loves Jack enough that he's letting a kid who does not know how to drive learn to drive in the Impala, like he and Sam did.

-

I can see Alex sweating bullets about being seated next to Jensen in the beloved Impala and having to mess up turning it on... never mind the fact that both Jensen AND Dean will murder him if he harms the car, and being murdered on both levels at once is spiritually unsettling and he will probably end up an unquiet ghost.

And yet, the glee at being behind the wheel of this legendary gal

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TRAGIC NYOOOOOM

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"It's like I'm you! :D"

"No, it's not! :D (but with implied murder)"

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"THIS IS THE BEST DAY EVER"

Look if he survives this, you're creating a speed demon who will want his own classic car

-

And then you'll have to teach him how to maintain it

oh god

-

But yeah, non-toxic parenting in the John Winchester As He Could Have Been style.

-

At least as long as Dean is in the Make A Wish mode and not back to tragic murder mode

And that wooziness that he may or may not be associating with no sleep and too much stress suggests this isn't going to last as a Fun Day Trip For The Boy

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"Cas are you sure you want to handle this alone?"

NO HE NEEDS A HUG HIS SON IS DYING

-

Sam, go hug him, you need a hug and your son is dying.

Also, of course, you mutually need each other in this instance and Sam is reaching out to Cas with presumably the intent that he wants to be in on it but is asking as if just concerned about Cas

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Cas, being Cas, has somehow deduced that Dean is "taking this particularly hard" despite the fact all three of them are Concerned Dads and CAS WHAT THE FUCK are you doing being selflessly concerned about DEAN and sizing up his emotional state when all three of you are wrecked and your son is dying?

You literally have 3x the sitting at his bedside holding his hand moments of any of them and montaged the heck out of the concern at the start of the episode

-

I remember way back someone wankily made a chart of how often people talked to Dean about stuff and other people talked to each other about Dean, and Sam is now crying about Dean beating himself up over being mean to Jack at the start of season 13 and regretting it, so this entire conversation is Sam and Cas man paining at each other about how much man pain Dean is in.

I say with no wank in my heart, just sheer horrified amusement at this data point if they still are hate-watching the show and being horrified about how Sam never gets stuff for himself etc (I mean. He and Cas both have had extended chunks of seasons about them parenting Jack and this is Dean's time to come belatedly to what the two of them already had)

-

Cas finally says "son" a season and change after Jack was wandering around calling him "father" and Sam doesn't seem inclined to disagree that this is how it feels for all 3 of them.

-

Obviously he's crying about Jack and it was just the context above that made it look like he was crying about Dean and I always knew that, I'm not a monster, I'm just deflecting because owwwwwwwww this hurts

-

HUG EACH OTHER YOU DUMB FUCKS SO I FEEL BETTER

-

Cas walks off instead and Sam finally after 1000 years discovers how Dean feels when Cas does that when he was angling to come along and they miscommunicated and didn't say what they meant. Except Sam wanted to come out of mutual Dad Angst comfort while Dean normally wants to go with Cas places so he can hold his hand.

-

Jack's so proud of himself for being able to drive.

"Born with a wheel in your hand"

He literally stole the Impala from you when he was 7 months in the womb

-

Dean is like, we could get you laid? And Jack is like. Nah. I have a better idea.

No idea what right now but he still doesn't wanna bang anyone

-

Ugh a Nick scene. Tag yourself I'm the old tyre in the foreground

-

Is this the house from Family Remains aka the self-admitted worst episode of the show by Kripke and Carver's explicit design

-

I am going to puke Jack wanted to go on a fishing trip with his dad

-

There were spoilers about them doing this but I repressed it the fuck down and lied to myself that Jensen was randomly teaching Alex to fish on set because I didn't want to think about Dean doing this with Jack because oh my god someone has taken my heart and gouged it out with a rusty spoon.

-

Also: someone design Jack a t-shirt with a witty slogan about fishing rather than hook ups. Like, dude bro fishing culture but in a world where you're as likely to get dumb slogans about not wanting sex as you are for it making you a babe magnet

"I'd rather be fishin" is a thing people get on mugs for the workplace but we could start with this sentiment and play

-

ALSO AS I MENTIONED I WATCHED 8x02 IN THE LAST 24 HOURS AND DEAN NEAR RIVERS SUCKS. We also have 10x01 and Daniel the fishing angel (who was the pizza man from Monster Movie, see above: slogans about fishing, pizza man innuendo, we got a thing going here) who was happy on Earth just fishing and enjoying the planet and not wanting to go back to Heaven, in a very heavy metaphor for Cas to deal with, as the angel who once compared free will to teaching poetry to fish. Lots and lots to unpack here, when we turn this into a Dean and Jack father son bonding moment and throw in Dean's peaceful dream of fishing in 4x20 that Cas interrupted. Fishing is about peace and idyll and comes as a temporary respite in this show. Traditionally, also, of course it's a sport of patience, and a classic father son bonding activity as the long stillness allows for both manly silence and sharing beers in peace, but also talk if they want to open up a conversation.

For Jack, it's an overlap of both Cas and Dean parental stuff, Cas's issues with angelic nature, where he wants to be, WHO he wants to be (just OFFERING to give up his grace to save Jack) and then with Dean we have more classic human cultural tropes but none less painful for Jack's nature and relationships. Especially throwing in that this was his choice and Dean is indulging him completely here.

-

John may or may not have taught them to fish but I feel like it may have had a "so you are dying in the woods" aspect to it rather than for peace and bonding. BOBBY taught Sam and Dean some basic woodsmanship so he was more likely to be the father figure teaching them to fish if anyone did.

-

Okay so obviously I typed that just after clutching my heart at the reveal and hitting pause, as Jack immediately goes on to say that John DID teach Dean how to fish and that it was his happiest memory of him - and it comes as a surprise for the expectations (like, that the above paragraph now stands as what I would expect of canon if I was only taking from it and not as an actual writer of the show being allowed to insert new details in which challenge us about the characters, which is where I find the line between fan fic and original fiction really is when it comes to characterisation... Anything out of left-field and you have to tag it as an AU version or explain why instead of just writing it as taken for granted).

