#probably an element of it is just reckless abandon

[microwaving-tesilid-argente]

comparing tesilid and reed's attitudes to ailette is so funny.

117th is like "you must be human to stay by side". being a little cagey and assessing if she's trustworthy.

then you have reed who has only talked to her three times, 2 of which was him initiating the convo, and he's going all "why are you with that thing and not me!!!" and "if you looked at that bug at all i would've killed it". like girl keep it together !!

[magiccath]

A Mind Full of Blissful Terrors

tenth doctor x GN!reader

Summary: In which the Doctor and reader investigate a strange spaceship

CW: horror elements, body gore, and one singular f-bomb

Word count: 7.4k

A/N: many, many drafts, and too many months later, I have finally finished this one. I really hope you guys like it.

You bounced into the TARDIS control room, more than excited for your next adventure with the Doctor. He could take you to a grocery store and you would probably enjoy it. 

“Where to today?” You asked with a smile. 

“I was thinking someplace relaxing, we’ve been running for the past couple of days,” the Doctor suggested, looking at you for approval. 

“Yes please!” you groaned, tilting your head back. 

The Doctor smiled to himself, pleased at his own ability to know when you needed a break. 

“Maybe we could head to Italy for some of that pasta you love?” he suggested, leaning back against the console. 

“I would love some pasta!” you cheered, moving over to him. The Doctor smiled at you, the kind of smile that overtook his face. The corners of his eyes crinkled and his eyebrows angled slightly upwards. 

“Allons-y!” He cheered, turning back towards the console. He started messing with it, flipping switches and pressing buttons. He did it all too fast for you to make sense of it. He was about ready to lift off when it started.

The TARDIS was beeping. The kind of sound a car makes when you forget to put your seatbelt on. The only issue was, the TARDIS doesn’t have seatbelts. You didn’t know the ship as well as he did, but you did know it wasn’t a normal sound. 

You looked about in confusion before shouting his name over the incessant noise. 

He looked back at you, just as confused as you were. That didn’t bode well with you.

The ship lurched forward aggressively, sending you tumbling across the room. You crashed into the railing, the impact making you wince. The Doctor stumbled too, tripping over himself in the process and crashing to the floor. 

“What happened to Italy?” You yelled, frustrated. You had flown to Italy before, and it was never this bumpy. 

“It’s not me!” The Doctor protested, getting up from the floor where he had landed. The ship rocked again, almost sending him back down. 

“Can you stop it?” 

“I’m not quite sure,” he grumbled, rushing about pressing buttons and pulling levers, all the while trying not to fall again. Unfortunately for him, centuries of experience meant little when your ship had a mind of its own. 

You gripped the railing for dear life, squeezing your eyes shut in hopes it would just stop.

“It’s a distress signal,” he explained after a while, squinting at the screen in front of him. 

“What?” You opened your eyes. It didn’t sound like a distress signal to you.

“Someone has patched through a distress signal, there’s nothing I can do about it,” he said, clutching the computer screen in front of him. 

You let out an exasperated sigh, letting go of the railing. This wasn’t entirely unusual. The TARDIS had a habit of hijacking your trips and taking you places you didn’t really want to be. It was no surprise that your vacation was being postponed by some “distress call.”

The ship landed with its signature thump, the impact sending you stumbling again, this time into the console. You quickly regained your balance, running your hands through your hair anxiously.

You could be anywhere just about now, and the thought made you slightly uneasy. The Doctor, on the other hand, seemed more than excited for the adventure at hand. He rushed to the door, eagerly throwing them open with reckless abandon. Warily, you followed him. 

You didn’t know what to expect, but this certainly wasn’t it. 

Before you was a seemingly endless hallway. There were no windows, only large expanses of steel paneled walls. There was an incessant beeping in the distance, but you couldn’t pinpoint the sound. It was hard to see too far in front of you, the hallway was completely dark. 

The Doctor rummaged around in his coat pocket, pulling out his sonic screwdriver and a small flashlight. He handed the latter to you and started off down the hall without explanation. You had no choice but to switch the light on and run after him. 

He walked around with curiosity, his eyebrows furrowed. You walked slowly behind him taking in the ominous surroundings. He led the way with his screwdriver, scanning just about everything. He stopped every down and then to frown at the readings.

The beam of your flashlight was small, leaving you mostly in the dark. From what you could see, the hallway was a mess. Rubbish lined the floor; empty food packets, ripped fabric, and various pieces of plastic and metal. You were sure you saw a few bones, but you scuttled away anxiously before continuing.

Distracted from your own surveillance, you walked straight into the Doctor’s back. 

“Sorry,” you winced. He shook his head, unbothered by the disturbance. 

“It doesn't make sense,” he mumbled to himself, continuing down the hallway. He didn’t say it with his usual childish enthusiasm, rather, he seemed to be harboring thinly veiled anxiety.

You sulked after him, the floors creaking incessantly underneath your feet. 

You continued to scan your surroundings. The ceiling was lined with large vents, a few of which were damaged. You didn’t get a solid look, but the hissing coming from them led you to believe they were air vents. Perhaps you were on a space base? Or, a ship?

“Doctor?” you whispered, an unease spreading through you. You couldn’t explain it, but something felt off.

“This way,” he instructed, tilting his head away from the noise. He could get like this. Distracted. In the moment, whatever danger lurked around the corner was paramount to everything else. 

An uneasy feeling that you were being followed crept up on you. You picked up your pace, practically running to catch up with the Doctor. Every now and then you would cast your gaze backward, nervously searching for the presence you sensed. You could have sworn you were seeing shadows, looming forms that sulked after you. It was likely just your brain playing tricks on you, right?

You still used your light to survey the hallways behind the Doctor. For the most part, you were just encountering various forms of rubbish. That was until you stumbled across a body. You gasped, jumping back from it. Your shoes left bloody tracks from the puddles of blood surrounding the corpse.

“What is it?” The Doctor asked worriedly, by your side in an instant. You pointed at the body in front of you, your eyes unable to move away from it. 

The sight was far from pretty. The person was a member of the ship’s crew, their work suit featuring a name patch and company logo. The Doctor moved closer, examining the branding. You scanned the name tag, unsure if knowing the identity of the deceased would make it better or worse. As much as you didn’t want to look at their face, it was hard not to. It was entirely blown open, the skull in cracked fragments from the damage. The flesh on the right side of the face peeled back, blooming like a fungus. On the other side, an eyeball hung from its socket, the optic nerve stopping it from falling to the ground. 

It was the kind of grotesque death that stuck with you, that popped up in your nightmares for months after seeing it. 

“There's not anything we can do for him,” The Doctor said, his voice close to your ear. You jumped, unaware that he had moved back to your side. You shook your head, forcing yourself to look away from the dead body. 

The Doctor offered his hand to you solemnly. You took it, clutching onto it like a tether. Maybe if you squeezed his hand tight enough you could forget that there was a dead body a few meters away from you. 

You stopped looking closely at the ship after that, focusing mostly on what was directly in front of you. If you investigated, you might risk finding more horrors. The Doctor didn’t seem any more comfortable than you, but he continued his scanning and searching of the hallways. 

As you reached the end of a corridor, you stopped with a sudden gasp. The Doctor whipped his head around, terrified that you had found something gruesome again. He relaxed when he saw where your eyes were trained. 

Before you stood a beautiful expanse of space, planets, and stars floating all around. A messy watercolor of shapes and colors, all colliding to create a perfect masterpiece. You had seen some of the masters at work, even posed for a painting with Leonardo Da Vinci. The most famous paintings didn’t compare to the sight in front of you. It was stunning. No, it was more than that.

“Wow,” you breathed, marveling at the sight before you. You could see a hundred galaxies and still find them mesmerizing. You shook your head, snapping yourself out of it. 

“Spaceship then?” you deduced, looking back at the Doctor. He nodded, his eyes already trained on you. A sky full of stars, and he was looking at you. 

“Suppose we should figure out where the crew is?” you suggested, trying to be of help.

“Right,” He said, his smile fading. “Where is the crew? A ship has got to have a crew, doesn't it?” 

You nodded solemnly as you followed him. Even if he didn't seem too keen on it, he was still going to investigate. 

He mumbled to himself as he walked, trying to work it all out in his head. He did this a lot, it was his way of thinking. Sometimes, he expected you to listen, but most of the time he was just lost in his own world. 

You approached an intersection and cleared your throat, pulling his attention back to you.

To the right was a hallway like all of the ones you had walked down before. Dark, ominous, and probably housing more dead bodies. You didn’t really want to investigate and find out.

To the left was a similarly eerie hallway, but you could make out a flashing red light at the end of it. The beeping alarm appeared to be coming from that direction as well. You pointed in that direction, surmising that you should go in that direction. 

“Oh, yes, we should probably go that way,” he agreed, but he didn’t move. 

“Doctor?” You asked, looking at him with concern. You offered your hand, trying to replicate the sense of comfort and unity that he had provided for you earlier. 

He smiled, still not his usual happy smile, and took your hand gently. He didn’t squeeze like you did, but you knew he still viewed the hand-holding as a tether. 

“Dark, scary, abandoned spaceship that makes weird noises,” the Doctor recapped as the two of you moved down the hallway. 

“What could go wrong?” you winced. 

The Doctor grimaced, “Don’t say that.” 

A thick, steel door loomed in front of you, bright red lights flashing from the other side. You weren’t quite sure if you were prepared for what lay beyond it. 

Without hesitation, the Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver to unlock the door. It looked like he was sticking to his usual MO: act first, think later. 

Hesitantly, you slipped in the door after him. You couldn’t say that you shared the same carefree demeanor as the Time Lord.

The first thing you noticed was the windows. The front of the room was covered with thick glass. The view was still beautiful, but you weren’t looking at it. At the moment you had more pressing matters, like the spider web-like fractures that sprinkled the surface of the glass. You tried not to dwell too much on the implications that might have.

Your eyes focused on the rest of the room, darting around to look at all of the damage. Taking in the technological panels around the room, you inferred that you were currently in the central control room of the ship.  

Wires poked out of their metal containers, a few of them shooting sparks into the air around them. Something had clearly made its way through the room, tearing up anything it could find in the process. The disheveled state of your surroundings did little to quell your anxieties. 

On top of it all, the alarms on the ship were more than overwhelming. The flashing lights were blinding, a deafening alarm heightening the pain in your head. 

You moved slowly into the room, your eyes still scanning everything. The Doctor wasn’t as observant as you, shuffling through the mess of wires in a desperate frenzy. He was anxious, and that didn’t help your own anxieties. 

Behind one of the main control panels lay another dead body, this one fully decapitated. You didn’t want to actively look for the head. Whatever had happened, you were too late to do anything about it, you knew that much. That kind of damage just wasn’t something that you could fix.

The Doctor mulled about the nearby screens, trying to get them to turn on. After some brute force accompanied by the sonic, he managed to get the system to boot up. He started by turning off the alarms, a service you were more than grateful for. 

“There’s security footage…” The Doctor mumbled, moving closer to the screen in front of him. He mumbled a few more things, but you didn’t listen. He was probably just talking to himself again. 

You moved about gingerly, taking in the entirety of the room. You examined the damaged control panels while the Doctor continued his fiddling with the working screens. 

Absentmindedly, you picked up an empty box. You dropped it almost immediately, terrified by what was directly behind it.  

In front of you laid a fragment of skull, gooey bits of brain seeping out of it. A singular, unfocused eye stared back at you relentlessly from its socket. 

You looked down at your hand in horror, noticing the small amount of blood from when you handled the box. The sight left you gasping for air, your hand shaking uncontrollably. 

“Doctor,” you cried. You wanted to turn away, wanted to forget the image of it. It was like a car crash, so terrible that you wanted to look away but you just couldn’t. 

You stumbled backward, tripping on another skull fragment. Your foot landed directly on it, sending a painfully loud crack through the room. You gasped in horror, lifting your foot gingerly. The damage from your shoe cracked the damaged bone further, creating a mess of small bone fragments, blood, and what you presumed was the deceased’s brain. The sight was so painfully unnatural, you felt your stomach muscles contracting in fear. You were terrified you might throw up.

“Doctor,” you cried again, feeling tears prick the back of your eyes. 

He ignored you, something he often did when he was in the zone. It wasn’t personal, he just tended to hyperfocus.

You repeated his name, urgency forcing its way into your voice. 

“There’s nothing we can do,” he said, looking over at you sadly. He really wished there was something he could do. If he had the ability, he would save everyone that ever existed. Unfortunately, it didn’t work that way.

You choked back a sob, eyes still not wanting to look away from the carnage in front of you or the gore on your hands. You knew there was nothing that could be done about the gruesome scene, but that didn’t make it any less scary. In all reality, who would feel comfortable in a room of dismembered body parts? 

The Doctor whispered your name, placing a hand on your arm gently, “Look at me.” 

You shook your head, terrified. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t look away. Your vision was blurring, distorting the bloody mess of your hand.

“Look at me!” he snapped, grasping your shoulders and effectively pulling you back to reality. The volume of his voice scared you, but you could tell from the tone he was doing it out of love. 

“We need to get to the TARDIS. Now,” He urged. His face was clouded and sad, neither of which eased your fear.

He tried to hold your gaze, tried to get you to look away from the horrors in front of you. He hated that he couldn’t protect you from this. 

“There is something on this ship, something dangerous,” he explained. “It’s probably still here, and we need to leave. Now.”

You blinked, fighting back tears. You didn’t want to be scared. You wanted to be useful and brave. You wanted to be someone the Doctor could admire, someone he could love. Standing in fear, on the verge of tears, was hardly something he found attractive. 

A distinctly alien clicking came from the other side of the room, sending the Doctor rigid. You stared up at him, your eyes practically bulging out of your head. He swallowed harshly, his throat bobbing aggressively. Slowly, he tilted his head in the direction of the door. 

“Slowly. Quietly.” He mouthed. You nodded and followed his lead, sneaking as carefully as you could to the door. 

You didn’t dare take your eyes off of him. You didn’t want to risk laying eyes on whatever else was in the room. If your attention remained on his face, it was almost as if everything was fine. Almost as if you were somewhere safe and comfortable. 

You let the Doctor lead you to the door, his hands placed firmly on your waist. His touch served as an anchor, keeping you tied to reality. 

You were almost halfway to the exit when it hit him. He’d left his sonic screwdriver on the main control panel. 

You saw the panic flash across his face. As much as he tried to hide it from you, you always notice when he’s upset. 

“The sonic,” he mouthed. 

You nodded slowly, letting him know it was okay to let go. You knew how important the sonic was, you’d need it sooner rather than later. 

He was hesitant. The Doctor didn’t like leaving you when it was safe - he dreaded leaving you when it was dangerous.

You nodded again, hoping that your eyes did the talking for you. The two of you weren’t getting too far without the sonic, especially not on a strange spaceship with some monster alien on it. He had to go back, even if that meant leaving you. 

Reluctantly, he started to slowly back away from you. He kept his eyes trained on you for as long as he could before he had to turn away to look where he was going. He moved as quietly as he could, taking extra care to not draw attention to himself. 

Eventually, he made his way back to the console and grabbed the sonic. In the process, he managed to fumble it a bit. He froze, holding his breath in the hope that he hadn’t just revealed your location. The room was silent for a few seconds, long enough for him to think the course was clear. He let out his breath, relieved. 

The clicking resumed from the corner of the room, now closer to you than to him. You saw the recognition flash across the Doctor’s face. You started to turn towards the noise but the Doctor shook his head. You froze, not daring to move. 

You heard the windows crack further, the sound of glass breaking unnaturally loud in the silent room. The shattering made your stomach drop, your breathing labored and tense.  

“Run!” The Doctor shouted, already making his way out of the room. You were on opposite ends of the room, it made no sense for either of you to wait for the other. 

Even still, it took a second for the Doctor’s words to register. Once they did, you set off running. 

You had to get as far away as you could. The blood rushing in your ears was enough to dull the sounds around you. The only thing that mattered was getting out. 

You could hear the monster moving and hissing behind you, the sound growing closer and closer. You looked behind you, panic coursing through your body. You couldn’t see anything, and you didn’t dare stop to get a good look. You could hear thumping in the vents, maybe that’s how the alien was getting around. You stopped running, turning your attention to the vents above you. Sure enough, that was the origin of the noise. The hissing was getting louder, the proximity of danger sending you into a frenzy. 

You didn’t know what to do. You were on a strange spaceship in the middle of nowhere with a potentially deadly alien coming after you. Even worse, you were separated from the Doctor. 

You turned around in circles, raking your brain for a way out of this. The more you thought about it, the more panic you felt. It was times like this that you wished your body went into fight mode rather than flight. Maybe then you could be useful. 

You hardly had time to react before the alien had dropped down from the vents and onto you. You let out a shout before it grabbed you, the force of it knocking you out. 

-

You woke up in your bed, your head feeling heavy and groggy. The memories came back to you slowly, the ship, the alien, the dead bodies. You shuddered, looking around the room anxiously. Your eyes landed on the Doctor and you let out a sigh. 

“You’re awake,” he smiled brightly. 

You smiled back at him, feeling a warmth spread across your body. 

He moved over to you, gathering you in a tight hug. You buried your nose in his neck, inhaling his signature scent. The calming mix of linen, peppermint, and strong tea. The smell was familiar and comforting, a welcome sensation after the anxiety you had just endured.

“I was terrified, I thought I lost you and t-that thing,” you choked, stumbling over your words. It didn’t really matter, you were with the Doctor now. The steady thumping of his duel hearts provided a baseline that calmed your frantic breathing, effectively quenching your panic.

You finally pulled away from the Doctor enough to look at him. Oftentimes, you found you could learn more from the Time Lord’s eyes than his words. 

“Are you ok?” he asked, his eyes riddled with worry. 

“I’m ok,” you shook your head, “I’m ok now.” 

You really were. It was silly to think that the Doctor could fix everything, but he sure could fix a lot of things. You felt safe with him, especially when he had saved you from random spaceships and homicidal aliens.  

“Thank you for getting me out of there,” you smiled. He hugged you again, and you relished in the comfort. You could stay like this forever, wrapped up in his arms.

The next thing he did shocked you. The Doctor kissed you. 

He held your face like it was his entire world and placed his lips against yours gently. You melted into the kiss, tangling your hands in his shirt. 

You felt tears slide down your face - from relief, from joy, and just pure pleasure. Kissing the Doctor was everything that you had ever wanted and more. 

He kissed you like you were his everything, like he couldn’t get enough of you. When he pulled away he looked into your eyes adoringly, a smile creeping across his face. 

