#so it made the internal battle I had going on even worse because for so many months for so long I was also at odds with people I trusted

[the-sunshine-dragon]

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[yesimwriting]

Heyy ya!! Hwo you doing? I wanted to ask maybe you can write Coriolanus x reader when he gets to district after just finishing training for pacekeepers, or maybe where his tribute just arrived to the capitol and the reader maybe says the “what does my mentor do besides bring me roses?” Line? ❤️

A/n the turn around for this was so fast for me 😭 i got excited

hi!! i love these prompts and am so glad for the excuse to write something for him 😭,, also i didn't blatantly make the reader the district 12 tribute bc i didn't want to necessarily cute lucy gray out all together, but it's clear that she's from a poorer district and that being assigned to mentor her is an insult to the Snow name,, also reader pulls a katniss and volunteers for a younger family member bc the irony of that scratches an inch in my brain

Summary: After the very public slight of being assigned to mentor a female tribute from a lower district, all Snow can think about is the uphill battle that winning the Plinth prize will now be. Until, he realizes, that he's been given the first ever district volunteer who seems to have a quality that makes people care about her.

Warnings: my first time writing for a specific character, Coriolanus's internal thoughts are a little softer than they should be at some points but i love the accidental and deeply impractical crush trope so

---

Of Angels

The desperation masquerading as fierceness behind her eyes is undeniable. Coriolanus feels the way your panic, your shock as the weight of your own words dawn on you in his chest. He swallows, forcing down the feeling.

Take me--take me instead! The phrase is repeated again and again, shaky and pleading.

Something about the display, about the 12-year-old girl that desperately tries to cling to you as peace keepers push you forward, makes it hard to watch. Even worse, it makes it impossible to look away.

The first ever district volunteer. A suicide mission or a--a desperate call for attention? A decision made out of hysteria that you're already starting to regret?

He can't decide as the footage of you being ushered onto stage is played. Surely, Dr. Gaul and other Capitol officials won't find this acceptable. The concept of volunteering has always been reserved for the careers, the districts that produce well fed children that train for this. It's a way to allow them to pick their best, their strongest. It is not a way for someone to lay down their life for someone else.

"Are you saying you volunteer?"

You blink, eyes wild and bright as you openly survey the crowd. Coriolanus briefly thinks that you might attempt to take what he doubts is an actual out. You seem to be considering something before finally nodding once. The motion so stiff it makes you look smaller, like the girl whose name was originally called.

"Yes," you mumble. The softness of it is a personal accost. Your choice was made in panic, but that isn't who you are. You're not much of a performer or a fighter or even bold...you're not much of a chance at the Plinth Prize. "I-I volunteer."

----

In the end, he had come because of Tigris. She had insisted that there was a way to see his tribute as more than just another face from the districts, as more human than animal.

She loves that little girl enough to die in her place. If I was her, I'd want someone to tell me that my choice meant something. I'd want someone to show that they care about me.

The words had felt dismissible at first, but the more he thought about them, the more it made sense. Panem had seen the entire thing, had seen the way that his tribute continued to comfort the younger girl even after sentencing herself to death. There's a story worthy of a show in that.

If he can convince you to go on camera, to speak of the girl, of the choice...maybe he'd have a chance at his future. And if the public support manages to help you in some way or another, that'd only be an additional benefit. You love that girl enough to die for her, maybe that means you love her enough to fight tooth and nail to live for her as well.

The train that stops at each district pulls to a stop. The doors open, releasing the sound of tributes that are learning the consequences of attempting to cause issues for the peacekeepers.

A boy he vaguely recognizes steps out, and then a younger girl. Are you one of the tributes already risking their lives in an attempt to aggravate peacekeepers? Or maybe you're cowering at the back of the train, clinging onto the safety of a familiar space.

You prove to be neither. You emerge from the train, perfectly in tact and stable.

Coriolanus parts his lips, yet no words manage to come out. You're different in person, the white you're dressed in is objectively dirtier than it was when you were reaped and yet somehow, here in the dim, gray station it feels brighter. A stray beam of sunlight breaking through a cluster of clouds. A promise that the storm will end soon and that the angels have yet to abandon the earth.

Your dress is a simple thing, loose enough to be a hand-me-down or maybe even borrowed, the lace of the skirt falling farther down your knees than it should. That paired with the ribbon scraps tied to each side of your head make you look younger and cruelly innocent.

"Hello." The blandness of his own beginning forces a burning sort of regret to take over his chest. You attentively turn, expression kind and expecting. It only makes the embarrassment he doesn't fully understand scorch him from the inside out with more violence. He's once again struck with the desire to look away and finding himself incapable of doing so. "My name is Coriolanus Snow, and I'm your mentor."

You nod, features hardening. You've pieced it all together--his appearance, what he's saying, and where you are. He's revealed himself as part of the Capitol and now you can no longer watch him with kind, accepting eyes. The look you're giving him is almost enough to make him wish he could have presented this differently.

Coriolanus extends an arm, the carefully chosen pure white rose an olive branch. You blink, eyebrows drawing together before you slowly reach out and take the flower by its stem. Your fingertips brush against his own, the warmth of your skin is so shocking he has to remind himself not to flinch.

"A mentor?" You repeat the word like your only reason for doing so is to try out the foreign word on your tongue. "Does everyone get one or am I just lucky?" You look down at the rose you're now holding. "Or has the rumor that I'm a rebellion trick spread to the Capitol?"

The last question genuinely surprises him. It shouldn't, there had been some talk about why anyone from a poor district would ever choose to go into the games. The way you and the girl you saved reacted to each other could have been staged...but Coriolanus didn't think it was enough to warrant genuine rumors. Anyone that had looked at your eyes and seen the fear in them would have known that it was sacrifice. Is sacrifice. That girl means the world to you.

"No," he starts slowly, "No, everyone gets one and no one here has any preconceptions about you."

You raise your eyebrows, making it clear that you don't believe him. No preconceptions had been a strong way to phrase things, but the urge to assure you had taken over with no warning. You then look away, glancing around to take in your surroundings.

"Then why isn't there..." You trail off, your gaze landing firmly on him. "You're not supposed to be here."

He blinks. For the first time, it feels like you're truly looking at him. His own susceptibility to your wide eyes turns his stomach. You're the one that should feel like something up for display under his stare. "No, I'm not."

The admission forces the edge of your lips to pull upwards. "Alright," you hum, "So what does my mentor do for me besides bring me roses?"

"I do my best to take care of you."

For a second, all you do is stare. He's surprised you. The realization brings him more relief than it should. "The girl who you volunteered for..."

You tilt your head downwards, hiding your expression as your fingers carefully toy with the exterior of the soft petals. "My cousin," the explanation is low, cautious, "But we uh--we're more like sisters."

An in that he doesn't even have to work for. "I understand that." You look up, not bothering to hide your confusion. Maybe you weren't expecting something so human to come out. Maybe human works for you. "During the war, we took care of each other...and then after our parents passed, we were left in the care of our grandmother."

The silence that follows is tight, straining against the sympathies you're not willing to extend to someone like him. Your lips part, and Coriolanus is disgusted by the part of him that's curious about what's going to come next.

You're pushed back with no warning. His attention snaps towards the peacekeeper who is shoving against your shoulder with more force than necessary.

"Excuse--" No reaction, no response as another peacekeeper grabs your arm. "Excuse me, I'm her--" You're being dragged away in order to be packed into another vehicle of transportation with the rest of them.

Coriolanus stays near, doing his best to never lose sight of you in the chaos. A tribute breaks free from the hold of the peacekeepers and launches his body forward. An ill thought out escape attempt. The distraction is all Coriolanus needs. This is his chance to go after you, to cement a connection that will guarantee cooperation.

It's not the distraction that gets him to move or even thoughts of the Plinth prize, it's the final flash of angel white fabric as its forced back into darkness. He rushes forward before he can overthink, entering the vehicle just as the doors shut.

----

i think i might make a part 2!!

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

How would someone like Miko, Ei, and other high ranking officers react to an S/O with a long list of titles like Settra the Imperishable, King of Kings,-

(Genshin Impact) Yae, Ei, Sara, Kokomi, Furina, Jean, and Xianyun's S/O with an absurdly long list of titles

I've been building and painting a lot of Bretonnians lately, so dear readers, you will now become aggressively French.

By the Archons above, nothing was worse to Yae than having to be so serious during a ceremony,

Of all the things she could be doing, literally anything would be better than having to listen to some stuffy noble read their title.

So it was by chance S/O had to be present. She recognized their title was of Fontaine descent.

'The Red Hand of Brionne', 'The Red Duke', Something something Red.

...Wait, their titles were still being read off?!

(Yae) "My goodness, just how many titles with the color red can one have?"

Yae internally sighed as the list kept going. And going. And going.

All the while S/O stood perfectly still and respectful, not even batting an eye at the list of titles that probably would stretch from the top of the shrine all the way to the bottom.

Yae's head looks up to the sky momentarily, wondering how of all the people in the world she could have as a lover, it was the one who had to bore her to tears.

No doubt there were interesting stories of how the titles came to be, but this is not the way she wanted to find out.

And here Yae thought Ei had a lot of names to go by...

(Yae) "...Why is it still going?!"

Ei doesn't react too much at the titles being read off for S/O's form of address at first.

She had to deal with similar situations of people reading off her own titles, so it was only proper etiquette.

"Water-Knight," "The Holder of Secrets", "Keeper of the Way"

(Ei) "...Hm."

It was only now she noticed that the list actually exceeded her own titles.

Which surprised her more than anything.

As far as she knew, S/O was just a mortal. How many feats did they achieve in Fontaine during their short life?

She made a note to ask later, but now the list was starting to become a bit absurd.

...Maybe she should implement a law where only the most notable of titles are read off, because they would actually be here for eternity if this continued.

Sara gets jealous fast.

Not because S/O has more titles than her, she couldn't care less about that.

What really irked her, was they had the gall to own more titles than Her Excellency, the Almighty Narukami Ogosho!

Sara masks her annoyance well as she keeps reading off the list.

Line after line, name after name.

...Okay, who the hell even gave her this list, this was way too many!

(Sara) Leader of battles...? What kind of title even is that?!

She made that comment in her head as she droned on with the names.

With every single title read off, Kokomi's energy drained.

She loved her S/O dearly, but by the Archons, how the heck did they get that many titles while living in Fontaine?!

(Gorou) "Lionheart, The Lionhearted, High Paladin of the Breton Court-!"

As far as she was aware, there wasn't even any Knight Houses like this in Fontaine!

...Then again, this was Fontaine she was talking about. They did have their theatres.

Kokomi doesn't mention anything about their stupidly long list of names until after the formal ceremony.

She drops her head onto their shoulders, sighing loudly.

(Kokomi) "S/O...why did we need to have all your names read out...?"

The AUDACITY S/O had!

To have more titles than HER, FURINA?!

This transgression would never be forgotten!

...But they were some pretty cool names, she did have to admit.

'The Golden Paladin',' 'Lord of the Lance', 'Roi Breton'

(Furina) "Hmph, and where exactly did you acquire such names, S/O? More importantly, how does it nearly rival my own?! Hmph! Perhaps I should read all of mine so that we are on equal footing!"

Honestly, some of those were starting to sound like stage names, which wasn't fair at all!

If they could do that, then so could she!

Needless to say, the ceremony the two were attending dragged on for way too long.

By Barbatos, those were some extra titles.

'The Green Knight', 'Knight of the Glade', 'Heart of the Lion'

Though, she only had a few titles under her own belt, the sheer number S/O had was honestly staggering.

But it was also admirable.

It made her want to keep up, and wondered if she could ever live up to Vanessa, and apparently S/O.

Because at this point she was wandering in her mind, the list was still going, and probably outnumbered Vanessa herself.

(Jean) Well...I suppose we did say we were to refer to all forms of address...Maybe we should revise that.

Xianyun was no stranger to titles.

She did indeed go by many, but S/O seemed to go by even more.

Which both impressed, and honestly annoyed Xianyun.

How did a mortal go by more names than Rex Lapis?!

'The Sacremor', 'The Soul-Killer', 'Duke of Couronne'-

(Xianyun) "One has to wonder why you must have all your names read aloud? We could be doing something much better right now..."

Granted, she did recognize a few of these titles, but that was no reason for dinner to get cold now!

Xinayun pouts, adjusting her glasses as she tries to get comfortable as the reading continued.

One found this situation inane...

[inbarfink]

Okay, so, for the longest time the Tallests’ behavior toward Zim in ‘Battle of the Planets’ has always struck me as… odd.

 I mean, of course the idea that they mock him publicly behind his back makes sense in general. That is a very Tallests Thing to Do. But the specific ways they mock him…

I dunno...maybe the intention is supposed to be like 'haha you're saying 'unstoppable death machine like it's a good thing but it's not!!' or something but... with the delivery and the general characterization of the Irken army it comes off as more of 'haha! it's funny because he's NOT an unstoppable death machine hahaha" and...

Like, yes. Zim is correct. He is, in fact, an ‘unstoppable death machine’. That is absolutely an accurate statement to be taken seriously. The only problem was that he’s an unstoppable death machine that’s too uncontrollable to prevent him from Death Machining his own people as well. That’s literally why you banished him, remember?

But then I took a moment to think about that.... It does actually makes sense that the Tallests, despite getting literal first-class seats to his rampage of destruction - might still have a problem with actually internalizing why Zim is so Bad.

Because Zim is basically the Irkenest Irken to ever Irk. He might be considered ‘Defective’, yes, but all of his defects manifest as the logical extremes of Irken ideology. He has, on paper, all of the skills and personality traits and ideals that the Irken Empire value - just exaggerated and twisted in a way that makes him the biggest milestone around the Empire's neck.

Zim is a pretty good fighter, infiltrator, pilot and scientist. Remember, he’s a Fast-Food Drone Play-Acting Alien Invasion to get him out of the Armada’s antennas now, but he was a legitimate actual Invader back during ‘Impending Doom 1’. And that’s with all the social barriers and prejudice that a short Irken like him is going to face. I’m guessing a lot of the selection process for Invaders is done by automated systems or extremely-detached Control Brains. And only looking at, like, Zim’s practice or test results - he should be an exceptional Invader on-par with Skoodge.

But we all know the truth is more complicated then that. Zim’s talents and training are hampered by his own massive ego, absolute inability to accurately assess threats and his impulsive desires for destruction and death. He’s unable to judge when he’s punching above his weight or tackling an endeavor beyond his abilities. He cannot admit when he has made an error, even just to fix or improve an invention/plan. And he always allocates his resources in the dumbest way possible. 

And that’s all, like, emergent from Irken Ideology - or at least from Zim’s logical extreme of it. Confidence and selfishness are rewarded on Irk - Zim is mostly unusual in terms of sheer volume (or maybe he’s too Short to be allowed to have such a high opinion of himself.) 

His inability to proportionally handle threats is emergent from the Empire’s ideals of Irken Supremacy. Zim is supposed to see all other species in the universe as stupid and inferior and worthy only of servitude and so logically they can’t be a serious threat to him, an Elite Irken Soldier. But he also needs to internally justify why all of these Clearly Inferior Beings are even a problem to the Irken Empire in general and for him in specific. Especially when he fails to conquer them as easily as a ‘Superior Being’ is supposed to. And so his ego and his insistence on Irkens being Superior has to elevate them into fearsome enemies. 

That Speciesism is also why his disguise is so bad! We directly see it in the first episode. He had the option of picking a more realistic human disguises but he just found it too gross. And that actually seems to be a trend, considering every Actual Invader we see on the show has a disguise that is just as bad if not worse.