And it's unexpected in the sense that it is such a peaceful thing and above all I think the message is that Jack intuited from whatever Dean said about it that it WAS a happy peaceful memory of John which stood so much at odds with the rest of his life. Filed under as well the thing where Mary started talking about how nice John was to Sam and Sam recoiled in confusion until Mary clarfied it was her John, not theirs. Good memories of a gentle soft John are alarming, and yet perhaps this is a way to really confront and exorcise his ghost more than anything - the sort of funeral servive memorialising of the good with the bad and working through it to come to peace in a different sort of way that lets the wounds heal and the anger leave those scars.

"It was how you said it. I could tell." He's such a smart cookie and I think that often takes Dean by surprise in the sense that Jack has been very shrewdly watching him and learning from him and absorbing anything and everything he does, which unfortunately gives him the ability to cold read Dean like very few people do, seeing past the layers and bluffs and into Dean's core.

-

Jack just murdered Dean by saying if he doesn't make it he wouldn't miss Tahiti or the Taj Mahal or implied going to seedy bars and hooking up, he'd miss more time with Dean.

I mean that's not a literal way to kill someone but you should see Dean's face. He's been shot.

And again, it's a metaphor for what you want from life for DEAN to absorb, the prompt that his family is right here and he doesn't need to chase pleasure outside of them, that hook up bar nearby their home base where he never strikes out, that's irrelevant to the family he has built and it's been put in the subtext of what Dean goes after that's empty pleasure when he has this core family unit around him, by the way Jack has also rejected it and is explaining to Dean the real meaning of Christmas.

Of course, this all gets a bit weird unless you account for the fact he has an angel wearing a trenchcoat made of husband material waiting back at the Bunker because the chronic singleton life otherwise probably ought to account for an outlet for Dean like a hook up bar if his happy ending is a platonic family bond so, you know, end the show 10 minutes from now with everyone happy and alive and not dying, and all Dean's learned is they're 3 dads, one son, a mom and her AUBobby, but he still has unused romantic potential and for seasons and seasons they've been trying to close the door on him seeking out random hook ups in the subtext of what Dean WANTS vs what he thinks he can have. This frank conversation about what Jack wants from life before it's all over is once again ignoring fleeting human connection for the family bonds he values above everything.

-

"I've had a good life, Dean" the other reason they're having this sentimental conversation by a river is because Jack is a fucking mayfly and I hate this

-

@ Dabb please never make me see Cas driving this car ever again

-

Why are you irritating Cas like this. First boring holy fire oh it must be thursday followed by the indignity of making him sit on a pouffe? Listen, when Cas gets irritated he gets snarky and then people die because he snarked them to death. I saw it he did it to the Empty. And Lucifer in 13x12. And Kip.

I just feel sorry for Cas. Why can't he go on fishing trips with the boy. Oh no he has to sit on a squishy pouffe that won't let him be intimidating so that he can cure the boy even though Jack's already decided he's gonna die and will probably Ophelia himself into the river at the end of the fishing trip.

-

Sergei is basically like "Have you tried turning it off and on again"

Nephilim have a reboot button on the back of their neck, if you get a paperclip and poke it in there.

-

At least Sergei is so... whatever he is... I can't even tell who he is supposed to be offensive towards :P I guess with the name, I lean Russian, and then he has world esoterica and occult nonsense in his caravan...

-

The real question is how does he know anything about Nephilim and why hasn't Cas asked that already.

-

LOL he has a vial of Gabriel grace just lying around. Of course, because Gabriel was just offering it up to everyone.

Considering how he was exploited for it by Asmodeus there's a weird tinge of retconning his own abuse by saying he was going around giving it to everyone before Asmodeus ever bought him and started stealing it on the regular.

Still, it IS awfully tempting a fix to have Uncle Gabriel help Jack out from beyond.

-

/distantly: "I'm not dead!"

sometimes I can still hear his voice.

-

It's way more likely Shit Goes Down and this is lost but then Cas has learned what to do with archangel grace to fix Jack just so long as they can pin down Michael and grab his instead.

-

But I guess in that circumstance at least once again Gabriel gave them part of the answer from beyond the grave as he did in season 5.

("Still not dead!!")

shush Gabriel. The show wants us to think you're dead and my complete disbelief in that doesn't change anything for now.

-

Except that maybe Gabriel came back, is fine, but has been removing his grace and selling it in the here and now while claiming not to be Gabriel and that he just haaaappens to have it and because he has no grace he could just be any old guy who happens to have an endless renewable resource of archangel grace secretly on tap to sell to fund his life of laying low. Sergei even says HE got it as part of keeping Gabriel hidden.

-

I'm kind of assuming Sergei isn't Gabriel unless he offers Cas kielbasa

-

I mean unless later I get a bonus cookie for immediately assuming Sergei is Gabriel based on the holy fire he just happened to have prepared and how similar it looked to Gabriel being trapped in 5x08.

-

On the other hand this may be the first time this season but pointing at literally everyone and going, that's probably Gabriel, will get old and also dock me cookie points the more wrong guesses I throw out there. Still, this one has pretty strong evidence, from messing with Cas to making him say "Porn stars"

-

To, um, having Gabriel's grace

-

Okay so Sergei gives Cas all of this out of the goodness of his heart and a "you owe me" and I AM wondering if that's a Buckleming special because remember in 8x19 where they were like hi we need to go to Hell immediately, and Ajay was like sure, I will take you to Hell and this episode is even titled after me so clearly I am an important character who *stab stab reaper dying noises* wow look I guess we don't have a bargain after all despite me saying you owe me but then Crowley just maaaaagically made it so you never had to find out what a reaper would want in exchange for taking you to Hell off the books.

-

Also fuck you I never got to finish my pizza

-

While I've been typing some random ass justice for Ajay screed, Nick has revealed a flashback to 14x02 where it turns out his neighbour said it was a cop who he saw coming out of the house. I literally went back and checked the episode and that wasn't in it, so perhaps it's a new flashback for here, fleshing out that conversation and revealing more for us, and changing the narrative of what Nick's up to, but honestly who cares enough about all this... I was double zoned out for flashbacks I'd already seen for a side story i don't care about

-

Wow, Nick, demons killed ya family. Could have told you that.