He kissed the top of your head, the feeling comforting and familiar. 

“Stay with me?” you asked, holding onto him.

“Always,” he whispered into your hair.

-

The Doctor couldn’t find you, and he was starting to worry. 

You both had seen what the alien did to people firsthand. He didn’t want you to become its next victim. It could take your mind, and even worse, it could kill you.

A race he had previously believed to be extinct that possessed the power to show you your deepest desires. Lost in self-indulgence, the creature could feed off of your energy until you were drained. The sheer force of it usually caused your head to explode. The corpse with the blown-up face in the hallway should have clued him in. He ridiculed himself for not figuring it out sooner. 

Not knowing where you were or if you were still alive was sending the Doctor into a spiral. 

He ran through the endless halls, desperately searching for you. He couldn’t hear the alien moving around, and the silence was deafening. He didn’t know if it was on the other side of the ship, well away from you, or if it was busy feasting off of your brain. 

As he turned the corner, his fears became a reality. 

You were sprawled out on the floor, your shallow breathing the only sign of life coming from you. The alien clung to you, the contact enough to establish a psychic link. 

He had to be smart about this if he wanted to keep you alive. He needed to get the alien off of you as quickly as possible and pull you out of the dream-induced state before your mind turned into mush, or worse.

He flattened his back against the wall, his breath coming out in short pants. His mind raced, scenarios playing out one after another like a series of movies. He couldn’t mess up, not if he wanted to make it out of this in one piece. Not if he wanted to save you.

He peered around the corner, looking warily in your direction. The alien only had the capacity for one victim at a time. Considering it was latched onto you, he was mostly safe. That was unless there were multiple on the ship. 

He decided it was a risk worth taking and rushed to your side. He picked up your hand, holding it gently. You were breathing, but just barely. He needed to move fast. He said your name a few times, hoping it might rouse you, even if he knew it wouldn’t. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, allowing his fingers to travel towards your head. He hated invading your mind like this, especially without your permission. It was a direct violation, but he couldn’t think of much else to do. 

He didn’t know what he had expected to see, but images of your lips on his were certainly not on the list. He dropped the connection instantly, scampering away from your limp body. 

He shook his head. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. The alien had gotten in his head. That was the only explanation. 

He held his head in his hands, trying to get rid of the residual images of the two of you. He didn’t want to think about it too much. If he did, he might find himself falling deeper into the rabbit hole. He feared it was just the alien showing his own desires. 

“It’s just a dream,” he whispered to himself, trying to get ahold. It wasn’t real. It was just what he wanted to see.

Once he had settled his mind enough, he focused on establishing a physic block. He wasn’t going to get anywhere with saving you if he was fighting the alien himself.

-

You were happy and safe in the Doctor’s arms. He was holding you against his chest, and you could hear the steady beating of his hearts. The sound was comforting and familiar. 

You couldn’t think of a single place you would rather be. The Doctor felt like home to you.

He traced circular patterns onto your back. You were sure it was circular Gallifreyan, but you were too blissful to focus on it. 

Your peace was violently ruined as you jerked up in pain. Your head was suddenly filled with screaming. The pain shot through your head, causing you to pull away from the Doctor. 

You could see the concern on his face, could see his lips moving. He was probably asking if you were okay, but you couldn’t hear it. All you could hear was the noise. 

You collapsed to the floor, squeezing your eyes shut. Panic rushed through you, pushing tears from your eyes. You felt like you were dying. Maybe you were. 

You curled into a ball, clutching your head desperately. You gripped and pulled at your hair, anything to try and end this pain. It wouldn’t go away, no matter what you did. 

You screamed, the sound gruesome and raw. You didn’t know what else to do. 

After what seemed like hours, the noise grew to a painful crescendo that drowned out even your own voice. 

As suddenly as it all started, the noise ended. The change was shocking, enough to leave you extremely light-headed. The shift from everything to nothing was more torturous than relieving. 

You sprang upright, a gasp falling from your lips. 

Your eyes darted across the room anxiously. You were back in the TARDIS, but you couldn’t remember getting there. Next to you was the shriveled corpse of some alien. You gasped and shoved yourself away from it, fear coursing through your body.

“It’s ok,” the Doctor said, holding his hand out, “you’re ok.” 

“What the fuck just happened?” You gasped, leaning away from him too. Your eyes continued darting around the room in fear. You couldn’t remember much, just running from the monstrous hissing and clicking in the vents. You figured the dead thing next to you had been chasing you, but you couldn’t remember the Doctor being there with you.

“Take a deep breath,” the Doctor urged. 

You shook your head and repeated your question, “What just happened?” with a pant. 

“That alien,” he gestured to the corpse, “had you in a trance, I helped pull you out of it,” he explained, calmly. He was looking into your eyes with worry. 

“A what?” You asked, shaking your head again. It didn’t make sense. None of it made sense. 

“The alien on this ship,” he explained. You cut him off with a gasp, the horrors of the control room rushing back to you. The box, the bodies, the blood. You looked down at yourself with fear, half expecting yourself to be maimed. 

“It’s ok,” he urged again, “I got rid of it, you’re safe.” 

You shook your head, hoping it would all go away. 

“It’s gone.” 

You looked up at him with tears in your eyes. 

“It’s over.” 

A tear slid down your face. You still didn’t know why you were crying. Relief? Fear? Happiness? 

The Doctor let you, he knew it was a lot. You had almost died after all. He moved over to you, offering a hand so you could stand up. You let him pull you upright until you were standing. 

“Is there anything I can do?” He asked, brushing your tears away gently. He was so gentle with you, even in your dreams. 

“A hug would be good,” you stuttered. The Doctor didn’t waste any time pulling you into his arms. He held you tightly, like he was afraid that you would slip out of his grip. 

Your face came to rest in the crook of his neck, the feeling and smell all too familiar. The tears came faster then, harder too. You couldn’t hold them back. 

The Doctor pulled away, looking at you with concern, “what’s wrong?”

“Why couldn’t it have been real?” you sobbed, fairly certain you were incoherent like this, “why can’t you love me?” 

You wanted to take it back the minute that you said it. Once you saw the words register with the Doctor you knew it was all over. 

You wiped your tears hurriedly, stepping back from him. 

“You don’t have to answer that - I don't know why I said that,” you laughed, even though you didn’t find it funny. You were embarrassed that you had shown your cards like that. Embarrassed that you had let the Doctor know how you really felt about him. But even more, you were mad at yourself for asking such a selfish question. For wanting something simply because it felt good to you. 

“But I do,” the Doctor whispered back, confused. How could you not see that?

“Yeah, as a friend,” you said, more to the floor than to his face. You were fiddling, moving farther and farther away from him. He felt like you were drifting away, and he wanted you to come back. 

“No,” he shook his head vigorously, his floppy hair flying across his forehead. 

“It’s ok,” you mumbled, the back of your legs hitting the TARDIS console. There was nowhere else for you to back up. 

“No, really. I cannot tell you how much I care for you,” he said, he desperately wanted to reach out to you. He didn’t know how to prove this to you, to show you just how much he truly loved you. He wasn’t good at being emotionally vulnerable, that much he knew. But that didn’t change the way he felt about you.

You shook your head again. “It’s not real”. You were dreaming again, you had to be. That was the only sensible explanation for all of this.

“It is,” the Doctor pleaded. He hated that this was happening, hated seeing you in pain. 

“I can show you,” he suggested, holding out his hands. He didn’t have the words to prove it to you, but he had the memories.

“I can develop a telepathic link, I can let you into my mind. I can’t lie to you in there,” he offered. You frowned at his outstretched hands, your brain still processing his words.

“You can say no,” he added, “after what happened today I wouldn’t blame you.” 

You thought about it for a moment. You really wanted to believe the Doctor, so you nodded. 

The Doctor moved towards you gently, still giving you plenty of chances to recoil from his touch. His fingers landed feather light against your temple. His eyes fluttered closed, and you followed suit. 

It was like being pulled through space. There was no warning or preparation, just a sudden feeling of vertigo crashing in on you. 

Before you knew it you were inside the Time Lord’s mind. It felt like literally walking around his brain, digging in the creases that he never let anyone see. It wasn’t the kind of experience that you could explain to someone, even if you had wanted to. 

For the first time, you saw what you looked like from his eyes. Images of your smile flashed in front of you, the speed of it making your eyes hurt. It was weird to see yourself like this - from someone else's point of view. It was like looking at someone else entirely. 

You had only ever seen yourself in a mirror, or pictures. Your face seemed backward to you, and it took a second for it to register that it was. So this is how people see me? You thought, looking at yourself with a newfound sense of scrutiny. 

You didn’t get to dwindle on it for too long before the memories started playing. It was like a mental backlog of home videos, and you wondered how the doctor could remember this much of you. Surely he had more important things in his brain than you? 

It started in the early days, back when he had first met you. You couldn’t help but notice how young you looked. 

“I have room for one more,” the Doctor had offered, leaning against his mysterious blue box casually.

“I don’t know,” you had said, tilting your head, “that ship looks a little small.”

The Doctor grinned at you and opened the door, beckoning you inside. This was always his favorite part.

“It’s… smaller on the outside,” you gasped. The Doctor looked at you shocked, no one had ever said that to him before. The typical response was somewhere along the lines of “It’s bigger on the inside!” followed by complete shock at the defiance of the laws of space. Instead, you looked at the ship with unmistakable wonder, adoration, and curiosity. Your hands danced across the cool metal of the ship, fascinated by everything around you. You had the wonder and inquisitiveness of a child, fascinated by even the simplest of things around you. 

“It’s beautiful,” you smiled at the Doctor, the grin taking over your whole face. The Doctor couldn’t help but be amazed at you, at the wonder you had for the world around you. It was beautiful, and he couldn’t look away.

The scene faded, a new one taking its place.

In the new memory, you ran into the TARDIS control room, a giant smile plastered on your face. This memory was later, you could tell not only by your face but by the clear comfort you had with the ship. By now, you were more than comfortable calling it home.

“Doctor!” you laughed, plopping down next to him happily.

“Yes?” The Doctor asked, and you could hear the smile in his voice. 

“Guess what I found?” you asked, an eyebrow quirking upwards. You remembered this day. You had spent hours trying to figure out the organizational system in the TARDIS library. You eventually figured out that there wasn’t really one and gave up. However, in the process, you stumbled across a book. 

In the Doctor’s memory, you held up a dusty book ceremoniously. 

“A book?” he asked with a laugh. 

You shook your head, your smile unfaltering. 

“It’s your favorite book,” you laughed, shoving the book into the Doctor’s chest. 

“How do you know that?” He asked, thumbing the pages fondly. 

“You told me once,” you shrugged, a scarlet flush creeping across your face. 

“I did?” He asked, setting the book off to the side. 

“When you took me to see Jane Austen,” you explained, leaning against the console comfortably. 

“I asked what your favorite book was, and you told me it was this one,” you put your hand on top of the old hardback, fingers brushing across the worn cover. In your memory, you had been looking at the book, too scared to meet the Doctor’s eye. From his perspective, the focus was on your face. The slight smile that tugged at your lips, the way that your hair fell into your face. There was no mistaking the way that the Doctor looked at you at that moment. You had seen it a hundred times on television. You felt a heat flush to your cheeks. Not in the memory, but in the current moment. 

The Doctor’s memory moved on, the moment fleeting. 

In this scene, he was hunched over the TARDIS console. He hung his head in a way that conveyed distress, his spiky hair falling over cloudy eyes.

“You alright?” you asked, placing your hand on his shoulder gently. 

He looked over at you, almost surprised to see you. 

The Time Lord’s eyes were always so expressive, and you didn’t like what you saw in them. You couldn’t recall a time you had ever seen them this sad. There was a darkness in them, the kind that worried you. 

“I’m always alright,” he said tightly, forcing a sad smile. 

“No, no you’re not,” you said, tracing your hand down his arm. You let your fingers interlace with his, and his eyes trained themselves on the connection. 

“Why do you stay with me?” He choked, clearly fighting tears.

You frowned, confused by the question. “Why wouldn’t I?” 

“The things I’ve done…” he trailed off, lost in his own dark thoughts, “They’re unforgivable.” 

“You’re not your past,” you assured, rubbing calming circles on the back of his hand with your thumb. 

“I keep doing them. Horrible things,” he shook his head. “I’m a monster.” 

“Don’t say that,” you ridiculed. He laughed sadly, turning away from you. 

“Hey.” you guided his face back in your direction gently, your touch comforting. “You are a good man.” Your eyes darted between his, taking in anguish laden in them. 

“You’re the Doctor,” you stated with a laugh. Your hands traveled down to his chest, resting over his hearts. They thumped a steady rhythm, the beat comforting and familiar to you.

“You have the biggest hearts of anyone I know,” you said, still holding his eye. Your hands moved back up to his face, holding it gently. He closed his eyes, a single tear rolling down his freckled cheek. Your thumb swiped it away without a second thought. 

“You are so good,” you reassured. 

“I don’t deserve you,” he cried, the tears more frequent now.

“Well, you’re stuck with me,” you chuckled, the slight humor of it bringing a small smile to his face.

“Seriously,” you added. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms, hugging you tightly. 

“Thank you,” he whispered into your hair.

The scene melted away again, a new one taking its place.

“It’s your name,” the Doctor explained as you thumbed a pendant. It was small, hardly bigger than a coin. Engraved on the surface was a series of intertwining circles, a pattern you easily recognized as circular Galliyfreyan. 

“How did you?” You asked, your sentence trailing off as you looked up at him in wonder. 

“I had it specially made,” he shrugged like it meant nothing. 

“It’s beautiful,” you breathed, looking down at the necklace in adoration. There was a twinkle in your eyes that you had never picked up on before. 

“Can you put it on for me?” You asked holding the necklace out to the Doctor. He nodded meekly, taking the chain from your hands. 

His hands lingered on your skin as he fastened the chain around your neck. You could feel the electricity in his touch, the way that he didn't want to let go. 

You turned around with a smile on your face, your hand ghosting around the pendant. 

“How do I look?” You asked.

The Doctor smiled to himself, taking the moment to memorize your face. The distinct lines of your expression, the shine in your eyes, the joy on your face. All of it was captivating. You were captivating. 

“Beautiful,” he whispered, and he meant it. 

The scene moved on. You weren’t in the next one, the area unfamiliar to you. 

The Doctor was sitting in the console room, his head bowed. Donna stood above him, her arms crossed. The sight of the redhead made you sad, you missed her. You missed your best friend. 

“You’re acting like I don’t already know this?” She laughed, the sound painstakingly familiar. 

The Doctor looked up at her like a wounded puppy. 

“I’ve seen the way you look at them,” she continued, “like they’re the only person in the whole wide world that matters.” 

“That’s dramatic,” the Doctor groaned. 

“It’s true,” she glared at him. He didn’t argue. 

“Are you going to tell them?” She asked, her gaze softening. 

The Doctor shook his head, “I can’t.” 

“Why?” Donna glared. 

“Have you ever heard the saying ‘Is it better to have had a good thing and lost it than to have never had it?’?” He asked her, pain in his eyes. 

“That feels contradictory.” 

“I mean, I would rather have them as I do than not have them at all,” he explained. Donna sighed and sat next to him, looking at him sympathetically. 

“I don't think I could live without them,” he sighed, burying his head in his hands. 

The scene faded, and you were left with the Doctor’s face looking at you worriedly. You hadn’t realized you were crying until he wiped the tears from your face. 

“Are you ok?” He asked, eyebrows furrowed with concern. He hadn’t wanted to upset you further. That was the opposite of his intentions.

You smiled at him. You weren't crying from sadness, or even anxiety like before. No, these were happy tears. Happy that it was real, that the Doctor really loved you. It was everything you had ever wanted.

You threw your arms around the doctor, holding tightly onto him. 

“I love you,” you whispered into his ear. You felt it was about time you said it. 

“I love you too,” the Doctor sighed like it was a breath he had been holding in. 

“So, so much,” he shook his head, wrapping his arms around your waist. He lifted you off the ground ceremoniously, swinging you back and forth gently. 

You laughed lightly, pulling back to look at his face. 

“Say it again,” you smiled, relishing in the feeling of his words.

“I love you,” he smiled back, and you knew he meant it. 

[anotherferalrat]

YOU COWARDSSSS

YOU FOOOLSSSSSS

Inazuma Archon quest thought to give us Vision angst where you become a completely different person once you're apart from it for too long...

AND NONE OF YOU KAELUC/LUCKAE/WHATEVER MFS(/AFF) HAVE TAKEN ADVANTAGE OF THAT??? Once again, notice the /aff tag, i am one of the aforementioned kaeluc/whatever mfs

THE INAZUMANS IN THE QUEST SEEMED TO ONLY BE APART FROM IT AFTER A FEW DAYS, MAYBE MONTHS AT MOST. DILUC WAS WITHOUT A VISION FOR 3 YEARSSSSS. 3 YEARSSSSSSSSS. NOT ONLY THAT, HE WAS USING A DELUSION FOR THOSE 3 YEARS WHICH FURTHER MESSES UP HIS CRUMBLING MENTAL STATE/EXISTENCE/ETC

I want an au where Diluc doesn't take back his vision after he comes back, whether out of a still lingering grudge and stubborness or- in the opposite direction- he feels guilty, like he doesn't deserve his Vision, especially since it didn't allow him to save his father and was used to hurt the only person he has left.

And he starts changing. Kaeya at first thinks Diluc genuinely hates him bc he's still acting cold and it goes on for awhile. Then, Kaeya realizes he's just like that now... with everyone. His usual at least semi-courteous tone he used to use with patrons and business partners is now flat. He ran into (followed) Diluc and Jean and noticed the former was distant, if not borderline callous to his once childhood friend.

Kaeya makes another observation when the traveller finally comes around. Diluc is weirdly self-destructive in a way he wasn't before. Where he used to be cool and mindful of the battlefield, he throws himself into the fray with reckless abandon. His flames which used to be so controlled, run along the edges of his clothes, uncaring for the damage they may cause. And of course, there's the vigilantism that he doesn't want to address with a 10 ft pole (unless it's to tease Diluc about the name).

It all comes to a head when- for one reason or another- Kaeya has to come to the Winery and... he's at a loss for words. Diluc isn't unkind to Adelinde but- if Kaeya hadn't known any better, hadn't also been raised by her- he would thought the two were any other pair of master and servant. At the resigned look from the closest thing he had to a mother, he decides enough is enough.

He rushes Diluc to his office and confronts him straight up. Diluc denies it all, that he has no place to comment on his behaviour anymore. Then, Kaeya pulls out the pyro Vision that he's taken to carrying with him just in case. And Diluc *flinches*.