And Zim’s tendency towards delusions is also born, at least partially, from his devotion to Irken Ideology. Not just from the obvious insistence of the superiority of himself and his Empire despite his constant failures. But also… how do you balance out the Irken values of selfishness with the also-Irken values of loyalty and absolute obedience to the Empire and the Tallests? For Zim, the obvious answer seems to be ‘delude himself into believing whatever selfish personal whim he has is actually for the good of the Empire and the true will of the Tallest’. That’s how he can break All of the Rules All of the Time and still act like he’s just another obedient and loyal vessel of the Tallest. 

And then there’s the value of destruction and cruelty. This is absolutely not a Zim-only thing - that is a value he got from Irken society in general. After all, it’s pretty clear they don’t even have, like, a token excuse for their universe-conquering aspirations. They’re just doing this shit because destroying and subjecting the universe seems Fun and Cool. I mean, ‘Battle of the Planets’ demonstrates that better than anything. 

The Tallests have no idea of what to do with the planets they conquer. They don’t need them for anything. They decided Blorch's new purpose as a spur-of-the-moment decision and it was a Parking Structure Planet. Most of Irk’s single-use planets are pretty silly but this one especially so. Parking Structures only have value based on them being near a Place People Want to Go To, so a whole planet of them really defeats the whole idea. The Tallests only conquered Blorch and wiped out the Rat People because they want to conquer planets and wipe out sapient species.

And that is… exactly the same sort of meaningless cruelty Zim demonstrates. I mean… What Zim did with Prisoner 777 is literally just a smaller-scale recreation of what the whole Irken Empire did to the Vortians. And honestly, Zim actually has a slightly-better track record of actually getting ‘his’ Vortian to do what he wants. While the Irken Empire in general has basically shot themselves in the foot and assured all of their best technology is going to come with some sort of Stupid Hidden Flaw and all because they wanted to be the Conquerors rather than ‘just’ allies. 

The difference is really just that Zim values destruction so much he has problem processing that directing the destruction at his own people is still a very bad thing in the eyes of the empire.

And that’s… kind of the ideological blind spot the Tallests fall into during ‘Battle of the Planets’, I think. They should know that Zim is very much an Unstoppable Death Machine, just one that they can’t control and thus should be kept as far away from the Empire and Operation Impending Doom 2 as possible. But in their little Irken-Ideology-Poisoned minds - being an “Unstoppable Death Machine” is a Good Thing and Zim is obviously Bad - so, obviously logically he cannot be an Unstoppable Death Machine. 

And throughout this entire episode, the Tallest mock the idea that Zim is even capable of… not just achieving his and the Empire’s goals (obviously, yeah, he is incapable of doing that), but that he's even capable of properly causing destruction? Which they should know he is very capable of. And this is probably the closest he ever came in the show to legitimately destroying the human race. Only being foiled due to a huge stroke of luck on Dib’s part that nobody saw coming. And yet the Tallests were so certain that Zim, of all the Irkens in the galaxy, is somehow incapable of destroying a planet???

And at the end, Zim does prove himself as an Unstoppable Death Machine by, once again, managing to kill a fuckload of his own people while the Tallests laugh about how inaccurate that descriptor is for him. 

This is extra ironic with the Tallests throwing that one guy out of the airlock at the start of the episode

They punish others just for not remembering Zim’s rampage, but they clearly have not internalized what it Means themselves.

The fact that a guy like that even managed to reach the most prestigious not-height-based position in the Irken military in the first place should be a cause of some serious introspection of how Irken Military training and evaluation is handled. Especially when you consider much more competent would-be-Invaders like Tak got dismissed and punished for things totally outside of their control.

But… It seems like the only lesson anyone in the Irken Empire learned was just “Zim is awful”. Which is true, but isn’t really getting to the root of the matter. 

You can see another example of that mindset from the Tallests in ‘Hobo 13’. Because those two were so sure Zim was going to lose, and lose painfully. Because he is Incompetent, obviously that means he can’t do it. Totally forgetting that Zim actually totally has the athletic, combat and - most importantly, technological skills and out-of-the-box thinking that allowed him to survive and thrive. 

I mean, yeah, that means he cheated and threw his entire squad to the dogs for his own personal gain and petty sadistic amusement but… that is absolutely not something the Irken Empire frowns upon. The Tallests especially love to torment and even kill off their subordinates for the pettiest of reasons. Skoodge, featured in both of these episodes, is a great example.

And like, ‘being bad leaders and tormenting their own underlings’ is basically what the Tallests spend the entirety of that episode doing.

That Sergeant had ideological problems with Zim being such a horrible and callous leader, but that’s clearly not a representation of the Irken Empire’s stance. Quite the opposite really. Zim might be a disgrace to Hobo 13, but he was an exemplary Irken. The only reason why him winning was a problem is because he’s Zim and they all hate him.

And speaking of the Tallests’ own behavior reflecting Zim’s… let’s talk a bit about ‘Enter the Florpus’.

Because the downfall of the Irken Armada in that story is not just Zim’s fault. I mean, it is partly Zim’s fault. Without him there wouldn’t be a Florpus in the first place. But the narrative makes it constantly very very clear that this is Not Actually a Threat for the Armada… if not for the Tallests adamantly and childishly refusing to change course. 

The Tallests hate Zim, and they make it clear at every possible opportunity. And they hate him because he’s so damn incompetent and such a threat to the Empire’s safety. And yet they constantly demonstrate they possess the exact same core personality issues as Zim - they’re just slightly better having, like, a veneer of reasonability and being able to perceive reality (and also they are tall, which helps them get away with more.) And nowhere is it more obvious than ‘Enter the Florpus’...

Where the Tallests prove that they can be just as childish and single-minded -

And just as destruction-hungry - 

And just as quick to deny reality -

And just as disrespectful of their underlings. 

This recurring bit with the navigator is especially striking to me, because more than anything it makes me remember… Operation Impending Doom 1.

Two times the Irken Empire has been brought to the brink of collapse. And both of these times it is because a powerful high-ranking Irken (one time an Invader, the other time the Tallests themselves), refused to listen to the warnings and concerns of a lower-ranking expert Navigator - continuing with a course of destruction for their own people. 

You could say the Irken Empire was doomed from the start because of their own philosophy of cruelty and selfishness. Eventually, it was bound to create someone like Zim - who takes the Irken Ideology to its logical extreme in the most destructive way possible. Or you can say the Irken Empire was doomed from the start because of their asinine height-based class system. Which basically inevitably assures that at some point the reigns of the Empire will be at the hands of someone buffoonish and incompetent enough to drag the whole Empire down with them. And both of these viewpoints are true in their own way but also…

The Irken Empire was also doomed from the start cause, whatever this is a result of a culture that highly values obedience to your superiors over common sense, or because punishments for disobedience are just so terribly severe - these two Navigators continued to push those knobs and drive that ship even as they knew their commanders were mad and their actions were just driving their own Empire towards oblivion. 

Perhaps the Irken Military could use some sort of protocol of what to do when your superior is being clearly unreasonable and endangering not only the mission but literally the fate of your entire civilization? No, of course not. Yet another lesson not learned from Zim’s actions in ‘Impending Doom 1’. The only important lesson Irk needed to learn from that was just ‘Fuck This One Guy in Particular’.

Zim’s whole existence is like a twisted parody of the Irken Empire and all of its values. It’s really no wonder that the Tallest never got the joke. 

[creedslove]

SLEEP BLISS 💤

Post outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: you and Joel used to share a sleeping bag when you were on the road. Once you got to Jackson, he made sure to put an end to this habit, but now his nightmares are back to haunt him again and he needs your help

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of smut, mentions of masturbation, probably out of character Joel but I don't care I just want my big bear Joel to be happy and safe

1.5k words

As Joel stood at the door watching you get ready for bed, he scratched down his neck while he felt so stupid.

But it wasn't just a feeling, he was stupid. That was the problem.

You took a while to notice him there, he'd been extremely silent and several times he thought of giving up that idea. He had an internal battle going on, so ashamed of asking you that, but at the same time he really needed it.

You saw him standing there, dark circles around his eyes, he looked exhausted and even a shade paler if someone asked and you knew exactly why.

The nightmares were back.

It pained you to think of how much he suffered to get something simple such as a night's sleep, you also had nightmares of your own, everyone did in an apocalyptic world like the one you lived in, but you just knew Joel's were somehow worse. He was tortured by his own subconscious, everything all at once, all his memories, regrets, broken dreams, broken promises, broken heart.

He often mumbled Sarah's name during his sleep, and it was followed by whimpers, the ones Joel would never let out in front of anyone, not while awake.

And you knew that because you watched his suffering for the last couple of months.

While traveling together to Jackson, you two ended up sleeping together.

Sleeping and sleeping only.

Never had sex, Joel never touched you in that way, despite a few occasional boners you felt poking your back when you woke up, but you couldn't really blame him for a good old morning wood.

You wouldn't deny you wanted Joel to touch you in that way, but you knew he wouldn't. He was a distant guy, no matter if you two knew each other since the QZ and went through a lot together, he always kept to himself, and you knew better than to push his buttons.

You cared for him, and he cared for you, but he wasn't that kind of guy and he was old enough to know that if he crossed the line, things would be an even bigger mess than they were.

He decided to share the sleeping bag with you when you were both out in the open and he couldn't stand you chattering your teeth all the time, how you tried warming your hands and how you had to place sweater over sweater and still you couldn't warm up enough to sleep.

He'd never seen that before. Even during summer nights, when the breeze cooled down, you still had chills and needed a blanket.

He tried to tell himself that the situation pissed him off, but in fact, it made him sad. He didn't like seeing you suffering and decided to keep you warm.

What was supposed to be one night, became two, three, four… and it lasted through the whole trip.

Joel's plan was to never repeat that again, but when he fell asleep that night, he didn't have any nightmares.

And neither during the other nights you slept together.

As much as he enjoyed having a peaceful slumber, he also saw how flushed and giggly you were when you woke up.

How you rested your hands on his when he held you and how before bed you always rested your hands way too close to the waist of his jeans. You were a lot younger than him, but you were a woman nonetheless and a beautiful one at that matter, and it was easy to get tempted.

And that was why, the first thing he did when you both arrived in Jackson, was to put an end to this dangerous habit.

At first, he didn't even want to share a house with you, and he rudely suggested that you find a place on your own.

You'd looked at him with sad, disappointed eyes, but agreed.

However, Joel went soft and when he saw you were packing your bags, he apologized and said he'd prefer to have you there, for safety matters, he quickly added, but stood by the decision of you having your own room.

You respected his decision, you couldn't complain and you also enjoyed having your own bedroom, you could decorate it as you pleased, have your own privacy and God knew how much you needed it when the memories of the nights you spent curled up to him, hit you hard and you had no other solution than to bury your fingers deep inside of your aching cunt and pretend it were his instead.

You didn't question him, but each passing day you noticed how he got darker circles around his eyes and at night you always heard his heavy steps pacing around the house, unable to sleep.

You wouldn't deny him help, but you wouldn't offer it either, the fear of getting a hurtful reply was bigger, besides, it was his decision to take his distance and you couldn't lie at the fact that you did feel hurt.

You finally raised your eyes at him and saw the discomfort in his face, you could swear he had made up his mind to talk to you about just to give up and then decide to do it all over again. He was a proud man and that must've been a terrible situation for him.

"Do you wanna sleep here tonight?" You broke the silence, knowing it would only take him just a couple of seconds more to give up and go back to his room, but you didn't want that, you wanted Joel there, you wanted to feel his weight, his warmth and his rough, big hands.

"I-uh…" he started with awkwardness though he saw it was pointless to lie "yes…" he was ready to get in bed when you told him to stop.

"If you want to sleep here, it will be on my terms, Joel… Undress!"

"What the fuck, Y/N?" He immediately replied, looking at you rather shocked.

"Joel, come on… we're not on the road anymore, we're safe, we're sleeping in a warm bed, it's not like we need to be in our jeans in case we gotta get up in the middle of the night to run or fight" you explained him when quickly got rid of your shorts, standing only in a loose shirt and your panties.

Joel swallowed hard and didn't even try to hide when he checked your body out, you felt a soft flush spreading across your cheek but smiled "it's nothing we haven't seen when we were bathing in the lake" you reminded him.

If he wasn't so exhausted he could've just argued and told you to fuck off, but instead, Joel got rid of his shirt at first, revealing his broad chest, strong arms that unblocked his belt and dragged his jeans to the floor, until he was standing there in his boxers only.

If he hadn't been embarrassed to look at you, you certainly wouldn't be embarrassed to look at him, and you did it, for quite a while, eyes lingering especially on his crotch, where you could swear you could see the shape of his cock.

You didn't look him in the eyes though, instead, you got under the covers and waited for him to do the same.

Joel let out a groan once his body met the comfortable mattress and covered himself.

You scooter closer and snaked your arm around his waist

"Relax Joel, it's just me," you reminded him. You relaxed as you rested your head on his chest and kept rubbing his naked skin with circular movements, massaging his tense arms.

"The nightmares are back, you know…" he said embarrassedly "I didn't want to bother you, but I can only sleep decently when you're around" you were shocked at his confession, Joel wasn't one to talk about stuff like that, but you understand he probably didn't care at all at how exhausted he was.

"You smell good, darling… you always did, even when we were on the road…" he smiled gently at you, which made your heart beat faster, you cupped his face and traced his jawline with the tip of your fingers.

Suddenly, all the anger and hurt you felt when Joel told you to take another room faded and you smiled, nuzzling his neck gently and stroking his soft, curly hair.

"Sleep Joel" you whispered to him, pressing a kiss on his forehead.

Slowly you could feel the tension in his body dissolving and he drifted off to sleep.

In the early morning, you woke up to Joel clung tight to you. You had your back to his chest, his heavy arm on your hips, preventing you from getting up. You gasped the moment you realized what was poking your back was his erection.

Alright, his boner was definitely harder to ignore without the thickness of his jeans shielding it, but you didn't complain at all, it felt so good to feel him that way.

You could've got up to make you and Joel breakfast, but you gave up, closing your eyes and snuggling, going back to sleep in Joel's arms.

_____

A/N: idk i just love Joel

[tossawary]

Regarding "The Hobbit" film trilogy, even if I ended up personally disliking and resenting how much time and focus the elf characters (and others) ended up taking away from the dwarves whom I think deserved more focus as rich internal characters (I know that studio pressures are a factor in that terrible love triangle and so on), I still... vaguely appreciate the effort to create and include named female characters like Tauriel, when the book is sadly lacking in them. I think she's fine, actually. Comparatively, there are many other elements in these adaptations that I think are much, MUCH worse.

But still, if you want to add female characters to this story, the obvious answer to me seems to be to just make half the Company into dwarf women? (With similarly fancy beards and other facial hair! Because I think that's fun.) It's just... so much easier?

Do NOT come at me with that "dwarf women are rare" bullshit. Unreliable narration. Logistically unlikely. Also, if you believe that "men are the warriors and craftsmen, the women stay at home" is how dwarf society strictly functions (boring, honestly, on top of being incredibly sexist), I could argue that the Battle of Azanulbizar and other struggles probably left a significant dent in this dwarf group's male population, leaving behind many widows and mothers without children to pick up the work. The battlefields have come to and TAKEN both Erebor and Moria from the dwarves. I see no good reason why dwarf women would not have equal investment in reclaiming their home and the gold. Many of the Company are not presented to be formally trained warriors, anyway.

