#telling him how much of a hassle it was to fuck up a rat to bring him back to her 😭😭😭

[dazais-guardian-angel]

This post made me realize that with the Walking Alone episode, I can recreate what Aya probably looked like during the new chapter...

...and maybe the next chapter...

But most importantly, what she'll hopefully look like many chapters down the road from now :)

[gojoluvs]

Please y/n for the love of God! Don’t give into him.

That white hair dick man isn’t worth the hassle! Leave him! Divorce his ass!

You married him for your father wish I know but I doubt he be mad at you once you tell him that Gojo was cheating on you with his ex while you were at the appointment and only to go to him for emotional support after supporting only then caught him on the act. I’m sure your dad will get best divorce lawyer that money can find and probably cancel the deal of giving your inheritance to Satoru.

As for your promise to Shoko well fuck her. Just give him a chance she says! Like hell I’m giving another chance! This marriage is a nightmare! This bipolar mess Satoru is inconsistent with his treatment and actions for y/n! One minute he act like she is super manipulate villain who stand in his way only to next act like he care about her and then fuck her only then to go back to despise her. I don’t if Jiyuu is clearly a gold digger and Satoru is blind to it or Jiyuu is the most toxic mess of person ever to exist and again Satoru is too stupid to see it. It his problem not y/n

Oh please Gojoluvs give y/n a man who is decent to her and put Satoru in his place. Any man will do. Weather it another jjk man or a different anime man heck even a Manwha man will do! Just give y/n a win for once😭

I hope y/n stop caring about this rat ( that right I’m not even calling him a man) and just act indifferent to him because that best thing to do to someone like Gojo. To have someone like y/n who try their best to get along with him and care for him only then to act indifferent to him. No more caring after him and trying to comfort him just leave him be to his own devices. Not out of hatred of course.

Because sometimes in life no matter how much you redeem yourself or try to make up with someone. Doesn’t mean they will forgive you and give you another chance because you changed yourself. Sometimes it too little too late and they want out and leave you for good and there nothing you can change about it.

Sorry for my long rant😭🙂‍↕️ this chapter got me really angry at Gojo and his hoe. I just want now Gojo to suffer as y/n has and y/n to be happy and away from this toxic mess of a relationship.

DONT APOLOGIZE!!! This was absolutely beautiful 😭😭🩷 Satoru is actually such a manipulative prick in this fanfic. Like this man is blinded by lust, the only reason why Jiyuu has him wrapped around his finger is because of their history together.

This man literally payed for Jiyuu’s apartment, like he bought the apartment and put it under her name.

The only reason why Y/N has any feelings towards that man is because she has no one in her life, Toji’s gone and no other man has the courage to talk to her. Shes really independent on her own, I know I haven’t really talked about her past that woman was her own boss. She was almost the same level as Toji in his company, its unfortunate that she has a fear of disappointing her father :(

Shes just attached to Satoru because of her vulnerability and the fear of being abandoned again. Im praying that someone comes along and treats her like how she deserves to be treated 😭🩷

[snake-and-mouse]

I posted 30,741 times in 2022

That's 1,888 more posts than 2021!

1,675 posts created (5%)

29,066 posts reblogged (95%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@the-rat-king-shriggy

@bluewaterlilly7

@softcannoli

@spicyvampire

@definitely-not-lordenglish

I tagged 8,302 of my posts in 2022

#kinnporsche - 3,492 posts

#kinnporsche the series - 2,839 posts

#not me - 2,197 posts

#not me the series - 2,196 posts

#jeff satur - 880 posts

#seanwhite - 581 posts

#danyok - 453 posts

#vegaspete - 374 posts

#kimchay - 316 posts

#barcode tinnasit - 216 posts

Longest Tag: 124 characters

#🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

There really is no vibe that can match young Hanguang-Jun meeting this mouthy little upstart from Yunmeng Jiang and almost immediately going "ah yes, there he is. The man I shall one day marry."

Except like, it's not romantic. He's so annoyed. This whole having a soulmate thing is terribly inconvenient. Xichen why is this happening to me

1,056 notes - Posted May 9, 2022

#4

Part of the vibe of Jun-ho I love so much is that not only does he get really offended and protective whenever someone talks shit about Young-woo or the idea of them dating, he also is like ???? I'm confused why wouldn’t I date her??? She's amazing??? He legit thinks she's just the coolest cutest best person and he enjoys her existence so much like a cat that's obsessed with watching a fish tank. He just doesn't get why people can't see how amazing she is and why he would want nothing more than to have as much of her attention as he can steal from lawyering and whales

1,427 notes - Posted August 14, 2022

#3

So like everyone has been everywhere already about how amazing Porsche is as a bisexual character who is manly and masculine and a very tall fit dude and yet he's allowed to be emotional and vulnerable and cute and flamboyant and sweet and in general kinnporsche never treated him like he needed to be one way or another to fit a certain mold as a man (or a man in a gay relationship that is the bottom which is also a whole can of worms)

But can I just say specifically how much I love that they made it really clear that when they have sex Porsche likes being picked up. He likes being picked up and held, he likes being in Kinn's lap, he likes Kinn actually physically lifting him up, they show this multiple times, and I don't think I've ever seen it shown you don't have to be a physically small man to enjoy having your partner do things like that. Just... god I love Porsche.

1,525 notes - Posted July 18, 2022

#2

Nothing will ever beat Lan Xichen being like either Wangji has decided to be less of a gay edgelord or Wei Wuxian has literally beaten the laws of nature and death itself. And one of those is far more likely than the other.

1,917 notes - Posted October 9, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Wei Wuxian being an idiot and not noticing he's gay but still using MXY's reputation as a cutsleeve to play gay chicken and fuck with people

VS.

Xie Lian being a fuckin weirdo and abusing his reputation as celibate because sure, telling people your dick doesn't work is totally normal Dianxia

VS.

Shen Qingqiu being constantly enraged that God (who he knows personally) made his husband's dick so big that sex is just a COMPLETE HASSLE

FIGHT

2,382 notes - Posted March 9, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[izzyspussy]

Some SpriggHands fluff? Or vanilla sex? ✨

It sucks major dong that the wall Lucius ends up in happens to be Izzy's.

The man is almost as quiet as Jim. It's a real hassle trying to figure out if he's in there or not, if Lucius can risk making his own noise sneaking out to find some food and water.