Speedrun the ending: after a very painful conversation that probably involves a lot of yelling, threats, and at least one elemental reaction, the two can come to an understanding. And after a series of timeskips (and reconciliation talks), Kaeya helps Diluc get over his sudden incompatibility with his vision and the associated guilt.

Then they kith<3

[ghxstlly]

Do you have any headcanons or lore for lethal au feanger?? 👀

I certainly dooooo

lore dump time! ☢️

Disclaimer! This started as a Lethal Company (you know- the funny game!) AU, but my ideas have gotten a little far from the source material, enough that I'm not super sure if I can call it that anymore. It's still seeped in some Lethal Company lore and elements, just way way less than you're probably expecting it to be. Lol!

--

Worldbuilding Stuff

In the very, very distant future, long after the Earth was made uninhabitable, civilization as we know it has spread out to the (apparently very barren) nearby cosmos.

Since there's yet to be a planet discovered that's as lush and full of life as Earth was, a lot of time and energy is spent erecting facilities on barren planets and their moons to gather resources and research to support the settlements and space stations where everyone lives now (at least until they find somewhere nice to go). And when those celestial bodies "dry up", said facilities are prompty abandoned and left to rot.

That's where Halden Electronics comes in— a shady, opportunistic bunch, they like to swoop in after a facility is condemned to salvage what was left behind, for goodness knows what. Trouble is, they're small— they don't have the resources to scavenge in all the thousands of facilities themselves... so they recruit what they call "liquidators."

Ex-convicts, the poor and the otherwise miserable are sought out and promised a better life so that they might sign on, unaware that they're being used as expendable labor.

The Guys!

Fenton was one such individual— desperate for an escape from his stressful environment and hoping to regain some self worth and confidence, he became a liquidator. Though he struggled at first, immensely frightened by the abandoned facilities and the dangers within, he eventually began to excel at his work.

Unfortunately for him, despite his caution, the hazardous conditions eventually caught up with him— more than once. After several years of dutiful work, scarred and injured, Fenton began to deteriorate, physically and mentally, and, taking notice, his overseers assigned him a workmate, despite him being a 1-person team, working out of a ship built for 1.

Igna, a fiery, audacious fellow, became a liquidator because he felt that his life had no purpose, and was assigned to Fenton's team, where he found himself immediately disliked. Believing Igna to be a threat to his safety due to his reckless approach to their work, as well as a sign that his overseers were no longer satisfied with his performance, Fenton was hostile towards Igna and the two fought. Often.

However, after some time, Igna began to realize the extent of Fenton's... many issues, as well as the gravity and truth of the situation they're both in, and found himself wanting to help and protect him, the two growing close as a result and eventually falling for one another.

A couple miscellaneous points

Fenton was actually almost correct about the reason for Igna being sent to join his team— recognizing Fenton's deteriorating health, his overseers thought it would be wise to send Igna as a preemptive replacement.

Along with his physical injuries, Fenton also suffers from hepatic encephalopathy— a condition which affects his coordination, motor function, sleep patterns and causes seizures. It was noticing these sorts of things that made Igna more and more sympathetic.

[000marie198]

Who is the nicest out of the Tails Squad?

Keep in mind that the members I haven't mentioned here are the ones I know nothing about (like STC Tails and Shogakukan's Tails) because I haven't consumed those iterations yet.

Now, let's see here;

AoSTH and SatAM are little guys but they are the squad's certified manipulators. They can be absolute menaces anytime they want. AoSTH will make so much fun of whichever villain makes the mistake of encountering him that the other would regret ever seeing this child

Classic is a sweetheart. He also killed an entire armada of birds by using bombs

Nine won't hesitate to shoot and kill and destroy if he finds an incentive. This child craves violence.

Depending on the matter and his mood, Boom Tails would either be a nice child or the 'gang up to bully this specific adult' child. He won't hesitate to whine and complain when annoyed.

X! Tails is a very nice and helpful fellow. He doesn't hold grudges and even ignores the hurt he feels at possibly being replaced (I swear, I love anime Sonic but he lost a lot of points for ignoring his lifelong best bud in favor of a selfish & over possessive rich boy who just wouldn't leave it). Anyways, that rant aside, he is one of the nicest fellows but he will go full kill mode if sleep deprived and you bother him & there's no Sonic present to reassure him. Also, he is a determined fighter and the captain of a space craft.

Mangey is feral. Unless he gets spooked enough to hide or you're a Sonic, he growls or pounces or scratches or bites

OVA Tails has a temper. Annoy him or upset him in any way and he'd scold back tenfold with a few curses mixed in.

Detective Tails means no harm but he will accidentally find out and reveal your most embarrassing secrets.

IDW Tails has several moods. He's a nice kid if you're a friend, he will gang up with his fellow counterparts to trick people, he will be ready to help you out even in the middle of the night, he has inescapable prisons ready and takes no nonsense when serious, he has camping equipment that's much more complex and dangerous than any regular camping supplies, he will crash a giant shuttle without a warning, he uses the elements of deception and surprise, he will also create blasters with nothing but rusted junk in the matter of barely minutes if given the incentive, is an expert hacker, inherited Sonic's sass and recklessness.

Prime Tails never gets upset unless it's something serious and forgives easily.

Modern is a genius. Gets quite angry and upset when annoyed and pretty much unstoppable when determined. He is a good boy but he banters with Sonic on the daily and has thousands of comebacks and sassy quips in his arsenal. He will tease and annoy someone on purpose if in the mood.

Archie Tails once nearly killed his lifelong best friend and brother because he felt deeply hurt and betrayed over losing his crush to the other (as if romantic crushes are so much greater than familial love 🙄). Also abandoned that person in an alternate future over something I am unable to recall. He is the exact opposite of nice when he gets upset. And it's not too difficult to get him upset.

Smithy is sweet, helpful, kind and skilled. He also has a good eye for all kinds of blades and creates the most expertly crafted weapons. He is probably the nicest person in Camelot.

Going by the stories, Ali has probably allowed 40 beings to be burnt alive with boiling oil. Do not try to attempt anything against him. He is patient and wise but he doesn't fear to inflict the most disturbing horrors on those who he feels deserve it. And people who... OH NO... I am so darn glad rn that Sonic's counterpart in Secret Rings is supposed to be Aladdin and not Qasim! (When I tell you that the Arabian Nights tales were horrific and not for kids, know that I am dead serious.) Just... Don't get on his bad side. If he is given a genuine reason to take someone down, he'd put even Nine to shame with how violent and painful his methods can get.

Sails is a swordsman and a pirate. He might not be the most genius but is definitely among the most skilled in combat. He also enjoys stabbing and slashing and electrocuting people and holds a thirst for thrill & adventure.

Tails Wachowski. Little guy, sweet child, carries highly advanced weapons in his backpack and stole two vehicles in the span of 24 hours. Also hit Knuckles with a car and later let the car fall down a cliff with the echidna still on it. Almost gave their dance fight competitor a heart attack by pulling out life like holograms. Has a cute little, deceptively childish looking laser gun and has a plasma ray blaster in his backpack. Uses the power of puppy eyes to get what he wants every time. 'The baby with a knife' so to speak.

.......

I believe that Prime, Smithy and X!Tails are the nicest ones.

[synergysilhouette]

Remaking Miraculous Ladybug (Season 1)

Oh, boy! Here I go again. Hello, all! I'm a Miraculous Ladybug fan, though my interest in the show has waned over the years due to it's writing. The film adaptation renewed interest for me, and it made me want to rewrite the series--similar to how I rewrote X-Men: Evolution (which I recommend you check out the posts for). Originally I was just gonna make a broad overview of the changes I'd make, but I decided to make it like XME and remake every episode...Yeah, I've got my work cut out for me. Some of these changes are influenced by fans' (not just me) opinions of the show while others are influenced by my own personal thoughts and opinions. As such, in this season, there's a lot of filler, so I'm actually removing some episodes that I don't feel add much to the overall show, possibly taking anything worthwhile and adding to it a different episode. I was gonna make this more PG-13, but I decided not to in the end. I hope you still enjoy it! Please forgive me if I forget/omit any important details due to a lapse in memory of translation changes, as I usually watch the English dub. Sorry in advance!

Ladybug & Cat Noir (Origins-Part 1)--In my remake, the way Marinette and Adrien get their Miraculous is similar to the film version instead of how the show does it, along with Adrien already being a student at the school. While Chat Noir isn't as reckless, he still keeps his light-heartedness and quips, often using his many skills as Adrien to help Ladybug with battling villains. I'd also want more equality for the cat and ladybug miraculous; in this case, if only the ladybug miraculous can purify an akuma, than only the cat miraculous can destroy the akumatized object. Sounds fair, right? Otherwise everything plays out the same. Along with this, I'd like to think their outfits are a bit more detailed; Chat Noir's black outfit is complimented with green designs, and his hair is the same color as Cat Walker's (to avoid suspicion), and Ladybug's hair has red streaks, with it later being joked about by Gabriel that she copied Nathalie.

2. Stoneheart (Origins-Part 2)--Gabriel is shown to be more sympathetic towards Adrien, explaining that he stopped Adrien's homeschooling as a result of Gabriel becoming emotionally detached following Emelie's death. The Ladyblog is more investigative, with Alya wanting to unmask Ladybug. It's revealed that Chloe bullied Ivan because he was nice to Sabrina, and Chloe fears Sabrina leaving her for "utterly ridiculous losers." It's also revealed that Sabrina is an Agreste fan herself (both of Gabriel and Adrien), and Chloe assumes she's brownnosing, but encourages it this time.

3. Stormy Weather--Abandons all stalkerish elements, and Chat Noir is the one to break the parasol with his cataclysm instead of using it on the billboard. I'd also probably put more depth on akumatizations from here on out so that only people with truly angry/sad/envious etc. emotions can be akumatized rather than simply saying to ignore/get rid of negative feelings. Perhaps Aurore had wanted to be a weather girl for a long time and the poll results were closer, causing her to be even more upset that she lost. Otherwise everything plays out the same.

4. The Evillustrator--Lady Wifi being in Marinette's dream is discarded, since production-wise, her episode occurs after this one. When Nathaniel is sent to the principal's office, Marinette realizes that despite sharing classes together for some time, she's just now noticing him. Sabrina, trying to emulate Chloe, jokes at how ironic it is, given that Nathaniel has a crush on her similar to Marinette's crush on Adrien. This makes Marinette feel guilty about not paying attention to Nathaniel, as well as losing hope that Adrien would see her as more than a friend. It's revealed by Sabrina that Chloe is actually good at schoolwork when she was younger, but when her mother left, so did her interests in academics, resulting in relying on Sabrina. Chloe begins to tell off Marinette and threatens to disown Sabrina if she doesn't do what Chloe tells her to, but Adrien overhears and gives Chloe a similar ultimatum of being nicer or he'd stop being friends with her. Sabrina later begs him not to do that, and he feels guilty that he phrased it like he was trying to control her like she controls Sabrina. The Sabrina and Chloe argument doesn't happen here, with Marinette and Chloe arguing instead while Sabrina does all the work, making Marinette feel guilty about putting her own feelings before the group's. It's also revealed that part of the reason Chloe made fun of Nathaniel was because she was worried Nathaniel would be seen as Ladybug's #1 fan instead of her if she saw his work. Chat Noir doesn't flirt with Marinette, acting like Adrien. The Evillustrator more compassionate with Marinette. As the Evillustrator and Chat Noir battle, Marinette wonders if she could be akumatized from unrequited love. When he deakumatizes, Marinette decides that combined with their shared artistic talents and inspired by his passion, asks Nathaniel if he wants to go out sometime, to which he accepts. When Adrien tries to ask Marinette about her time with Chat Noir, she states that he was polite, but when she tells him the reason she's going on a date with Nathaniel, Adrien decides that he needs to be more passionate to win Ladybug's heart.

5. Lady Wifi--Alya doesn't really believe that Chloe is Ladybug, instead suspecting Nathalie (or surmising that she's Nathalie's daughter), but believes that Chloe may be the link to finding out who Ladybug is, given that Chloe upsets enough people that they become akumatized and want to find her, resulting in protection from Ladybug and Chat Noir. While stalking Chloe for any signs of akuma-inducing events, she gets caught and is still suspended. Chloe, once again threatened by another "Ladybug superfan," manipulates Alya into converting her curiosity of Ladybug into frustration, blaming her for getting suspended, making Alya want to expose her. Once akumatized, she goes after Chloe anyway, stating that she pretty much has the heroes on speedial at this point (as well as Lady WiFi's), and embarasses her and Sabrina dressing up as Ladybug and Chat Noir. Most of the episode plays out the same, though Chat Noir narrowly prevents Alya from finding out Ladybug's identity, telling her that Ladybug is someone who doesn't go to the school. Deciding to trust him, Alya decides to turn her attention away from school suspects, and Marinette vows to tell her someday. Everything else is the same.

6. Princess Fragrance--Marinette has to turn down a date with Nathaniel for Tikki instead of Adrien in this version. Sabrina reads Rose's note, stating that she has a crush of her own and wants to know how to tell them, then destroys it. Chloe doesn't try to flirt with Ali, being more interested in Adrien, but tries to steer Sabrina his way, reasoning that anyone she crushed on wouldn't be good enough for her (Chloe), and Ali was a good way to trade up. Nathaniel tries to reason with Princess Fragrance, saying that what she's doing was the wrong way to get someone to want to be with her, but she ignores him, saying that it worked out for him in the end. Due to Chat Noir's cat sensitivity when it comes to smell, he grows irritated by the fragrance rather than brainwashed by it, helping Ladybug defeat Princess Fragrance. Ali is rattled by Rose's akumatization, and she apologizes for trying to make him love her, and he says that they can just be friends for now.

7. Dark Cupid--Includes the flashback from "Derision," and any Adrien-related romance subplot is removed since Marinette is with Nathaniel. Kim tells Chloe that he's had a crush on her since their bonded over "pranking" Marinette, which inspires Chloe to have him prank Alya, still not over the events of "Lady WiFi." Chloe inquires about who Sabrina's crush is, but she states that Chloe wouldn't be able to guess. Kim becomes akumatized after Alya avoids his prank and Chloe rejects him, giving him a vendetta against Alya. Pretty much everything else is the same.

8. Pixelator--Luka is formally introduced, and it's shown that he and Juleka (who ARE twins) are Jagged Stone's children. Pixelator instead vows to use them to get revenge on Jagged Stone. The sunglasses subplot and the hat designing contest from "Mr. Pigeon" are conflated here, given that I'm not a fan of MP, with Marinette giving Jagged Stone a whole new look, which takes inspiration from Pixelator. Luka and Adrien bond as he distracts Chloe long enough to let him transform (which Luka sees). At the concert, Kitty Section makes their debut appearance, though the costumes are more professional and Rose and Ivan are not part of the group. It's also noted that Nathaniel was asked to do the concept art for Jagged Stone's next album.

9. The Bubbler--Nathaniel and Marinette team up to make a poster of Adrien and his friends (signed by all of them), along with Marinette's scarf. While Chloe forgets a gift for Adrien, Sabrina gives one to him from both of them. Nino and Chloe are permitted to go to Adrien's mansion, but after being rudely treated by Chloe and Adrien lashing out at him (following an upsetting conversation with Gabriel) and causing him to be akumatized. More emphasis is put on Adrien's few friends, especially since Nino is realizing how severe Adrien's situation is. Gabriel also doesn't take credit for the sweater, instead tailoring a custom outfit that happens to go with it. Elements of "Simon Says" also occur here to focus on Adrien and Gabriel's dynamic.

10. Rogercop--It plays out essentially the same, except giving more focus to Sabrina as she becomes angry with Chloe for trying to get her fired, though Chloe lies and claims the bracelet she was missing was one that Sabrina gave her and that it meant a lot to her. More hints to Sabrina's mystery crush is dropped, though not explicitly stated. Some of Roger's akumatization is also due to Alya being critical of the officers being unable to defend the city against akumatized villains, thus creating a more stressful environment that could lead to more akumatizations.

11. Gamer--Almost identical, though Chloe is the cause of Max's akumatization rather than Marinette, given that Marinette is with Nathaniel, and Nino reveals his crush on Alya, Luka is also revealed to be a good gamer, taking Chloe's place.

12. The Puppeteer--plays out the same.

13. Reflekta--plays out mostly the same, but puts more emphasis on Luka and Juleka's sibling relationship and hints at a romance between Juleka and Rose.

14. Antibug--It's revealed that Sabrina had a crush on Adrien as well, and Chloe angrily humiliates her in front of the whole school, as well as denouncing their friendship making her wish she was invisible. Most of this plays out the same, with possibly some references to self-harm, making Chloe regret her cruelty towards Sabrina, and Adrien secretly gives her a kiss on the cheek, telling her that he hopes she doesn't disappear (though stating that he didn't see her as anything more than a friend).

15. Kung Food--It's explained that Marinette knows conversational Mandarin, but Adrien helps her with any complexities, and more emphasis is put on her Chinese heritage and history rather than it being done so quickly. Chloe is genuinely ignorant of Asian cultures, something Adrien corrects her on and she implements, as she does personal insults, not broad, racially insensitive ones. Here, Nathaniel and Marinette share the soup with her uncle, with Nathaniel happy to learn more about his girlfriend's ancestors' culture. Everything else is the same.

16. Volpina--It's revealed that the fox miraculous Lila has is the real deal, albeit stolen, and she uses these powers to make her lies and disguises legitimate. Adrien also suspects his father of being a superhero fan and investigates the Miraculous book. Ladybug flies off the handle at Lila, this time for making unflattering lies about Ladybug. She also uses her powers to make it seem as though Adrien and Marinette have been dating behind Nathaniel's back, causing them to break up (as Marinette can't disprove Lila's illusion), resulting in them having to defeat the Illustrator as well. In the end, Lila despises Ladybug and Nathaniel despises Marinette. Lila also learns of Adrien's warning to Chloe in "Evillustrator," and since she hasn't adhered to it, makes an illusion of Adrien that severs his friendship with Chloe.

Lemme know what you thoughts! I may revise this before I do season 2.

[flurrin]

Treasure Planet 2 rundown

@theskyexists sorry i’m consolidating into a post so it’s easier to read kldfshsj.