Now, ideally, we could do way queerer stuff in terms of both romance and gender here, but we know cowards with veto powers would not let this happen. Still, I feel like basic genderbending would have been a very doable move and is, actually, a very reasonable ask of an adaptation that would have added some depth to the story even if you didn't acknowledge the change at all.

Like, preferably, this would be an adaptational change that would be directly addressed. Maybe all of the Company appear male at first due to traveling that way (and assumptions made by humans and hobbits), then Bilbo might learn that some of the Company are dwarf women when he becomes closer to all of them. We could have a brief scene acknowledging that dwarf women are fighting these battles for their pasts and their futures too. It doesn't have to be a big thing! They can just be there. Existing. Participating.

I even think it would be fun if two of the dwarves were actually an older married couple traveling together, instead of brothers or cousins, because loving married bickering and battle couples are fun. You can have running jokes in the background about how Smaug's invasion ruined their wedding day, and going back and forth with "you never take me anywhere nice" @ each other whenever they're stuck in Goblintown or the Mirkwood dungeons. (I like seeing good marriages & partnerships in fiction and established couples going on fantasy quests together. I just think it's neat.)

But another (sillier) direction is that you could just cast some actresses in beards to play some of the dwarves, then leave the fact that some of these characters are probably dwarf women (traveling as men) as a fun detail for the audience. Bilbo is either too oblivious to notice or much too polite to bring it up at all. It's canonically compliant to the text this way!

Now, obviously some few people would have complained that Tolkien's work was being ruined by "political correctness", but they complained anyway about Tauriel (when there are MANY other bad choices in these movies), and what worthwhile arguments could they have possibly made against genderbending some of the THIRTEEN dwarves? Like, most casual fans I know cannot NAME the entire Company, who get so little character development in the book that the films had to come up with unique designs and backgrounds for most of them anyway. Bro (directed towards someone objecting to the idea of including female dwarves), be real, there's no way that you honestly cared this much about "Nori the Dwarf" before right now.

[loki-eiginkona]

know it's for the better

pairing: Loki x fem!reader.

notes: hi there, first of all, I wrote this just because i don't know, so please don't expect too much from it. it's a really short thing because again I didn't even intend to post it. also english is not my first language. contains angst. hope it's not too out of character. I think that's all thank yooou

"I don't want to feel this," Loki growled softly. "I don't want this feeling that I'm feeling in my heart right now. Yet, I can't seem to run from it like I have everything else."

You had never seen the god of mischief so vulnerable.

Never in his life had he ever admitted these things so openly, so candidly to anyone.

It was the most vulnerable you had seen him, and so you felt strangely honored that he trusted you enough to be this openly vulnerable and honest, despite everything.

"I hate how you make me feel this way. I hate how much you make me feel in general. It's... it's infuriating to me."

"I'm... sorry for infuriating you." You murmured against his shoulder after some moments of silence, not sure what you should say. "These feelings. They're new to me too, you know. We can figure it out together. I'll be on your side, yes?"

He groaned in response. You could practically hear every battle being waged in his subconscious, between his feelings and his heart. He wanted things to be that simple, like in your sweet and innocent mortal mind, but was he even allowed to feel like this for a human? Did he even deserve such affection from you, when he had spent so long manipulating and playing with those around him?

No.

You could practically feel his internal guilt and self-hatred.

You don't deserve this. You never did.

He didn't bring these feelings out in words, however.

"It's overwhelming." he said instead. "Feeling like my heart is going to explode at any moment from so much affection for you... it's humiliating." He rolled his eyes in a ghost of laughter, nuzzling his nose against your neck to tease you. "You're like a damn plague, midgardian."

"And this plague is slowly taking over you." you murmured, trying to play along the little joke to lighten the mood; you chuckled softly, looking up to him at that point. "Your heart will explode soon..."

He had to admit, he would not mind that happening. In fact, he would prefer it. You made him feel so many emotions, so many that he hadn't felt before. Emotions that he wasn't sure if he ever belonged him.

"By the gods, you're an infuriating woman," he muttered, grinning down at you. "I'm a god. Why do I have to fall for a stubborn mortal like a pathetic weakling?" his expression was playfull now, but his thoughts were still clouded.

He just wished he could escape these feelings, but he was too far gone; these feelings had already taken root into his heart, making his feel something he had never felt before.

Fear. Fear as his heart fluttered in his chest and his blood raced.

A fear he couldn't even describe to himself. An uncertainty that this was all going to end when you finally realized who he really was, and what would come would hurt him in a way that he wasn’t sure if he could bear.

Or - much, much - worse, a fear that he would hurt you, just like he did to everyone else who dared to love or trust him in the past. No, this he could never allow to happen; he would never forgive himself. He couldn't.

"Because," you heard him murmur before you could say anything, the edge on his tone suddenly softening. “You're special. Your smile alone can drive a man mad. I just want to kiss your mouth again, pull your hair again, feel you against me. Feel you in my bed once more..."

And then you kissed him. Your lips met his softly, and the way that they parted made you feel so wanted in this moment. His lips parted more and more to allow more space between them. He pulled you closer to him, one hand caressing your cheek and holding your face as the other held your body against his.

At that moment, your heart filled with so much joy that you thought it would burst out of your chest, because you knew he had finally made his decision; It was only when during the kiss he touched your temples with his fingertips and you felt the magic flow through your body that you knew for one last moment before falling into a deep sleep that his insecurities had won. When you woke up the next morning, there would be no trace of the most intense love you had ever felt in your life; With a sad smile, the prince of lies looked at your sleeping body on the bed one last time before leaving your life, never to return.

"Know it's for the better."

[comradekatara]

Hello! So this is not quite an ask but THANK YOU for doing god's work of injecting some actual nuance, defending bolin (among other things), critiquing the comics, and all the plot holes/things that just don't make sense which become glaringly obvious if one thinks about any aspect for more than two seconds (lol but you know this already duh) and am only annoyed I did not stumble upon this blog sooner, since I am so done with this show (but also I keeping at it like the scabs). Also, your art is delightful! If you still require an ask, do you perchance write fanfic? (it's possible you might have mentioned it but sometimes I can't read lol)

Have a good day!

hello, and thank you! also it’s funny that defending bolin is the first thing you list because I thought I made it pretty clear that I think his character is direly poorly-written and that I do not care for him. but… you’re welcome I guess? but yes obviously critiquing the comics and imbuing nuance and all of that I will definitely gladly take credit for. and thank you for liking my art! i do occasionally write fanfic, but i’ve only ever shown it to my friends and never actually posted it anywhere, so functionally, my answer would be no. i have debated posting it in the past, but idk, i don’t think that would be a good idea. maybe someday i’ll snap tho who knows.

as for your other ask…

Also because I clicked on the ask button before I had a brain fart (so if this would come off a bit deranged for posting an ask right after the first my apologies), I also want to mention the commentary that Iroh being 'everyone's favourite sexist' is gold because we just gloss over that and no one ever seems to mention that scene. Another thing about atla is that the reason given for Zuko's constant internal struggle and conflict is because he's descended from the previous avatar and the fire lord but hello, Azula?? Did Ursa have an affair now?? Isn't she just as worthy of redemption, or the fact she's just as abused anyhoo ok im done

I mean I’m assuming by “that scene” you mean the one with june, but tbh his misogyny isn’t relegated to simply one unpalatable scene. it’s reflected in how he treats azula (versus zuko) across the show. and I know that zuko is softer and more amenable than azula, and he has demonstrated a desire to do good that azula hasn’t, but it’s also quite troubling that iroh just writes off his fourteen year old niece as a lost cause when she is also the sibling who most resembles him. and he somehow just can’t seem to understand that she is worthy of the same empathy and compassion and understanding as zuko is, that playing favorites like this isn’t good or normal. and I actually think that azula has it way worse than iroh, both because she’s a girl and because azulon seemed to love iroh conditionally (despite clearly not feeling the same about ozai), whereas ozai’s love for azula is incredibly conditional and does not exempt her from his violence. but you know. her hysterical wandering womb is outta control she needs to go down she cant be trusted she’s a sickopath!!!! like. ok old man.

as for your next point, I do think that what iroh says about zuko’s ancestry reflecting the ideological battle within him is fully bullshit, but I do reconcile that by interpreting iroh’s claims not as what he truly believes, but as a rhetorical point he thinks might get through to zuko. because he’s really run the gamut of wisdom and guidance, some of it even being contradictory, just in an attempt to pierce through zuko’s thick, stubborn skull. and it does pay off, eventually, but it takes ages to get there. like how much do you wanna bet his first approach was to just straight up be like “your father is an abuser and you shouldn’t adhere to his dogmas.” and then when that didn’t work he started getting creative with it. and like, the reason it gets through to zuko isn’t even because roku was his great grandfather, but because he was ursa’s grandfather. and realizing that he too can be good and stand up for what he believes in, like her, his true role model, is his ultimate takeaway from that lesson. but I really do think by that point iroh’s rhetorical strategy was really to just throw vaguely pertinent metaphors at the wall to see what sticks.

[piplup335]

Subspace & a reader who is a toxic player!

HEYA, FELLAS!!!

sry I didn’t have time to write, I was quite busy these few days ;-; but hey, now I have time to write! I’m just cramming out whatever time I have to finally rest and finish up reqs :D

honestly I like writing for you all, so I’m not a fan of going inactive LMAO

anyway, enjoy!

requested by…yeah, you already know who you are, you just don’t wanna admit it. I know who you are :)

-

"At last."

Subspace could feel the smugness radiating off of Medkit as he fired a crystal, instantly healing his teammates. Subspace had tried to chase after and take down the other team's Shuriken for one and a half minutes, only to get shot and taken down by Medkit himself, his sworn enemy.

Or rather, Subspace himself didn't try to take down Shuriken.

It was the player. The one controlling him.

More specifically, someone named (Y/N). He overheard the name when someone yelled at them to keep quiet…and judging by the tone, it seemed like this wasn’t the first time.

Deep down, Subspace never wanted to fight anyone. He just wanted to stay in his lab in Blackrock, tinkering on his newest experiments and inventions, improving the Biografts he held so dear to him...after all, the Biografts were the "people" he truly felt close to, the beings he saw as children.

But no, the creators of the endless game he was trapped in pulled him out of Blackrock for ungodly amounts of time, only being able to leave when the server was shut down for maintenance or when the game was closed for updates.

He rarely even got to see his creations as often, only being able to catch sight of them in what the players called a "lobby" or during one of the matches. Regardless of whether Biograft or Hyperlaser was on the same team as him or not, a familiar sight was always appreciated.

To the players, it was just an average video game where you use random characters and fight each other with swords and stuff.

To Subspace, it was hell.

He wanted to be left alone to work on his creations in the eternal winter of Blackrock.

But no, he had to be pulled out of the comfort of his lab just to fight people, most of whom he had never met before.

He didn't even have control of his actions either- everything was decided by the player.

The player. Subspace shuddered at the thought.

He always hated losing control of his body, watching helplessly as the player controlled his every movement. Controlled where he walked, who he attacked, how he attacked...Subspace couldn't even run to save his life if he wanted to.

Sometimes, whoever the player was would be nice to him. On those days, the player would make smart decisions to avoid death, allowing him to effortlessly eliminate multiple opponents by utilising his poisonous tripmines to shred the opposing team's defences.

In other scenarios such as this one, however, the player controlling him was terrible.

They would make the worst possible choices, immediately charging into battle even though he was meant to attack from a distance. They never used his crystals effectively, missing the opportunity to immobilise and slow down his opponents...they made so many bad decisions it was almost impressive.

Today, however, seemed a lot worse.

Not only did this one player, (Y/N), suck at utilising his abilities, but he would also curse him out for being "bad" and "useless".

And now, here he was. He was faced with a death screen with his limp body on the ground as Medkit ran past him to heal the rest of his team.

The player had spent almost two minutes trying to take down a SINGLE PLAYER. The amount of misfires on other people was impressive at that point...

And now it was all for nought.

"Damn it! You suck at this! I spend so much time trying to kill someone and I can't because you do less than 5 hitpoints for your normal attack!"

Subspace internally groaned at this. He was not allowed to cry out loud or make a sound outside his usual voice lines- that would alert the player that he and the others were self-aware about these phights being nothing more than a game.

He forced himself to keep his mouth shut.

Subspace was irritated- he wanted to yell out loud, retort at the player and get some common sense into his head. He wanted to instruct the player as to how to properly play him so that maybe, just maybe, the player could shut up for thirty seconds.

He was tired of seeing the death screen so many times in one match. By then, he had seen it seven or eight times in four minutes and was slowly getting tired of it.

He just wanted to break free from the puppeteer's grasp.

He just wanted to get out of the lobby. He wanted to head to Crossroads, down the familiar concrete path back to Blackrock. He just wanted to put on a warm coat amidst the everlasting blizzard in his faction.

The blizzard gave him a warmth in his chest...a warm feeling that reminded him of home.

"One last minute..." Subspace thought. One more minute, and he could rest for another thirty seconds...until being pulled straight back into another nightmarish round, another round where he'd experience the constant and tedious cycle of spawning, being controlled, getting killed, spawning again...

He wished he could go home, back to Blackrock. He did not like it here.

As the round ended, Subspace got a glimpse of the results screen.

He was last. Again. With thirteen deaths, zero kills, and only two assists.

“Darn it! Why’d I even pick you? Your damage output is trash!”

Subspace could hear (Y/N) let out a string of profanities upon seeing another loss. Just as Subspave thought all was lost and he’d die from madness after all this, he heard Zuka announce something- something he had yearned to hear for the past thirty minutes.

“Phighters- I got a message from the developers. Server’s gonna shut down, maintenance is happening soon.”

Five seconds later, Subspace felt energy return to his joints as he stumbled onto the floor.

Subspace tried moving his arm, then went on to flexing his fingers. It worked.

He let out a sigh of relief. It was finally over.

One by one, other phighters around the lobby stumbled and toppled over as they regained energy in their joints as the players got kicked.

The puppeteers were gone.

Zuka gestured into his van.

“We’re going back to Crossroads. Hop in.”

As the familiar tower in Crossroads emerged in the distance, Subspace finally let his shoulders relax. He was closer to Crossroads, closer to his laboratory, closer to his home…

Subspace wouldn’t need to fight his beloved Biografts like he was forced to in phights. It always tore him apart to attack his creations, the very things he had worked so hard to perfect…the closest thing he had to a true companion.

But now, he could rest.

Other phighters lounged around in Crossroads. Rocket could be seen making small talk with Sword

Hyperlaser and Katana could be seen heading to the nearest bar.

All the phighters seemed to want to have a chat with someone else before heading back to their respective factions.

Instead, Subspace trudged down the path to Blackrock without saying a word, exhausted and irritated from everything that happened.

Biograft spotted this and immediately sprinted towards his creator.

“I just don’t get it!! Why me?? Why do I always seem to get the most talentless players?? I can see their stats and half the people who play me are newbies!!”

Biograft listened. That was his task, anyway- to identify the needs of his creator and adapt to them. And right now, Subspace needed a listening ear- someone who would listen to all his woes about the day.

“Why am I even doing this?? It’s been a week without seeing a player that knew their stuff!! Dear Illumina, WHY?!”

Biograft may have been a robot, but he was programmed to understand what his creator needed and how to respond.

If he needed food, Biograft could cook up a meal.

If he needed a certain tool, Biograft could bring Subspace his trusty toolbox.

But right now, all Subspace needed was some comfort.

The duo trod back to the familiar snowy landscape of Blackrock in silence. Biograft knew that his creator just wanted to go home. He didn’t have the energy for this.