-

Aw, Dean brought Jack home. No dying out in the wilderness for you, clearly Cas phoned up before Jack could work out his plan to fling himself into the river.

Also Nick has taken up too much of this episode so there's no room for complicated twists and turns, if Buckleming are banned from introducing too many of them.

It's incredible how subdividing them so Eugenie writes all the Nick stuff and Brad writes the rest has elevated the parts of the story we care about to pretty much passable, give or take whatever Sergei was and who he was offensive to aside from the whole concept of calling yourself a shaman because you travelled the world collecting occult stuff in a sort of Aleister Crowley way.

-

'cept you can't namedrop Aleister on this show because both Alastair and Crowley have stolen too much from him.

-

So you get a knock off Sergei instead.

-

Jack hasn't been having as many of the supposed fainting fits that had everyone dogpiling him as I thought - maybe that's next episode too. Could have had one at the start but that doesn't seem enough to be a repeated annoyance of Alex's life :P

Anyway I was just going to comment on his sweater but that thought hopped in there first wondering if the spell was about to knock him flat, as he's sitting on a chair instead of safely in bed.

All the more dramatic for flinging yourself around if the spell messes you up

(honestly if the spells don't work, and they took him out of the hospital, how much of a bizarre commentary is this on trusting modern medicine and vaccinating your nephilims?)

-

It's 7:20 and my neighbours are yelling again

At least being awake since 3 meant I got a bit more peace and quiet than normal. I feel gross but I may go to yoga just to not be stuck in this room with such awful screeching on both sides of me >.>

-

Oh I can tell Sergei is Gabriel, he put the grace in a gold container instead of the silver ones

-

I'm sorry for the expenses, Zerbe

-

I wonder if they use her products on the show and I'm gonna go on my dash and find her beaming about a specially commissioned shiny gold grace that she made for them :P

-

"Here, hold this bottle of your uncle's essence"

".... okay I understand how weird that sounded on hindsight"

-

I love the idea of Jack's grace now being fuelled by Nice Uncle Gabriel who felt kindly towards him, even if this can't be a permanent fix, it changes his internal make up just a bit so that he symbolically has his grace stolen by his shitty bio father but the power only came from him in the first place and there was all the hoo ha about if Lucifer as his father made him inherently evil. Now whatever happens to Jack, he's had a grace transplant from a suitable donor, very much like a parallel of say he needed a kidney transplant and his 2 viable donors were his shitty deadbeat dad who gave him the kidney condition in the first place and his nice dead uncle who happened to have been an organ donor and was the only other one with the same type (if Lucifer's was X evil negative, then I guess Gabriel's is like X tricksy negative which has enough receptors to be a compatible transfusion, while Cas has like, Z dumbass positive grace and no compatibility)

And Gabriel is a beloved character who proved his kind feeling towards Jack even if they had very little bonding overall, he clearly cared and there was an immediate sort of uncle-y kindness about him in relation to Jack (just the comment alone about identifying that Jack liked shiny things and magic tricks is very much how uncles view small children who they may watch and entertain but not in the end have parental responsibility for), which is hilarious to me because Gabriel deeply reminds me of all 3 of my uncles on my mum's side, who are all 3 different shades of trickster god in their own right, and he always has reminded me of them, and now the show has sort of made Uncle Gabriel his new legacy.

I mean. I love it to bits.

It's not a sacrifice FOR Jack like Cas would have given up his grace, but it's still a part of him passed on to Jack.

-

I am very very aware that like me running my mouth about John (ironically the name of one of my uncles) while hitting pause, I've stopped while Jack is looking up with glowing eyes and he's almost certainly about to spew a fountain of blood across the room and fall on the floor. But I like that the grace even interacted with him and lit up his eyes and unless he physically barfs out the grace to I'm sticking by that ramble.

-

Cas smiled!! That's the once per season and we already hit it at episode 7, woe betide us

This does look, however, like the scene where they were all looking on from the door so... blood spew in 5 4 3 2 1...

-

DOGPILE THE BOY

-

Er, I mean, help him

-

God I would not want Jared to dogpile me, the man weighs literally as much as an actual moose

-

Uhoh Sergei made Cas mad

I mean

he made him sit on a pouffe, this was always coming

-

What do you mean Eugenie can't let Lucifer go wow what a shock

-

*kicks a pebble*

-

Ah, here's the concerned dads scene. I'm just going to let that be a balm to my soul while Dean laments ever taking Jack out to have fun.

-

"You made him happy. You did more for him than any of us"

1 dude you tried, 2 you took him on hunting trips and had fun already this season so he got his Cas Time before he died like he wanted 3 just fucking abduct him wrapped in a duvet and go fishing in the dead of night if you have to, trust me, he'd love it and your family is such a mess he wouldn't even think it's weird.

I mean you've literally absconded illegally with him before, what's a trip up to that beach where he was born and some fishing gear really going to cost you with annoyance from Dean

-

"What can we do?" "Watch over him," Rowena says with Cas in the background, and continues to carve me out with a rusty spoon

-

"As he dies"

Nah he'll be fine shut up Rowena D:

-

*whimper*

-

Well that was a very good episode if you act like me and pretend that none of the Nick stuff happened at all.

[bucky-sk-blog]

Rich

〖Rich!Bucky Barnes AU x Fem!Reader〗

▷ request: @thelavender-softwitch // so...rich au...bucky x reader...ok...they’re both rich

▷ warnings: swearing

▷ summary: You come from Old Money drenched in blood. Spending your wealth at charities is how you return what your family took. At one, you stumble into James Buchanan Barnes, another wealthy kid who comes from an army family. He’s a little brash and fucked up and you’re just the bit of sweetness he needs.

▷ word count: 

▷ chapters: 1/3

▷ a|n: this is all my wife’s fault--she’s obsessed with those rich ass people shows where they buy $73 mil homes

>>>>>

Another million spent. You looked down at the check you had just signed and smiled weakly. You were giving a foundation dedicated to assisting with UN peace groups in war-torn countries blood money. Holding the check in your grip for a second longer, you wondered if your father’s people had helped further ignite any of the wars. It was entirely plausible, your family’s wealth stemmed from bloodshed and had since long before America was a colony. Mercenaries, arms-deals, assassinations. . .your stomach twisted at the thought of all the pain, all the screams.