It sucks, too, that Lucius has to hear him just... being human. Washing his face. Taking off his boots. Unwrapping a sandwich. Turning a page. Pissing.

Having a nightmare.

The first time he'd been woken by the sound of Izzy's sharply cut-off yell, the bang of his hand on the wall as he throws himself bodily out of his bed, the thump and clatter of him tripping over his boots and sword belt, mostly it's only another reason for Lucius to fear for himself. He has his own nightmares, is the thing - but if he makes that kind of noise he'll be fucking caught, and he doesn't imagine his death will be left to chance twice.

So Lucius stuffs his scarf into his mouth before even considering going back to sleep. Surviving this way is exhausting, even if all he ever gets to do is sit in here and hope there aren't any rats to compete with, so it doesn't take long before his eyelids are drooping despite this fresh new discomfort.

Izzy swears to himself. Lucius can tell he's pacing because there's one plank that creaks somewhere on the other side of the room, and it groans quietly every few moments. It takes a long time for the sound to stop, for Izzy's raspy voice to go quiet again. Lucius assumes he's crawled back into bed and gone back to sleep, only to be startled back to wakefulness by the sound of Izzy singing softly.

The words are in a language Lucius doesn't recognize, but the cadence is unmistakable. A lullaby.

Gradually, the singing dies down into mumbling, into humming, into silence.

Over the course of the next several weeks, Lucius learns that Izzy has nightmares much more often than he does. He wonders how many near death experiences Izzy has had. How many of them were at the hands of another person. Whatever they're from, Izzy wakes from his nightmares the same as anyone else - scared. Sometimes he cries, trying to keep it quiet even in the privacy of his own room.

It's not long before Lucius learns the tune of Izzy's lullaby. It's not every time that Izzy sings, though. Lucius couldn't say for sure, since he can't see him and he can't read his mind, but sometimes when he wakes Izzy almost seems angry with himself. Those times he won't sing. He'll lie in the bed all night, dozing and then gasping awake every few minutes, refusing to give himself enough comfort to drop off fully.

Lucius can't fucking stand it.

He's going crazy, must be, cooped up in here and near-constantly fearing for his life. But it's Izzy that lulls Lucius back to sleep after one of his own nightmares, even if he doesn't know it. So it's Izzy that provides Lucius's only comfort. It's Izzy who is Lucius's only company, one-sided as it is. And listening to his torment breaks Lucius's fucking heart.

So one night, desperately tired and with his misplaced emotions gutted after Izzy has deprived himself of the song for hours on end, Lucius sings it for him.

Terror strikes nearly as soon as he starts, but it's too late to take it back now. Lucius can only hope that Izzy is in one of his dozes and not fully aware that the noise is coming from outside himself. Lucius makes noises in the vague shape of the song, wordless but aloud.

After a few moments, Izzy starts to sing along with him. Lucius trails off gradually, hopefully subtly, until Izzy is singing by himself - and with any luck will remember it being that way all along come morning. There's a long enough pause after the song is over that Lucius assumes Izzy is asleep.

Then Izzy says, clear enough that he can't be talking to himself, "Fucking stupid thing to do."

And then, quieter, "Thanks."

There's silence after that, and Lucius figures Izzy must really have gone back to sleep now. He doesn't sleep himself. Instead, he crawls his way out of the compartment and posts up at the nearest porthole. If this is to be the morning of his last day, he at least wants to see the sun rise.

But no one comes for him. He stays generally out of sight, but he doesn't make such a point of avoiding being seen now that he's sure he's already been discovered anyway. Once, Lucius is absolutely certain Ivan has caught sight of him out of the corner of his eye, but he doesn't turn to look. There is a wrapped sandwich seemingly waiting for him on top of the orange barrel.

That evening Izzy eats his own sandwich in his room. He writes for a bit. He takes a piss. He washes his face. He undresses, and gets into bed.

He says, "G'night, boy."

"Don't let the Kraken bite?" Lucius ventures shakily. Izzy snorts and knocks gently on the wall between them.

Lucius leaves his scarf around his neck, and sleeps peacefully.

[m-jeevas]

Pairing: SasorixDeidara

Word Count: 1322

Rating: NSFW (language/mentions of violence)

I’ve been itching to do some canon SasoDei content so here’s a quick peek of something I’m working on for SasoDei week! 

Full under the cut

-

Sasori has a distinctive face when he’s stopped paying attention. A neutral face with wide doe eyes and pretty lashes, with smooth, full lips carved to a perpetual pout. The swell of his lower lip always juts out just a little bit more and he always looks…aloof, almost. That’s how Deidara can tell he’s finished listening to his stories. Goes into his shell, as he often calls it. He thinks it’s funnier when he’s in Hiruko, but the puppet is too bulky to make its way across the forest floor without issue.

There are breaks in the foliage, but nothing near enough to make it worth the hassle of sealing him and unsealing him how many dozens of times until they make it back to base. Their way towards the Land of Waves? They’d been able to hit the skies easy. Not so much on their trek back.

Deidara doesn’t mind a pretty face to stare at, paying attention or not. He uses chakra strings brush and twigs out of the way, while his partner chooses to just walk through it. He gets scrapes up his arms and leaves in his hair but he doesn’t mind. Growing up in Iwagakure taught him to savor the outdoors.

Under his cloak, Sasori wears a turtleneck and wrapped limbs. Without Hiruko around, he likes to conceal his ultimate weapon. Especially around here, where civilians are more plentiful than enemy nin. Deidara, absolutely smitten, has a hard time keeping his peeks subtle. He trails just beside his partner to steal wanton glances. Half his time he spends keeping an ear out, the other half he spends stealing glances of his love whilst he has the chance.

What he believes in is a haphazard life full of explosive little moments. And who knows, if he’s lucky? One of those explosions will land him and Sasori in the right place at the right time.

“Which border are we by, hn?” he has to ask, both in favor of striking up conversation and keeping him from having to dig for their map. And hey, maybe Sasori’s just not that type of guy?

Either way, Deidara’s fine sticking around to see what happens. The summer air is thick with a humidity that frizzes his blond hair and clings sweat to his hairline. Summer storms are better off seen than experienced. “The Land of Fire. You haven’t been following the map?” Sasori clicks in distaste.