Back in the lab, Biograft listened to Subspace.

The lab was Subspace’s haven, the only place where he felt comfortable enough to let loose.

Subspace spent so much time in the lab, more time than in his own house so much so that Biograft would often worry for its creator. Subspace would then reassure it, saying that he’s just doing what he enjoys. Never once would Biograft ever see Subspace at his workstation without his concentrated expression, only changing when Subspace chuckled softly every time a component worked as intended.

But today was different.

Subspace was resentful of the player, and back in his lab was where he finally let out all his pent-up rage.

Upon entering the lab, Subspace collapsed onto a nearby chair, groaning in annoyance.

“That little sh-!! I did what I could to accommodate his stupidity, but what did he do?? Curse me out, that’s what!!”

Subspace got up, pacing around and stomping on the ground to emphasise his point.

Biograft watched his creator. It could hear everything the player said, and despite being on the opposite team, it could almost feel a sense of empathy towards his creator, deep down in his processors.

“And do I have a damn choice as to whether or not I get controlled?? No!! This crap is all part of a VIDEO GAME, and I don’t have a say as to whether or not I participate!! Can’t I like, call in sick??”

Subspace picked up a screwdriver and was about to hurl it at the wall…but he paused, looked at the tool, and set it back down on his workbench.

He collapsed back into the seat, groaning in annoyance.

“…apologies, Biograft. It’s been a rough day…and I finally get to let loose.”

Understanding his situation, Biograft’s processors whirred to life, processing the new information. The soft hum of the processor was the only sound in the lab as Subspace lay on the chair.

As Biograft’s processors grew silent, it walked over and put an arm around its creator.

For once in a long time, Subspace felt some warmth.

And it wasn’t from his usual coat.

-

thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!

if you do have feedback, please drop it in the comments so I can improve my writing for you guys! :D

[bibbykins]

Moonlight Reign Ch. 5

A/N: Lmao hi! I'm back and this chapter is sorta boring but trust the process! Hopefully next chapter will be much sooner! Basically I post a chapter once I have the following one or two done~ Please enjoy and send asks and all that! I keep meaning to make a banner for this series, and one day I will have one!! As usual everyone thank @rapline-heaux my wonderful beta reader who read this months ago lmaooo

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Yandere Mafia! BTS x Reader

Word count: 5.4k

Warnings: yandere behavior, unhealthy relationship, poly relationship, obsessive and possessive behavior, murder, mafia activities, crime, manipulation, crying, trauma, sensory flashbacks, murder, pining, past abuse, past neglect, familial issues, academic neglect, Taehyung and Jimin being mean, abandonment

By the time Jungkook returned to his apartment, all six of his lovers were seated around his dining table, waiting for him. The men looked at the youngest with an aura of moderate annoyance. They hated tardiness, and Jungkook could only imagine the story he spun about you.

“How are you going to be late to the emergency meeting you called?” Jin asked, sighing as he checked his nails impatiently. 

“Go on, tell em where you were.” Taehyung snipped, but Yoongi clicked his tongue in annoyance.

“Don’t bother, he already whined about it.” Namjoon sighed out.

Jungkook snorted, “Yeah, I can tell by the way Jimin looks pissed too.” The MMA fighter bristled at this but sighed, crossing his arms. 

“I’ll never understand what you guys have against her.” Hoseok rolled his eyes, “How is she, dare I ask?” He sarcastically spoke, “According to Tae she’s the Devil incarnate.” 

Jungkook rolled his eyes at this, landing on the man in question to send him a glare, “Did he tell you how much of an asshole he was?” 

“Funnily enough, he neglected to mention his behavior.” Yoongi spoke, not breaking his eye contact with Taehyung who shrunk in his seat a bit, “I also will never understand why she gets under both of your skin so much.” He looked to JImin who shifted in his seat, “None of our trysts have ever gotten to you both.” 

“She’s different.” Taehyung snarled bitterly. No one said it, but the sentiment was there. You were different because Jungkook kept going back to you. You were different because instead of making him worse and leaving them to pick up the pieces, you made him… better. You helped him come from the depths of rock bottom in a way none of them had been capable of doing due to their own internal battles, and it weighed on the two men in a way that guilt could never fully encapsulate. 

“Anyways.” Jungkook spoke, plopping down next to Yoongi who sat at the head of the table, “I’m sure everyone here wants to know why I called you here?” He asked, and the men looked on expectantly. It was rare for Jungkook to call these meetings, especially so close to the anniversary date. Truthfully, he was surprised that they were all even able to attend in the first place, but it was all fate after all, at least in his eyes, “Well, I have just given us the best anniversary gift yet.” The men in the room perked up noticeably. 

“Did Byungjoo seriously give you something useful?” Jimin asked curiously, “I thought I was supposed to go in tomorrow because he’s not talking about the old man’s whereabouts?” He looked to Namjoon whose gaze stayed fixed on Jungkook.

“Yeah… you told me he wasn’t squealing?” The CEO asked suspiciously.

“And he didn’t, not about Byungyeol.” Jungkook confirmed, “But he did mention something… about the girl.” Yoongi’s back was pin straight as the younger man spoke. 

“Isn’t she dead?” Hoseok asked, making Yoongi’s jaw set. 

“Hey, we don’t know that for sure,” Jin argued for the sake of the second oldest who waited for Jungkook to continue with bated breath.

“Oh come on.” Taehyung huffed out, “That fire–”

“Enough.” Yoongi grit out, “Let him finish.” 

Jungkook smiled a bit, all too eager to finally have you out in the open, “She’s alive.” The room went still as he continued, “He gave me her name, and I had to check it out to make sure he wasn’t lying but… I found her.” 

“No way.” Jimin gasped, turning to the older man who had a lump in his throat, “What did you wanna do with her, boss?” The title was a bit sarcastic, “She sharing the same fate as Byungjoo?” 

“No.” Jungkook and Yoongi spoke in unison, making the two look at each other curiously. Everyone in the room knew Yoongi had a certain fixation on finding the green girl, especially as they were preparing for the fall of the Moon group, but they weren’t sure why. The only person who really knew had been Jin who remained as tight-lipped as ever about the topic. 

Yoongi cleared his throat to break some of the tension, “No, I don’t think I plan to kill her.” He spoke cooly, but Jungkook’s jaw set at the mere possibility.

“None of us will be killing or harming her.” Jungkook proclaimed, making the two bosses in the room glared at him. 

“That’s not your call to make, JK.” Namjoon reminded him, but he shook his head in defiance.

“Why do you even care?” Jin asked curiously.

Taehyung watched with squinted eyes as he studied the scene before him. Jungkook never once cared about who lived or died. Hell, he hated attending most meetings. It didn’t make sense why he’d care about some random girl he didn’t know–

Oh. 

Rage bubbled in the pit of Taehyung’s stomach as the puzzle pieces clicked into place, “It’s because she’s been right next door this whole time, isn’t it?” He piped up, and Jungkook’s glare at him deepened, “She’s fucking dea–” Taehyung stood and Jimin followed suit.

“Sit down.” Yoongi hissed, and the men had no other choice but to listen as he turned to the maknae, “Is that true?” 

Jungkook pursed his lips and let out a short laugh, “And I had no fucking clue,” He admitted, and Namjoon wanted to bang his head on the table. All of the men knew that Jungkook wouldn’t lie about this kind of thing, not when it meant so much to Yoongi, but still–

“How could you be so careless–” 

“We all thought she was dead!” Jungkook defended himself, and Yoongi remained quiet, “None of us knew her name, how she looked, hell, we didn’t even know her real age, evidently.” He sighed, “She didn’t even know about me.” 

“What?” Hoseok chimed in, “You’re telling me this is all a coincidence?” He asked incredulously, but Jungkook stood his ground.

“The reason I’ve been so off these days?” He offered, and his boyfriends stiffened, “She saw Namjoon on the news as Bangtan Corp’s CEO, and she… I mean, she’s not an idiot. She added two and two together.” He bitterly admitted, “Our one rule was shattered, so we agreed to go our separate ways but…”

Jin scrunched his brows as he took it in, “You couldn’t let her go, could you?” He asked, and the implications made the men in the room feel ill. Jungkook, the man who could have multiple one-night stands in a night without feeling an ounce of affection for them, couldn’t let you, his friend, walk out of his life, “Jungkook you…”

“She was all I had during…” He trailed off, and the other men could fill in the blanks, “We found each other at our lowest, and now I see why she was so skittish at first it…” He sighed, “It was fate, I see that now.” 

“Fate?!” Taehyung guffawed, “She was playing you!” 

“How?!” He challenged, raising his voice back, “It’s been years and she’s never once asked me for anything!” 

“Everyone calm down, okay?” Hoseok tried to mediate, “Look, I agree with Jungkook, there’s no way she knew or was playing him.” He defended and Jimin scoffed, “I’m serious. I was the one who watched her those days, alright?”

“Byungjoo had no idea I even knew her.” Jungkook mentioned, “I didn’t tell him I did, obviously. He just… immediately gave me her name and her phone number.” He said, but sighed, “She got a new phone the day after she saw Namjoon on the news, you know.” He admitted, “I know now Byungjoo called her that day and she freaked out, now I know why.”

“Freaked out?” Yoongi asked, expression unreadable. 

“Why would she freak out if her uncle called?” Namjoon asked, the Moon family was supposed to be tight-knit.

“She’s…” Jungkook tried to find the word, “I don’t think she was raised how we thought at all, hyung.” He admitted, and it made the older man’s stomach churn, “I think we need to reevaluate everything we thought we knew about the Moon family.” Whispers in the Underworld spoke of a spoiled yet deadly princess who got everything she wanted at the snap of a finger. You were supposed to have been pampered to a nauseating degree. 

“Why don’t we ask her ourselves?” Jimin bitterly added, unbelieving that you could be anything other than what they’d been told.

“Fine.” Jungkook surprisingly agreed, “But not tonight.” 

“What are we even going to do with her?” Jin asked finally, “If we’re not going to kill her then what?” He felt the need to add, “We can’t let her run. Obviously, she was planning to.” 

“We hire her.” Yoongi announced and all of the men except Namjoon looked at him in surprise.

“Just like that?” Hoseok chuckled, “Very well then.” 

“What use do we have for her?” Jimin hissed just as Taehyung stood.

“You’re joking.” Taehyung seethed, “Hire her to what? Stab us in the back?” 

“I haven’t heard anything to suggest she has any allegiance to her family.” Namjoon reasoned, “And she is a nurse, has been Jungkook’s very own for a while now.” He added with a tinge of bitterness, “It only makes sense that–”

“No way in hell am I going to the green girl prodigy killer to heal me.” Taehyung scoffed.

“Then don’t.” Yoongi clipped, making the man scowl further, “But if you need to, she is our new nurse, effective immediately.”

Hoseok, utterly amused, beamed a bit at this, “And no more coming to me to patch you up anymore.” He added, making Taehyung click his tongue, “I’m no good at it and it makes me have to cut into our supply.” He defended. Hoseok had some medical training, he had to in order to be the knowledgeable pharmacist he was now, but he didn’t like using it. 

“And who’s going to tell her?” Jin asked, seemingly unphased by the night’s events, but he seldom was.

“I will.” Yoongi proclaimed, “I’ll speak with her tomorrow and lay out the terms after we hammer them out tonight.” Jungkook stiffened at the idea of the other members seeing you, but it was unavoidable. All he really cared about was the fact that your heart would remain beating and you would be relatively free. 

Jimin glared at Jungkook, “What did you two talk about over there?” He asked.

Jungkook stiffened at the memory of just moments ago before returning his lover’s harsh gaze, “Have something you wanna say?” 

“Interesting that Jungkook gets to keep his toy.” Taehyung spat, making the man in question snarl before Jimin had a chance to say anything. 

“She is not a toy.” Yoongi hissed to everyone’s surprise. He cleared his throat, letting the heat melt from his body, “She is now a vital member of the group and should be treated as such.” This made Jungkook smile.

—

“...And then you tie it like this.” Eunhwa explained, tying the know just above the tip of your gash, “These are poligecaprone sutures, best for general tissue repair, like this.” She was so dutiful in her words, you almost envied how well-spoken she was. Eunhwa was a new instructor since the last one stopped showing up, and you didn’t have it in you to worry when she was so rotten. So far, Eunhwa was quite kind, but she made a displeased face at your wound, and you wondered if she blamed you for it. Father did, after all. He always said you had no business being as clumsy as you were.

Nevertheless, you watched the needle enter your skin and the knot she tied carefully as you nodded, ten-year-old mouth trying to form the word in silence as you did the next suture, the pattern being interrupted, “Pol–” You cut yourself off, looking at Eunhwa with surprise at the fact that you made a noise. You knew the rules, you knew legacies don’t speak unless they have something useful to say. 

You gulped, waiting for admonishment or a behavior report to be made and handed to your uncle, but instead, she smiled, “Do you want help sounding it out?” She asked.

“Yes, ma’am.” You whispered out. 

A brief moment of sadness, an emotion you couldn’t identify yet, flashed on her face before she dutifully guided you through the word. 

You completed the knot and she checked your work with a nod, “Very good.” She mused before her eyes flicked to yours, “Did it hurt? Your father suggested I not give you numbing cream, but if it hurt too bad I can try to convince him.” She offered, but you shook your head. She looked at you quizzically, “It didn’t hurt?” You shook your head again. It hadn’t hurt more than anything else you’d taken, “You don’t want me to talk to him?” 

You swallowed, left with no other choice but to talk, “I can take it. I must.” You echoed his words, “It’s my job.” You solemnly spoke and Eunhwa paused for a moment, before nodding. 

“Very well.” She spoke softly, “I won’t talk to him, then. Just, speak freely around me, okay?” She asked, “I won’t tell, I promise.” 

You nodded, unable to say that you didn’t know how to speak freely.

—

If sleep found you, it certainly didn’t feel like it. Your eyes opened, and it felt like a mere blink. Nevertheless, the sun was slowly beginning to light the sky. The world was still turning for you, for now. You wondered how long you could keep that up. 

It wasn’t going to be long now before the devil was coming to collect your soul in the form of one of the Bangtan men, so you decided to use your last moment to speak to the only other person who ever cared what you had to say. 

The line rang only twice before she picked up, and before she could say anything you spoke, “It’s over.” You breathed, “They found me.” 

“What?” Eunhwa asked, and you could hear a door close, “No, that can’t be–”

For the first time in your life, you cut her off, “It’s okay.” You breathed out shakily, “I lived a bit.” You wanted to say you were ready to die, but you weren’t. You weren’t and the fact made you envious of your past self. A puppet with no concept of a life to live can’t fear death.

“No you didn’t.” She seethed, making your jaw clench. She was right. Your life had just barely started. You still had so much to learn and so many things to do that were now evaporating right before your eyes, “Are you sure they’re going to kill you?” She asked, and your brows scrunched.

“They’ve been looking for me this long.” You pointed out, “Why would they keep me alive? Even if Jungkook were to plead my case.” 

“Why would they kill you though?” Her voice was too hopeful for you, but you let her speak anyway, “Why would they kill someone they’ve been pursuing this hard?” 

“Eunhwa–” You were cut off by a sharp knock on the door that made your stomach fall, “Thank you.” 

“Don’t talk like that.” She hissed, but you could hear the quiver in her voice, “I-I’m going to make a few calls and–” The knock on your door pounded louder this time, and you smiled sadly. 

“I have to go.” You simply said before hanging up. You took a deep breath before approaching the door. You figured death was best faced without thought. You had spoken to the one person from your past life that would miss you, and that was enough. 