Jim is struggling socially but shares the top of the class with Kate, and they both think the other is just awful—Kate thinks Jim is a reckless hotshot and Jim thinks she's an uncreative kissup. Captain Amelia arrives with the opportunity to tour her newly commissioned ship, the Centurion, and mistaking them for friends, invites them both aboard for launch. As soon as the ship is off, it’s hijacked by Ironbeard and his crew, vying for the ancient technology the ship was constructed with at the behest of the royal family; all that remains of Flint’s legacy now that Treasure Planet is gone. BEN is the ship’s navigation system, literally built into it for comedy purposes, and accidentally tells Ironbeard basically everything the ship can do, which causes him to refocus on breaking into one of the most notorious pirate prisons in the Ethereum.

Jim’s character arc is that he needs to learn how to be a follower as much as a leader, so his loner type actions end up clashing with Kate’s lawful-good take-charge personality and it ends up messing with their escape plan so they end up crash-landing on a pirate backwater–which ends up being, of course, exactly where Silver has set up his own bar to keep his tabs on the pirate world without having to travel so much anymore (there’s really cute concept art of basically this saloon he’s built out of a beached ship). Jim’s instinct is to draw away from authority which is what is making piracy look so positive to him all of a sudden, especially when Silver, who’s worked with him before, lets him take charge on brainstorming. Kate absolutely hates all of this but she also knows the most about the Centurion because she’s a nerd for the Royal Family so her help is important in locating the ship again–after passing through the Ethereum Abyss, an action set piece filled with with leviathan anglerfish and bioluminescent creatures. The prison is set up at the very edge of this abyss, run off of space-whalefall flotsam, and Jim and co. blend in with the freed prisoners flooding the ship to get back aboard, except…one of those prisoners is Jim’s father, Leland Hawkins.

Jim is integrated directly into the crew and surprisingly welcomed. Kate and Silver manage to keep cover while encouraging him to use this to get close to Ironbeard, which works unfortunately too well–Jim, finding acceptance from this unlikely crew, is now fully onboard to take the ship with Silver for themselves once BEN, Amelia, and the other hostages are safe. Of course, Ironbeard discovers Kate and Silver and Jim is forced abruptly to choose to betray them. He does.

Kate and Silver end up marooned on the prison, which is where Silver’s crappy little ship is still moored. Naturally Jim saved their lives on purpose, but they’re still a little ticked off at him. Jim has to come to the conclusion himself that piracy isn’t for him, and the clincher is his dad’s presence: his former abandonment for THIS life of all things is what gets Jim straightened out again. His dad is not someone he wants to emulate.

He contacts Kate and Silver and they work together to make a plan, with Kate now taking the lead with her advantage of knowledge of the ship and actual warfare and evacuation protocol. Jim is able to carry out her orders from the inside while Kate and Silver standby to get everyone out and plant Silver’s explosive cargo. That’s pretty much the gist of it, I’m still thinking about the climax because it’s got a huge body count as is lol. I’ll probably have Silver fake his own death to get out of the climax, which would both bolster Jim’s feelings concerning piracy’s link with abandonment as well as giving Ironbeard an opportunity to appear ruthless and Kate some time to be independent. I also want to tie in the idea that the monarchy has corrupt elements, hence having this shady old pirate technology in the first place.

[stainedglasstruth]

TIMING: Early June, before Truth Hurts LOCATION: The Old Factory, Worm Row PARTIES: Arden (@stainedglasstruth) & Emilio (@mortemoppetere) SUMMARY: AKA the first time Emilio saved Arden from a vampire. CONTENT WARNINGS: Mentions of suicidal ideation and parental and sibling death.

Going by The Old Factory™ at night alone was probably the most reckless decision Arden had made since coming back to town. Granted, it was still fairly early in the night, and it wasn’t like she was just planning on walking into the abandoned building all willy-nilly, but still. Not a smart move. 

However, she had been hearing some whispers about some illicit dealings taking place at the factory that had caught her attention. Rumors of that nature weren’t exactly uncommon, she’d heard them even when she was still just a kid growing up here. There were stories of drug deals and people being tortured and murdered, of ghosts haunting the place, and of strange creatures attacking anyone who dared to enter the building. In a town full of wild stories, the factory typically didn’t garner people’s attention, but…

It’d been a month since she’d helped Emilio track down that storage facility and learned about the apparent gang activity going on in town. The man had said he’d ‘taken care of’ the situation, but there was no way she was just going to accept that and drop the whole topic. She knew there were likely covens and packs and clans in Wicked’s Rest, but gangs? Maybe she had just gotten too used to there being some supernatural element to everything here that just average human crime felt odd, either way she’d been keeping an eye on things. 

It’d been easy enough to find the name of the guy who had owned the storage locker that he had broken into and then mysteriously disappeared. From there she’d spent a while delving through any social media, his receipts and records, his habits, his associates, the places he and those associates had frequented. It had taken her a while, but it’s not like Arden had been sleeping very well these past few weeks anyway. 

All her digging had pointed her to the factory, which seemed to have been their meeting place. So, she had kept her ear to the ground, wanting to make sure that Emilio was right and that, at least this gang in particular, wasn’t something she needed to be concerned about. And, she had heard some rumblings and decided to check it out. Which is why she was sneaking around the premises with a cross and her camera around her neck and her knife at the ready– just in case. She would just take a peek, maybe snap some pictures, and then she would get the hell out of there.

—

There was something about abandoned buildings. Everyone seemed to love them. Sentient supernatural beings had a habit of taking them over and using them for things like ‘food storage,’ while the more mindless beasts tended to make homes out of them. Humans, too, seemed to flock to them in some strange sort of way, using them as a centerpiece in illicit activities that Emilio really only gave a shit about when someone was paying him to give a shit about them. 

Tonight, no one was paying him. He was in an abandoned factory because there’d been a large amount of spawn activity in the area, and he’d traced it all to this central location. There was a vampire making spawns, and he was willing to bet that they were doing it here. And he could keep killing the spawns as they cropped up, sure — he was damn good at it, at this point, and it gave him something to do — but cutting it off at the source meant less people being hurt by it. And minimizing damage was all Emilio had ever really wanted to do.

So he crept through the abandoned factory, muscles tight and jaw clenched. The whole place was a damn nightmare for someone with his level of paranoia. Every sound made in the factory echoed, even those made by the rats and other stray animals. It made it impossible not to feel on edge. If he came across the vampire who was making the spawns he’d be able to sense them, sure, along with any other undead thing in here. But if there was a malicious fae or a hungry shifter or any kind of beast with a heartbeat? Emilio wouldn’t know until it was on him.

Which was why, when he heard footsteps, he pulled out a knife. He rounded the corner with a grimace, grabbing someone by the shoulder and pressing the knife against their throat. “What the hell are you —” Wait a second. Familiar hair, familiar clothes. Ah, shit. “Arden?” He let go quickly, pulling the knife back and lowering it to his side so fast that the movement was almost hard to track. “The fuck are you doing here?”

—

She probably wouldn’t have heard anything if she hadn’t been so on guard. As it was, she could only tighten her grasp on her knife before she was forcefully grabbed, back pressed to the brick wall of the building as the cool metal of a blade pressed to her jugular. At that moment, her heart nearly stopped, eyes widening comically large as she was faced with the reality of how stupid she’d been. Fuck. 

But then she registered the familiar voice and face, just as he seemed to recognize her. “Emilio,” she gasped as the pressure against her throat disappeared. Her heart raced wildly in her chest. “Jesus, take a girl to dinner first,” she breathed, words just thoughtlessly spilling out of her mouth. Fuck. Okay. She was okay. 

The fuck are you doing here? ‘Checking your work’ probably wouldn’t be an acceptable answer, so she went with the easy answer. “Following a lead.” It wasn’t even a lie, really. “What are you doing here?” She had a feeling she already knew the answer, and it made her stomach uneasy for a few reasons. 

She hadn’t exactly been avoiding Emilio, but since she had learned about Nicole, and especially since Teagan had walked into her life, she didn’t know what to think about the man. She liked him, from the little she actually knew about him, he had the kind of no bullshit attitude she could respect and meant that she didn’t feel the need to bullshit around him, which was always so nice. He didn’t seem like a bad guy, either. Maybe a bit of a mess, but, hey, she couldn’t really fucking talk. But he was a hunter, and now she knew there were people in her life that she cared about that he potentially posed a threat to. And that was a problem. 

Also a problem, if he was out here hunting, that meant she had definitely just walked into a dangerous situation– more dangerous than just human criminals. What were the odds he was just out on a nice evening stroll by a shitty old building? 

Fuck.

—

Guilt burned in his throat as the situation clarified, the sound of Arden’s terrified heartbeat seeming to echo throughout the space. This is what happens when you let your paranoia get the best of you, Cortez, he thought bitterly. It could have been so much worse. On another day, a day where the thing in his head that made him feel as though the whole damn world was a breath away from twisting a knife into his gut, he might not have hesitated before digging that blade just a little deeper. Humans were so fragile. They could die just like that. Emilio would know better than most.

“This isn’t your kind of first date?” He let the dry remark push past the guilt, and maybe it didn’t sound quite right but he didn’t think Arden was one to call him out on it. He liked Arden just fine. She was nosey in the same way he was, wanted answers with the same ferocity that drove him. Similar humor, too. It made her an easy enough person to get along with, even for someone like Emilio who got along with so few people. 

He snorted as his question was answered, because he should have seen that coming. He should have known she’d turn it around on him, too. Arden, for whatever reason, seemed to give something resembling a shit about him. Bad choice on her part, maybe, but he couldn’t stop it. “Following a lead,” he parroted her own reply back to her dryly, raising a brow. 

“Not exactly the safest place to be snooping, you know.” Maybe it was hypocritical of him, considering. How many times had Emilio’s own drive for answers gotten him into trouble? How many times had it almost gotten him killed? But that was different. If he died doing something like this — or when he died doing something like this, because it was always only a matter of time — he would only be doing what he was supposed to be doing. Hunters were built for short lives and violent deaths. Emilio had never been any different. 

As if to prove his point, a sound echoed somewhere deep in the factor. The hair on the back of Emilio’s neck stood up as it drew near. Ah. There was his vampire, then. “You should probably go,” he told Arden lowly, trading his knife for a stake.

—

Between the flash in his eyes and the sound of his voice, it was clear he felt remorseful. Arden’s mind flashed to a previous conversation– what had he called it? Castigo. Her Spanish was shit, but she’d looked it up and, apparently, it had stuck in her mind. Would someone worthy of some kind of divine punishment feel guilty about this? He hadn’t even hurt her. Scared the shit out of her, yes, but she was fine. 

When she’d first met him, she thought she’d had him figured out. She’d met similar types before, one had even been a PI himself, but Emilio… She really didn’t know what to think anymore. He was clearly more compassionate than he cared to admit, stubborn as an ox, refused to let anyone help him, and he was convinced he was awful enough to merit heavenly retribution. Which, she also hadn’t pegged him as the religious type, but go figure. It did all scream of Catholic guilt, she supposed. 

She tried as best as she could to convey that she didn’t hold this against him with a look and an easy smirk. As stupid and naive as it felt, she wanted to believe he wouldn’t hurt people she cared about, wanted to be able to trust him. “Depends on how good of a date it is,” she quipped, trying to push the mess of thoughts aside for the moment. It wasn’t the time or the place. 

Arden rolled her eyes, smirk growing as he mimicked her. However, the playfulness melted away as he pointed out her recklessness. “I know. I was–” The thought was interrupted by a large thump that seemed to echo through the empty building. Emilio’s face turned serious as he told her to go, and she wasn’t about to argue with the hunter. She’d almost definitely be more of a hindrance than she would be helpful, and she would prefer it if she didn’t get killed tonight. 

Nodding, she watched him pull an honest to god stake out of his pocket, and she was again thrust into that headspace where everything felt a little surreal as she suddenly found herself in an episode of fucking Buffy the Vampire Slayer. But this was real, and she had go to. They locked eyes for a moment. “Be careful.”

She was heading away from the factory when something tackled her to the ground.

—

He liked Arden. He’d liked her the first time she’d come barging into his office, with her plan that they ought to work together and help each other out. She was smart, she was stubborn, she was determined. Emilio didn’t have many friends — less who were human. But he liked Arden, and he knew that that was probably a bad thing. Things didn’t typically end well for the people Emilio befriended, after all; either they died or they lost everything. Emilio was a bad luck charm that no one had ever been immune to before. If he were kinder, he thought, he’d tell Arden as much now. He told himself that the only reason why he wasn’t was because he knew she’d be too stubborn to heed any warnings, anyway.

Huffing a quiet laugh at her quip, he rolled his eyes. “Maybe you should have higher standards.” If she was friends with him, that was certainly the truth. No one with decent standards would ever befriend Emilio Cortez. He was sure of that.

Just like he was sure that the vampire he sensed in this building was the same one leaving spawns all around town. Every instinct in him screamed that whoever they were, they were dangerous. He’d still confirm it first, of course — usually, that was the easy part. Monsters couldn’t help but show their true faces sooner or later. Emilio would know. He hadn’t bothered wearing a mask in years now.

At least Arden listened to him about this. It was a relief, given how many people in this town had done the opposite of what he requested in situations like this one. It was always frustrating when someone refused to let you help them, and he was grateful that Arden was willing to run instead of argue. 

But, of course, it didn’t matter. Because, of course, the vampire launched itself out of the shadows and tackled her before she could get more than a few feet away. Its fangs were already out, its eyes bright red as it started to go for her neck. Emilio, unwilling to let it take a bite, threw himself into the scene. He tackled the vampire off of Arden, head down and shoulder first as he grabbed it around the midsection like some violent attempt at a hug. Turning back to Arden with wild eyes, he urged, “Go. I’ll be fine.”

As if looking to argue, the vampire kneed him in the stomach and threw him off of it, sending him flying into the nearest wall. 

— 

Eyebrow raised, Arden leveled a Look at him. “Oh, ‘cause you’re one to talk about higher standards.”

She felt more than a little foolish at her idea to come down here. She’d known it was stupid, but had convinced herself she could handle it, she’d dealt with similar situations while pursuing her career. Just because Wicked’s Rest was Like This™ didn’t mean she couldn’t do her goddamn job. But no, she had to face the reality of the situation and come to terms that all of this shit was so above incredibly above her level that if she didn’t want to end up dead– a body ripped into pieces in the woods– she’d either need to be much more careful and prepared or stay out of trouble entirely, and there was no way she could avoid trouble in this town. Besides, she couldn’t keep her curiosity at bay for long. She was always teetering along the edge of something dangerous, there was something in her that almost seemed drawn to it. Maybe that’s what had ultimately brought her back to town. 

She was certainly filled with regret as she hit the ground, all the air knocked out of her lungs. For the second time that night, Arden found herself staring wide-eyed at another as her heart pounded in her ears. This time, though, instead of a familiar face she found herself staring up into the face of a stranger– a stranger with bright red eyes and fangs.

The raw panic that ran through her in that moment was overwhelming, the fear and adrenaline rushing through her veins had her feeling a little lightheaded. Or maybe that was her shallow breathing. Arden had never had a brush with death, not personally, but it had surrounded her, haunted her. It was hard not to think about dying when the people closest to you passed, and it was even harder not to consider when you lived in the town that hell made. However, while the fears were real, they had all felt so distant. She had never really felt this fear before, as if this current moment might actually be her last. There was a clarity to that panic– she could almost call it a serenity if she weren’t so frightened. 

Thankfully, she had remembered to don the cross currently hanging around her neck. While she was stupid and reckless, and she definitely couldn’t take on a vampire, she had at least taken some precautions. It gave the man enough of a pause for Emilio to barrel into him like a goddamn football player. She hadn’t exactly been planning on sticking around, but the look in the hunter’s eyes didn’t leave any room for argument. 

Arden scrambled to her feet, so overcome by the surrealism of the entire situation that she didn’t quite feel connected to her body. Of course, that was when the vampire flung him into the wall of the factory. There was a horrible thud as his body collided against the brick, and her heart dropped somewhere into her stomach. "Emilio!" 

This was bad. This was bad, and she was an idiot, and her curiosity was actually going to get her killed tonight. And maybe Emilio, too. Fuck. 

She tore her gaze away from him and back to the man– vampire– in front of her. God, she was fucked. There was no way she’d be able to outrun him, and her knife would just piss him off. Searching for anything that could help her, her eyes landed on the stake just a few feet away in the grass. It must’ve fallen out of the hunter’s grasp when the vampire tossed him like a fucking ragdoll– Okay. Get the stake. She could do that. She dove for it, fingers wrapping around the wood just as the guy grabbed her leg. 

—

“I don’t know what you mean. My standards are very high.” He was good at this. The dry humor in the face of a shitty situation, the not-quite-funny jokes that might mark the last words he ever spoke. When you grew up the way Emilio had, you learned to be pretty damn cavalier about death, especially when that death was your own. It was the expected outcome, after all, for a hunter to die at the hands of something they were hunting. Emilio had known it would be something undead that killed him since he was old enough to know anything at all, since he learned that he’d had a father who’d lived and died before he turned two, since he’d watched the breath leave so many of his relatives that there were days he struggled to remember the names of everyone his family had buried in his lifetime. There was a reason why old hunting families like the Cortezes were something of a rarity; most people like him didn’t live long enough to raise children.

He’d never really minded the idea of going out bloody. He’d known he was supposed to for as long as he could remember, had the idea reiterated by his oldest brother’s death when he was twelve. Hunters were supposed to die, and Emilio was supposed to be a hunter. These days, that inescapable fact felt more like the light at the end of the tunnel than something to fear. 

But he’d always been taught to make sure you didn’t take anyone down with you. When his back hit that wall, part of him was just as ready to accept what happened next as he was every time something got the drop on him. There was a piece of paper in his desk for Rhett or Nora to find, a note that said, ‘I’m sorry, but are you really surprised?’ with a few added instructions. And he was all right with that, but he couldn’t be all right with Arden. 

She yelled out his name and drew that vampire’s attention right back to her, and Emilio grunted as he scrambled to his feet. She should have run. She should have run the moment he told her to, shouldn’t have paused at all when things turned south. If she were already out of sight, the vampire wouldn’t have bothered with her. The ones like this tended to be pretty single minded, and just because it couldn’t turn Emilio into one of its spawns didn’t mean it wouldn’t want to kill him. Vampires, he’d been taught, enjoyed little more than taking out slayers. It gave them a lot more to brag about than killing a regular human.

But given the choice between a fresh meal and blood that would only burn its throat going down, it was clear that this one would choose the latter. Emilio watched Arden scramble towards the stake, watched her hand close around it just as the vampire’s gripped her ankle. He thought about Leticia, of the way she’d looked at her hands in that alley after the vampire turned to dust beneath them. For Emilio, killing a vampire was routine. For people like Leti, like Arden, it probably felt a lot more like murder. And he couldn’t let another one of his friends hate themselves for something he should have done. It wasn’t right. 