His partner does have eyes for some things. His favorite, always, the Third Kazekage. Talks to it more often than he talks to his partner. Deidara hates its yellowed eyes, always seeming to follow him when it’s out. The dusty old son of a bitch couldn’t have been anything special if he got himself killed, but Sasori seems to adore him.

He clicks his tongue. “My man, fuck the map, hn. I didn’t join the Akatsuki to go to some dinky old—oh shit, did you hear that?” he drops his voice to a whisper, and Sasori’s already going for the Third’s summoning scroll. “We’re in Anbu territory, then, hn?”

“And probably bounty hunters,” Sasori adds. He’s been irritated the storm clouds have come rolling in. The Third comes clicking out of its summoning smoke and he’s ready to kill a fly with a sledgehammer. “Where’re the rats?” he drawls.

Fuck, it really looks like rain. His clay will be useless if there’s a downpour, and Sasori’s not going to have too easy a time, either. They need to work quick.

—

“This is insulting,” Sasori seethes. “Six Anbu and they haven’t sent me even the slightest thing to work with? These are supposed to be specialized shinobi. Hand picked and there’s nothing salvageable,” he’s repeating in disbelief.

Poor sons of bitches didn’t stand a chance. Once they caught wind of them they were easy enough to bomb out and subsequently gas. Deidara will pick any fight that allows them to get a better look at his art. “People have been poisoning each other since the dawn of time and these dipshits still got jammed up? You’re right, this is a disgrace, hn,” he agrees.

Even in death, a disgrace—eyes stained yellow from poison and their skin tainted a mottled, purpled blue. Deidara kicks at a young woman’s head and it lolls lifelessly to the side. She could have been pretty.

Rigor mortis will set in soon. It’s only been a few minutes but already the smell of death clings to them. Deidara will have to wash his clothes once they get back to their safehouse. After working with each other for the better part of a year, they have their routine down to a science. No need to scrounge around on the minimalist budget Kakuzu’s given them. They’re two criminals--they make it work. They strip the bodies down to nothing. Deidara goes for cash and military pills while Sasori or clothing and weaponry.

Hey, he’s got to keep up with Sasori’s sleepless schedule somehow. And besides, does a true artist ever slumber? Deidara thinks not.

One more pit stop and they can check in at home base. Still a few days on foot to trek themselves back. They have points set up along the way they can stop and if they’re not in the mood? Deidara has no problem spending a night or two in the woods. With Sasori’s lack of human limitations, they always have someone to keep watch.

Storm clouds rolling in makes it too risky to fly. They’re half a day out and Deidara can tell he’s still brooding. “You’re still stewing over your trash, hn?” he taunts.

“You’ve been stewing over Itachi kicking your ass for years.”

“That’s—” he’s about to shout, then coughs into his fist. He’s been trying to keep his cool around Sasori lately. “That’s different, hn.” He gets eyes rolled at him, but he doesn’t relent. “What, you want to turn around?”

Sasori’s eyes widen and the way his eyes glisten amber, honeyed brown is nothing short of ethereal. His almost flesh like lips purse to a thin line. Glancing down, he watches Deidara’s hand mouth nibble at the hem of his sleeve. Damp, drooly fabric is left behind. “I do.”

“Does this mean I get to play a little, hn?”

“Yeah,” Sasori sighs. “If you have to.” He then swallows. “After I finish. You get clean up.”

“I got to take the reins last time, didn’t I, hn?” Deidara hums. Fine by him, so long as he gets to show off at least a little of his work. And he’s a little low on chakra, anyway. “Fine, I’ll take the scraps.”

And so, after a day, they’re right back where they started from. He can’t handle slights like this and when he gets into moods like this his patience is even less so. Times like these Deidara hardly wants his partner’s full attention on him. Death threats become not more frequent but more serious, with poison dipped weapons dangerously close to clipping his flesh.

Sasori likes to remind him he can put him in a grave in seconds.

Deidara needs to show off that same flair every once in a while. These are always the opportunities. After a lifetime of being told to tone it down, he follows doggedly behind Sasori who so freely embraces his inner demon. He’s not afraid to slaughter, harm, kill. They prefer long distance but on the rare days where bloodlust crackles between them like summer cicadas, Deidara expects him to go close combat.

Destruction is second nature to them. Is what it means to be born and raised as a shinobi. Sunagakure has brutal teachings and Iwagakure wild ones, breeding two monsters trained disastrously past control. Sasori’s amber, glassy eyes catch the sunlight. Deidara admires them with bated breath and a live wire.

They’re gods of destruction, the two of them.

For the Anbu’s sins, they punish their villages. On their heels, they head back through the Land of Waves.

[fulltimemoaner]

Just something cute like Childe and Zhongli are crushing on each other but they think the other doesn't share their feelings so both of them are being dumd and trying very hard to hide their feelings. Meanwhile, everyone knows they're in love with each other.

Zhongli knows he is being irrational, there is nothing in the world that could possibly bind an adeptus and a human together, nothing short of disaster and broken hearts, anyways. Of course, there are adepti that could argue with his stance, such as the law consultant Yanfei, who is the very product of such a connection. However, the vast difference between a mere law consultant an ex archon is omnipresent in his mind, and so is the fact that he is more than five thousand years older than a certain troublemaker. When he sips his painstakingly prepared tea, his face sours, the leaves leaving a bitter tinge on his tongue, over-boiled and somewhat stale. There went six hours of wasted kitchen labour, all due to his own knack for overthinking and contemplating. He had all the time in the world, after all, to drown in his own musings, even if Hu Tao was still yelling at him to do his duties and other earthly errands. No, Zhongli didn’t look down on those, quite the opposite. He had taken to loving the simple life of the human Zhongli, without the hassles of being Morax. Humanity, however, came with its cons, such as attraction and irrationality. Again, it wasn’t like he hadn’t loved as an Adeptus, madly so, perhaps, but this wasn’t the time for him to be arguing with himself. He simply had to put his desires on a leash. He took another sip of bitter tea.

There was no way Ajax liked him back, after all. He was young, a few millennia so, (yes, he isn’t about to stop repeating that to himself) and strong, quick witted, humorous, loud, adventurous- Everything that Zhongli had lost in the past thousand years of being Morax. A heavy sigh leaves his lips and he leans his chin into the inside of his palm. In times like these, it’s hard not to miss Jueyun Karst and the company of his kind, it’s in times like these when he is filled with confusion and lack of understanding involving the humans he so greatly adores. He wonders if the loss of his Gnosis led to the loss of some of the divine, whether it brought him closer to the earthly beings, which was why he found his heart squeezing so hard at the thought of ginger hair and aquamarine eyes.