“Miss?”

You jumped a little and smiled brighter at the woman waiting for you to hand over the check. With hurried movements, you pressed the sheet of paper into her palm and scurried off to the bar. There were mostly older gentlemen with their wives showcasing their wealth through jewels larger than your fist hanging off their necks and ears. You shouldered past with a polite and meek “pardon.” At the bar, you tried to get up on a stool only to accidentally elbow the man next to you.

“Watch it, sweetheart,” a deep voice bristled.

You spun to face him and give apology after apology but stumbled to find the words. Blue. His eyes were blue and. . .old. Too old for a face that looked so fresh and new, only 26 or so. His hair was slicked back slightly and his razor-sharp jaw wore a slight layer of stubble. His lips quirked from a bitter frown to a smirk. “See something you like, doll,” he murmured and you were aflame.

With embarrassment.

“I’m so, so sorry,” you said quickly and threw out your hands in a defensive gesture.

He flinched a little, almost too quick for you not to notice. His tongue darted out, licking his lips as he recovered. “Lookin’ like that, I should be apologizing to you for not gettin’ you a drink yet.”

You tilted your head at the comment and lowered your arms. Slowly. He startled easily at the quick movements. “It’s okay. I’ll get my own,” You murmured and tried to hop up on your stool even with a skin-tight dress and high heels that the Empire State Building envied.

The brunette was persistent though. He lightly grabbed your shoulder and spun you back to him. “Hey, I’m James but everyone calls me Bucky.”

His smile was softer for a second. His voice was kind like a warm blanket in winter.

You held out your hand and he shook it. “Nice to meet you, Bucky.” It took you a second but with that jawline and name, you realized who you were speaking to. “You’re a Barnes, right? Sergeant Barnes?”

Bucky grimaced a bit at the title. “Yeah, What’s it to you?”

He was torn a little. You could see the bits where he meant no harm but he was also full of rough edges; sharp, piercing sides. It had confirmed some of the rumors or gossip that you’d heard about his family. War dogs that were all work and no play. Expect, the way Bucky had looked at you for that one second. It was sweet, playful. He had little broken pieces but they were pure.

You shook your head and bit your lip to hold down a grin. “Just putting a face to the name.”

He knocked back a shot. Then another. There were already four empty ones in front of him. Bucky was also known for being a bit of a party man. You simply grinned at him as he went down his line.

His eyes caught yours as he reached for the last glass and he picked up the crystal full of swirling amber. “Want one, doll?”

You plucked it from his grasp and sipped the shot. “Thanks, Bucky,” you chuckled lightly. “Y/n.”

With an arched eyebrow, Bucky sat up a little straighter. “Y/n L/n?”

You nodded and polished off the shot, lining it up perfectly with his row.

Bucky eyed you a bit more wearily. You understood why though. His family fought in what yours started.

The bartender walked by and you waved him over quickly while opening your clutch. Pulling out two crisp hundreds, you placed the cash in his palm and way the young man stumbled to say something, to correct you.

“Take it,” you smiled and pushed his outstretched hand back.

“Thank you,” He squeaked and hurried off.

“So,” you drawled as you put your attention back on Bucky, “why’re you here?”

He smirked a little and leaned forward. “To get drunk.”

You copied his actions and watched with a small giggle as his eyes dilated and nostrils flared—he liked it. “Then why’d I see you slipping a check into the donation bins.”

Bucky tensed. Pulling back he seemed to close off himself entirely. “None of your fucking business,” he bit and waved for more shots.

You gently touched his arm that was laying on the bar. “I’m sorry,” you murmured as you felt him stiffen from the contact. “I didn’t know it was that important of a secret.”

Bucky tilted your chin up so your eyes could meet. “Hey, sweetheart, where’s your smile at?”

You gave him the brightest and easiest smile that reached your eyes and heart. A soft laugh tumbled out of you as his own tiny smirk turned into a genuine smile. You squeezed his arm lightly. “Let me buy you a drink.”

>>>>

“Hey, fuck you,” you slurred as you stumbled down the sidewalk.

Bucky caught you and let loose a laugh as you clung to his body. “You’re gonna have to get my pants off first, sweetheart.”

You snorted and buried your face into his chest. “Dayum, you’re like a giant-a giant teddy thing. Bear.”

Bucky carded his fingers through your hair and smirked as you squeaked after he swung you up into a bridal carry. “You’ve got a mouth on you, lightweight.”

“Pffft, I’m not even drunk—Whoa,” you gasped at the end. Your hand was on his bicep and drunk you was loving squeezing the muscle.

Bucky saw your fascination with his arm and flexed a little more causing him to laugh as your eyes grew wider. A slight yawn fell off your lips and you snuggled into Bucky as he carried you down the street. His lips tilted into a soft smile, one he didn’t know he had.

Steve, Bucky’s bodyguard/driver/friend from his army days, pulled over the car he’d been following them in since they left the bar. He stepped out of the sleek car in a classy suit, opening the back door for Bucky. “What you got there, Buck?”

Bucky shrugged as he slipped into the car. “A pretty fuckin’ drunk dame.”

Steve gently shut the door, not wanting to wake the girl. As he got into the driver seat he asked Bucky, “what’s her address?”

Bucky shrugged. “Just head back to my place.”

“You sure, Buck?”

He nodded and adjusted you in his arms. “Yeah, s’okay.”

While Steve weaved his way through late-night traffic he poked and prodded Bucky for details on the woman. Usually, Bucky brought a girl or a few to a hotel after a party but this was a charity event and you were asleep and going to his home.

“Steve, she’s. . .sweet. Soft,” he murmured. “I like it.”

“I bet you were a dick,” Steve chuckled.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but when I was she just had this smile like she knew something was wrong and that it was okay. It felt safe, Stevie.”

Steve parked the car as they arrived at Bucky’s mansion. “Sounds like you’ve got yourself your girl.”

“What do you mean?” Bucky asked as Steve opened his door and helped him get out without bonking any part of you on the car.