With one arm wrapped loosely around his side, he fumbled in his pocket for another stake. Paranoid mess that he was, Emilio carried enough of them to make his jacket heavy with it, along with enough holy water and rosaries to stock a church. “Hey,” he snapped, moving towards the vampire again. “What’s wrong? Thought we were having a good time. Come finish what you started.”

—

Aren't they better off without you? The words echoed through her mind, unbidden, as her fingers clawed at the dirt, trying to get away, trying to keep hold of the stake as the vampire dragged her backwards, chuckling to himself. Emilio would certainly be better off if she weren’t here right now, that was for sure. Arden wasn’t just useless in this situation, she was actively a liability. Her humanity, her blood, made her a target, something he had to protect because she certainly couldn’t protect herself here. If anything happened to either of them that night, it would be on her.

At least he seemed to be okay enough to taunt the vampire. Theoretically, she was aware that hunters could withstand more than the average human, but she didn’t know exactly to what extent, and she really didn’t want to find out. 

“You talk too much, slayer.” The vampire’s voice was deep, gruff. He sounded over it, as if they had interrupted his evening of doing god knows what. The taunt seemed to work, though, as he casually tossed her aside to confront Emilio. She tried to catch herself, but her wrist did not like that. After a moment, though, she was back on her feet.

She hated herself for running. Logically, she knew it was the right decision, she knew she was only getting in the way, had known that from the beginning, but it still felt like she was abandoning Emilio to some horrible fate. As much as he seemed to be okay with dying in the line of duty or whatever fucking hunter mentality he had adopted, she was decidedly not okay with it. If she ran, and he died, Arden would never be able to forgive herself for that. 

But she was useless here, and they all knew it. He was truly better off without her at the moment. So, she ran back to her car, feeling worse every step of the way. 

As much as she liked to think of herself as someone who was intelligent and prepared, her knowledge was of no use to her when it came down to it. She was a powerless human in a world full of magic and monsters. It was something she had known nearly half her life, but the full reality of it hadn’t sunk in until that moment. 

Her body shook as she collapsed into the driver’s seat, eyes stinging as she locked the doors behind her. 

—

“I get that a lot,” he replied, flashing a smile that was all teeth. Despite the vampire’s apparent irritation, it tossed Arden to the side like she was nothing. Emilio had to keep himself from glancing to her to make sure she wasn’t badly hurt. She was well enough to scramble to her feet, and that was what mattered. Looking at her now, letting the vampire know that he cared about her… It was a sure-fire way to make her more interesting to the monster than she would be if she were just a meal ticket. And there was nothing worse, Emilio thought, than being interesting. 

Arden ran, and relief flooded through him like a physical thing. Arden ran, and she was safer for it. Emilio wasn’t good at protecting people when it mattered. There was a woman’s wedding band hanging at his throat that proved it, a dead child’s name tattooed on his wrist that made it an obvious conclusion. Emilio tried to protect people and only ever made things worse for them instead, only ever got them killed. It was better for Arden to run, for her to protect herself with distance rather than rely on him to do it with his hands. He wasn’t the protector he was supposed to be.

But he was a damn good distraction.

The fight, without the distraction of Arden’s presence and the worry that she’d be next if he let himself fall victim to the monster’s teeth, was a quick one. Emilio fought best when he had nothing to lose. The vampire got a few blows in, but Emilio was built for this. He was born for it. He’d die a bloody death at a vampire’s hand someday, but not today. Not this vampire. This vampire, as his stake found skin and slid easily between the ribs, wasn’t going to hurt anyone else ever again. Not Arden, not Emilio, not any of the people who might stumble into this abandoned factory. No one.

His chest heaved as the dust settled, and he moved forward to pick up the discarded stake that had been lost in Arden’s scuffle with the vampire. Slowly, he made his way out of the factory, limping a little more than he typically did. He saw a car parked in the parking lot, took a guess at who might be inside. He made his way over to it, tapping on the window and offering Arden a wave. If it were him, he’d want to know that the person he’d met up with made it out alive. He thought she’d probably sleep better tonight if she saw him instead of just receiving a text. 

—

She felt terrible, the massive pit in her stomach might as well have been a black hole, for all it felt like it was consuming her. Arden sat for a while, shaking, crying, wanting to do something, anything. Sure, it wouldn’t kill it, but driving a car into a vampire couldn’t hurt. It could hurt Emilio, though, or distract him enough to get him hurt or killed. Besides, she was having a hard time doing anything right then. Her mind was spiraling out of control, and she couldn’t get herself to stop trembling, to move. You’re an adult, she tried to tell herself. It did not help. This is very damsel in distress. But she had been tonight. 

She could’ve fucking died– she absolutely would have if Emilio hadn’t happened to be there. She couldn’t stop thinking about it, about the red eyes hovering over her. I could’ve died. It echoed around her skull endlessly. She could’ve died. And Emilio still could, a part of her supplied, helpful as ever. 

She was such a fucking idiot. A useless one, at that. 

The tapping on the window made Arden jump, head shooting up from where it had been resting on her knees. The relief that flooded through her body as she looked up to find Emilio standing there was overwhelming. Unfurling from her curled up position in the seat, she quickly scrubbed a hand over her face as she unlocked the door for him, gesturing at him to hop in with a tilt of her head. The moment he was inside, she threw herself at the hunter, reaching over the center console and pulling him into an awkward one-armed hug before even she could process what she was doing. 

She didn’t say anything, and it wasn’t a very long hug as she quickly realized what she was doing, who she was hugging– Emilio didn’t strike her as the most physically affectionate man. Mortified, Arden pulled back, not quite looking him in the eye as she gave him a once over. “Are you okay?”

—

He spooked her, and he probably should have seen that coming. She’d been through a fucking ordeal tonight, and while this sort of thing was commonplace for Emilio, it tended to be a little less so for everyone else. She looked like she’d been crying, eyes watery and red-rimmed, and he couldn’t help but wonder why. Was it the stress of what had happened? The adrenaline fading and being replaced with fear and unease in the aftermath of a traumatic event? Or were those tears for him? 

The last one seemed the strangest. It wasn’t that Emilio thought that Arden wouldn’t mourn him if he’d died in that factory — in fact, he knew she would have. That was what made it so strange. All his life, Emilio had been raised knowing that a violent death was the expected outcome of the life he led. He thought of his father, dead before he was born, or of his oldest brother, a ghost that haunted the dinner table long before the rest of the family followed suit. 

Hunters could only ever end one of two ways: as martyrs, or as cautionary tales. All his life, everyone around him had known as much. His mother hadn’t cried when Victor had died, and he doubted she’d shed any tears for his father, either. She certainly wouldn’t have cried for Emilio, had he met his fate before she did. The fact that Arden was worried, the fact that she was upset, the fact that even just the potential of his death had affected her…

Emilio circled around to the other side of the car obediently, opening the door and climbing inside. Her arms were around him almost as soon as he entered the space, the hug tight and desperate and relieved. Emilio froze for a moment, unsure how to respond. After a brief pause, he patted her shoulder uncertainly. Hugs weren’t something he was accustomed to; he barely had anything to compare this one to. 

It wasn’t long before she pulled away, though it still counted among the longest hugs Emilio had ever been given. He looked at her carefully, leaning back so that she could see that he was mostly unharmed. “I’m fine,” he assured her. “See? All in one piece.”

—

Arden could feel the weight of his eyes on her, but she pointedly avoided meeting his gaze. ‘All in one piece’ wasn’t the most reassuring response, but he did look okay. Depending on how fast that hunter healing actually was, she figured he might have some bruising for a bit after how hard he’d hit that wall, but that was just her gut instincts. As tonight had proven, her research and knowledge could only get her so far, and she couldn’t say she was aware of all the ins and outs of hunters’ healing abilities. At least she couldn’t see any obvious injuries. 

“Good.” Her voice was so fucking shaky and she hated it. She couldn’t help herself from peeking up at him, but he was always harder to read than others, and she really wasn’t up to the task at that moment. She looked away quickly, feeling so incredibly embarrassed and stupid and small.

Arden would’ve been mortified for Leah to see her in such a weak and vulnerable moment, and Leah was her best friend– the person she felt most comfortable around. Falling apart in front of fucking Emilio Cortez made her wish a giant Looney Toons-esque hole would appear underneath her to spare her from all of this. The vampire could rise out of the pile of dust like a phoenix and drink her like a Capri Sun, and she would fucking welcome it. 

That mental image almost got a chuckle out of her, but between the whirlwind of thoughts and the awful feeling in her chest, she just couldn’t. She didn’t want to talk about this. She didn’t need him to tell her how idiotic it had been to come here or have an incredibly awkward and uncomfortable conversation about feelings or anything of the sort. Arden was well aware of how much of a dumbass she had been, and that she could’ve died. Honestly, she didn’t especially want to speak at all or even be around any other living being except Hobbes and maybe Falkor and Atreyu. 

But still, he was a friend, and he had saved her ass. Plus, they did live in the exact same building, it was literally where she would be heading anyway. “You want a ride home?” It was a weeknight, and they were still in Worm Row, she could manage the short drive. “Or do you have more hunting to do?” 

—

She was clearly upset and, while Emilio might have had a hard time wrapping his mind around the fact that someone would be this affected by the potential of his death, he cared enough about his friend not to push. He didn’t even make one of his typically poorly timed jokes, brow furrowed as he watched her try to compose herself. Her voice shook, her hands trembled. How much of that was the adrenaline fading, and how much was a genuine desire for him to be okay? And why did the latter feel so impossible?

He settled into the seat as she pulled away from the hug, leaning back against the fabric like he was hoping it might swallow him whole. She asked if he needed a ride home, and his first instinct was to say no. His first instinct was to insist that he had more work to do, because he always did. Emilio could kill a thousand vampires, could save a million journalists, and it still wouldn’t be enough to redeem him from all the things he’d done wrong. He was damned and would stay that way until all the blood in his veins soaked into the dirt, until his body rotted into bones and those bones turned into dust. He had more hunting to do, because he always did. Because he had so much to make up for, and such little time in which to do it.

But right now, his friend was sitting in the seat beside him, and she was shaking. She was staring straight ahead, she was stealing glances at him like she thought he might disappear into a cloud of dust the same way that vampire had. Emilio still had so much more to do, but he also had a friend who he thought might need him to be finished for the night. And there was no real hope of redemption for him, anyway, so what was a few hours less? 

Reaching up, he pulled the seatbelt down, clicking it into place in a way he probably wouldn’t have if Arden didn’t look so haunted already. “Sure,” he said, “I’ll take a ride. Thanks, Arden.”

[ciswomenofficial]

It’s not 100% the same situation between the two by any means, but when Fredrick Douglass said that black men may sometimes be rapists, but that they don’t have any more propensity to the pursuit than white men, and I think the same logic can be applied to a lot of these insane callout posts against trans women, and to accusations against trans women in queer spaces. Online and IRL, people have accused me of being probably sexually predatory with no evidence based on nothing but I suppose vibes. People have accused me of being various types of racist with no evidence for disagreeing with them in good faith, just so they could hide their transmisogyny behind an oppressed identity. There *is* racism and there *is* abuse in trans women’s spaces—none of its effects felt by anyone more strongly than other trans women—but we aren’t more likely to do any of that than any group of tme people trans or cis men or women or non-binary. By spreading around callout posts with no evidence or cherry-picked evidence, you are not fighting the problems of violence and bigotry within the trans women’s community. You are only making it harder to tell the poisonous and backwards from the benign or even progressive elements. We can’t pick the weeds if people are pointing wildly with reckless abandon at every seedling.

[outeremissary]

For Balthazar and Tristian: 4., 8. and 14. 💖

From this prompt list... some parts of this felt like a challenge to keep it all spoiler free, but I’ve done my best!!!

4. Which one is more protective? Who needs to be “protected”?

Balthazar certainly believes he’s the more protective one. He’s quick to defend Tristian’s reputation and to quietly undermine people who spread rumors about Tristian. And when it comes to threats against him, there’s no hesitation and no mercy at all. He’s even willing to fight for Tristian himself if it comes to it. He’s not much of a fighter, but if it takes that kind of risk to keep Tristian safe, he’ll dive in without thinking. Tristian is practically the only person Balthazar is willing to risk himself for. There’s not much he wouldn’t do to know Tristian is safe.

With all that said. There's a terribly strong case to be made that it's actually Tristian. Tristian may be better attuned to Balthazar's safety than Balthazar himself- he's always thinking ahead of threats against Balthazar and how to ward against them (and there are an awful lot of threats to track). He's the one who argues most intensely against Balthazar putting himself in risky situations, and he has significant concerns about Balthazar going out to do things alone. After one incident in which Balthazar was seriously hurt, Tristian started inviting himself along any time he was concerned for Balthazar's safety (something which was not at all appreciated at the time). And when there is a choice that must be made between Balthazar's life and the lives of others... Well, Sarenrae forgives some straying, doesn't she? Keeping Balthazar safe is a thankless job, but it's a significant preoccupation of Tristian's. No matter what it takes, Balthazar won't die as long as he has something to say about it.

Either way, definitely an element of "How could you be so reckless?!" *turns around and does something just as bad*

8. What happens if one of them gets sick?

If Balthazar gets sick, then Tristian would be the one personally tending him. He wouldn’t leave his side without being sure of Balthazar's safety- especially considering the way strange ailments have a way of plaguing the Stolen Lands. As an expert healer, making sure Balthazar is cared for wouldn't be a significant challenge, but he'd still want to be present as much as possible for comfort and to keep an eye on things. If the illness was serious, however, you'd be hard pressed to get him to leave Balthazar's side. It would drive him mad with worry until he knew Balthazar was recovering, and even then he'd lose sleep over it. When I think about it, Balthazar does have a knack for getting seriously injured or cursed… something adjacent to this happens more often than it probably should.

Balthazar isn’t exactly useful at a sickbed, but he'd hang around anyway. He'd be quick to abandon responsibilities to advisors to make himself available, especially if it was serious. If he was made to leave, he’d fret nonstop and be in a mood that made life unpleasant for everyone around him. Either way he'd do everything he could to be sure that Tristian was as well cared for as possible- the best medicine available, the best healer... it might seem like too much for small illnesses, but he can't help but worry for Tristian's comfort and safety. He'd say as much to any protest.

14. How do their personalities complement each other? How do they clash?

I already answered this one, but I can add some Extra Things just for fun!

At times, Balthazar gets impatient with the amount of time Tristian gives up to other people. Tristian will sometimes suddenly cancel plans with Balthazar if something he thinks is important comes up and trust Balthazar to understand, but it does annoy him a great deal. Balthazar can't really understand (or doesn't want to) prioritizing spontaneous acts of charity over a loved one.

On the other hand, Balthazar has a habit he often falls into of speaking vaguely or in implication and innuendo which seem fairly clear to him, and it can be very confusing and sometimes frustrating for Tristian, who can't always follow. Clarity of communication would be appreciated.

Generally, Balthazar has an easier time keeping calm and adapting when plans are thrown off, something which is very reassuring.

Together both of them are incredibly good at social tasks and planning. Balthazar has always been socially gifted and generally has a strong understanding of how people work, and Tristian has a deep investment in and care for others. It's an excellent combined skillset for a kingdom. It also makes it easy for them to consult with one another about projects. In the end they have similar visions for outcomes even if the reasoning for wanting them can be different.

Both of them are hard workers with a tendency to get lost in projects (which one might not expect of Balthazar considering his tendency to avoid tasks he dislikes, but is true), and this means a tendency towards late nights and skipped meals left to their own devices. It winds up being that they keep an eye on one another and mitigate some of these tendencies- there's a strong "well, it's fine for me to be doing unhealthy things, but I'm not going to let you!" mentality there.

[intcritus]

⭐️⭐️ (adrian and lumine for jianyu!)

⭐ ️ Adrian tends to gravitate toward Jianyu whenever he senses him within the vicinity when he’s traveling. He has developed a kind of Jianyu sixth sense and will often not approach him directly but will actively make sure he’s safe. It’s silly in a way because he really isn’t the most social and even though he feels completely safe with Jianyu, he also is content with watching over him. The few times he approaches him, is because he needs help patching a wound or stitching one. His hands aren’t the steadiest and asking for help is showing his trust in Jianyu. He also leaves anything he’s caught for Jianyu to feed himself and Khasar. Not a fish since he notices his friend doesn’t enjoy it. 

⭐️ Lumine as a seasoned adventurer and someone who has traversed worlds in her incredibly long life tends to tell Jianyu plenty about her time on the road and across worlds whenever they’re traveling together. She has a habit of staying up long after he’s gone to sleep at their camp, just because she tends to just stare up at the stars in hopes she understands Teyvat better. I also hc that these two have each other’s back a lot in any battle they engage in and sometimes Jianyu is just like how does she wield so many elements, meanwhile Lumine over here kicking ass, which is so funny to me. But also also them growing closer because of the amount of time they’ve spent traveling together and just sharing little details about one another no one really knows. Sometimes I think about that they’ve probably been all over and just sometimes just stop to take in the sights and get a bit of a breather and he probably has to scold her once or twice about the reckless abandon in which she throws herself in certain battles. 

For each “⭐️” I get, I’ll write a headcanon about our muses. | @guhamun

[therealitycollective]

The Lamentation of a Starseed

The ocean was polluted.

That was putting it lightly.

It was more accurate to say that the ocean’s ecosystem was on the verge of catastrophic collapse.

Millions of gallons of nuclear waste had just recently been spilled into it from an incident in Fukishima, Japan. 

Millions of gallons of crude oil had been spilled into it due to reckless deepwater drilling operations.

And, to top things off, a garbage patch twice the size of Texas floated atop it like some strange crown of plastic thorns.

So when Sydney, knowing all this, would visit the beach she saw something strangely horrible.

All the people sat on their towels facing the ocean like it was a TV, enjoying themselves. And when she saw them all sitting like that and wading into the waves with gleeful smiles she saw ignorance and foolish abandon where there should be reverence, fear, and sullen self reflection.

And so she waded into the waves in her bikini like a prayer. Cleansing it with her honor. Healing it with her homage to Her.

She ducked under an oncoming rush of white water, keeping her eyes open underwater. She had several feet of visibility before her. The water was greenish and woven with complex threads of magik that the Mother allowed only her to see.

A moment of ambient quiet underneath.