A loud thud shakes Zhongli out of his reverie, the sliding door of the Wangsheng Funeral parlour slamming open to reveal Hu Tao’s gleaming eyes, as well as a very handsome yet petrified Snezhnayan. “Zhongli!” The woman coos, her hand holding an iron grip on the Harbinger’s wrist. “Someone needs your assistance.”

“Tartaglia.” Zhongli clears his throat, easing into his front of apathy despite his hammering heartbeat.

“Ah, Mr. Zhongli.” Childe laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head in that telltale way that radiated tides of awkwardness that would put his elemental abilities to shame. “There is a death within the Fatui,” He’s lying. No one has died under his watch. “And we need to bury him, it’s too hot to transport him back to Snezhnaya as it is.” His stuttering voice is probably giving him out, but Hu Tao elbows his ribs so hard he almost gasps.

“Ah, what a tragedy!” The parlour owner throws a hand over her eyes. “Such honoured guests suffering a loss like that! Zhongli, this calls for your assistance. I am so busy and I’m afraid my knowledge in Snezhnayan burial customs is vastly limited, so feel free to take this on!” She gives Zhongli the most suspicious thumbs up known to mankind and sticks her tongue out, and just like she always comes and goes, she practically evaporates out of the room.

Childe is sweating. He is staring at Zhongli with wide eyes and a suspicious tingle in his stomach, a playback of Scaramouche’s words rolling in his brain like a jammed tape.

“Go short your stupid crush out. Don’t show your face in the Northern Bank until you are ready to act normal, fucking idiot. You’re slowing us down, and by the Tsaritsa, I’m not above ratting you out and having you demoted to an errand boy.”

Childe almost cringes at the memory of the aggression in the Sixth Harbinger’s voice. He is going to kill him. Childe Tartaglia Ajax is a massive coward, and he is about to be murdered by his superior because he has a crush on a six thousand year old adeptus that is too good for him and wouldn’t bat-

“How did they die?”

Childe’s brain is like a train about to derail. Zhongli is up now, boiling some tea that smells suspiciously much like Jasmine, just like Ajax prefers it. If he tries to do as much as think of a single thing, all he can do is visualise Zhongli’s golden eyes gleaming underneath the lanterns of that odd Liyuan festival that Childe did not exactly comprehend, be it for his lack of interest at the time, or his complete concentration on that rich voice that kept whispering tales to him about the lanterns and the dead and the local myths.

“There is no one dead.” Childe blurts out, now or never. To be frank, he is absolutely shitting it. This is harder than fighting in the Abyss, worse than getting his ass kicked repeatedly by Traveller and that flying chicken that followed him around all the time-

“I seem to have misunderstood.” Zhongli watches him confusedly, teapot hanging forgotten on one hand. Childe can almost visualise him making that very same tea in his home in Snezhnaya, with the raging blizzards going strong outside, his soothing voice telling tales of dragons and giant monsters to his baby siblings to entertain them for a lack of anything better to do in the catastrophic winter. “You do not need my assistance?”

“No. I mean, yes, but not in that way.” Childe grunts, rubbing his eyes with both hands, stood ten feet away from Zhongli because he simply can’t stand the way his body burns when their shoulders brush together. The ex archon continues to look completely lost, his lips slightly open and his brows furrowed in his weak attempt to grasp the situation. Childe is stubborn, ridiculously brave at most instances, but above all, he is an idiot. And like an idiot, he says: “Have you ever kissed a Snezhnayan?”

Zhongli stills, blinking stupidly, unable to tell whether this was another one of the Harbinger’s jokes that their generational and cultural gap didn’t allow him to understand. He places the teapot down. “Excuse me?”

Childe wants to smack himself across the face. He forces out a loud laugh. “No, that was a joke!” He can feel the hairs on the side of his head sticking to his face. If the Abyss could swallow him again, now was the time. “What I mean is…” Childe takes in a deep breath. “Will you go out on a date with me?”

Zhongli stares at the wall across him, way past Ajax, into the eyes of some unseen divine force that is absolutely messing with him right then. “Did Hu Tao put you up to this?” After all, she always told him he needed to get laid, but he never understood where exactly he was supposed to be reclining. Mortal language had taken to weird expressions over the centuries.

“No, God, no,” Childe shakes his hands defensively. “Alright, mr. Zhongli, I’m so into you I can’t sleep at night, and I have been like that since I first saw you walking by Wanmin Restaurant, when you were trying some local delicacy and doing your ridiculous, bourgeoise critique on the authenticity of the flavours-” Childe goes quiet, his rant dying amidst its blooming as he watched Zhongli’s eyes soften and his brows tense, an unmistakable redness spreading over the adeptus’ face. “Mr. Zhongli?”

“Ajax, stop.” Zhongli hasn’t felt this flustered in thousands of years. He isn’t sure what it is about this human that is so awfully endearing, but it’s making him sear and liquify from the inside. “I’ll go out with you. We need to discuss the place and time, as well as the attire and the mood of the overall meeting, since leaving things unclear leads to misunderstandings that can not be resolved without-”

Ajax’s smile is stretching so wide across his face that he fears it’s going to split, a sudden ego boost booming so hard into his chest that he feels like he could fight the entire Fatui army and win. He takes a few steps forward and puts his hands on the table in front of the ex archon, hovering slightly above him. “Leave it to me.” He leans in closer and Zhongli can smell the exotic perfume on his skin. “There’s only one question left.”

“What?” Zhongli treads carefully, his jaw setting when a gloved hand finds his chin and tips his head back, fixing their gazes together.

“Have you ever kissed a Snezhnayan?”

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Doesn’t Voldemort give the instruction to “kill the spare” during the resurrection? How does that jive with him generally not wanting to kill people, and them leaving evidence of the resurrection? As you’d mentioned in a previous post, because it was through the TWT, Barty ended up leaving evidence behind Voldemort had returned. Why didn’t they just memory wipe him or something?

The post anon is referencing and a very relevant post.

So there's a few things going on here I think.