“You went to war real young, Buck, and it made you a tough asshole. You don’t trust anyone because of your family.” Steve smiled down at your sleeping form as you babbled in your sleep and held tighter to his best friend. “She’s an angel. Your angel, if you want her to be.”

Bucky brushed and it off with a forced laugh. “You’re a sap.”

>>>>

Bucky looked up from his phone as he heard you shuffling down the hallway. You appeared in the doorway of the kitchen with your hair sticking up all over and heavy bags under your eyes. Bucky smiled at the way you yawned adorably, like a small fawn, and stretched so his shirt and shorts he left for you to change into ruffled. 

“Good morning,” you mumbled, slipping into the chair next to his.

He set down his phone and pushed over the plate of fruit he had toward you. “Eat.”

“Bossy,” you grinned and popped a cherry into your mouth. He watched you zone out and focus on the cherry you were eating. With a smile, you opened your mouth and showed him that you made a perfect knot with the stem. Bucky let out a low whistle and handed you a napkin to spit it into. 

“Hey, listen,” he began as you folded your legs onto the chair and tossed another cherry (without the stem) into your mouth, “I was a bit of a dick last night and I was wondering if you could start over.”

You smiled at the blush that snuck up on his cheeks. “All right. Hi, I’m y/n.” You held out your hand and he shook it with a firm grip equal to his strong personality.

“Bucky,” he introduced. Bucky paused and seemed to ponder something before he gave you a smirk to match the brightness of the sun. “Say, y/n, think we could get a cup of coffee sometime?”

“I would love to, Bucky.”

[orbemnews]