When her head broke the elemental line, into the wind and air, back into the rhythmic sound of breaking waves and broken conversations and cries of glee and celebration she stationed her feet atop the sand with the water up to her shoulders and looked dead ahead to the horizon, praying to that place where the sky and sea met for some kind of divine intervention, for something to somehow right all this wrong that seemed so far from even being mildly addressed by the people. But, she thought, that divine intervention will probably not come. And so she looked ahead to the horizon and saw her own death playing out. 

She saw the death of all life playing out.

“The ocean is life,” she whispered. Then she floated on her back, staring up to the little cessna plane from which trailed a wind beaten banner advertising health insurance.

There rose the cries of pleasure and amusement from the crowd of swimmers as they played in waves from whose impetus came afar off.

The truth was too much for them. And so they didn’t know how to go to the beach. They went to the beach like it was an amusement park, but you had to go to the beach like it was a church. The holiest, most awe inspiring church you could imagine. This is where we come to confess our deepest sins, she thought. And look at all these sinners, refusing to repent. They have turned the church into a marketplace.

They steal the money from the hat.

Pass that hat around.

Till there’s nothing left.

She turned back toward the shore.

She walked amongst the waves that had traveled from so far to break atop her turned back. She made her way back to the sand and found the spot where her mother lay tanning.

And she sat down next to her mother on the large and colorful towel and just stared out at her other mother Earth and her enormous womb of salt water. She heard many broken conversations going on around her and the sound of radios.

None of the topics of conversation were of any consequence. And no one was crying, she noticed. For some reason no one was crying. And so Sydney began to cry. She cried and cried.

Her mother sat up atop the towel and beheld her daughter’s tear filled eyes.

“Sydney?”

Her voice broke. “They don’t understand, mom,” she said through her tears.

“Who doesn’t understand what?”

“The beach goers. They don’t understand the beach.”

“Honey, you’re worrying me.”

“Not for the right reasons.”

She wiped her tears with the back of her hand and she kind of laughed at the absurdity of the tragedy.

Her mother’s eyes narrowed. She took in her daughter’s grim demeanor and was compassionate enough to know not to speak.

“It’s not an amusement park.”

“No, Sydney... it’s a beach.”

“It’s life’s church.”

Her mother was silent.

“I want to go home...” said Sydney.

“Okay, honey. If you’re not feeling right we can certainly go home.”

Sydney’s tone became suddenly angry. “Oh, so we can hop into our glinting steel automobile machine that aggressively tears through the air with violence and pollutes the environment and then return to our little isolated box of momentary solace and we’ll call that home. No. Just no. That is not home. That’s… a fucking box.”

“Honey, I don’t know what to tell you. That’s as home as it's going to get. Everyone deserves a home to return to.”

Sydney spoke brokenly through tears. “I mean I want to go fucking home. Home. Real home.”

“And where is home?”

Sydney laughed. She stopped crying.

It was daytime and there were no stars but she looked up directly at Sirius, even though she consciously knew next to nothing about astronomy. 

“I have no idea... I really don’t.” she said shaking her head.

“I’m sorry you’re feeling this way, darling.”

“Me too, ma,” she said, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. “Me too.”

And the beach goers went on about themselves, enjoying another nice day.

[legionofpotatoes]

I went to see john spiderman 2: eurotrip today and had a whole-ass deep dive essay planned of my complicated reactions to it but then I realized. who really cares. I’ve walked my plank of problems and fascinations with these movies front and backwards, ad nauseam, with each new release. getting into the weeds of this one is pointless really.

because far from home hammers home (ha) the fact that MCU movies are a beast of their own now, impossible to adequately judge as standalone forms of media. it’s just easier to see that in spider man films in particular because of the richness of their cinematic context. they’ll never ever hit the ethos of spider-verse or the pathos of raimi fims, but they’ll keep making these genuinely charming little jigsaw pieces of their billion-dollar comic book that are impossible to hate, and that’s fine. but there is also something sad about that realization. Ya know?

but you really can’t deny the charm ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[merakiui]

Heey saw requests were open so I couldn't help but come check out and ask! Will you be okay if you do a Xiao, Zhongli, Diluc and Childe with a S/O who tries to took a hit for them from getting killed by an enemy?

Xiao, Zhongli, Diluc, and Childe with an S/O who Shields Them From an Attack

☁️ Xiao ☁️

You dragged him along so that he could get some fresh air and help you with your commissions. Xiao would rather stay inside, but you seemed to want to spend time with him so it’s hard to object.

Xiao definitely tried to avoid going with you, but you had kissed his cheek and said it’s more fun if he accompanies you. His weak heart agreed right away.

So not only is he there to provide moral support and company, he’s also there to make sure you’re not going to do anything foolish.

He’s already defeated multiple enemies while you looked through crates for extra materials. If he were mortal, your carelessness probably would’ve shaved a few years off of his life.

He keeps telling you to pay attention and you say you are, but then you turn away and next thing you know an arrow comes whizzing past you.

Xiao’s picking up a damaged mask from the grassy ground, wiping the grime from it, when your shout alerts him. And before he knows it you’re tackling him to the ground.

He’s surprised and a little angry, snapping at you to be more careful. Your grip on his shirt tightens and he wonders what’s gotten into you.

When Xiao places his hand upon your back and finds the arrow sticking out of it, he freezes. You just...shielded him from an attack. And in the process you ended up getting hurt.

Warm blood coats his fingers and you’re doing all that you can to avoid bursting into tears in front of the stern adeptus. He sits up with you, wasting no time in swiftly defeating the archer hilichurl. His anger can be felt in the way he attacks mercilessly, showing no sign of letting up until the hilichurl has fallen to the ground.

Xiao can’t believe you, a mortal, would shield him, an immortal, from an arrow. He knows you love him, but to so readily take a hit for him—it’s surprising.

“You...” He wants to call you stupid, but you were only thinking of his safety. Instead he chooses to pacify you rather than berating you for something that has already happened. “You’re going to be okay. It doesn’t look that bad.”

He tends to your injuries to the best of his ability and then will bring you back to Wangshu for further inspection. Once the arrow is pulled out and your injury is cleaned and bandaged, tears finally spring from your eyes. It really, really hurts and you feel bad for making Xiao worry on your behalf.

He’s just relieved you’ll heal normally. But in the future he doesn’t want you to endanger yourself for his sake. After all, he’ll be perfectly fine if he takes a hit that would be fatal to most.

“I just don’t want to see you hurt,” you admit, placing your hand on his shoulder. “I know you’re an adeptus, but it would’ve hurt me more if I’d just let you get hit.”

Xiao sighs, taking your hand in his. “I guess it’s fine... Just don’t do it again, okay?” Deep inside, he’s truly touched that you would throw yourself in front of danger just to protect him, but he doesn’t want this to become a recurring thing for you. 

🔶 Zhongli 🔶

You had taken Zhongli out to find some Cor Lapis and other ores you were in desperate need of. He suggested buying them from the locals, but he didn’t bring any Mora and you knew of a few abandoned mines where you could get them for free.

With that logic cemented into place, you and Zhongli headed off for the areas you had marked on your map.

It wasn’t a difficult trip; the two of you worked diligently in clearing any enemies that got in your way and eventually you had made it to the first cave.

Zhongli was reciting the history of Liyue caves and their monetary benefits while you climbed over rubble and debris from past accidents. You’d almost tripped once, but he had caught you out of reflex, seemingly unbothered with your clumsiness.

All was going well. You’d mined a lot of ores with Zhongli’s help and the two of you were about to move onto the next cave when the ground above seemed to shake. Briefly, you glanced up, wondering what could be causing such a disturbance.

“We should be careful. There might be a Ruin Hunter around,” you told him as you navigated through the winding tunnel. Zhongli nodded in agreement with that, easily stepping over fallen stones.

Before you knew what was happening, the entire cave was shaking as another loud explosion resonated from above. Debris from above trickled down like snow and you cowered for a moment, expecting a cave-in.

It was silent for a few minutes and you figured the threat must’ve passed. Zhongli waited for a moment as he listened to the silent, musty air.

Just as you breathed your sigh of relief, the ground shook ten times harder than before, and stones larger than the ores you had mined were raining down at once.

The initial shock was more than enough to have you running for the entrance, pulling a very confused Zhongli along. A stone larger than your foot comes falling, and it’s about to hit Zhongli on the head.

To avoid an accident, you shove him to the front and the rock hits you instead of him. Luckily, it wasn’t on the head, but it did hit your ankle hard.

You’re worried you’ve sprained it after you fall to the ground, more stones pelting you. The next thing you know, Zhongli picks you up in his arms and carries you out of the cave before it can collapse entirely on the both of you.

Concerned for your safety, Zhongli observes your injuries. You’re bruised and your ankle does look sprained. He asks if you can stand and when you try he frowns. It looks like you’re going to need to rest up for a few days.

Zhongli will help you the rest of the way back, occasionally stopping so you can give your legs a rest. He expresses his gratitude and is rather surprised that you would go out of your way to take the hits of many stones and rocks.

Despite being thankful, Zhongli hopes you won’t do this again because he doesn’t like to see you in pain. If you’re hurt, he feels hurt and that’s the last thing he wants.  

🔥 Diluc 🔥

A group of slimes were hanging around the winery again and so Diluc went off to deal with the problem. He didn’t expect there to be so many, though.

You had tagged along just in case something like this were to happen. And even though Diluc is strong enough to handle so many enemies, these slimes just kept coming.

It was difficult to deal with all sorts of different slimes: Electro, Anemo, and even Cryo. Despite the fact that he didn’t want you to endanger yourself—he insisted he could handle it—you still did what you could to help.

Once you were certain all the slimes were defeated, Diluc sighed, leaning against his weapon to relax after so much fighting. His back was turned and he didn’t notice the large slime creeping up on him.

You jumped in just in time to prevent the slime from hurting him. It had been a quick reaction, one that you hadn’t thought through entirely.

The Cryo slime is freezing to the touch and as soon as it hits you an icy cold envelops you. You try to look strong in front of Diluc, but it’s just too much and you fall to your knees, shivering while the slime looms over you.

Diluc witnessed the entire thing when he first noticed you jump into action and he’s very surprised to find that last slime. He defeats it at once before dropping down to check your injuries.

You aren’t exactly wounded, but you are very cold. He’s ashamed at himself for not paying closer attention to his surroundings.

While Diluc is grateful that you protected him, he’s disappointed that you’d put yourself in harm’s way. You should’ve just let the slime hit him.

He sheds his coat and drapes it over you, using his own Pyro element to start a fire that’ll have you warm in no time.

“You didn’t have to do that. But...thank you. Next time don’t do anything reckless. You’ll hurt yourself,” he says while checking your body temperature.

“But I wanted to keep you safe, Diluc! You already defeated so many slimes. That last one could’ve done some serious damage.”

He’s touched that you’d worry about him, but he doesn’t want you to do something like that again. It’s upsetting that you got harmed as a result of him and he wants to make sure you’re truly okay.

You drag Diluc under his coat so that his body heat can warm you up faster. And even though he tries to get out of it, he doesn’t complain too much.

It’s hard to be upset at the person he loves so much, especially if they were the one who protected him.

💧 Childe 💧

You and Childe were picking through some ruins, searching for chests and other valuable materials. You were careful to avoid any enemies, as the last thing you wanted to do was fight a bunch of slimes and hilichurls.

Childe fought them in your place, eagerly defeating them while you remained on the sidelines.

Everything was going well until the two of you stumbled upon a Ruin Guard that was slumped over, docile and not yet awake. Childe looked over at you and then at the Ruin Guard and then back at you, grinning madly the entire time.

You could only face palm and shake your head, grabbing his arm and gesturing in another direction. You’d encountered enough monsters today; you definitely didn’t want to waste your energy on a rust bucket. But Childe, who had only been fighting small enemies up until this point, was itching for a bigger opponent.

So he rushed ahead despite your quiet protests. And you were stuck having to watch as he sparred with the Ruin Guard.

You would’ve left it up to him if you hadn’t noticed the second Ruin Guard awakening from its slumber, having been disturbed by the commotion.

One Ruin Guard was already an issue, but now you’ve got to deal with two. You can only sigh as you run in to defeat the second one, hoping it won’t take up too much of your time.

Missiles are everywhere; they’ve nearly destroyed the ground and have cracked the already eroded stone pathways. You’ve nearly fallen victim to them a few times now and if it weren’t for Childe’s quick thinking you would’ve been crushed by their mechanical feet.

The first Ruin Guard falls before the two of you in a heap of exhausted, overheated gears and Childe twirls his bow, a glint of madness of his gaze.

You would’ve called it a day if it weren’t for the other Guard aiming for him, missiles completely locked onto his form.

Without thinking, you jump into action, pushing Childe away before he can be hit. In the process, the missiles slam into the rock formation above you and it comes tumbling down in a dusty rumble.

Now it’s Childe’s turn to save you and he’s quick on his feet, pulling you away before you can be buried under heavy stone. The two of you tumble and you scrape your arms and legs in the fall, doing all that you can to shield your boyfriend before he seriously injures himself.

A particular sharp piece of rubble slices the length of your arm and while Childe recovers to finish off the Ruin Guard you clutch your injured arm to stop the blood flow.

Once the Ruin Guard is defeated, Childe goes over to you, bending down to get a look at your arm. “It’s definitely going to need some work,” he jokes, hoping to put a smile on your face. “Don’t worry. I’ll have it patched up in no time. You can count on it.”

And while he wraps it up, he thanks you for your help. Without it, he would’ve been the one with more injuries than you. And even though he doesn’t mind getting hurt in a battle he doesn’t want you to injure yourself as well. So next time you want to protect him, make sure you won’t hurt yourself in the process!

[mustardyellowsunshine]

All of Your Pieces

"I love you, I love you

And all of your pieces"

Pieces | Andrew Belle

________________________________

-

Protective

-

"Here."

Kagome startled when a bundle of bright red cloth was abruptly shoved under her nose. She blinked at it for a moment, before her gaze traveled up an extended white-clad arm, across broad shoulders, up to intent grey eyes surrounded by hair so black it nearly blended into the night.

"For... me?" she asked.

A corner of Inuyasha's mouth curved down in a half-scowl. "No, for the rock behind you. Of course you! Who the hell else would I be talking to? "

Too bemused to be offended by his sarcasm, she hesitantly reached up and grasped the suikan he held out to her, noticing as she did his blunted human nails against the fabric. "But," she said tentatively, "won't you be cold?"

He'd already retracted his arm and dropped down to sit on the ground a few feet away from her. He'd just finished building up the fire, which guttered weakly in front of them, already on the verge of going out. It had been raining steadily for most of the day, and though the rain had stopped some hours ago, the ground was still damp. It had taken them ages to find wood that looked dry enough to burn, and even longer to get a flame started. The prospects did not look good for their little campfire, which meant they were in for a long, uncomfortable vigil. The moonless night was dark and chill, and had only just begun.

At her question, Inuyasha merely scoffed. "I'll be fine. Just 'cause I'm human for the night don't mean I'm a complete weakling." His tone was all gruff nonchalance, but the set of his jaw was stiff, and his shoulders looked tense.

Afraid to offend him by refusing it, and much too embarrassed to suggest they share it, Kagome frowned as she slipped the suikan around her shoulders, gripping the edges closed under her chin. "I wasn't suggesting that you were. But even strong humans can get sick in the cold."

"Just shut up and keep it on, will you?" he barked out, sharp and irritated. "The last thing I need tonight is your ass getting sick." His voice trailed off with what sounded like a muttered, "Pathetic woman."

For a moment, she felt a lick of anger, a smarting sort of offense. Her frown deepened, and she opened her mouth to snipe right back—until she noticed the way his eyes kept glancing between her and the quickly-dying fire, between her and its narrowing radius of light, the dark night beginning to hem them in. She saw his jaw clench, watched his hand grip his sword and the minutest movement of his legs as he shifted ever so slightly closer to her.

And she realized all at once that his roughness was not the pompous contempt he pretended it was—it was concern. Deep concern. For her.

He should have been fearing for himself: should have been afraid for his own human body's susceptibility to the elements, worried for his own security against unseen enemies through the long night of his vulnerability.

But perhaps, in his eyes, it was no longer just his night of vulnerability. It was hers, too, and that's what bothered him the most. And for the first time, she began to understand just how deeply her safety mattered to him. How protecting her had gone from a practicality to an instinct, a need.

Just as suddenly as it had come, her anger faded. Closing her lips with a soft sigh, she looked back towards what was left of their campfire. Its smoking embers glowed feebly, and neither she nor Inuyasha made any move to stoke it. She glanced back to the man beside her. He fairly radiated tension, face tight with it, posture utterly rigid as his eyes kept darting between her and their surroundings.

Wordlessly, Kagome scooted across the remaining few feet between them, until her right side was pressed against his left. He startled a little, muscles twitching, but didn't otherwise move. Knowing it was the only comfort she could offer him—wishing she could do more—she slowly leaned her weight against him, resting her head on his shoulder and hooking her elbow through his, her hand sliding down his forearm until it found his larger hand where it rested on his thigh. Not quite brave enough to hold it the way she wanted to, she settled for looping her pinky finger around his. She felt his gaze—warm as a flame—on her face, but she just kept watching the fading embers of the campfire.

When the fire went out and the dark of night rushed over them, she rubbed her cheek against his shoulder and squeezed his arm. A moment later, she felt his finger rub against hers in the barest caress.

They stayed that way until dawn.

________________________________

-

Wild

-

The first time Kagome heard him laugh, all she could do was stare.

She rode on his back, knees clamped on either side of his waist, arms looped around his shoulders. His hair streamed out behind him as he ran, tickling her face when it wasn't dwarfing her completely.

It was early morning, the sun still low in the sky as the half-demon leapt through the trees of an expansive forest. They had just spent the better part of two days holed up in an abandoned hut while a storm raged outside. The entire two days, Inuyasha had prowled around the confines of the hut, apparently unable to sit still and wait it out. He'd paced and grumbled and cursed. The few times she'd managed to coax him into sitting down, or stretching out in his usual careless sprawl, he'd tapped his foot, jiggled his legs, strummed his claws against the ground, flicked his ears—some part of his body in constant motion—the whole time scowling at the wall across the room as though the sheer force of his frustration could end the storm.

Kagome had been about ready to strangle him when the storm finally broke early that morning. Inuyasha had taken one sniff of the air, muttered a relieved "Finally!" and wasted no time slinging her onto his back and taking off through the door.

He ran with extra energy and speed that day, his leaps farther and higher than usual. As a result, his landings were few between and a touch on the reckless side, his feet finding purchase on thin branches, steep ledges, and precarious boulders. The whole time Kagome's stomach felt like it had climbed up into her throat. All she could do was grip his shoulders and keep her eyes fixed on the back of his neck.