The Trouble With Being Voldemort

Tom Riddle has the world's most ridiculous show to put on. Voldemort is a persona, one that Tom Riddle painstakingly maintains, and there are certain actions that don't jive with him.

Voldemort would never preserve life. He is cruelty and mercilessness incarnate. More, he has now risen from the dead and has to put the fear of God into every one of his followers and remind them just who they're working for,

Sparing Cedric would look weak, would make these people question whether Voldemort has it in him to kill their own children, to kill them should they try to run.

For those who are still devoted, it'd make them wonder if Voldemort came back wrong, if this man was worth sacrificing everything for if he can't kill this one boy.

It would make people question who Voldemort even is. Having just resurrected, Tom can't afford that.

The Trouble With Witnesses

Say that Tom says, "GODDAMMIT BARTY!" and "FUCK EVERYTHING" and hands out mind wipes like free candy. Well, first, he has to mind wipe Cedric Diggory and knock him out. That's a given.

He'll also now need an explanation of where Cedric went, what happened to him, etc. In canon, Harry easily provides that explanation, and the ministry desperately doesn't want to hear it and so doesn't go looking for any other answer.

Here, Cedric would simply... not remember what happened to him. It's clear there's a cover up involved, people might start poking in his head, they'd find doctored memories...

Voldemort suddenly gave people in the ministry good cause to be worried that is not Harry Potter shouting from the rooftops that Voldemort has returned.

Then he has to mind wipe Pettigrew. Peter's a rat and has no convictions, but this would be information he could use to blackmail Tom. This is less of an issue given that no one's going to go digging around in Peter's head for fake memories, but it's still a hassle.

A bigger problem is what to do with Cedric. Tom has to dispose of Harry Potter, ideally in front of his followers for maximum showmanship, what is he supposed to do with this kid in the meantime? He could disillusion him, but then Harry Potter opens his big fat mouth and tells everyone. He could wipe Harry's memories too, but Tom's wasting precious time as Dumbledore will undoubtedly be coming for Little Hangleton any second now.

And ultimately, Tom's not a nice guy.

I don't think he wanted to kill Cedric, certainly wasn't on his plan for the day, but it's also easier for him to just kill Cedric than desperately attempt to spare him. It's unfortunate, (and what the fuck, Barty, weren't you supposed to be avoiding this sort of thing), but there's not much to be done.

The Evidence of Voldemort's Return

And, sadly, I think for the ministry Cedric's doctored memories would be more evidence than Cedric's disappearance and Harry as an eye witness.

Harry is generally thought of as unreliable, has a very bad school record, and was in a high stakes competition with Cedric only moments before where another contestant had grievously injured the fourth with an unforgiveable.

That Harry spins out this very dramatic turn about Voldemort's resurrection only makes things worse. It makes him look very guilty.

Compared to a Cedric Diggory who has no idea what happened in the last half hour (and Harry Potter who insists Voldemort rose from the dead) and something looks very weird and like someone didn't want information leaking out.

[chaos-burst]

Hey! :) I’ve wanted to play d&d for a while now, and after getting into critical role i finally decided to convince my friends to play with me. None of us have played before, so im both exited and a bit nervous since i’ll be the dm. We don’t know anyone who plays, and i’m not very comfortable with palying with strangers, so we’ll be diving right in together! Do you or your followers have any tips or good resources to recommend for new players and/or dms? Any tips would be greatly appreciated! :D

Hey there!

I’m very flattered that you would ask me for DMing tips, but I just have to preface this saying that I am a first time DM myself and I am currently on session 13 of my campaign. But I can see if I can list some things that I found useful building my first campaign :) And I totally feel you not being comfortable with strangers, I play with a group of friends and we were all first time players when we started!

Let’s start with resources! (I will put the links in a reblog bc tumblr is a dick about posts with external links in them. Sry for the hassle!)

Probably a bit redundant, but nevertheless very helpful: The core rulebooks for D&D. Which is to say The Dungeon Master Guide, The Monster Manual and The Players Handbook. Bc those are expensive as fuck, check out this lovely thing (1).

Then, depending on whether you play online or live: Roll20.net (2) You can invite your players to your campaign and make maps for encounters with minis on them, you can insert music that plays in the background and it also rolls dice for you if you have to roll a big amount of dice and don’t want to do math ;)

There is an encounter builder on kobold-fightclub (3) that can help you balance encounters according to your party’s level! I have found it quite helpful and it’s also an easy way to filter monsters for a specific terrain when you know that you’ll be running through a swamp/desert/cave etc.!

I also found this this cheat sheet very helpful, esp regarding the different conditions that I can never seem to remember.

Then, ofc, one of CR’s sponsors: dndbeyond (4). Me and my friends bought a subscription bc damn is it useful to be able to click on anything on your character sheet and see what the hell it means. It also helps you track your spellslots/HP etc. during combat. 

Something I also did was watch Matt’s videos (5) on how he DMs. Altho it bears to say: Don’t compare yourself to Matt Mercer. It will only stress you out. 

You like maps? So do I! Check these out (6/7). 

You want to keep track of your npcs and important lore and places and everything? You could try worldanvil (8)! It’s like building a wiki for your own world!

And then about tips. It is probably easier to give tips when you have specific questions than it is to give general tips, but I’ll do my best! I’m sure many experienced DMs want to chime in and add to it :)

Communication is (as with most things in life) key to everything. Get together with your players for a Session 0 and just talk about what kind of game you want to run and what kind of game they want to play. There are people who like combat more than roleplay or vice versa. There are people who want to play an evil campaign or they want a lot of political intrigue or they are soft marshmallows like I am and don’t want permanent character deaths and so on and so on. Just get together and talk about what you guys want to create. Also talk about the characters with each individual player.Ask them about triggers they have, so you can avoid topics. Ask them how they feel about an NPC flirting with their character. It goes the other way around as well! Tell them about your boundaries and your expectations. One of my friends wanted to make a character with a neutral evil alignment. I told that it’s fine, as long as there’s the prospect for the character to evolve towards a neutral or good alignment, bc I have no interest in dm-ing an “evil” campaign. 

Something that might make running a campaign easier for you is if your players’ characters already know each other before the game starts. If you’re like me you will sweat bullets thinking about how to get them to work towards a common goal. If they’re already friends/rivals/lovers/colleagues/members of the same adventuring guild you will not have that problem. And they can give you some notes on how they envision the relationships to be/how they met.