The doorknob was unbelievably cold in your hand as you opened it. You didn’t realize you were looking down until you were left to stare at the fanciest pair of dress shoes you’d seen in a while. Finally, you looked up to face the man before you, and it was like time stopped for a moment. Something about his sharp eyes was eerily familiar, and it nearly gave you a headache trying to think about it. 

Yoongi on the other hand, found himself blown away by you. Finally, after years of searching and clawing his way through unwritten records of the underground, here you were. Right under his nose this whole time. How many times had he passed you in the elevator or in the mail room? You were beautiful, stunning even, so how could he have missed you for this long? He watched you drink him in with knitted brows and a brief flash of recognition nearly made him jump back. Could you truly recognize him, even after all you went through since? 

“Do… Do I know you?” You asked, and Yoongi smiled. You could see the melancholy dripping from the expression, making you feel even more uneased, “Are you here to kill me?” You asked, voice smaller than you hoped but you supposed it wasn’t going to matter much pretty soon. 

“Quite the opposite.” He quickly corrected you. Yoongi couldn’t kill you even if he wanted to. You may not be able to recognize him, but he’d know your face anywhere. It was his one comfort for a long time until it was ripped from him, “May I come in?” He raised a brow and you shrugged. 

“I don’t suppose I have much of a choice.” You mumbled under your breath before walking to your couch. 

Yoongi shut the door behind him, studying your form. Even in this despaired state, you were full of more life than he’d ever seen before. A smidge of jealousy boiled in his blood at the realization Jungkook got to see you laugh and act aloof like a friend would this whole time. He shook it off, sitting on the armchair next to the evidently second-hand furniture you sat on, “Needless to say, I am involved with Bangtan.” You nodded, eyes clouded with a million different emotions, “I am Min Yoongi, one of the seven bosses.” You sat on the couch next to the chair, never taking your eyes off of him.

“I don’t recognize you like I do Namjoon.” You spoke, studying his face further. 

He flashed you a tight smile, heart panging from hearing you say you don’t recognize him, “I’m in charge of running our underground operations and appearances.” He explained and your mouth formed a small O for a moment. 

“Wait.” You spoke, studying him further, “Min…” His surname stuck to your lips for a reason you couldn’t place, “I know that name I…” You bit your lip, you prided yourself on remembering faces and placing them just as well, but something about him clouded that ability, “Did I…” 

“No, I don’t have a vendetta against you.” He shook his head, and you scrunched your brows, “I do against your father and uncle, but you’ve done nothing to harm me.” He spoke, “It’s why we plan to let you live.” 

“And not them.” You finished for him, heart dropping a bit when he nodded. You knew you should’ve been more upset hearing that your father and uncle were to be murdered, but you didn’t care too much if you were being honest. It wasn’t as if they would’ve felt any different if the roles were reversed, even if the child in you was mourning them.

However, Yoongi was unnerved by your lack of reaction, “Does that upset you?” He asked, genuinely unable to tell. 

“Not really, no.” You spoke honestly, not wanting to nor trained in the art of lying all that well, “So I get to live?” The glimmer of hope in your eyes squeezed at his chest in a way that made him shift a bit.

“In exchange for something else.” He confirmed, and your body went stiff as you waited for him to continue, “Your time and knowledge.” 

You sighed. Fuck, you were screwed if he needed you to know anything of use, but most importantly, you were tired, “If you think I’m at all still connected to the Underworld…”

“No, no.” He stopped you short, and you looked at him quizzically, “I would’ve found you long ago if you were.” You nodded, and his confidence was all you needed in order to see him for what he was. He was the man who triggered the downfall of your family. You wanted to hate him for it, but you couldn’t, not really, “We all agreed to hire you on as our new nurse” Your breath hitched at his words, mind swimming with a million different things, “We will compensate you for your time and stock whatever supplies you need. You will also have our protection.”

You nodded, but you could hardly believe it, “Who will be my patients?” You asked.

“The seven of us.” He didn’t need to elaborate much further than that, “The lower echelons have their own designated medical services.” He explained, and you were a little impressed by it it all. Your father’s organization was not nearly this… well, organized. You and Eunhwa were the primary medical services for the upper echelons and the lower members had to fend for themselves.

“And can I still have my current job?” You asked, and you breathed a sigh of relief when he nodded. 

“Yes, it’s best that way.” He confirmed, “If any of us need you during your work hours, we will make sure to tell you beforehand so we can coordinate that in a way that doesn’t look suspicious.” He said, but it all sounded too good to be true. 

You fixed a sharp look on him, “What else?” 

He sighed, “Tomorrow, we plan to have you come forward.” You had to grip the couch to stop your bones from turning to jelly at the fear that burned you from the inside, “Without revealing your identity fully, of course.” He quickly added, but it did nothing to ease you, and something about your evident panic made him feel sick, “We plan to have you announce your intent to bring your father and uncle to justice. It may draw the old man out.” He leaned forward, trying to catch your panicked gaze that’d been darting across the room, “All you have to do is record a voice line tonight, include something that only you would know, and send it to me.” He said, and it slowed your heart a mere fraction, “We will take care of the rest.” 

“How will you explain this to the public?” You asked, but he simply shook his head, “They’re going to demand my head I bet.” You were a cold-hearted killer. You knew that the few people that did hear of you firsthand had seldom good to say. Who even knew what your father publicized about you? You stayed away from the news because you didn’t need to know. 

“How scared you are right now tells me that the public will never have been so happy to be wrong about someone.” He mused, and your brows scrunched in confusion, “You were supposed to be some prissy spoiled heiress who killed when she bribed to.” 

“Bribed? Spoiled?” You balked, shaking your head, “That–” You didn’t even know what those words really meant until you met Jungkook, “How did–” 

“Your father controlled the narrative for a long time.” He spoke, words heavier than he knew, “He won’t now.” He spoke as if it were so simple, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but be honest about what kind of man he and Byungjoo were.” He chuckled, no amusement behind it, “Taehyung will be by in a bit to take your statement and give you the contract.” He stood, and you wanted to complain about Taehyung being the one to do it. However, you held your tongue, only nodding, obedient as ever and you hated it. But what choice did you have? 

“Yes, sir.” You sighed, and the silent submission made Yoongi feel disgusted with himself. 

“No need for that.” He shook his head, making you look up at him in confusion, “Please, just call me Yoongi.” His plea was a little too noticeable, but you nodded anyway, “I’m not your father nor your uncle.” He said softly, but that was only something you would believe when you saw it for yourself, “Were they…” He stopped, trying to think of how to ask such a thing, “You really weren’t spoiled or sheltered, were you?” He asked, already knowing just by how you looked away. 

“No, not in the way you think.” You breathed, “I was an employee more than anything.” You murmured, embarrassed for some reason, “I see that now more than ever.” 

“I see.” He simply said, “And Jungkook…” You stiffened at the mention, “Has he been good to you?” He asked against his better judgment. This wasn’t his business, no matter how much he wanted it to be. 

You nodded, and he felt his shoulders relax, “No one had ever been so kind to me.” You refrained from cursing him for bringing the Underworld back to your door. Not only were you unsure how angry you were, you doubted his boyfriend would fancy hearing it. 

“Good.” He simply said before taking his leave. 

—

“Look, I don’t want to be here anymore than you want me here,” Taehyung said when you opened the door to reveal him and Jungkook’s favorite MMA fighter, Park Jimin, at his side. You didn’t even have the energy to be surprised as he regarded you with as much hatred as Taehyung held, “So let’s get this over with.” He pushed past you to enter your apartment. Namjoon trailed behind them, at least having the decorum to nod at you.

You thought about introducing yourself to Jimin, but decided against it at his glare, “Right.” You simply breathed. 

“First, here’s the contract.” Jimin shoved the paper toward you as you read through it. You may not have been the best speaker or the best writer, but you could sure as hell read. Reading was all you could do for a long time. When you signed your name, his nose scrunched, “You write like a grade-schooler.” He spoke, and it pricked at your deepest shame. You had only been writing for the most part for five years.

The pen snapped in your hand, but you paid no attention to the ink that spilled onto your skin, “Fuck you.” You hissed, taking him aback for a moment. 

“Watch it.” Taehyung snapped, pausing as he set up the equipment. 

“I don’t talk back unless spoken to.” You snarled, moving to wash the ink off, “I don’t need this from either of you, especially not tonight.” You sat at the table, waiting for him to position the mic, “So let’s just get this over with, I have work tomorrow.” 

“Everyone relax.” Namjoon finally spoke, “We can be adults about this.” He glared at the three of you, before letting his gaze land on you, “I’m going to ask you questions, and you respond accordingly.” You nodded. 

“Okay, Ms. Moon, I say as this is not your real last name, please address your father Byungyeol.” He spoke into the mic. You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. What the hell was there to say? You had laid it all out to him five years ago. You had shown true and genuine weakness, real desperation, and he didn’t hesitate in turning his back to you. 

You looked at Namjoon, expression totally lost and much more vulnerable than you wanted. Something about the way you looked like a puppy tugged at his heartstrings a bit in a way he didn’t understand, “What? Don’t wanna disparage your precious dad?” Taehyung taunted, snapping the CEO from his trance.

Your eyes snapped to him in a sharp glare, “How many times do I have to tell you that you don’t know one thing about me?” You seethed, but he looked less than convinced. 

“Look, just pretend he was rotten and mean and you’re scared of him.” Jimin spoke to you as if you were a child, and it only made you angrier, “You should be used to lying, come on princess.” 

“Enough!” Namjoon silenced the two men, “If you upset her it’ll show in her statement.” He spoke, as cold as ever, “Behave.” He ordered before looking to you, “Now, tell me is Byungyeol a good man?” 

“No.” You spoke, immediately, and you were both disappointed when he waited for you to elaborate and you had nothing to say. You didn’t know how to do this, and it pissed you off. Jungkook knew how to keep you talking all the time, and so did Eunhwa, but outside of them, you were a mere soundboard. Namjoon could see the frustration on your face, and it unsettled him. 

Why were you having such a hard time talking? He looked around the room to see his lovers glaring harshly down at you and figured maybe that was the reason. He sighed, “How is she supposed to feel comfortable saying anything with you two looking at her like that?” He asked, shaking his head, “Bring Jungkook or Hoseok in.” He waved them off with a sigh. 

“No, it’s fine.” You grit out, the pride in you swelling, “They can think what they want to.” You didn’t even dignify them with a glare, “Again.” You nodded at Namjoon who finally broke his disbelieving look at you with a sigh. 

“Okay.” He fixed his tie despite this whole thing only being audio, but you supposed it just made sense he was constantly aware of his appearance, “Let’s try a different approach.” He announced, “Just talk directly to your father.” He said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world, “Tell him to turn himself in and be sure to mention something only you would know. Do the same with your uncle for the sake of optics.” He ordered and you wanted to say you weren’t sure if your father committed his actions towards you to memory. Odds are many of those days and nights tattooed in your memory weren’t out of the ordinary for him, as mundane as brushing his teeth. However, you shut your mouth. It wasn’t your problem if it didn’t work. 

You nodded and he gestured for you to start after Taehyung clicked the record button, “Father, I…” You took a deep breath as you tapped on your thigh mindlessly, “I think it’s time to atone for your sins.” Your words were shaky, “Remember? We don’t show fear, and you shouldn’t now.” The words were heavy on your tongue, “You told me that you find me in three years… that we would be a normal family after I begged you not to leave me alone, all by myself in a world I never got to see.” You wanted to choke on your father’s false promise, “It’s been five years since that day, and I’ve grown up a lot since then. I understand now more than ever how wrong you were about so much, and I have solemnly accepted the consequences of my actions under your guidance.” Your leg began bouncing as you spoke, “It’s time for you and uncle to do the same.” You tried to think of anything else to say, but it was all you had, so you looked at Namjoon, “Good?” 

His eyes were clouded, and you were unable to make out how exactly he felt. However, one thing remained that was clear, he was undeniably skeptical of you. That was fine, you didn’t need his trust, you just needed your heart to be beating, “Yeah, that’ll do for now.” He nodded to Jimin and Taehyung, “If he doesn’t come forward, we may need more.” You nodded, and that was thankfully enough for him. 

“You can let yourselves out.” You sighed, “I’m exhausted, so goodnight.” You didn’t bother to wait for a response as you turned on your heel and shut your bedroom door behind you. 

Namjoon opened his mouth to mention that they didn’t have a key, but you didn’t seem to care anyway. He sighed, a mix of conflicting emotions swirling in his chest as Taehyung packed up. 

“She’s the worst.” Tarhyung grumbled under his breath as Jimin curtly nodded. Namjoon rolled his eyes, knowing the two men well enough to see when they felt a twinge of regret. It was obvious at least some of what they heard about you was incorrect– if your statement was to be believed, that is.

----------------------

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Masterlist

[skylarmoon71]

Bumblebee (Transformers) - Chapter 1

Meeting Bumblebee and Sam was possibly the best thing to happen in your life. At heart you’d always been a nerd. In high school that really wasn’t a flex. You always sort of knew Sam. He was constantly running a little hussle on the side. 

It was adorable. 

But after the fight in the national city, things changed. Sam changed and then you met his cousin Bumblebee. You just assumed it was some kind of nickname. Your little crew had expanded. It was just you, Sam, Mickeala and Bee. You couldn’t have been happier. Especially since they were the only ones that seem to believe your theory of alien existence. 

Most people thought it was just a phase, but you were a scientist and you’d been studying the markings and messages since the battle that the government tried to cover up. 

They said it was an international attack and everyone just believed it. 

None of it made sense. 

You were determined to prove that with the help of your friends. 

“Bee! You won’t believe what I found!!” 

His blue eyes sparkled at your call, brown hair a bit tousled from whatever activity he’d been doing in the living room of the Witwicky household. You had pretty much become a member of the family. 

“Well Hello (Y/N) it’s always nice to see you. Can I get you anything?” Judy asked. You shook your head. 

“No thanks Mrs. Witwicky, I just had a scientific breakthrough. Come on Bee!!” 

You grabbed his hand, leading him to the backyard as you dropped your bag. With notebook in hand, you flipped the pages taking a seat as Bumblebee joined you. 

“What did you find?” He looked intrigued. The second his eyes landed on the symbols you drew, he swallowed. 

“I’ve been trying to decipher these for months and I think I finally cracked the code. “ 

There were a few scribbles, and next to the foreign writing was a few notes. “ 

“Bee these symbols have to be alien and I think I figured out what this one means. It says prime.” 

He was impressed that you were even able to translate the writing. 

“Of course there’s a lot more, it has to be, but I don’t have the entire message. So prime must mean something. In a lot of other languages it means savior or leader.” Your brows were furrowed as you reached for your computer from your bag, pulling up some sites to correlate. 

“Whatever it means, I'm getting close, I can feel it. I’m almost done with my radio system too. Plus John said that if I helped him with the last three cars that I could use the junkyard to hook up my portal. “ You did a little cheer. 

“It’s all starting to look up!!” 

You were overly excited, and Bee wanted to share your joy. But he couldn’t. Because all the answers you were looking for were right in front of you. It killed him not to tell you the truth, but Optimus was very clear about involving anyone else in this war. While they had an alliance with the navy, it was agreed that staying hidden, at least for the time being, was the best call. There were still Decepticons out there hunting them. Wanting to cause harm to the human race. They couldn’t allow that. 

“I’m protecting her.” 

That’s what he kept telling himself. 