Then he'd taken a particularly tall leap, up into the branches of a towering tree near the crest of a hill. He'd paused for a moment on one of its highest branches, foot braced against the bark—then with one powerful push of his legs, he'd launched them both into the air, soaring through the sky. Wind tugged at their hair and clothes, creating the feeling of complete weightlessness. At the peak of the jump there came a moment of breathless exhilaration, when Kagome felt like she was simply floating in midair, the world spread out below her like a pastoral painting, beautiful and remote.

But then the inevitable descent began, and she realized what Inuyasha probably hadn't cared to notice: he'd jumped off the highest peak in the vicinity, and there was nothing of equal height to land on. They were going to have to drop nearly straight to the ground.

The realization took a split second, and then they were falling. Kagome's stomach dropped, her heart stuttered in her chest, and burying her face against Inuyasha's neck, she let out a shrill squeak—there was no other word for it—and gripped his shoulders with all her strength, knees squeezing his waist for dear life. He tightened his grip on her legs, and she felt rather than heard his voice, rumbling through his back, reverberating into her body.

They fell with a speed Kagome would remember in her nightmares. Her heart thudded so hard she thought she’d have a heart attack. Their hair whipped around their heads, silver and black mixing in a waving mass, and wind howled in Kagome’s ears. It was all cold slicing wind and the sensation of plummeting, her stomach shriveling with fear, and—

—suddenly the air was punched out of her lungs, Inuyasha’s shoulder slamming right into her diaphragm (when had she slid up so high?); a hard jolt shuddered all the way through her body, and she would have flown forward over Inuyasha’s shoulder if he hadn’t wrapped a strong arm around her waist, keeping her draped over him. They were still in motion, skidding fast down the slope of a hill. A quick succession of images—tree branches, rock-studded dirt, Inuyasha’s feet, the red of his robes—blurred together, disorienting her. She closed her eyes and struggled to inhale. After a few heaving breaths, she was able to get her breathing somewhat back under control.

They finally slid to a halt, Inuyasha’s torso lurching forward, then snapping back from the momentum. Kagome opened her eyes and was met with the sight of Inuyasha’s waist and legs; his feet were planted firmly apart, toes spread wide in the dirt. She tried to lift herself up, bracing her elbows against the line of his shoulder, and turned her head to look at him.

He was smiling, wide and exhilarated. Adrenaline had brought color to his face and a gleaming spark to his eyes. The sight of him had Kagome sucking in a quiet breath. Any irritation she may have felt, any residual fear from the reckless freefall, melted away in a single moment.

Then he closed his eyes, tilted his head back, and let out a whoop of laughter that echoed through the forest.

And Kagome could only stare, her heart fluttering.

She’d never heard him laugh. Not like that.

She’d heard him jeer at enemies. She’d heard him snicker in contempt or dismissal. Sometimes she’d even heard him snigger at her expense when he thought she’d done something stupid. But never a laugh like that. So carefree. Wild. Completely unguarded.

Then he looked at her, still with that broad boyish smile, the hint of a fang poking out from beneath his lip, and said, “Ready to go again?”

She twisted her fingers into the material of his suikan. She opened her mouth to say “Hell no!” but instead heard herself whispering, “Okay.”

She wanted to keep that smile on his face.

He rapidly moved her to her previous position against his back, and then he was off, leaping high into the air.

And though her stomach roiled, and her limbs quivered, she just pressed her face into his neck and smiled, listening to him laugh.

________________________________

-

Thoughtless

-

“Could you be any more useless?”

Kagome couldn’t get it out of her head. His voice raised, harsh, dismissive.

She pressed her face into her raised knees, hugging her legs against her chest. The tree branches above her swayed in the breeze, leaves fluttering against each other. The sound should have been soothing, but she couldn’t hear anything beyond his voice in her head.

“Are you even trying?”

Her breath hitched. Her throat felt tight.

Of course she was trying. She’d been trying since the day she was thrown into the past. Trying to learn to fight, trying to use miko powers she hadn’t even known she had. Trying to befriend a prickly half-demon who wanted nothing to do with her.

“Could you be any more useless?”

Her arms squeezed more tightly around her body. Sighing against her legs, she turned her head to rest her cheek against her knees.

They’d been fighting, of course. And she’d certainly been just as insulting to him, giving back as good as she got. Even egging him on a bit. Part of Kagome knew he probably didn’t mean it, just as she hadn’t meant half the things she’d said. But remembering that sharp edge in his voice, part of her had to wonder…

She sat under the tree, trying to listen to the wind, watching the light slowly fade in the evening sky. She felt wretchedly alone.

There was a quiet rustle behind her. Lifting her head, she glanced to her right—and there he was. Sitting cross-legged beside her, a few feet away.

He wasn’t looking at her. He stared out into the woods around them, taking as much notice of her as he would a pebble on the ground.

She frowned, opened her mouth to say something. But then she stopped. Maybe it was the tenseness around his eyes. Or the grim line of his lips. Or the way his shoulders were a little hunched, as though waiting for some anticipated blow. Or maybe it was the way his ears were turned in her direction. Trained on her.

Closing her mouth, she lowered her head back down to her legs, watching him next to her in the twilit gloom.

A long stretch of silence passed. Kagome kept watching him—his pale hair almost glowing in the dusk—when finally his gaze cut to her, gold glinting in the starlight. She sucked in a breath. Waited.

He kept his eyes on hers, steady and resolute. Too caught to look away, Kagome lifted her head again. Parted her lips. “Inuyasha… I’m…”

She trailed off, unsure how to continue.

A beat passed. And then he nodded at her. Just a short jerk of his chin. She might have thought she’d imagined it if she hadn’t been paying such close attention.

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded back.

He glanced away, back towards the trees. Kagome couldn’t help but notice that the line of his shoulders looked less strained.

He sat there with her in silence, and she no longer felt alone.

________________________________

-

Jealous

-

"You smell terrible."

Kagome paused in the middle of her dismount from the edge of the Bone Eater’s Well, and glared at the hanyō standing nearby. "Excuse me?!"

It looked like Inuyasha had been lounging against a nearby tree before she arrived. Now he stood a few paces from its trunk, arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face. “You heard me.”

Kagome stepped away from the Well and approached him, clenching the straps of her backpack hard. She frowned and snapped, “What’s gotten into you?”

The hanyō leaned forward, took a loud exaggerated sniff, and growled, “What’s gotten on you? Your time ain’t exactly fragrant, but this downright reeks.”

“I do not reek!”

“You do.”

“Do not!”

“Yeah? And which one of us has the yōkai nose?”

Kagome’s face heated, and an unwelcome twinge of self-consciousness leached away some of her ire. She hadn’t exactly taken the time to bathe before she came back…. resisting the urge to sniff at herself, Kagome opened her mouth, closed it, and finally huffed out in a blustery sigh, “You are completely insufferable sometimes!”

She turned on her heel, heading towards the direction of the village, but stopped when he called out, “And here I thought you went back home for your tests. Tch! Lying bitch.”

Spine going completely rigid, Kagome slowly turned back around. Her blistering glare would’ve sent anyone else scurrying for cover. “What did you say?”

But Inuyasha had never had the good sense to back away from a fight, and had never had any sense when it came to the girl in front of him. “I said,” he repeated slowly, punctuating each word with a step towards her, “That you’re a lying bitch.”

Kagome walked forward to meet him, getting right up in his space and jabbing a finger into his chest. “I don’t know what your problem is, Inuyasha, but let’s make one thing clear.” Reaching up and grabbing a lock of his hair, Kagome tugged on it hard, making him snarl. “I’ve never lied to you! Not ever! What exactly are you suggesting that I do at home, huh? It’s not like I’m running away to goof off! I have serious things to do there too, you know!”

The sneer that lifted his upper lip had her blood boiling. “Sure,” he said, voice dripping in cynicism, “things. That’s why you smell like that.”

She grit her teeth, practically snarling herself. “Like what?!”

He leaned in an inch, and she was suddenly aware of how much taller he was than her, his body practically dwarfing hers. She wouldn’t let herself take a step back, though, and continued glaring up at him, fingers still tight around his hair.

There was no mistaking the animalistic aggression in his tone when he bit out, “Like some bastard has been all over you.”

Kagome frowned, blinked. “Huh?”

Inuyasha lifted his chin, eyes narrowed nearly to slits, and exhaled harshly through his nostrils. “You reek of some… some…” he floundered for a beat, then snarled, “some weakling boy.”

It took Kagome a few seconds to process that. Then realization struck, and before she could really think better of it, she murmured a quiet, “Oh.”

His face tightened, and he stared at her a moment. “Yeah,” he replied, “fucking oh. I’ve been waiting here for days, thinking you were at your school, and instead you were,” he faltered again, and flapped his hands angrily in her direction, “running around with some boy—”

Kagome’s hand released its grip on his hair and dropped down to clutch gently at his sleeve.

“—and it’s not like I fucking care, because I don’t, but if you’re leaving just to spend time with that,” he bit off the next word, growled low, “then you damn well should’ve had the decency to say so—”

Kagome stepped a little closer into his space. He didn’t seem to notice.

“—and I’ll tell you right now, Kagome, I ain’t gonna tolerate you running home just for him, got it? Your responsibilities here matter more than that little—”

“Inuyasha.”

Her voice was calm and quiet—no trace of anger or frustration—and that more than anything made the hanyō pause, eyes still narrowed on her face. When her lips started to twitch up at the corners, he growled, “Oi, you think this is funny? Hell, Kagome, if you think for a second that I’m just gonna let—”

Her hand tugged on his sleeve. “Inuyasha,” she repeated.

His mouth twisted, and he barked, “What?!”

“You have nothing to worry about. The person you’re smelling is just a classmate.”

Inuyasha’s lip curled ever so slightly, features still tense. “A classmate?” he repeated, an echo of that cynical timbre returning to his voice. “That sure as hell doesn’t explain why his scent is all over you.”

Seemingly unaware of the movement, his hand reached over and gripped her forearm where she was clutching at his sleeve. As he spoke, it slowly skimmed down her arm to lightly circle her wrist, his thumb resting against the heel of her palm.

Warmth suffused her stomach at the touch. She tilted her head, her gaze steady on his. “You know my grandpa’s been making up excuses for me at school, right? Everyone there thinks I’ve been sick. Like, really sick.” She sighed with mild chagrin, thinking of the ludicrous illnesses her grandfather had been coming up with. Then shaking her head, she continued, “When Hōjō saw me after class, he was just glad to see me doing all right. He gave me a hug. That’s all.”

Inuyasha’s eyes were still narrowed, but the longer he looked at her—her expression so open and calm—the tension began easing from his posture, his shoulders relaxing. Finally he snorted, nose wrinkling. “A hug, huh?” When she nodded, he grumbled without much heat, “Must’ve been one long-ass hug, then.”

Kagome felt her cheeks heat again, and her smile was somewhat embarrassed. “Um, yeah. It, uh, it was pretty awkward. Hōjō isn’t the best at picking up social cues.”

At the hint of discomfort in her tone, Inuyasha paused, watching her. Whatever he saw, it seemed to reassure him, because his face lost all its stiffness and the scowl cleared away. But he was frowning slightly when he said, “Oi. If you didn’t like it, you should’ve just stopped him.”

Kagome shrugged. “I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. Not all of us enjoy being rude, you know?”

Inuyasha’s hand tugged gently on her wrist, drawing her closer. “If you don’t want someone touching you, just say so. Ain’t nothing wrong with that.” He brought up his free hand and flexed his fingers slightly, showing off his claws. “Or I can do it for you, if you want. Just point me at the bastard.”

Kagome bit her lip to keep from smiling at the gruff sincerity of the offer. “Hm, I’ll let you know if I need you.”

They stared at each other for a moment. Then Kagome slid her wrist from his grasp, only to replace it with her hand. She threaded her fingers through his, pressing their palms tightly together. At his bemused—and vaguely flushed—look, she smiled and said, “Let’s go.”

She pulled him by the hand towards the village, delighting in the feeling of his fingers curling around hers.

________________________________

-

Kind

-

"You know, if you're not careful, your face will freeze that way."

Inuyasha's menacing glower turned Kagome’s direction, followed quickly by a snarled, "The fuck are you talking about?"

Teeth gritted, eyes narrowed and furious, ears laid flat against his head, he looked on the verge of exploding. Kagome sighed. "Never mind."

With a muttered "Tch," the hanyō returned his attention to cleaning his sword, which was proving to be an exercise in futility. Thick, viscous yōkai innards of an indeterminable brown color—blood? bile? mucus? some form of stomach acid? it was impossible to tell exactly what that gunk was—coated Tetsusaiga from point to hilt. Inuyasha had spent a good ten minutes trying to clean it off, but had only managed to spread it around, smearing long sticky streaks along his hands and the sleeves of his suikan.

The consistency of the stuff reminded Kagome of superglue, which didn't bode well for Inuyasha's efforts. She wasn't going to tell him that, though.

Sighing again, she seated herself on the ground and watched him try to remove the slime from his sword by wiping it on the grass, scraping it against the bark of nearby trees, and even swinging it through the air with all his might, as though sheer brute force would propel the mess off.

"Was that stinking eel made of slime? Dammit!" Inuyasha slammed Tetsusaiga point-down into the ground and dropped to a crouch next to it. She could see a muscle in his jaw working even from where she sat.

Poor guy. It had been a rough day. They were two weeks into a shard-hunting expedition, and they hadn't found a single shard—or even the rumor of one—until that morning, when Kagome had faintly sensed the Shikon's power, like the minutest flutter in the back of her mind. But faint as it was, she'd struggled to pinpoint where it was coming from. They'd had several false starts, spending hours traveling in a direction only for Kagome to realize it wasn't quite the right way, or that they’d somehow veered off course. By that afternoon, even Kagome's frustration was getting to her. She could only imagine how Inuyasha felt doing all the leg work. He surprised her, though, and didn't say a word about it; he just silently went wherever Kagome directed him to go.

After half the day running near-aimlessly around the countryside, they'd finally hit on the right direction. The pull of the shard grew stronger and stronger, eventually leading them to sprawling swamplands swarmed by biting flies, littered with stagnant pools of water, and dotted with more than one human corpse in various stages of decay.

And the smell. Like sulfur and the mineral tang of mud mixed with rotting flesh. Inuyasha had looked downright queasy, covering his nose with his sleeve and grimly muttering, "Let's get this over with quick."

Kagome tracked the shard through the mire, shoes slipping and sliding in the sludge; she did her best to steer them around the stagnant pools whenever possible, but they'd both been forced to wade through muck up to their knees when they ran out of solid ground to walk on. The trail of the Shikon's power led them deep into the swamp, and finally ended at the largest pool of standing water they’d yet seen, the size of a small lake. The pull of the shard was coming from its center.

Kagome had only just lifted her arm to point towards the lake when a giant plume of water shot up from its depths. In the midst of that plume reared the massive, sinuous brown body of an eel. Kagome immediately saw the glow of the Shikon shard lodged in its jaw, buried behind rows of sharp teeth as long as her forearm.

Inuyasha hadn't waited for it to make a second move: he launched himself forward, Tetsusaiga raised with both arms, a hoarse shout ripping from his throat.

Under normal circumstances, Kagome doubted the eel would have presented much of a challenge; it was about the size of Mistress Centipede, an enemy Inuyasha had torn apart with nothing but his claws. But this yōkai had a distinct advantage over them: they weren't on solid ground. Inuyasha wasn't able to get traction in the swampy mud, which meant his jumps weren't as high, his landings sloppy, and his movements slower.

Which is probably why the yōkai was able to land a glancing blow on Kagome. The eel darted forward, jaws wide and ready to snap down on flesh; Inuyasha jumped out of its path, but quick as a flash it changed course, veering at an angle towards Kagome, where she’d been standing with bow at the ready. With a shriek, she leapt aside as quickly as she could, but one of those long teeth caught her arm, dragging up from her elbow all the way to her shoulder.

She’d barely registered the stinging, burning sensation in her arm when she heard Inuyasha’s ragged bellow.

“Stay the fuck away from her, you piece of shit!”

She didn’t see him move, but she heard his wordless yell; saw a spear of sunlight glint off Tetsusaiga’s blade as it arched down; felt the spray of water on her face as the eel violently writhed, Tetsusaiga imbedded into the flesh below its head.

Even injured, the yōkai’s body—pure sinuous muscle—flailed with such ferocity that it threw Inuyasha off his feet. He was able to hold onto Tetsusaiga’s hilt, dragging the sword with him as he was hurled into the ground. The eel reared and darted towards him.

“No!” Kagome roared, already standing and drawing her bow. Ignoring the burning in her arm, she drew an arrow back and released. It lodged deep into the eel’s left eye, her spiritual power flaring as the arrow hit, burning half its face.

Half-blinded and almost certainly mortally wounded, Kagome thought it was nearly over. But she’d forgotten: cornered animals are at their most dangerous when they’re most desperate. The eel’s tail lashed out from the water and shot forward with terrifying speed. Kagome tried to dodge, but wasn’t fast enough: its tail caught the edge of her uninjured shoulder and sent her flying through the air. She landed on her side in the muck, skidding a few yards before the boggy ground stopped her momentum.

Dimly, through the throbbing pain she now felt pulsing through her muscles, Kagome found herself grateful for the water-saturated quagmire. If she’d landed on solid ground, she’d probably have some broken bones right about now.

“Kagome!!”

She lifted her head a few inches, cracking her eyes open.

In the time it had taken her to hit the ground, Inuyasha had put himself between her and the yōkai. Half-turned towards her, he had Tetsusaiga pointed at the eel while he looked at her over his shoulder.

His expression was downright murderous.

“You okay?” he rasped through the snarl twisting his features.

When she gave a brief nod, he turned his full attention back to the eel. “What did I say about getting near her?” The lethal calm with which he asked the question nearly had a shiver going down Kagome’s spine.

Inuyasha raised Tetsusaiga—then planted it point-first into the ground next to him. Lifting both his hands, he flexed his fingers, knuckles cracking. “For you, motherfucker? I’m gonna use my hands.”

Then he was leaping forward with a low, guttural shout. Claws connected with flesh, biting deep. He sliced clean through the yōkai’s body, at the same spot he’d injured earlier. Blood sprayed into the air.

The length of the eel’s body slumped into the lake with a tremendous splash, slithering down under the foam, disappearing from view. The head fell in the other direction, towards the boggy shore. It landed in a clump of springy weeds, rolling for a few feet before coming to a halt in a patch of mud.