You can start your adventure with one of the official adventures that are out there if you want to! You don’t have to do a whole ton of worldbuilding like I did bc I’m a crazy person and have my whole setting homebrewed. If not, you can always make life as easy as possible for yourself and start small! Build a small town with a few key NPCs, put a small assortment of possible quests there and then only roughly sketch out what you want the “outside world” to look like. I as a player love some context when I build characters, so if you want to give your players a small introduction into the campaign setting, I think that would be helpful and also helps creating characters who fit into your setting! If you want to run a campaign that has tons of dragons and poisoned oceans that cannot be crossed by mortals it would be sad if a player came to you and gave you the character sheet for a sailor.

If you do a whole campaign, I found it helpful to have a rough idea about different factions and two or three major events that shape your world. Ideas for later quests will eventually tie into big world events when the players get higher level!

Draw yourself a map. It doesn’t have to be elaborate or anything, but at some point there will be a question about “where is the next big city, we need to buy healing potions” and you will feel much safer if you just have a piece of paper (analogue or virtual) with like... a rough outline, some landmarks and some cities on it. At least that’s how it was for me!

You don’t have to reinvent the wheel. Don’t beat yourself up if your first quests are “standard” stuff like “Take care of this giant rat infestation in the cellar of the tavern.” or “My purple dragoncat has been abducted, please get him back for me.”. I started my campaign with small quests before getting to a small arc and then I want to work towards bigger arcs eventually. But for new players and a new DM I found it very helpful to keep things low stakes to not stress anyone out too much. If you fuck up the giant rat infestation, the world will not end, you know? That is nice. Also works well as a tutorial for everyone! Combat is intimidating! So many rules! Take your time to figure out how stuff works with some nice, small quests and some not-too-complex-combat encounters!

You don’t have to follow every rule. There are so many rules for everything and that can be helpful but it can also be stressful. You don’t have to do everything by the book and if you notice that some rules annoy you and your players, you can always change them as you go along! (Cats have nightvision. Sometimes the rulebooks are dumb.)

Don’t get hung up on too many details. I love worldbuilding, but I get obsessive easily. Sometimes I think my world isn’t ready enough bc I tend to think like a writer who has to have everything figured out. That is not the case with d&d! Sure, It’s good if you know stuff. But d&d is not only about planning, it’s also about improvising. And the world will grow while you play in it! Before you know it you’ll go like “I want to have an encounter with this cool ice monster. I need an icy landscape.” and then you will make one. And maybe it wasn’t there before, but who cares. Your players will be excited and you can make up the lore as you move along! 

Did I mention communication? 

If you have specific questions about certain aspects of DMing or how to start, feel free to message me anytime :) I hope this helps a little bit! I’ll reblog in a second with the links!

[peachiikawa]

Fly | Route Selected: O. Tooru

genre: mafia au, choose your own adventure

warnings: honestly nothing too bad in this route

word count: 3.1k

Fly Masterlist

“I choose--”

But before you could even finish your sentence, the front door opened and an arm draped around your shoulders

“They’ll be with me”

You looked to see who had just walked in and were stunned to see such a beautiful man

“Very funny oikawa, now let them go. This is a personal matter”

Daichi took a step forward and you could feel the tension in the air

But the silence was broken with a chuckle from oikawa

“Dont worry so much daichi. They arent just a threat to you theyre a threat to the entire community so to make your burden easier ill gladly take them in. you have better things to worry about anyways”

The smile on his face was far from a friendly one

Even you could tell it was a bit condescending and it made you a bit scared

He led you out the door but not before turning his head one last time

“Tell your old man seijou gives their regards”

With that he led you to his car and got you buckled in

“Now where do you live..?”

“My name is y/n and i live down the street and around the block”

He drove you home and made sure you got into your apartment

“Come in tomorrow whenever youd like, preferable before noon though. Heres my card if you have any questions. Goodnight y/n!”

He kept the conversation brief and didnt look back as he left

As soon as you closed the door you leaned against it and slid down onto the ground

Just what had you gotten yourself into?

You couldnt really sleep that night knowing that in the morning you were going to be working with the mafia

So you took an early shower and got to the address on the card oikawa gave you the night before around eight o’clock

You took a nervous breath before walking into the gigantic corporate building

‘Seijoh Industries’

The company had a long reputation of being in the modeling and fashion industry

It scared you to think that so many big companies were involved in who knows what else

You pushed the glass doors open and immediately got lost

Like how do you even navigate the inside of this building???

It wasnt long before you got stopped

...by some guy with blonde hair with lines in them

Was he trying to look like a tennis ball??

As he steps toward you you take one back until youre against a wall

“What the fuck are you doing here? Youd better leave. Now”

You feel like your stomach is about to drop before you hear that all too familiar voice

“Maddog what are you doing to y/n! Its their first day you shouldnt be so mean”

Oikawa grabbed your hand and led you down the hall to a pristine office

He sat down behind his desk and organized a few papers for you

“Youre here bright and early. I was half expecting you to just not show up”

His eyes glanced up from the papers in his hands for a brief moment

“But im glad you did it would have been a..hassle to find you”

The way that sentence came out of his mouth with that smile on his face sent a shiver down your back

He handed you a few papers and a list of tasks to do

Most of which consisted of you running errands and organizing some cabinets around the building

“Finish those and if you get done with that before the end of the day you can do whatever. Just dont poke your nose where it doesnt belong”

The smile on his face never left once your entire conversation and it left you with a weird feeling in your gut

As you turned to leave you just couldnt shake the weird feeling you got every time you saw it

But you went on your way, trying not to think about it too hard

You did each task with ease and you really thought that some of them were a bit unnecessary since most of the things on the list were already done

It was almost therapeutic doing normal things, it at least made you feel less nervous

It didnt take you long before you finished your tasks

“Hey you”

You jumped at the sound of someone’s voice and slowly turned towards a man with short and spiky brown hair

He held out a couple of papers to you

“I need you to make a few copies of these and then bring them to trashykawa”

Your eyebrows furrowed and he noticed your confusion

“I mean Oikawa. Sorry, force of habit. Im Iwaizumi by the way. I work over in communications''

You fumbled with the papers in your hands, trying to get a grip before he noticed how nervous you were

His sharp eyes were fixed on you which made you even more self-conscious 

You let out a shaky breath before introducing yourself

“Im y/n. Its my first day working here”

He nodded his head

“Yeah well just lay low if you want to survive this mess. Ill see you later y/n.”