Everyone around you knew the truth and Bee was worried that when you did find out, it wouldn’t be as exciting as you hoped. 

“Hey Bee, you okay?” 

You took notice of the sadden expression. He looked up, letting out a breath and he forced himself once again to lie to you for your safety. 

“I’m fine, I just did really bad on a test recently.”

“Why didn’t you say anything! It’s algebra isn’t it? I can help you. This alien stuff can wait. I have plenty of time to become a scientific genius. First I gotta make sure my best friend makes it through high school.” 

You placed all your items down with a grin, and the pit in his stomach just became worse. You literally just dropped everything to help him because you thought he was struggling. His spark felt a bit cold in his chest. 

“Come on, let’s go study.” You started shoving your items into your bag as you nudged his shoulder with a giggle. When you moved to the door, Sam came running out. 

“Bee Opti-Uh I mean your dad needs to talk to you pronto!!” 

Bumblebee’s eyes lifted, and you looked a bit worried. 

“Is your dad doing okay?” 

He almost forgot that even Optimus’s existence was another cover story. 

Bumblebee nods. 

“He’s doing better.” He assured you.

As far as you knew his father had an illness, hence his reason for living with Sam. You’d never even question why you were never able to meet him. One night you’d just sat down and told him that you understood what it was like losing a parent to an illness. You’d been raised by your grandparents. You barely remembered your parents because you’d lost them so early in life. Then shortly after you’d lost your grandfather. Now it was just you and your grandmother. 

His gut twisted, and he bid you goodbye, following Sam out the door. He hoped that this distraction would help his conscience. 

[tobiasdrake]

love your db analysis posts! i'd love to hear your thoughts on ultimate gohan, if you have any. between him having little to no reaction to finding out everyone on earth is dead, and randomly letting gotenks fight buu instead of himself, he did not seem to be the same character at all to me, and iirc even piccolo says so, i just... find it hard to believe a non-rage-triggered power-up would do that to him.

Much like Android 16, I do wonder if there were more plans for Ultimate Gohan that wound up being scrapped by the shift in narrative direction.

We're first introduced to the concept of Ultimate Gohan as the Elder Kaioshin is explaining his abilities.

Gohan's dormant power has long been a recurring attribute of his character. In fact, this isn't the first time he's had an elderly sage draw out his dormant power.

Teaching him to draw out and control his dormant abilities was (stealthily) part of Goku's training with him. That Gohan was finally starting to make it his own and tap into his true ki is the reason for why he was repeatedly unimpressed by Goku's abilities.

Gohan didn't even realize it, but through his mastery of the Super Saiyan, he'd also begun to take control of and internalize the tremendous ki he'd always had stored away in him. And as he came into his own ki, what he could sense of Goku's ki proportional to his own didn't make sense to him.

Super Saiyan 2 was, then, the culmination of Gohan's development. His full power, channeled through the Super Saiyan and its amplifying effects - both for better and, uh, for worse.

But it's been seven years and Gohan's been indulging in his true love of academia, in accordance with the agreement Goku and Chi-Chi made about his future.

Goku may have successfully escaped having to get a job by conveniently dying at the last possible second, but Gohan's future is set on a course. He's going to be an academic. It's what Chi-Chi wants for him, and it's what Gohan wants for himself; Even Goku acknowledges that.

Seven years of rigorous study and zero martial arts practice later, Gohan isn't the guy anymore. In fact, examining just how much Gohan isn't the guy anymore is the whole point of his fight with Dabra.

Goku eyeballs Dabra as being roughly around Cell's power. This allows Dabra to serve as a yardstick for Gohan, so we understand what it means for him when he fails to measure up.

Gohan that was a Zanzoken/Afterimage. Nobody even does those anymore. They became obsolete after ki-sensing was normalized, because everyone can now easily sense which "image" is the real one. The one other time we saw a Zanzoken return post-23rd Tenkaichi Budokai, it was against Frieza, who can't sense ki.

Dabra is mocking you right now. He legit thinks you're so shitty at martial arts that you'll fall for this amateur-hour guff. And he's right.

I kinda feel Geets here. If I had to watch my last chance to ever fight my rival get wasted on this, I'd be losing my mind too. He fucking fell for a Zanzoken; Can I just take over already?

So. Yeah. Full Power Gohan isn't a thing anymore. He can still tap into the form - and for some inexplicable reason so can Goku and Vegeta - but this is no longer Peak Potential. Which is where the Elder Kaioshin comes in.

This is a classic formula of Dragon Ball. We've seen it in the RRA, Piccolo, Saiyan, Namek (twice!), and Android arcs. First, Goku gets the shit kicked out of him - sometimes even to the point of being presumed dead.

While the surviving cast members scurry about trying to find a way to face the bad guy, Goku - sometimes unbeknownst to them, sometimes not - is recovering and preparing to come back stronger than ever. This typically takes the form of some sort of godly trial or ordeal guaranteed to make him stronger than ever.

Then, at the 11th hour when all else has failed and all hope is lost, Goku makes his return to have one last epic battle for the fate of the world/universe/cosmos.

This is the Dragon Ball formula. Has been since the day the Four-Star Dragon Ball saved Goku's life from a lethal Dodonpa. Of course, getting Gohan back up to speed isn't going to be enough, since Majin Buu in his weakest form was able to do this to our Cell-adjacent yardstick.

I wonder what Dabra Cookie tastes like? I imagine it's like the wafer part of a Keebler cookie. Sugary and nice on its own but better with fudge.

So. Yeah. If Gohan's going to throw hands with Buu, he's going to need more than the power he fought Cell with. Fortunately, that's the Elder's specialty, and what makes this different than that other time Gohan had his dormant power drawn out.

That's right, we're limit-breaking again. Not the limits of human ability, the limits of Saiyan ability, or even the limits of Super Saiyan ability; We're limit-breaking Gohan specifically. Elder Kaioshin's abilities can not only draw out Gohan's full dormant ability but push it beyond Gohan's natural limits.

Full Power Gohan? Nah. This is Limit-Breaker Gohan. Not his full potential; Beyond his potential. Something entirely different from the Super Saiyan, but similar enough that he doesn't require much alternative instruction.

Kinda feels like a thing that shouldn't be able to exist, to be honest. After all the time that's been put into things like the strain of the Kaio-ken on a body, the effects of Frieza having power beyond his limits, or even what trying to use Super Saiyan 3 in a mortal body does to Goku in this very arc.

The idea of Gohan channeling ki beyond his limits seems like it should have some drawbacks, doesn't it? We do get some hints that something's weird about Gohan's new power. Piccolo can't even recognize his ki signature in this state.

This form is doing some weird shit to his ki. And, as Piccolo notes, Gohan's harder now. Gohan is here to take care of business, and nothing is going to get in his way.

But. Then. The switch happens. Suddenly, Gohan is no longer the protagonist and we need a way for Majin Buu to suddenly be too much for Gohan to handle. So we go from this:

To this:

In the span of two chapters. All so that Buu can ass-pull a brand new ability that's never once been mentioned before even though Kaioshin will later cop to having seen him do it twice, that will instantly make Ultimate Gohan stop being a solution to this problem two chapters after his debut.

A plan that, in fact, he began putting into place one chapter after Ultimate Gohan's debut. Never in the history of Dragon Ball has a brand new form or ability been obsoleted this quickly.

And then Gohan was basically thrown in the dumpster and this was never spoken of again, with Ultimate Gohan just becoming his new Strongest Transformation in follow-up products. You can feel the climactic final act being aggressively aborted around him, in favor of Goku and Vegeta's third act.

Hell, at one point, Goku even suggests bringing in Gohan to fight Pure Buu. Y'know. Since Ultimate Gohan is the strongest in the universe and all that. But Vegeta nopes it.

No explanation offered. He's just like, "That's not the plot anymore; Try to keep up, Kakarot." To be fair, Goku had a chance to bring Gohan into this too. They're both aggressively elbowing Gohan out of the spotlight here.

Mad disrespect.

[hsuyee]

Crazy fan-theory / AU: what if Rosie was the one who has Alastor on his leash?

Alright, hear me out on this theory about Alastor and Rosie in "Hazbin Hotel." So, in the show, it seems like Alastor just casually strolls into Rosie's territory, asks for help, and boom, she's down with it. But let's dive deeper.

Rosie mentioned, "And old Alastor has never done me wrong before," hinting at a history between them. What if they had a binding demonic deal going on? Like, Alastor brings souls to Rosie, boosting her power, and in return, she hooks him up somehow? Maybe it all started with them teaming up to hunt demons, with Alastor broadcasting screams on his Radio Station, and Rosie's crew feasts on the literal bodies like an all-you-can-eat-buffet clean up crew. But then, because of some vague or confusing wording that created a "backdoor" in the deal, it twisted in Rosie's favour.

Alastor and Rosie working together isn't an implausible scenario, since we know Vox approached Alastor to team up as well. Now, why did Alastor pick Rosie over Vox? Simple. He found Vox too brutish and preferred Rosie's refined persona. He also just didn't vibe with Vox's goals: Alastor doesn't respect Vox because Vox doesn't respect his professional medium. Vox wants influence using media in the way the media corporations of real-life owns and influences us. Alastor takes pride in his radio profession, sees it as an art form from simpler but more refined times. To him, it was an easy choice between Rosie and Vox.

So, when Alastor brings Charlie to Rosie, he's not doing anyone a favor. It's a win-win for Alastor. He wins if Charlie + Cannibals lose because Rosie will be weakened and its not like the Cannibals are his people, and he ALSO wins if Charlie wins because then the Princess of Hell is indebted to him. He didn't have such high stakes in the gamble at all.

He definitely miscalculated his own strength when he faced Adam, and regrets it. Alastor likely thought he could take on Adam as equals. The fight worked out well enough in the beginning, Alastor was able to easily dodge Adam in his childish rage, and severely underestimated the First Man. Alastor knew that Vox would be watching, if not broadcasting it, so it was also an opportunity for Alastor to show off his sheer power to the masses.

Alastor is ADAMANT to remind all of Hell he is back, and just as fearsome. During his song against Vox: "♪ Let's begin... I'm gonna make you wish that I stayed gone. Tune on in... When I'm done, your status quo will know its race is run, Oh, this will be fun! ♪".

But his plan backfired BAD, and it made Rosie stronger because her people got to reap the rewards of the battle. EVEN WORSE, Alastor was wounded and nearly died.

"Great Alastor Altruist died for his friends?"

If he HAD died, the citizens of Hell would've thought he died for his friends since he, a powerful and feared overlord, has lived at this Hotel that supported the ridiculous notion of betterment and redemption. Completely against his personal brand. Word has surely spread of his return, especially news regarding his questionable choice of residence. In his breakdown song, it wasn't Alastor having an internal conflict between "omg I can't believe I nearly died for my friends??? These people?????? what the fk??" but more "i fked up, and this makes MORE people think i'm soft and weak, sacrificing myself for OTHERS".

So Alastor went back, because Charlie's team had won, as Plan B. Even if Alastor lost is fight against Adam, who could blame him? Charlie trusts him more now, and owes him BIG TIME. Not only because Alastor reached out to his 'friend' to help her, but he also nearly died fighting the biggest and most powerful person from the enemy team. With Charlie owing him big time now and their binding deal in play, Alastor's favor can be way more significant.

As for Alastor's initial interest in the hotel, it's likely he saw it as a chance to cozy up to the Princess of Hell and maybe gain some leverage to get out of his deal somehow.

I still can't rationalize the coincidence of Alastor and Lilith disappearing at the same time, so I'm going to ignore that for now.

[beril66]

So I am reading banger character analysis of various necron characters from people like Ghost and Magistralucis so I wanted to put my two sents in about two things; the absolute HYPOCRISY of Orikan the Diviner and necrons as a whole;

Those who have read I&D no doubt remember the incredible Opera scene. It was probably the most profound part of the entire book; more than their hilarious feud , their team up aganist Orks and subsequent betrayals , their clashes of importance of culture and history and complete disregard of it even if its your own (put a pin on that we'll come back to this) , the heartwrenching flashes of memories or even the final kaiju battles at the end. These two old coots finally FINALLY have to breath methaphorically and just...talk.

Well mostly Orikan talks. Conveniently 'just' remembering it was Trazyn who dragged him into the biofurnaces (even if you think for a MOMENT it's while possible HIGHLY improbable.) So he engages Trazyn in the way it would impact him the most. Through cultural analysis. Both @ghostinthegallery and @magistralucis did analysis on these scenes better than I ever could and I want to a particular parts of Orikan's speech because even as I know practically nothing about 40k or necrons (I&D is my first 40k book) it always made me laugh out loud at the absolute GALL of it.

"Children of Important people, judging by their clothing, though Orikan had no interest in this world or its Byzantine ideas of hierarchy' and

"but we call each other low and bumbling because we are highly civilized"

I legit laughed myself silly here before the gut punch of their interaction continued because... the ridiculous amount of lack of self awareness and hypocrisy just absolutely stunned me.

This is the SAME species who before the biotransference killed each other for basically for sport.

The same species who calls those who are in the lower class as 'it' and has literal philosophical works that brings their SAPIENCE AND SENTIENCE into question (Aristotle would be PROUD)

The same species where a crown prince can get away with shooting 50 commoner soldier in the head as a 'LESSON IN RULING' .

Same species STILL in some cases look down on Imotekh the fucking Stormlord just because he is apparently a 'sandborne'.

Same species who turned their entire lives and culture into a death cult.

The same species who seem to ironically instead of uniting and searching for a cure of their condition just continue to paint galaxy in red with their own and other species blood.

The same race after Old Ones rejected them decided to not just fought aganist them but TRIED TO DESTROY EVERY OTHER PEOPLE THEY COME ACROSS until Old Ones kicked their asses enough.

Tangent here; I mostly agree Old Ones refusing to at least cure them of their cancers is a massive dick move but a counter argument can be made; if you saw a species like necrontyr spread in the galaxy conquering everything they see (and lets be honest here.. if they had vassal species they most likely treat them worse than any Sand born) and the only thing keeping them in check is their sickness , internal political bullshit and equevalant species...would you help them?

And after ALL OF THAT you just...turn each on other and start to REALLY go at it to the point you get the attention of hungry melicious star parasites.

After completely ignoring the increasingly desperate warnings of your almost always correct court astromancer and paint him as insane and a charlatan;

THEN these things, using higher echelon's desperation for eternal life fool you into turning your entire race into soulless terminators because suprise!! During your transformation of course the 'gods' duped you and not only they stuck you into sub-optimal metal coffins , not only (some lore bits implies nobility %100 aware and content) %95 precent of your population is lobotomized , not only you are made to forget %98 of your entire culture even forget where your homeworld is , not only you sacrificed every single class of your young children and will NEVER have future generations EVER, but the cherry on top of this shit cake is your souls are gobbled by said star parasites and also ALL of you, SK included turned into their slaves.

So you and your new masters start a 5 million years worth of war so horrific you give chaos such a power boost , killed about %80 of the galaxy , forced psykic frogs into tearing the first anus in reality and drove the possibly only species keeping the Chaos Gods in check into (possible) extinction. You fucked the afterlife for everyone else until the heat death of the universe in Milky Way.

After that little debacle you turn on your gods , fought them, shatter them (and 'kill' one that in some shape harmed the reality) then after seeing the absolute devestation your gods and kind inflicted go to 60 millions of years of sleep which lets be honest helped more than hurt as mental problems were cropping up BEFORE the end of the war (TDK)

Now you are waking up and did you learn ANYTHING from all of the 5 million worth of life experience?