The Covid-19 Plasma Boom Is Over. What Did We Learn From It? Scott Cohen was on a ventilator struggling for his life with Covid-19 last April when his brothers pleaded with Plainview Hospital on Long Island to infuse him with the blood plasma of a recovered patient. The experimental treatment was hard to get but was gaining attention at a time when doctors had little else. After an online petition drew 18,000 signatures, the hospital gave Mr. Cohen, a retired Nassau County medic, an infusion of the pale yellow stuff that some called “liquid gold.” In those terrifying early months of the pandemic, the idea that antibody-rich plasma could save lives took on a life of its own before there was evidence that it worked. The Trump administration, buoyed by proponents at elite medical institutions, seized on plasma as a good-news story at a time when there weren’t many others. It awarded more than $800 million to entities involved in its collection and administration, and put Dr. Anthony S. Fauci’s face on billboards promoting the treatment. A coalition of companies and nonprofit groups, including the Mayo Clinic, Red Cross and Microsoft, mobilized to urge donations from people who had recovered from Covid-19, enlisting celebrities like Samuel L. Jackson and Dwayne Johnson, the actor known as the Rock. Volunteers, some dressed in superhero capes, showed up to blood banks in droves. Mr. Cohen, who later recovered, was one of them. He went on to donate his own plasma 11 times. But by the end of the year, good evidence for convalescent plasma had not materialized, prompting many prestigious medical centers to quietly abandon it. By February, with cases and hospitalizations dropping, demand dipped below what blood banks had stockpiled. In March, the New York Blood Center called Mr. Cohen to cancel his 12th appointment. It didn’t need any more plasma. A year ago, when Americans were dying of Covid at an alarming rate, the federal government made a big bet on plasma. No one knew if the treatment would work, but it seemed biologically plausible and safe, and there wasn’t much else to try. All told, more than 722,000 units of plasma were distributed to hospitals thanks to the federal program, which ends this month. The government’s bet did not result in a blockbuster treatment for Covid-19, or even a decent one. But it did give the country a real-time education in the pitfalls of testing a medical treatment in the middle of an emergency. Medical science is messy and slow. And when a treatment fails, which is often, it can be difficult for its strongest proponents to let it go. Because the government gave plasma to so many patients outside of a controlled clinical trial, it took a long time to measure its effectiveness. Eventually, studies did emerge to suggest that under the right conditions, plasma might help. But enough evidence has now accumulated to show that the country’s broad, costly plasma campaign had little effect, especially in people whose disease was advanced enough to land them in the hospital. In interviews, three federal health officials — Dr. Stephen M. Hahn, the former commissioner of the Food and Drug Administration; Dr. Peter Marks, a top F.D.A. regulator; and Dr. H. Clifford Lane, a clinical director at the National Institutes of Health — acknowledged that the evidence for plasma was limited. “The data are just not that strong, and it makes it makes it hard, I think, to be enthusiastic about seeing it continue to be used,” Dr. Lane said. The N.I.H. recently halted an outpatient trial of plasma because of a lack of benefit. Plasma promotions Doctors have used the antibodies of recovered patients as treatments for more than a century, for diseases including diphtheria, the 1918 flu and Ebola. So when patients began falling ill with the new coronavirus last year, doctors around the world turned to the old standby. In the United States, two hospitals — Mount Sinai in New York City and Houston Methodist in Texas — administered the first plasma units to Covid-19 patients within hours of each other on March 28. Dr. Nicole M. Bouvier, an infectious-disease doctor who helped set up Mount Sinai’s plasma program, said the hospital had tried the experimental treatment because blood transfusions carry a relatively low risk of harm. With a new virus spreading quickly, and no approved treatments, “nature is a much better manufacturer than we are,” she said. As Mount Sinai prepared to infuse patients with plasma, Diana Berrent, a photographer, was recovering from Covid-19 at her home in Port Washington, N.Y. Friends began sending her Mount Sinai’s call for donors. “I had no idea what plasma was — I haven’t taken a science class since high school,” Ms. Berrent recalled. But as she researched its history in previous disease outbreaks, she became fixated on how she could help. She formed a Facebook group of Covid-19 survivors that grew to more than 160,000 members and eventually became a health advocacy organization, Survivor Corps. She livestreamed her own donation sessions to the Facebook group, which in turn prompted more donations. “People were flying places to go donate plasma to each other,” she said. “It was really a beautiful thing to see.” Around the same time, Chaim Lebovits, a shoe wholesaler from Monsey, N.Y., in hard-hit Rockland County, was spreading the word about plasma within his Orthodox Jewish community. Mr. Lebovits called several rabbis he knew, and before long, thousands of Orthodox Jewish people were getting tested for coronavirus antibodies and showing up to donate. Coordinating it all was exhausting. “April,” Mr. Lebovits recalled with a laugh, “was like 20 decades.” Two developments that month further accelerated plasma’s use. With the help of $66 million in federal funding, the F.D.A. tapped the Mayo Clinic to run an expanded access program for hospitals across the country. And the government agreed to cover the administrative costs of collecting plasma, signing deals with the American Red Cross and America’s Blood Centers. The news releases announcing those deals got none of the flashy media attention that the billion-dollar contracts for Covid-19 vaccines did when they arrived later in the summer. And the government did not disclose how much it would be investing. That investment turned out to be significant. According to contract records, the U.S. government has paid $647 million to the American Red Cross and America’s Blood Centers since last April. “The convalescent plasma program was intended to meet an urgent need for a potential therapy early in the pandemic,” a health department spokeswoman said in a statement. “When these contracts began, treatments weren’t available for hospitalized Covid-19 patients.” Updated  April 17, 2021, 10:17 a.m. ET As spring turned to summer, the Trump administration seized on plasma — as it had with the unproven drug hydroxychloroquine — as a promising solution. In July, the administration announced an $8 million advertising campaign “imploring Americans to donate their plasma and help save lives.” The blitz included promotional radio spots and billboards featuring Dr. Fauci and Dr. Hahn, the F.D.A. commissioner. A coalition to organize the collection of plasma was beginning to take shape, connecting researchers, federal officials, activists like Ms. Berrent and Mr. Lebovits, and major corporations like Microsoft and Anthem on regular calls that have continued to this day. Nonprofit blood banks and for-profit plasma collection companies also joined the collaboration, named the Fight Is In Us. The group also included the Mitre Corporation, a little-known nonprofit organization that had received a $37 million government grant to promote plasma donation around the country. The participants sometimes had conflicting interests. While the blood banks were collecting plasma to be immediately infused in hospitalized patients, the for-profit companies needed plasma donations to develop their own blood-based treatment for Covid-19. Donations at those companies’ own centers had also dropped off after national lockdowns. “They don’t all exactly get along,” Peter Lee, the corporate vice president of research and incubations at Microsoft, said at a virtual scientific forum in March organized by Scripps Research. Microsoft was recruited to develop a locator tool, embedded on the group’s website, for potential donors. But the company took on a broader role “as a neutral intermediary,” Dr. Lee said. The company also provided access to its advertising agency, which created the look and feel for the Fight Is In Us campaign, which included video testimonials from celebrities. Lack of evidence In August, the F.D.A. authorized plasma for emergency use under pressure from President Donald J. Trump, who had chastised federal scientists for moving too slowly. At a news conference, Dr. Hahn, the agency’s commissioner, substantially exaggerated the data, although he later corrected his remarks following criticism from the scientific community. In a recent interview, he said that Mr. Trump’s involvement in the plasma authorization had made the topic polarizing. “Any discussion one could have about the science and medicine behind it didn’t happen, because it became a political issue as opposed to a medical and scientific one,” Dr. Hahn said. The authorization did away with the Mayo Clinic system and opened access to even more hospitals. As Covid-19 cases, hospitalizations and deaths skyrocketed in the fall and winter, use of plasma did, too, according to national usage data provided by the Blood Centers of America. By January of this year, when the United States was averaging more than 130,000 hospitalizations a day, hospitals were administering 25,000 units of plasma per week. Many community hospitals serving lower-income patients, with few other options and plasma readily available, embraced the treatment. At the Integris Health system in Oklahoma, giving patients two units of plasma became standard practice between November and January. Dr. David Chansolme, the system’s medical director of infection prevention, acknowledged that studies of plasma had showed it was “more miss than hit,” but he said his hospitals last year lacked the resources of bigger institutions, including access to the antiviral drug remdesivir. Doctors with a flood of patients — many of them Hispanic and from rural communities — were desperate to treat them with anything they could that was safe, Dr. Chansolme said. By the fall, accumulating evidence was showing that plasma was not the miracle that some early boosters had believed it to be. In September, the Infectious Diseases Society of America recommended that plasma not be used in hospitalized patients outside of a clinical trial. (On Wednesday, the society restricted its advice further, saying plasma should not be used at all in hospitalized patients.) In January, a highly anticipated trial in Britain was halted early because there was not strong evidence of a benefit in hospitalized patients. In February, the F.D.A. narrowed the authorization for plasma so that it applied only to people who were early in the course of their disease or who couldn’t make their own antibodies. Dr. Marks, the F.D.A. regulator, said that in retrospect, scientists had been too slow to adapt to those recommendations. They had known from previous disease outbreaks that plasma treatment is likely to work best when given early, and when it contained high levels of antibodies, he said. “Somehow we didn’t really take that as seriously as perhaps we should have,” he said. “If there was a lesson in this, it’s that history actually can teach you something.” Today, several medical centers have largely stopped giving plasma to patients. At Rush University Medical Center in Chicago, researchers found that many hospitalized patients were already producing their own antibodies, so plasma treatments would be superfluous. The Cleveland Clinic no longer routinely administers plasma because of a “lack of convincing evidence of efficacy,” according to Dr. Simon Mucha, a critical care physician. And earlier this year, Mount Sinai stopped giving plasma to patients outside of a clinical trial. Dr. Bouvier said that she had tracked the scientific literature and that there had been a “sort of piling on” of studies that showed no benefit. “That’s what science is — it’s a process of abandoning your old hypotheses in favor of a better hypothesis,” she said. Many initially promising drugs fail in clinical trials. “That’s just the way the cookie crumbles.” Plasma’s future Some scientists are calling on the F.D.A. to rescind plasma’s emergency authorization. Dr. Luciana Borio, the acting chief scientist at the agency under President Barack Obama, said that disregarding the usual scientific standards in an emergency — what she called “pandemic exceptionalism” — had drained valuable time and attention from discovering other treatments. “Pandemic exceptionalism is something we learned from prior emergencies that leads to serious unintended consequences,” she said, referring to the ways countries leaned on inadequate studies during the Ebola outbreak. With plasma, she said, “the agency forgot lessons from past emergencies.” While scant evidence shows that plasma will help curb the pandemic, a dedicated clutch of researchers at prominent medical institutions continue to focus on the narrow circumstances in which it might work. Dr. Arturo Casadevall, an immunologist at Johns Hopkins University, said many of the trials had not succeeded because they tested plasma on very sick patients. “If they’re treated early, the results of the trials are all consistent,” he said. A clinical trial in Argentina found that giving plasma early to older people reduced the progression of Covid-19. And an analysis of the Mayo Clinic program found that patients who were given plasma with a high concentration of antibodies fared better than those who did not receive the treatment. Still, in March, the N.I.H. halted a trial of plasma in people who were not yet severely ill with Covid-19 because the agency said it was unlikely to help. With most of the medical community acknowledging plasma’s limited benefit, even the Fight Is In Us has begun to shift its focus. For months, a “clinical research” page about convalescent plasma was dominated by favorable studies and news releases, omitting major articles concluding that plasma showed little benefit. Now, the website has been redesigned to more broadly promote not only plasma, but also testing, vaccines and other treatments like monoclonal antibodies, which are synthesized in a lab and thought to be a more potent version of plasma. Its clinical research page also includes more negative studies about plasma. Nevertheless, the Fight Is In Us is still running Facebook ads, paid for by the federal government, telling Covid-19 survivors that “There’s a hero inside you” and “Keep up the fight.” The ads urge them to donate their plasma, even though most blood banks have stopped collecting it. Two of plasma’s early boosters, Mr. Lebovits and Ms. Berrent, have also turned their attention to monoclonal antibodies. As he had done with plasma last spring, Mr. Lebovits helped increase acceptance of monoclonals in the Orthodox Jewish community, setting up an informational hotline, running ads in Orthodox newspapers, and creating rapid testing sites that doubled as infusion centers. Coordinating with federal officials, Mr. Lebovits has since shared his strategies with leaders in the Hispanic community in El Paso and San Diego. And Ms. Berrent has been working with a division of the insurer UnitedHealth to match the right patients — people with underlying health conditions or who are over 65 — to that treatment. “I’m a believer in plasma for a lot of substantive reasons, but if word came back tomorrow that jelly beans worked better, we’d be promoting jelly beans,” she said. “We are here to save lives.”’ Source link Orbem News #boom #Covid19 #learn #plasma