A few weeks go by and it seems to be the same thing filling your days

This place wasnt as scary as you first thought and everyone seemed nice enough

The beeping from the copy machine brought you back to reality from your daydream and headed back to oikawas office

Though you had been here for almost a month now, it never got easier to be around him

Something was just too off putting about him

You took a deep breathe before knocking on the door to which you got a muffled “come in”

He didnt look up as you set the papers on his desk and only looked back up at you when he didnt hear your leave

He took off the glasses he was wearing and set them down in front of him

“Can i help you with something?”

Again, that smile on his face just...didnt feel right

“I was done with my work, is there anything else I can do for you?”

He just shook his head

“That should be it for me! Why dont you go see if iwa needs anything?”

You could tell that he wanted nothing more than to have just a moment to himself

And the constant flow of people probably didnt help

“This might be bold of me to say but that smile you wear around people...you dont need to put up any false pretenses around me. I know my situation and I know it isnt all sunshine and rainbows so feel free to be yourself around me. So one last time, before I go, do you need anything?”

His eyes were wide at what you just said

You had only been here for what? A few weeks? With minimal contact as well

So how did you notice?

The only other person whos ever called him out on it was iwaizumi

And he hated being read like this but he kept that smile up

“Nope im fine”

You nodded and left, closing the door behind you

And as soon as you did he threw his pen down on his desk and held his head in his hands

How...how did you see through him

He had carefully made this mask of his so that no one would be able to see how he was feeling

Emotions were a weakness

He didnt need them

And he sure as hell didnt need you

The next week he made it his mission to completely ice you out

No contact at all

And it made you kind of frustrated

The man steals you away from the other mafia you almost became affiliated with and just throws you to the side?

So you went to him after him doing whatever he could to make sure he avoided you

The man literally had tennis-head outside of his office to scare you away

“What are you doing”

The sudden voice behind you almost made you scream

“Oh iwaizumi! Dont scare me like that!”

You smacked his shoulder as you two hid around the corner from oikawas office

“If you must know im trying to get into oikawas office. I'm sick of his avoiding me like im the plague”

Iwaizumi let out a deep sigh

He knew why oikawa was avoiding you

And he also thought it was a little much

Wasnt it about time he stopped being scared?

“Tell you what y/n, ill distract kenta and while i do you can sneak into oikawas office”

Your eyes sparkled and he almost wanted to laugh

“Really?!” 

He nodded and patted your head

“Get that idiot out of his funk”

He then walked up to kenta and walked off with him, giving you a thumbs up behind his back

And when they were out of sight you knocked on oikawas door and didnt wait for him to respond before barging in

To say he was shocked was an understatement

“What are you-”

“Stop. Before you go on about how youre busy just please listen to me. I dont know what i did to deserve this amount of avoidance but if its about what i said that day, i dont regret what i said. And i wish you would stop avoiding your problems and just confront them”

Confront his problems?

What the hell do you know about his problems

“So you came in here to tell me that? What the fuck do you know about me? Youre just some street rat that poked their nose where it didnt belong. You dont know me so stop trying to tell me what to fucking do! Emotions make you weak and i dont need that”

At this point he had you backed against a wall

And when he realized what just happened he pushed himself away from you

God what the hell was he even doing

Hes spent years perfecting his facade

And then you come barging in and it just breaks?

You slowly approached him and put a hand on his shoulder

“See? Was that so bad? Honestly, seeing you like that was refreshing. Feel free to keep the mindset that emotions make you weak, i wont try to convince you otherwise. Thats a realization you need to make on your own but for now please dont hold back around me”

For the first time in a while oikawas heart stood still, almost as if he could feel himself again

“Whatever. I still have paperwork to do so leave or make yourself useful”

He shrugged your hand off of him and went back to his desk

You just smiled and nodded your head

“Ill be back with a coffee for you!”

And when you exited you bumped into the back of kentarou

“Ah sorry! Ill be back!”

As you ran off kenta took a step toward you

“What the hell..get back here!”

But before he could take another oikawa cleared his throat

“You can leave your post mad-dog. Youre no longer needed here”

Kenta nodded his head but was too shocked to move for a moment, caught off guard by the small smile that lingered on his boss’ face

The couple weeks after that you were allowed back in his office and he even started to request your presence at times for no other reason than he just wanted you to sit in the room with him

And that smile he used to give you was now replaced by a soft, genuine smile that made your heart flutter

Little things started to become more noticeable to you

Like how cute it was when he pouted his lips when he was really focused

And honestly he was too

Your smile was maddening

And your laugh made him feel like he was being swallowed whole, unable to breath

It scared him

Nothing good has ever happened when he became emotionally attached to someone

“Oikawa, are you okay?”

You put your hand up to his forehead and checked for a fever

He could feel his cheeks heating up and gently swatted your hand away

“No im fine. Dont worry about me”

He watched your face fill with concern and his heart lurched forward

This feeling...it scared him. But for now, if its you, hes willing to see where this goes

“Good morning oikawa!”

You walked into his office with his morning coffee which he gladly took from your hands

“Good morning y/n”

He had a job later and needed all the energy he could get

But not before having his morning conversation with you

“I'm leaving around noon with maki and mattsun. Iwa’s in charge till i get back so if you need anything ask him”

You could tell by the way he was talking that it was something serious and therefore probably something to do with the mafia

Sure you had done a few things for Seijoh like fax some papers and have oikawa sign a few things but nothing to where oikawa needed to leave has ever come up

He could see anxiety cloud over your face

“Hey”

He grabbed your hand and gave it a small squeeze

“I’ll be fine. You have nothing to worry about, okay?”

You nodded your head

“Please be safe”

Worry reflected in your eyes and it made him almost go weak

All he could do was nod and give a half smile

The entire time he was away you sat at his desk anxiously waiting for his return

...