They learned jackshit thats what happened. Every single sapient necron even the likes of Trazyn, even Zhandrekh are still making the SAME mistakes and inflicts same cruelties they kind always had done.

Trazyn is at the end of the day is a thief and a kidnapper. I&D happened BECAUSE he was so stubborn to steal that gem he wounded the World Spirit and caused the Deciever shard to gain enough power by sending some Aeldari souls his way before Slaanesh can take them. My guy killed an ENTIRE WORLD for a joke.

We all know the reason he is so obsessed with his work is to keep himself sane and have a purpose but just imagine the GOOD he can do. He library rivals the actual BLACK LIBRARY in universe. He tried to help at Cadia and it was amazing to see but at the end of the day even Trazyn didn't seem to grasp that the galaxy is dying in front of him and he can CHANGE that. Or unwilling. This is the worst attributes of the necrons; not caring when they actually really SHOULD.

Zhandrekh is as much as the setting allows is a good man. He could be considered kind even in Flesh Times. He is an honourable man. He is also a terrifyingly competent warlord serving Imotekh whose damage seems to be his insaitable desire to conquer and CONTROL (as much as we know GW for what? 8 years didn't characterized him other than "really clever , great general , obsession with proving his worth and control by dueling with strong opponents"). I think people forget about that about him. He didn't lost a SINGLE campaign aganist Imperium. My senile old sweet man is TERRIFYING.Not much more to say about him honestly he is a good dude in a horrific setting with dementia and married to his bodyguard.

Now lets come to Orikan. Orikan the Diviner is %100 has the right to be a resentful bastard to his own people. He tried so hard to stop the catasthrophy of biotransference. Not only he didn't succeed but they THROW HIM AGANIST HIS WILL into the fires.

What I really like about him however is while he is a venomous , back stabbing little bastard who takes a little too much pleasure of his people' suffering he has these...flashes that shows there is SOMETHING kinder underneath deep deep DEEP down. He didn't want to destroy Serenade. Interestinf thing about him is he only refers to humans as an "it" ONCE. And thats a corpse something even we do. These are very small but it shows Orikan ISN'T just a complete and utter douchbag XD

That being said Orikan abject denial of basically anything positive about anything or anyone necron or not shows how small minded he can be. His destruction of necrontyr artifacts, his dismissal of human anything without giving it a try (like apperantly SK prepared shadow puppet theater for palace kids? How is that a drivel Orikan???) Etc. He simultaneously despises everything necrontyr/necron that ISN'T his or Vishani's provess in their fields yet claims total superiority in everything Necrons do as he insults them. He is the single most hypocritical character bar chaos SM.

Don't get me wrong its a great character work and shows us how flimsy necron identity even is. Because minus general archetypes of their dynasties they have...none. Soulless God Killers isn't an identity. It's the curse of their entire species however metal (pun intended) it is to turn your treacherous gods into cattle. At the end of the day however advanced tech they possess or claims to have high manners (if they are sentient enough) or 'elegance' they are as barren as a civilization can get in all account bar tech.

And the fact that they can call themselves 'Civilized' making me giggle for the sheer absurdity of it BECAUSE they equate technological advancement as 'Cultured amd civilized'.

Necrons while I LOVE THEM and want them to have a happy ending (I want that for all species honetly everyone is horrible in 40k its okay :D) are the indisputed the WORST people in this shithole of a galaxy.

Imperium in many ways are lightyears ahead of us technologically would we call them civilized? Aeldari despite all their tech and arts were creating blood orgies on bodies of sacrificed children and I didn't met many people who would consider even the today's Crafworld Aeldari civilized.

Necrons are the same as these two. There is beside technology and cultural ticks no difference between them. Orikan calls the class system of Serenade 'Byzantine ideas' while he himself is subjected to the EXACT SAME THING in Mendragora court.

So if we rib on the Imperium and Aeldar...why shouldn't we on necrons?

All the races of the Milky Way are sides of a multi-faced coin (except Tyranids obviously). Bloodthirsty , cruel savages with certain exceptions in characters because they are marginally less shitty than the rest (Trazyn , Zhandrekh , Oltyx , Yenekh , Eldrad , Vulcan , Farsight , Shadowsun , Jaghatai Khan etc.) Who wants the same thing.

Necrons are just the most delusional of them all and its so tragic it loops back around to being funny. All races have fell from grace in Warhammer. The Necrontyr might be the only race started with very little redeeming qualities though. And the have not changed a SINGLE BIT in 65 fucking MILLION YEARS besides Oltyx (who because the Flayer King. A literal flesh tearing and wearing monster) . A single character. This is beyond horrific when you think about it.

Ironically in 40k DAOT humans might have been the most civilized race ever existed. They had peace treaties with ORKS. Interex have not eradicated Mega-arachnids just banished them to a world where they can live and let live. Diasporex just wanted to be left alone. Humanity even Aledari used to have compassion. Necrontyr and necron minus few never had that as a SOCIETY. Not to their own NOT to others. (I am not humans fuck yeah! In the slightest but...history speaks for itself)

And with their souls gone it seems something needs to shake them up so badly to start actual REFLECTION of eho they have been/who they are. Because with the way the are going...their minds will give long before their bodies do.

Sooo...this is my 'analysis' of the hypocrisy of Orikan and Necrons as a whole considering them so above all despite being in the same mudpit wirh other races. Would love to hear your opinions do you agree? Disagree?

[theothersecret]

I need to say this so bad guys have you seen Nimona? Balister. Balister guys. I’m about to spoil the movie so spoiler warning for Nimona, this is also and primarily about Kaladin Stormblessed btw

First of all Jessie Gender made a review of this movie and the new Spiderverse movie and she described what I’m about to attempt to way better than I ever could so here’s the link to her explanation.

But basically watching Nimona gave me so many feelings and also a great example of what frustrates me about Kaladin’s character, so here I go again-

What frustrates me the most about how Kaladin is treated in canon is that we see how much Alethkar has failed him, and every darkeyed person, and every Parshman, and yet Kaladin’s badassery arch is supposed to be how he proves himself as a Knight Radiant. This system that’s failed him continues to do so throughout the whole series, getting better at times in portrayal, but that’s the way Alethkar has functioned for so long. We’re meant to see that not all lighteyes but to be perfectly honest it frustrates me that the people still making the big decisions in this series are the people the system brings into power, not Kaladin, not the other “underdog” types. He still works under them and constantly deals with the ways Alethkar’s rules about eye color have shaped all of the people he interacts with. Like Jessie says, nobody’s made to change for Kaladin. He has to change for them.

And even worse is that the other huge conflict Kaladin faces is his internal struggle with mental health and his relationship to himself. Kaladin’s perspective of his worth and what he deserves is royally fucked because of the trauma he’s gone through and the ways he’s dealt with it. Kaladin does not believe that he’s a good guy who deserves to be happy and deserves respect. He’s a depressed lower class darkeyed soldier, previously enslaved, that saw his brother die in war, something that is part of Alethkar’s very foundation and core values, something that is undeniably out of his control and built so deeply into the system, and yet Kaladin feels like he failed his brother. He assigned himself the guilt and responsibility for what happened because he was in the battle, not realizing that the anger he holds toward the men in charge is completely called for. Not realizing that he was a teenage child soldier who literally could not have done shit to control anything about that event.

All of this build up for his character could have been so well executed—and that’s such a fucking shame. The stormlight archive is far from finished, but is Sanderson going to actually give Kaladin the arch that he, and the people who go through things synonymous with his struggles, deserves to see?

Going to my actual point bringing Nimona into this, Balister is a great example of what I wish to see be done with Kaladin. It’s a completely different scale of a story, but what I love about him is that he comes to realize that he was never going to be what he was promised he could be as a knight. He was recruited as a diversity hire and trained as a show of good faith towards “inclusion,” not justice. Not change. He realizes that the system he serves isn’t what he cares about, but instead what he cares about is the way the person he loves sees him. His focus shifts from earning his respect through serving a system that was never made for him, to opening his eyes to the pain he and others like him have had to endure, and sharing that pain whole heartedly to make a change.

If I could wish anything for Kaladin, it’s that he’s shown some damn respect. I want somebody to walk in on him getting frustrated with Dalinar, with Adolin or Shallan, and say, “What you’re thinking is right. You do not have to accept this.”

Because Kaladin’s struggles are so real, and Sanderson somehow managed to convey that, it’s so entirely possible to tie his arch together with those beliefs he has about himself and Alethkar being brought into the spotlight and reevaluated. I feel like Sanderson will probably (hopefully) do this with Kaladin’s struggles with guilt and shame, his pattern of assigning himself the blame for things outside of his control, and the aspects of his turmoil that are internal.

But my fear is that the same won’t happen for what’s happening outside of Kaladin. And this is where my opinions come into play, because I do not believe that a few good guys are going to enact the systematic change that needs to happen for like, half of Alethkar and probably beyond. I don’t think Kaladin can swear an oath to protect those who can’t protect themselves, and then sit back and aid the people who did this to them try to figure out how to not be bad. No, I think he should give those powerless people that power to protect themselves. I think the very best thing Sanderson could do with Kaladin as a character is to have him realize that he can’t save everyone, but he could fight for them to have a chance of defending themselves. That he’s been looking in the wrong places for what he needs. I would love love love to see him reprocess his memories, his internal beliefs about himself, and while he heals those long-ago formed wounds, come to reprocess alongside the lies he believed about himself, the lies he’s believed about how to save the world, and his place in it. I want his self love to be intrinsically tied to this. Imagine how fucking fantastic of an arch that would be for him.

[xxlady-lunaxx]

I'm not coming home | {SaneOba}

Theme: Angst

Note: I hate adding trigger warnings simply because it basically spoils the whole thing, but I have to add them so, TW's!!: implications of wanting to die/suicide

Spoilers!! (like in the next sentence)

Will take place after the Infinity Castle thing, Obanai lived, Mitsuri did not. You can choose to think of ObaMitsu as platonic or romantic, it really doesn't matter, they were just close before. Sanemi has been helping Obanai with his mental health (and uhm failing), guess where this is going<33

×××

It had been some time since the final battle and Sanemi was tired. Yes, he had been getting a lot more sleep recently than the past few years, but he was tired. Fuck, it wasn't even because of his sleep—although he was having trouble adjusting to this new sleep schedule. But putting that aside, the reason for his tiredness was Obanai.

Obanai was... putting it nicely, not okay. Mitsuri had died in his arms after Muzan's death, and he was in some sort of daze now, as if it would undo the damage. He ate less than he ever had—which was saying something—and he barely slept, barely moved, really. Sometimes, though, he would wander around, looking lost.

Sanemi had taken to caring for Obanai—the two had started dating, as well. It was rocky, their relationship, or just... their life. It wasn't easy, obviously. How could it be?

Before, at least, they had distractions. Missions, patrol, their own life constantly in peril danger. But there was nothing now. It was a relief, for a lot of the survivors. It was a relief to Sanemi and Obanai, as well. But in a way, it was also worse. Made life just a dull of objects and colors, a blur in the background. It was empty, no action, no... nothing.

Sanemi didn't necessarily mind, however. Obanai, on the other hand, was very affected by it. Horribly. And it was obvious. So obvious to the point that Tanjiro brought up the concern once, while passing by Sanemi at the market.

Sanemi assured him that he'd help as best he could, and that he already was. But it fed his worries about Obanai and he went in search for his boyfriend later, whom he hadn't seen in a bit. He found Obanai, later, sitting absentmindedly on a hill, his katana in his hand. He was staring at it as if it held the answers of the world, his hand running over the handle to the leather sheath.

"Obanai?" Sanemi asked, confused. He quickly made his way up the hill, plopping down next to the smaller man. 

"Hm?" Obanai turned, meeting Sanemi's eyes. The turquoise and golden eyes of Obanai's appeared unfocused, and he looked as tired as ever. 

"What're you doing here?" Sanemi said, frowning. He glanced down at Obanai's lap, where his katana sat. "And why do you have that?"

"Uhm. Just thinking," Obanai mumbled, closing his hand over the katana handle tightly. "Why?"

"You look tired and I haven't seen you all day," Sanemi said, sighing. He wrapped an arm around Obanai, urging him to lean against him. (does that make sense?)

Obanai shrugged. "I wanted some fresh air."

"Ah."

They were silent for a while. Sanemi took this opportunity to look around, finding that he could see a lot of a town below them, stretching far off into the distance. If he wasn't mistaken, that was the town the Hashira would usually wander around in their free time. More specifically, Mitsuri, who would eat a lot in one of the restaurants there.

With that, Sanemi realized Obanai had probably been down there, most likely reminising about Mitsuri. He grumbled internally, wanting to smack himself for his stupidity. Obanai must be feeling miserable because of this.

"So... Why do you have your katana?" Sanemi asked. The past Hashira and Demon Slayers had all kept their katanas and/or uniforms if they were still in tact, given that there wasn't any need to rid of them. But as far as Sanemi knew, most people's katana's were probably gathering dust somewhere in the back of their house as demon slaying hadn't been the best of most people's memories. 

Obanai looked away. "No reason."

The frown on Sanemi's face deepened. There was definitely a reason. It couldn't only be for the purpose of remembering, could it? Although just to feel the weight of the katana was enough to trigger a lot of memories.

"Right." Sanemi stood carefully, making sure he didn't drop Obanai's limp—and very light, he must add—body in the process. "When will you come back home? Tomioka's visiting later, so you probably want to get a bit of rest first."

"I'm not coming home," Obanai mumbled. The words were quiet, almost unaudible. Almost.

"What?" Sanemi turned back, having been half way through heading back down.

Obanai didn't say anything and Sanemi quickly retraced his steps back up, turning Obanai's body to look at him.

"What do you..." His eyes drifted down to Obanai's katana, clutched tightly in his hand. "No."

Obanai blinked quickly, turning his face away. 

"No, Obanai, don't you dare," Sanemi hissed, grabbing the part of the handle protruding from Obanai's fist.

Obanai fought back, tugging at it. "Go away, Sanemi," he said, a sudden harshness entering his voice.

Startled, Sanemi nearly let go, but quickly regained his grip on the katana. Having been taking a lot better care of himself recently—and just generally being stronger than Obanai—he managed to take the katana from his boyfriend, gripping it tightly. 

"Do not. Obanai, you cannot leave now. You're still young enough to have life to you, don't you fucking dare," Sanemi said, a burst of desperation hitting him. "I can't... can't lose you too."

Their eyes met and, for a second, Obanai returned the glare. But then all the fight seemed to seep out of him and he slumped down, his hair slipping over his face. 

"I'm sorry," Obanai whispered. "I have to."

Sanemi shook his head. "No. No, you don't and you won't. Fucking hell, what have you been thinking this whole time?! We're going back home, Obanai. C'mon," he said with a heavy sigh, hoisting Obanai's unhealthily light body onto his back.

Obanai's arms clasped themself loosely onto Sanemi's shoulders as Sanemi made a slow descent down the hill.

"You're going to sleep now, Obanai. I will not let you die," Sanemi said. He wouldn't allow it.

×××

« Word count: 1086 »

×××

there's more floof in this cuz... i feel bad and i love writing floof as much as angst

putting the part one and two in the same post because it's easier<33

×××

Obanai was asleep and Giyuu was at the door and Sanemi was in the kitchen. Sanemi was also panicking.

He heard the knock at the door and opened it, letting Giyuu enter.

Then he promptly went back to panicking.

Giyuu watched him pace around for a couple minutes before speaking up.

"Are you alright, Shinazugawa?" he asked. He had gotten better at talking recently, having had more time to focus on his social life. He was more vocal now and it was helpful, really. 