[drink-n-watch]

Hi Crow, how has your week been? Mine has been busy but generally all right. Did you read Karandi’s post on Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba? I think I’m generally more indulgent on anime but she brings up some fair points. It also made me realize that I may be approaching Demon Slayer from a slightly different angle than a lot of fans. And that angle is camp. When I was a kid The Lost Boys was one of my favourite movies, and it’s this same type of atmosphere and experience that I get from Demon Slayer.

Hi, Irina! Week’s been fine — insanely busy, but that’s par for the course! Yep, I read Karandi’s post, and I agree she brought up some fair points. I wouldn’t say we’re more indulgent in the approach we’ve taken. I’d say we’re so into the characters and the plot that the pieces that would other not work fade into the background.

So you see Demon Slayer as camp? I can see that. There are definitely times Tanjiro reminds me of Asta from Black Clover. Tanjiro has a little less of the over-the-topness I associate with camp, but the elements are there.

Oh, I’m bold this week — and you should watch out for spoilers!

why do I feel like I forgot something…

So far Demon Slayer has stuck to a tightly linear narrative. Each episode picks up the second the previous one ended, and sometimes a few seconds earlier for context. As such, we got thrown right back out on that crowded street with the unknown man turning into a demon while Kibutsuji was slowly walking away with his family. Were you as surprised as I was by how quick that transformation was?

Yes, I was. I started to wonder why he doesn’t just turn everyone into a demon. Then I realized he be creating competitors for his food supply, and he wouldn’t want to do that. That was a chilling scene…

Sort of makes you wonder what Nezuko’s transformation was like. Well, that’s a horrible thought.

let’s just not think about it

As I predicted the police did get called in but Tanjiro managed to stay out of trouble by being a kid and a little help from an unexpected source. Still, it was pretty lucky that Tanjiro didn’t get hauled off to jail, it’s not as if anyone could make bail for him and poor Nezuko would have been left all alone by the stand.

Yes, you did predict that! You aren’t reading the scripts in advance, are you? If you are, could you share? Tanjiro definitely needs to keep his responsibilities in mind. This city is a completely new world to him, and he’s not going to be able to recognize some forms of danger at all!

Hahaha … of course…what’s that over there?

you didn’t see nothing!

Both the freshly transformed demon man and his wounded wife got scooped up by a mysterious demon claiming to be a doctor, and her young companion. She has some hallucinogenic blood scent power that I didn’t quite get and that seemed a bit tacked on to me. Their appearance seemed a bit too convenient so I was suspicious. What did you think of Tamayo and Yushiro?

I don’t recall ever seeing a blood-based pheromone power before. Ants and other creatures use pheromones to communicate, even over distances, so I think that makes it plausible.

As for the coincidence of them happening to be there? Part of me wants to blame Karandi (jokingly, of course) for making us more sensitive to that kind of thing! Part of me wonders: Given what we learn about her motives later, was she shadowing Eviler Michael Jackson (err, Kibutsuiji)? If so, she’s awfully brave. That’s an astonishingly dangerous thing to do.

how am I supposed to feel about this? oh right: terrified!

This was just the opening scene folks. In the meantime, Kibutsuji just calmly walked away. I’m probably going to repeat this every episode but I really adore his voice and the delivery, as a matter of fact. I looked it up and he’s played by Toshihiko Seki. Unfortunately, I haven’t seen him in much except as Senketsu in Kill la Kill and I don’t remember the performance that well. Well, he’s certainly killing in here….Ha!

I see what you did there!

We have this almost instinctive tendency to equate a good father and husband with a good man. From the little, we see Kibutsuji is doting and caring to both his human wife and daughter. Careful to keep them out of danger and gentle. And yet he’s also the type of man who would brutally murder a group of drunk strangers over a stray word. He certainly does not like comments on his appearance.