Inuyasha stood in swamp water up to his waist, looking at his blood-stained hand with a wrinkled nose and an almost pouting expression, as though already wondering how long it would take to get rid of the smell. Seeing it, Kagome couldn’t help the (admittedly pained) giggle that broke from her lips as she sat upright.

Inuyasha’s gaze went straight to her, and the rest of him quickly followed. He dropped to a crouch next to her, eyes skimming her body for injury. “You okay, Kagome?”

She took a moment to assess. She patted her abdomen, around her ribs; she slowly moved her hands and feet, arms and legs; she rolled her shoulders, especially the one that had been hit. Her muscles were definitely twinging, and the cut on her arm still stung, but... “I think I’m mostly okay. I’m just going to be really sore tomorrow.” She winced as she stretched her shoulder. “And probably bruised.”

Inuyasha’s eyes landed on her cut arm. He scowled. “We need to clean that up.” Vigorously rubbing his hands in the patchy swamp grass—wiping off as much of the eel blood as he could—he then slipped his arms beneath Kagome’s knees and around her shoulders, hefting her up against his chest. Pausing to scan the area around them, he mumbled, “Where’s your damn backpack?”

“Uh,” Kagome swiveled her head around, then pointed over Inuyasha’s shoulder. “There! I put it down when we reached the lake.”

Inuyasha started moving in that direction, but Kagome smacked the back of her hand lightly against his chest and said, “Hey, wait!”

Glaring at her, Inuyasha kept moving. “No. That cut could get infected. We need to take care of it now.”

“But—”

“Now wench, now.”

She sighed, her breath ruffling the ends of her bangs. “Okay, so you don’t want to collect the jewel shard, then?”

He stilled. Then he glanced over at the yōkai’s head where it lay in the mud; glanced back at her, the oblique set of his brows almost calculating. Releasing a loud, annoyed exhale, he turned back towards the eel’s head.

Kagome grinned up at him. “I can’t believe you almost forgot the shard.”

“Shut it.”

“Aww, don’t be embarrassed! It’s sweet that you were so worried about me.”

Color suffused the skin along the bridge of his nose. “Keh! I just need you in working order. You’re useless to me otherwise.”

“Of course,” she agreed, nodding solemnly. “I believe you, Inuyasha.”

He mumbled some curse word or other under his breath. When they reached the decapitated yōkai head, he gently set Kagome on her feet. She kneeled down, felt for the shard with her power, then pointed at a spot behind the eel’s gaping jaw. “It’s in there. Could you…?”

Inuyasha used one of his claws to slice open the flesh behind the rows of teeth. Then Kagome—visibly shuddering and chanting “ew, ew, ew!” to herself—probed with her fingers until she found the shard. She pulled it out, holding it up for Inuyasha to see. “We did it!”

“Uh-huh, great.” He scooped her up into his arms and leapt over to where her backpack lay on the ground. “Now we clean this.”

He sat her down on a large rock, then slid his hand under her elbow, lifting her injured arm up for closer inspection. “You got lucky,” he said, a slight growl underpinning the words, clearly still bothered that it had happened at all. “It’s not very deep. Won’t need stitches.” He considered her arm for a moment longer, then said, “Right, first thing’s first.” With his free hand, he used his claws to cut her sleeve off at the shoulder.

“Hey!” she cried as he pulled the shorn sleeve carefully down her arm and off her wrist. “These uniforms aren’t cheap, you know! I’m going to have to replace this.”

“It was ripped anyway.”

She pursed her lips, a sullen slant to her mouth. “I could’ve mended it.”

“Tough shit,” he said. “It’ll be in my way, and you don’t need loose threads getting stuck in the wound.”

She couldn’t exactly fault his logic, but she pouted anyway, fingering the sleeve now laying in her lap. Inuyasha bent over to rummage through her backpack. He pulled out the things he remembered seeing Kagome use before—cotton dressings, antiseptic spray, alcohol wipes, gauze. He picked up the package of alcohol wipes, sniffed at it, then made a face. Still, he took out a wipe and began cleaning his hands with it, even taking the time to get under his claws.

Kagome watched him, completely fascinated.

Tossing the used wipe into her backpack, he uncapped the antiseptic spray and held it up to her arm. “Ready?”

Biting her lip, Kagome nodded.

He sprayed the length of her arm, thoroughly coating the cut and the surrounding skin. She tensed up, and released a soft hissing breath. He frowned and mumbled, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she replied. “Just stings.”

He used a piece of cotton dressing to wipe off the skin around her cut. His hands were so gentle, his fingers exerting a barely-there pressure around her elbow. Each swipe of the cotton was slow and almost cautious.

And the look on his face — Kagome couldn’t tear her eyes away. He was so intent, so focused, and yet there was a quiet, almost serene quality to his attention. She wondered if she’d ever seen him look so absorbed before. Certainly never so absorbed by her, anyway.

Kagome blushed a little at the thought.

Finally, Inuyasha had the wound cleaned to his satisfaction. Selecting two more strips of clean cotton dressing, he placed them carefully along the length of her arm, over the top of the cut. Then, unwinding the roll of gauze, he began wrapping her arm.

When he’d finished, he appraised his work by running a hand along the bandaged portion of her arm.

It shouldn’t have felt like a caress, Kagome thought, and yet…

Face heating up, Kagome coughed. Startled out of his concentration, Inuyasha shot her a swift glance. Noting the pink in her cheeks, and the way she kept looking at his hand where it still gripped her elbow, Inuyasha flushed. Abruptly dropping her arm, he took a big step back and shoved his hands into his sleeves.

“T-there. Don’t have to worry about your pathetic human body getting infected now.”

She couldn’t help but smile at his flustered frown, the way his ears kept twitching atop his head. “Thank you, Inuyasha,” she murmured, resting her hand on her bandaged arm.

He flicked an ear back at her. She didn’t expect him to respond, so was surprised when she heard a quiet “You’re welcome” drift over to her.

It was, Kagome thought, a wonderful moment.

Until Inuyasha glanced over to where he’d left Tetsusaiga impaled in the ground. And finally registered the thick layer of slime oozing down its blade.

It had pretty much gone downhill from there.

Leave it to a swamp demon to totally ruin a good moment.

Now safely on the outskirts of the swamp—Inuyasha hadn’t wanted to stay there a moment longer, not even to clean Tetsusaiga—the hanyō was glaring at his slimed sword as though it was flipping him the middle finger. His glower was beginning to take on a suspiciously sulky edge.

Poor guy. Sighing and casting her gaze to the side, she noticed her backpack sitting beside her. She blinked. Wait…

“Inuyasha,” Kagome called.

He was still glowering at his sword, jaw tightly clenched.

“Inuyasha,” she said again, injecting the word with a cheery lilt to get his attention.

He shifted his glare to her. “Not now, woman.”

“But—”

“Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“Doing what?”

“Thinkin’!”

“Hm,” she intoned, “so you don’t want help cleaning off Tetsusaiga, then?”

“What the hell are you—” His invective was cut off when Kagome tossed him the package of alcohol wipes.

He caught it easily, eyebrows lifting as he stared at it. “What…”

“The alcohol in the wipes should help break up that sticky stuff. Theoretically, anyway.” When he looked at her, she shrugged. “It’s gotta be better than scraping it against a tree, right?”

Inuyasha hesitated, glanced at his sword. Without looking at her, he took out a wipe and began rubbing it against the side of the blade. After several long moments, he pulled it away to reveal a small clean patch of steel.

Kagome beamed.

“Erm,” Inuyasha mumbled, darting a quick look her way. He applied the alcohol wipe to the blade again, rubbing away at the slime. Without looking at her, he said quietly, “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, Inuyasha.”

________________________________

-

Loyal

-

He stood at the door of Kaede’s hut, his head bowed.

“I’m sorry.”

He aimed his voice over his shoulder. To her, where she sat inside by the hearthfire. Her heart wrenched in her chest at the defeated ache in his voice.

“I know,” she whispered.

He lingered there a moment longer, clawed hand gripping the doorframe tightly. “Kagome, I… I’m…”

“I know,” she said again. “Go. You should see her.”

His knuckles turned white against the wood, but he nodded.

Taking a step out past the door, he halted long enough to say, “I’ll be back, Kagome. Just… trust me, all right?” Then he was gone.

She knew. And she waited for him.

________________________________

-

Gentle

-

Kagome woke with a frightened gasp, disoriented in the dark. Panting, she stared up at the starry sky and tried to reacclimate to reality.

“Oi.”

Jerking up to her elbow, she looked across the glowing embers of their earlier campfire and saw Inuyasha sitting there, holding his sheathed sword in the crook of his elbow, watching her with a frown.

“Inuyasha,” she whispered. “You startled me.”

“You were lookin’ pretty startled already. Smelled it, too.”

“Oh,” she replied, plopping back down onto her sleeping bag. She took a deep breath to settle her heart rate. “Yeah. I had a nightmare.”

She heard him shifting around. “About what?”

“Oh, um…” She took another, smaller breath and closed her eyes. “Nothing really important.”

A beat of silence. More shifting, the soft rustle of cloth. Then his voice, much closer. “Tell me,” he said.

She opened her eyes and saw him above her. He’d moved to sit right next to her, his thigh almost brushing the crown of her head. She could see his face so clearly now, the soft play of firelight warming his features. And he was looking down at her with concern, eyes nearly gilt in the dim light.

There could be no resistance to that look. “I dreamed,” she said slowly, “that I was stuck somewhere dark. Enclosed. And I was… alone.” She curled onto her side, drawing her knees up to her chest. “I couldn’t get out. I called for help, but nobody could hear me. Nobody came. I was just…”

She swallowed thickly and tried again. “I was just alone in the dark.”

She waited, listening to the soft snap of the dying embers.

Then she felt fingers slide into her hair, combing gently through the strands.

“It won’t happen,” rumbled his voice above her, his fingers weaving through her hair again and again. “You’re safe, Kagome. I promise.”

Taking another deep breath, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back into his touch. “Say… say it again.”

His fingers paused in her hair. Moved to graze along her cheek, down to her jaw, until he had her face cradled in his hand.

“You’re safe with me, Kagome,” he said. “I’ll protect you. I’m not going anywhere.”

It was like he’d taken something heavy off the very center of her chest. She could breathe again.

She placed her hand over his, smiled for him. “I know. And I’ll protect you too, okay?”

His mouth tugged up in answer. He ran his thumb across her lip, tracing her smile. “I know,” he said.

[babybamf]

Meeting and Dating Warren Worthington III

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

(We’re just gonna throw together a little au, alright?)

- You met Warren after Xavier brought him back to the school. Most people stayed away from him and rightfully so; he had teamed up with a malicious god and was partially responsible for the destruction of your school.

- You’d stayed away as well, which is what he seemed to want. He wasn’t exactly putting himself out there to make friends, not with his glaring and standoffish demeanor.

- A part of you figured that he really didn’t want people around him. That, no, he wasn’t just being “cruelly” ostracized by his peers; he was actively and consciously making sure people stayed away.

- But then another part of you reasoned that few people had actually attempted to get close to him, and to be fair, you hadn’t liked those people either.

- You’d contemplated going up and introducing yourself. In fact, you’d tried to, taking a deep breath and maneuvering your way across the school grounds towards him with that exact idea in mind. But the minute you came almost close enough to throw away any doubt that you were approaching him, he’d looked up at you with such cold and venomous fervor that you’d lost your nerve.

- Instead, you’d; thankfully, managed to continue on walking and coincidentally run into a younger student that you’d known, making it seem like that was your intention all along. You decided that day that Warren Worthington just hated people and you shouldn’t interfere with that.

- That would have been the end of it, and at the time you wished that it was, but that wasn’t the case. The moment you walked past the boy, it was like you’d painted a target on your forehead.

- Everywhere you went, Warren Worthington was there to stare at you from across the way. He’d set his sights on you and you weren’t sure which emotion was behind his gaze, though you were pretty sure it wasn’t one of the good ones.

- It took a few months of this, and you wondering if he was planning on killing you, for anything to actually happen.

- You’d been sitting in the lunchroom, reading a book when you heard the rooms chatter die down. There, at the entrance, stood Warren.

- He scanned the room, his eyes landing on you; much more passively than most other times, before moving to the nearly empty table across from yours. He made his way towards it, unfazed by the students who’d been occupying it scrambling to leave, and soon enough he was seated a few yards away with a perfect view of you.

- You tried to ignore him, turning to the book you’d brought in hopes of just forgetting he was there. Although, it was easier said than done when you could feel his eyes on you.

- More than once, you’d glanced over and caught him watching you; albeit it a bit more casually than usual. You wondered if he’d specifically come into the room just to look at you, you’d never seen him inside before; and he wasn’t eating, so you had to assume so.

- Finally, you turned back to your book and promised yourself you wouldn’t look at him, no matter how much your body was screaming for you to. The monkey part of you brain told you that this was a test and that averting your eyes was the proper move to make; so you made it ...up until you could feel someone standing in front of/at your side.

“I’m Warren,” Boy were you not expecting him to be British. His voice was like honey, even though there was a twinge of; what seemed to be, discomfort to it. He seemed out of his element. “I’ve seen you around. You’re Y/n, right?”

“Yeah uh, yeah, that’s right. ...Hi.” You answered nervously. He nodded and a long moment of silence passed between the two of you before he asked if he could sit down.

- It was awkward at first but then he asked you about a band and you started a near hour long discussion about music.

- Soon enough you were talking like it was a normal thing to happen, up until you were interrupted by a peer who told you that someone wanted to see you. You excused yourself and walked away, feeling more confident now that you knew you weren’t going to be murdered.

- Warren was sort of like a changed person after your first few initially awkward conversations; at least he was to you. He was still his intimidating self to everyone else but you; and in some regards Storm, seemed to be an exception.

- After a few weeks of you slowly seeing more and more of each other, he finally decided it was time to ask you out like he’d been intending all along. Well, he asked you out in his own way.

- It was late, he’d caught your attention with a “psst” and a flash of a bottle of liquor and motioned for you to follow him as he led the two of you outside. You soon found yourself sitting with him in the dark of the night, taking swigs from the bottle he’d snuck with you.

- You caught him watching you while you brought the bottle to your lips, taking a small gulp before moving to pass it back, only to be met with his face close to yours and his hand sliding onto your cheek. It was a matter of seconds before his lips were on yours but that short moment of anticipation had your heart racing.

- You spent the rest of the night talking and kissing and by morning you were official.

- Soo much Pda. He’s constantly touching you and trying to get you to kiss him.

- He loves when you kiss him. Surprise him with a little smooch; you’ll never see anyone look more in love than he will.

- Hand kisses.

- His hand in your back pocket.

- His arm wrapped around you constantly.

- Warren alternates between only calling you pet names and only calling you your name. When he is using pet names, he’ll call you things like babe, birdie, and love.

- He’s surprisingly loving considering how violent he used to be. You don’t expect it at first but he’s absolutely adorable when he’s around you.

- The instant he sees you, his day gets 100x better. Even if his face just goes from glaring to neutral whenever his eyes land on you, rest assured that his bad mood goes away the minute you appear.

- He’s always incredibly gentle whenever he puts his hands on you with innocent intent, like when he’s pushing your hair back or helping you put in an earring.

- He’s definitely affection starved and heartclenchingly so. You’ll go to gently touch his face for one reason or another and he’ll act like he’s never felt something better in his life.

- Cuddling is a bit difficult with the whole wing thing but you try your best. Sometimes you’ll just lay side by side and hold hands, other times he’ll cocoon the two of you while you lay on top of him, and other times he’ll lay down and you’ll just snuggle yourself into him the best that you can.

- Going flying. He rarely goes really high up with you in his arms, he himself is afraid he’ll accidentally drop you or you’ll get hurt in some other way.

- Stargazing or watching the sunset/rise on roofs of buildings.

- Sneaking out to spend time with each other away from everyone else.

- Blasting rock music as you drive through town.

- Abandoned building picnics? Abandoned building picnics. What’s better than being able to destroy everything around you and not being bothered by anyone.

- Nighttime walks around town. He sorta likes just wandering around the city with you.

- Helping him shop for clothes that will actually fit him, or helping him cut holes into his clothing.

- He’s grown to love his wings over the years so he always straightens up with pride whenever you compliment or touch them.

- Hickeys.

- Constant making out. He can’t get enough of you.

- Groping, blatantly too, just right in the middle of the street or hallway.

- Innuendos that make you blush.

- You’re either treated like a queen or being harassed like you’re dating a horny teenager. There is no in between.

- Kissing his scars.

- Occasionally, he’ll tell you stories about his fighting days. He finds it amusing to watch your face change whenever he recounts something particularly painful or malicious.

- He’s been known to get drunk for several different reasons so you’ll just have to find out which one it is while making sure he doesn’t die from alcohol poisoning or any dumbass decision he may make while wasted.

- Sharing booze.

- He probably has a tattoo of you or your name somewhere on his body. He’s a reckless person; it fits the vibe.

- He loves people knowing that the two of you are together, he’s so proud.

- Sooo many compliments.

- Sarcasm and affectionate name calling.

- He always gives you the cutest smile and a kiss on the cheek whenever you get him a gift.

- As surprising as it may be; considering the way he acts, he’s genuinely charming; and his face isn’t that bad either. He’s capable of making literally any girl swoon yet he still feels lucky to have you in his life.

- I feel like Warren just doesn’t like people and probably for a number of reasons. With that being said, he prefers to keep to himself, though he’ll tolerate social events; and your friends, for your sake.

- Warren is the type of boyfriend that would rather be seen than heard. Sure he loves talking with you, but he would rather listen to you talk instead of actually talking himself.

- With that being said, he can talk your ear off whenever he gets angry or jealous, wanting nothing more than to divert your attention from everything else and make you focus on only him.

- He’s a pretty jealous guy. He hates seeing other men around you, especially if it seems like you’re really close or that the guy has a thing for you.

- He’s definitely fought a man for flirting with or disrespecting you. The man does not play when it comes to you.

- Whenever the two of you fight, he’ll turn into the biggest sarcastic asshole that you will ever see. That being said, he’ll never yell at you unless you’re walking away from him and he’s calling after you in exasperation.

- If he’s in the wrong then he’ll apologize; albeit slightly begrudgingly. He isn’t very used to it so bear with him, he’s trying his best.

- He doesn’t tell you he loves you very often but you’ll definitely be able to tell that he does, especially as your relationship progresses.

- Though he may not vocally express it, he doesn’t intend on giving you up any time soon so let’s hope you’re in it for the long run.