Sanemi stopped and stared at him. He had run his hand through his hair several times earlier so it looked like a mess, he had been muttering to himself and pacing around for almost an hour now, after putting Obanai to sleep, and he was tired. No, he was not alright.

"Obanai tried killing himself earlier," Sanemi said bluntly, deciding to go straight (gay) to the point.

Giyuu blinked. He had not been expecting that. "What?"

Sanemi groaned, striding forwards and hitting his forehead against the wall several times. "He brought his katana with him. He didn't even deny it."

Giyuu moved forward, pulling Sanemi away from the wall. "When?"

"Over an hour ago. I made him sleep," Sanemi said, gesturing to the hallway that led to Obanai's room.

"Ah. We should ask Aoi for help, she might know therapist or something," Giyuu murmured.

"Why the fuck would we ask a child?!" Sanemi said incredulously.

Giyuu sighed. "Because Kocho wanted to sign us up for therapy but we didn't have time. Aoi or Kanao might be of some help in this matter since they knew Kocho better."

"Bitch, we're adults. We can find a therapist ourself. But I doubt Obanai would speak to one, in the first place. He's... got a lot of personal shit he'd most likely rather not tell anyone," Sanemi pointed out. He crossed his arms, moving away from Giyuu. 

"Right. I don't know, then," Giyuu murmured.

Sanemi frowned, looking down at the ground. "I don't know either. I've been trying to help him, but I don't think it's working."

"Mm. How have you been trying?"

"Uhh..." Sanemi paused, racking his brain. "I've been keeping a close watch on his sleeping and eating schedules—which are somehow still fucked up. I try talking to him sometimes but he doesn't really... want to. He's quieter now, too. It's difficult to deal with, and it's fucking up my head."

Giyuu nodded as he spoke, thinking for a moment. "Try to just spend time with him, maybe? Instead of so obviously focusing on his mental and physical health, just take him out on walks or dates, and so on," he suggested. "Maybe it'll clear his mind."

Sanemi raised an eyebrow. "That's... I'm surprised I'd hear that from you, Tomioka. But I'll try that, sure."

Giyuu pouted. "What does that mean?!"

"You know, you're really childish for a twenty-one year old man," Sanemi deadpanned. 

"...go cheer up Iguro, then," Giyuu said, huffing and turning to the door.

Sanemi laughed. "Will do. Thanks," he called after Giyuu who was already outside.

"No problem... And good luck!" Giyuu said, lifting a hand in a wave before promptly slamming the door shut.

Sanemi rolled his eyes and locked the door before turning as he heard a different door open.

Obanai stumbled into the hallway, rubbing his eyes and fixing his bandages. He quickly spotted Sanemi and sank into his boyfriend's arms, hugging him tightly.

"You alright?" Sanemi asked, patting Obanai. 

He got a muffled "yes" in response. 

"Are you hungry?" he asked, picking up Obanai and hoisting him onto his hip.

Obanai pulled back slightly to make himself comfortable, wrapping his legs around Sanemi's waist. "No' really..." he mumbled, resting his head on Sanemi's shoulder. He seemed tired, still, and probably had forgotten about earlier. 

"Okay. Sleepy? Want to cuddle?" Sanemi offered, kissing his cheek.

"Mmmhm," Obanai hummed, nuzzling against him.

Sanemi smiled. "Whatever you want. You're awfully clingy today, you know..."

"Is'at bad?" Obanai asked, lifting his head up to look at Sanemi.

"Not at all. It's adorable."

"I'm not adorable."

Sanemi scoffed. "Keep telling yourself that."

Obanai grumbled but went back to hugging him as Sanemi made his way back to the bedroom, closing the door and laying down with Obanai wrapped around him.

The room was silent, only the sound of their breathing, bringing a comforting feeling to them, lulling them into sleep.

Sanemi awoke, he didn't know how long later, and glanced down at Obanai who stayed asleep in his arms. The blanket previously pulled over them had at one point gotten tangled up between their limbs and Sanemi struggled for a moment to pull it back onto them.

He glanced at the window which had curtains drawn over them. A dim light filtered through the fabric, however, telling him it was around late evening or night. He moved his hand up to run through the dark, tangled locks of Obanai's hair, wrapping his other arm back around his boyfriend.

A while later—about twenty or so minutes—Obanai stirred awake, blinking wearily at Sanemi. His hair was messy, despite Sanemi having been finger-combing it for nearly half an hour before, but he looked considerably less tired then he had before.

"S'nemi...?" he mumbled, moving forward and re-attaching himself to his boyfriend.

"Yes?"

"Goo' mornin'..." Obanai said, his voice muffled by his bandages and sleep.

"It's... night," Sanemi said, laughing gently. 

"Oh." Obanai sat up slowly, glancing at the window. "Is it bad that we're used to waking up at dusk and going to sleep at dawn?"

"...Probably." Sanemi sighed. "How do you feel, though?"

"I'm fine."

"Tired, still, or not?"

"I feel better," Obanai admitted, running a hand through his hair. 

"I'm glad to hear it," Sanemi said, sitting up and kissing the smaller man's forehead. "Hungry?"

"Not really." 

Sanemi frowned. "When have you last eaten?"

Obanai pouted, crossing his arms. "That's none of your concern!"

"It is! If I want to care for you, I need to know!" Sanemi said.

"I don't need caring for! I'm twenty-one! I can care for myself!" Obanai protested.

Sanemi raised an eyebrow. "What, and this morning wasn't some sort of indication that you can't?" He immediately regretted the words afterwards when Obanai seemed to cower away, remembering. "Sorry, Obanai, I didn't mean..."

Obanai shook his head, silencing him. "It's fine." He slumped back down onto the futon, burying himself in the blankets.

Sanemi sighed. "I'll make us some food."

"Alright..."

×××

Sanemi decided to take Giyuu's advice into action and, the next day, took Obanai out on a walk after lunch.

Obanai was clueless and just walked around, one hand clasped around Sanemi's, the other clutching a pebble he'd picked up earlier. They walked in silence, enjoying the outside for once. It was a nice day and the weather was mild, not cold nor hot. It was peaceful; spring could be like that. (Fun fact: it was spring after the war!! Because the sakura tree in the Butterfly Estate had been blooming) There was a heavy scent of flowers in the air, given the trees were blooming and, with the occasional burst of wind, flower petals would float down around them.

Sanemi was watching Obanai carefully and had been caught staring at him several times, leading to more awkward silence.

Eventually, irritated, Obanai asked, "What?" upon catching Sanemi looking at him again.

Sanemi bit his lip, turning his gaze back in front of them. Obanai stopped, though, holding Sanemi back by his hand. 

"What?" he repeated, more forcefully.

Sanemi shook his head. "It's nothing, just thinking."

Obanai huffed. "If you keep thinking about yesterday, I'm going to rip your head off."

"Be my guest," Sanemi murmured. "And it's not that"—which was partially true—"so don't worry about it. I was thinking about when we were Hashira. Days like today just went by unnoticed since we were usually resting or training."

Obanai rolled his eyes. "Oh, are you reminising now? Are you going to go on about a speech to appreciate what we have now?"

Sanemi laughed. "Do you want me to?"

"Fuck no."

"Good, because I wasn't. But... you really should," Sanemi added, as an afterthought.

"What? I'm not reciting an essay for shit," Obanai said, scrunching up his nose. 

"That's not what I meant. i meant, like, to 'appreciate what you have now,' as you'd put it."

"Oh, so it is about yesterday." He sighed, letting go of Sanemi's hand to fidget with the rock. "Please stop thinking about it."

"Like I could." Sanemi crossed his arms, moving to stand in front of Obanai. "You do realize I care about you way more than anyone else right now?"

"Well you shouldn't. You should care about yourself." Obanai looked up, his eyes meeting the lavender eyes of Sanemi's, those of which he'd fallen in love with over and over again. God, he would do almost anything for him. Almost anything.

"Like you could talk! You're the one ignoring your own health," Sanemi shot back. "Obanai, seriously, just... I'll stop thinking about it when you can prove to me that you'll try to get better. If not for yourself, then... for..." He hesitated, unsure if he should continue the sentence. "For someone else."

Obanai frowned. "For you?" he asked. "Just say it. It's not selfish, if that's what you're thinking."

Sanemi shook his head again, running a hand through his hair and sighing. "It's... not that."

"Then?" Obanai asked impatiently. 

"That's not what we're talking about!" Sanemi said, trying to pull him off the course of the conversation.

"Yeah, well now it is. So, tell me." He crossed his arms for emphasis, glaring up at Sanemi.

Sanemi grumbled. "If I tell you, will you try to care for your health?"

"I walked into that, didn't I," Obanai said, sighing. 

"Yes."

"Fine. I'll try. But I won't promise any success."

"Good enough," Sanemi decided. 

"So?" Obanai asked, quirking an eyebrow when he didn't continue. "Tell me!"

"It's stupid," he insisted.

"So am I, and look who you're dating! Get on with it, idiot."

Sanemi rolled his eyes. "One, you're not stupid. And... fine. Fine," he repeated, as if telling himself more than Obanai. His gaze dropped to the ground, avoiding the prying eyes of his boyfriend. "It's about Kanroji."

Obanai tensed. "What about her?"

"I don't know. Just, you're doing this all for her, right? I know what you were looking at when I found you yesterday. I know you care about her a lot." Sanemi paused. "Basically—and fuck, I sound like a selfish brat, but—I didn't know if you cared about me enough to want to stay... for me," he concluded. "Which is why... yeah."

Obanai frowned, taking in this information. "Are you jealous or insecure?"

Sanemi winced. "Don't say it like that."

"Just answer."

"Both, really," he admitted, wishing he could crawl in a hole and die.

There was a beat of silence.

And then Obanai stepped forward, tiptoeing and wrapping his arms around Sanemi's neck, hugging him tightly. He glanced around, making sure nobody was there, then undid his bandages, kissing Sanemi gently. Sanemi embraced him, leaning against the hug. 

"God, you're like a big baby," Obanai murmured, placing another kiss on Sanemi's cheek.

"Says you," Sanemi said, although he smiled at the kiss. 

"Mm, sure." 

They stayed like this for a while, completely ignoring the fact that they stood in the middle of a road in public, their attention completely on each other.

Then Sanemi back away, embarrassed and almost guilty. "Sorry for turning this about me."

"Don't worry about it, it's nice to not be the one worried about for once," Obanai said, quickly fixing his mask and taking Sanemi's hand.

Sanemi nodded. "And it's nice to be the one worried about, honestly," he said. 

"Guess you haven't experienced it much?"

"Nah." 

They continued on their walk in silence for a while, consumed in their own thoughts. Obanai spoke up, after a few minutes, glancing up at Sanemi.

"Hey, and for the record? I do care about you. Fuck, I'm sorry for seeming so laser-focused on Mitsuri lately, but... I mean, don't take this the wrong way, but she's all the reasons why I want to die. You're all the reasons I want to stay," he said, his voice gentle. 

Sanemi stared at him. 

"What?"

"N... Nothing," Sanemi mumbled, his hand tightening around Obanai's. "Thanks."

Obanai nodded, confused. He double-stepped forward to see Sanemi's face—who had turned away—and stopped. "Oh my god, are you going to cry?!" 

Sanemi shook his head, his hand reaching up to rub his eyes. "Fuck no, what the hell are you talking about?..."

Obanai sighed, letting go of his hand to wipe the tear that slipped down Sanemi's cheek. "Crying isn't bad."

"Well, good for you. Because I'm not crying!" Sanemi insisted, a whine entering his voice.

"And you said I was the baby," Obanai grumbled, rolling his eyes. But he hugged Sanemi again, holding him tightly in his arms. 

Sanemi buried his face in the mess of Obanai's hair, practically strangling him with a hug. "'m not crying," he repeated, with less insistency.

"Whatever you say."

After Sanemi got himself back together, the two walked down the road again, more awkwardly as neither knew what to say anymore. 

"Uhm... So, back to you?" Sanemi suggested.

"Fuck no."

"Fuck yes."

"You want to fuck?" Obanai asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Maybe?" Sanemi said, mimicking Obanai.

"Idiot," Obanai said, laughing.

Sanemi smiled. "You're laughing."

Obanai immediately stopped. "Okay, no, that's stupid. Don't be stupid."

Sanemi rolled his eyes. "You're stupid."

"I know."

"God."

They exchanged a smile before Obanai decidedly broke into a run, making Sanemi do a double take before chasing after him.

"What the hell?!" he shouted, catching up quickly.

Obanai grinned at him, quickening his pace. "How much strength from being do you think we have left?"

"I bet I have more than you do," Sanemi replied, running ahead of Obanai.

"Fuck you!!" Obanai whined, attempting to get back in line with Sanemi.

They laughed as they ran, and probably wouldn't have stopped if it weren't for the fact that they nearly crashed into someone. Both of them skidded to a stop, almost toppling over themselves in an attempt to not hit the other person.

"Fuck..." Sanemi groaned, helping Obanai steady himself.

"Okay, what the hell is wrong with you two?" the person asked, his voice familiar.

They looked up.

"Great," Obanai said, crossing his arms.

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?!" Tengen whined. 

"Nothing. What're you doing here?" Sanemi asked.

"Uh, walking. Why?" Tengen said, cocking an eyebrow. "And you two?"

"Same as you," Obanai said. 

"Right. You look better," Tengen noted, looking Obanai up and down.

"What do you mean?"

"Well rested." 

Sanemi nodded. "He slept a lot yesterday and the day before."

"I was tired," Obanai said defensively. "And what do you mean, 'better'?!"

"It wasn't an insult," Tengen said, laughing. "And of course you were tired."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?!" Obanai threw the pebble at Tengen who dodged it, grinning at him.

Sanemi rolled his eyes. "He means you were being insomniac and unhealthy and that you're already making improvement, dumbass."

Obanai huffed. "You too?!"

"Hey, don't blame me! You were the only one who fell into some sort of neglection of yourself after Muzan!" Sanemi pointed out.

"Anyways, I don't want to hear you two bickering, so... bye!" Tengen said, saluting them before promptly turning and practically disappearing.

Sanemi and Obanai stared after to where Tengen had run off to, watching his figure fade into the distance.

"Why is everyone concerned about my health," Obanai asked, after a minute. 

"Because you're easy to be concerned about. You look happier though," Sanemi said, turning back to Obanai. "Right now."

"That's cuz we were running and it was exhilarating. I haven't done that in a bit."

"Yeah, I know. That's why I took you out on the walk," he said, taking Obanai's hand into his own.

"Hmm, I knew you had ulterior motives," Obanai said. "'I need fresh air' my ass." 

"That wasn't a lie."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Hey, you lied about that, too!" Sanemi said, walking again.

"Fair enough."

×××

Giyuu's tactic seemed to work. It was distracting Obanai a lot more and he looked a lot lighter now, although he occasionally lapsed into fits of depressing—if you could call it that—and Sanemi was always there for him when they happened. But he was progressing and his katana ended up in the corner of the entrance hall, dust slowly collecting on the hand guard. He was doing better, and it was all Sanemi could really ask for.

×××

« Word count: 2731 »

y'all i know I ended this randomly but I was losing ideas for this and it ended up so much different than i'd intended AND HOW THE FUCK DID I GET NEARLY 3000 WORDS?! I THOUGHT IT WOULD ONLY BE 600-1000 BUT NAH...

Also i js remembered how much I love fluff 🤩

so many scenes in this oneshot i'm in love w/ how it turned out (also a bit eh but YAYY)