Can we talk about his encounter with the drunks for a moment? When the drunk staggered into him and got irate, Kibutsuji tried to stay calm and even apologized! But the drunk pushed his luck, and the demon back-handed him so hard the impact against the wall killed him. He killed the other man, who turned out to be the dead man’s older brother, in an even more brutal way.

this is a reasonable reaction

But the poor girl? The way he killed her? I watched the episode a few hours ago, and I’m struggling to remember as brutal and horrific killing in any of the anime I’ve watched. Kibutsuji killed the first two out of anger. He was stone-cold when he killed the poor girl. For me, that was one of those “Welp, guess we’re not in Kansas anymore!”

Kibutsuji is one of the most dangerous types of evil characters: He can tightly control his emotions.

I think we may be staggering into the “unknowable” evil category. To him, killing is just an ordinary response and doing it so cruelly, simply a way to spice it up a bit. Like getting a breakfast sandwich instead of just a pastry for breakfast. But something triggered him.

I didn’t realize how present he was in the episode until I looked over my screencaps

Also, it seems that he has now decided to go after Tanjiro. Not directly, of course, but he sent a couple of hench demons. Is it just me or does Kibutsuji seem a bit flustered by Tanjrou’s presence? Why? From his perspective, he shouldn’t have much to fear…

Not from Tanjiro, maybe, but do you remember the flashback with the other demon hunter? The one with the same earrings as Tanjiro? Looks like his flash earrings are for more than just decoration!

I just thought that was the eyecatch….good thing you’re here.

Tanjirou goes back to pick up Nezuko and I am very glad to see they addressed the udon issue. Having families ripped apart, with loved ones brutally murdered is one thing, but wasting perfectly delicious looking udon….

I know, right? The poor stand owner was beside himself! I was very glad that Tanjiro ate two helpings. And both looked as good as the first!

yes, they did!

This is when the siblings meet up with Yushiro again who has come to lead them to Tamayo’s home and clinic(?). I really liked how Tanjirou just jumped to defend his sister’s pride! Well, Yushiro had no right disrespecting Nezujo. I mean, come on! Yushiro actually makes a pretty good foil for the rather one-note Tanjirou. I like their little frenemy dynamic and I think it brings out a much more fun aspect of our protagonist. What did you think?

Agreed. Though I’m still going to hold a grudge for how he spoke of Nezuko. <grumbling> “Eyesore?” What an idiot… </grumbling>

Crow wrote a scene for this episode

We finally get some good old exposition courtesy of Tamayo. It seems she, like just about every demon, was turned by Kibutsuji over two decades ago. In that time, she’s managed to modify her body to survive on nothing but small amounts of donated human blood. She also turned Yushiro into a demon to save his life but has never managed to turn anyone else. As a result, the boy is fanatical….let’s say “devoted” to her.

Tamayo is desperately trying to find a way to break the demon curse. Which is great news for Tanjiro. However, she needs to study a variety of demon blood to devise a cure, and that may be a bit tricky to come by. What do you think of this plan Crow?

I think we just saw a quest-type plot be born right before our eyes! Seriously, I think it’s a great way to focus on his journey. Not sure how it’ll interact with the missions delivered by his Kasugai Crow. And if his mission in Tokyo was to destroy Kibutsuji, then I don’t see how he’s going to succeed. Still, I think it’s a mutually beneficial arrangement.

And do you have any idea why Tanjiro didn’t jump all over the idea of modifying Nezuko’s body so she wouldn’t be tempted to kill humans? To make her more like Tamayo? I think he should jump at the chance to let her speak again, at least!

Or am I missing something?

no, nothing

You know, the more demons we see, the more I realize there’s no reason for Nezuko to not be able to speak. She can easily take that bite out of her mouth just when she needs to say something.

When Tamayo mentioned that “something” must have happened to her during the to years she was hibernating, I couldn’t help but worry that it was brain damage. That’s why she’s acting like a child or small animal when she was a perfectly coherent girl before.

That’d be terrible, wouldn’t it? Something’s going on, because the way she reacted to Tanjiro stroking her cheek was adorable — but it bordered on puppy or kitten-type adorable. It wasn’t the reaction of a human sister. And the way she just laid on the floor with her legs in the air? I don’t think a young lady like Nezuko would do that. And the writers are too good for that to be an accident. Something’s up.

undeniably adorable

This scene also solidified the analogy between demons and vampires. We seem to be mixing and matching monster traits for an ultimate nightmare. I’m not against it.

The Lost Boys meet The Howling? Or maybe The Werewolf of London?

This episode was relatively calm, with none of the signature high action scenes demon slayer has been mesmerizing us with. Of course, that is all going to change next episode, as in the final moments, Kibutsuji’s lackeys find them all at Tamayo’s place and get ready to exterminate some earring wearing slayers.

We finally get a good look at these two and once again, I’m diggin’ the design. The garish shock of colours and blunt lines really works well to create unnerving yet very unusual looking bad guys. Did you like their first appearance?

The girl reminded me of Claire from Claymore — in a good way. They looked evil, and they looked like the enjoyed being evil. The tension of expectations between the pretty bouncy balls and their devastating impact on the house (and presumably on anyone they hit) was another nice touch!

I really like the colourful bouncy ball

Last thoughts? Predictions? Fears…..

My fear is that our guess about Nezujo’s mental state is correct. That would be an interesting for the plot, but yet another cruel stroke of fate for Nezuko!

Well, this is grim but there’s hope. Tanjiro finally has some powerful allies by his side and even a chance at a cure. That is if he can survive the next episode.

Want to read our past reviews?

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 01: Cruelty

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 02: Crow will Protect Me

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 03: Sabito and Makomo

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 04: Final Selection

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 05: My Own Steel

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 06: A Friend fo All Humans

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 7 – Not A Boy’s Hands And The Happy Family

that’s not how it’s spelled…

As usul I took a completely unreasonable amount of screenshots an I’ll share a few here. I’ve decided to upload them all to imgur because I think it will be easier for you guys to see the higher quality images there. If you are interested the gallery is HERE.

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba Episode 8 – Vindictively of course Hi Crow, how has your week been? Mine has been busy but generally all right. Did you read…