“Cough up the money oikawa. We had a deal”

Oikawa looked at the man in front of him with his trademark empty smile

“That wasnt our deal. Now give us what you owe”

The room was tense but nothing that oikawa hasnt dealed with before

But his world soon turned upside down with what was thrown on the table that stood between them next

The color drained from his face as he looked at pictures taken of you without anyone knowing

“Where the hell did you get these”

The man in front of him just laughed

“Now thats an interesting expression oikawa. Never thought id see the day where that smile of yours wasnt on your face”

His knuckles were turning white from how hard he was clenching his fists

“You know, it would almost be a shame if something were to happen to them”

Oikawas eyes widened in fear

It felt as if time around him had stopped for this one moment

And it made him want to puke

“Dont you dare lay a hand on them”

His jaw was so tense that he thought he was about to pop a blood vessel

“Then give us the money”

He wasnt left with much of a choice

So he did what he was told

“See? Was that so hard?”

“Are we done here?”

He was itching to get back as soon as possible

To make sure you were okay

He couldnt rest until he knew you were fine

“Yes now leave”

The car ride seemed to last forever, maki and mattsun had never seen their boss like this and exchanged subtle glances the entire ride

As soon as the car stopped he ran into the building and to your desk

And when he saw you werent there his heart dropped

‘Where are you, y/n?!’

The only other place you could be was his office

He slammed his door open only to see you jump up from his desk, the sleep in your eyes still evident

He let out the breath he didnt even know he was holding as soon as his eyes landed on you

He went straight over to you and pulled you into his arms

The tightness of the hold around you was comforting yet alarming

You brought your arms up to wrap around him and you swear you could feel him slightly shaking

“Oikawa?”

You voice was soft and made him feel weak in the knees

“Just…let me stay like this for a moment”

After that day you were moved into his home and he never left your side

He never fully explained what happened that day

But you knew it had shaken him

Especially since you havent seen his smile since then

You were escorted everywhere

And when you asked why you were only given the short answer of “i said i’d guard you so i'm doing that”

You didnt mind being with him, really

If anything you liked being able to be with him all the time

You just hoped you werent being a hindrance

So one night as you laid in bed while oikawa sat on the ground next to you leaning against the bed frame, you turned towards him

He had been doing this lately to “guard” you and you knew he wasnt sleeping much

“Oikawa”

His eyes immediately met yours

“Am i being a burden on you?”

Though it was dark, he could hear the sadness in your voice

“I just feel like ive been holding you back lately and thats the last thing i want to do”

He cupped your face with his hand and gently stroked your cheek

“Not to mention that you havent smiled once since coming back that day and it just all feels very distant and lonesome. I hope you know that you can talk to me, i’ll never judge you for anything”

And in those few simple words the gate that had been holding back all of his emotions back suddenly broke

“y/n im scared”

His head hung low as his lips trembled

“Im scared to lose you and im scared that ive become weak since being with you but i just cant let you go. Losing you makes me feel more terrified than anything else”

The thought of losing you made it feel as if he was drowning and the water was filling his lungs with a burning sensation

You sat up in your bed and took his hand in yours

“Then why dont you turn that fear into strength? Hiding me...putting me under 24 hour surveillance...its no different than running. I dont want to be away from you either oikawa”

How did you always clear his head? It was like your words just made everything make sense

He made his way onto your bed and started to kiss you, soft yet hungry for more

He could never get enough of you

You made his heart full

And you became his strength

You made him strong and he could never forget this debt

taglist:  @the-ironic-me @multisun @my-mass-hysteria @sugawsites @youbloodylegendyoudidit @sinthxy @celamoon​ @tinymouth @fait-de-fleurs @tsukifanbase​ @69owo​ @laglyssage @hearteyeskags​ @ntngann​ @shnnn​ @fukuro-dani-ace​​ @exponentially-tired​​ @soy1melk​

[internalsealpanic]

Fabulous Friday Evenings

Summary: You were having a really bad day.  Conner decides to help cheer you up and make sure your drunk ass doesn’t face plant on the side walk.

masterlist 

word count:  2,652

a/n: Special thanks to @anothertimdrakestan for helping with the ending and helping with editing! Love you, Elle!

warnings: alcohol and swearing and author does not know how alcohol works.  No one is under the drinking age. This may benefit from more editing. 

"Mosht people are jusht the careful scaffolding of complexshesh," you slurred, your face red, head half buried in your arms, and golden ear cuffs winking under the dim bar lights.

"You somehow still sound like a fucking nerd even you're when drunk," Conner laughed throwing his head back, handsome face stretched with a cheeky smile.  "You look like a mess," he said softly, reaching out for your cheek.

"Fuhk you! Not eberyone can be born too pretty for their own guhd- how did yah evehn know I was here? It was Tim wasn't it! "

"Good guess buuuut it was actually Bart" Conner explained casually taking a seat next to you as you lifted your head momentarily before plopping it back down to stare at the amber gloss of the drink. The light from the ceiling seemed to dance so elegantly in your eyes even as you wrinkled your brows. "That rat," you cursed miserably into your arm. 

Across from you, a pretty brunette shot you two a wink and without looking you could tell Conner flirted in kind. Normally, you'd have the audacity to steal the girl's attention away before Conner could even make a proper move but tonight you were in absolutely no mood to be charming. In fact, you were sloshed. You didn't know whether it was the fourth or fifth drink that did it but there you were sitting next to one of the most attractive people he knew with your makeup smeared and  eyes still swollen and puffy. You kind of just want a portal to open up and swallow you.

 The brunette made a motion to her friends which indicated that she was gonna try her luck and you wished her the best of luck. You bit your soft lips before pressing them into a pout. It took everything in Conner not to kiss you on the spot. Be the responsible one they said. It would be fun, they said. 

"We should go. You're-"

"Have fun," you said, patting him on the shoulder, cutting him off curtly; placing some cash on the bar before leaving. The buxom brunette approached Conner placing a hand on the shoulder you’d just touched moments before. He didn’t seem to notice her, his mind still lingering on the warmth of your hand.  Before she can say anything, he pivots and runs towards you .

The casual slump in your shoulders in place of your usual elegance was a pretty good indication that you would probably fall in a gutter before you got home. Conner highly doubted  you could see straight. 

"I can’t believe Roz let you get this sloshed without checking on you," He joked bringing one of your arms over his shoulder and slinging his own arm around you for balance. You walked like a newborn horse. It was incredibly embarrassing and you wanted to die. Conner, on the other hand, just found it incredibly hilarious.

 "She's out getting into her own brand of sloshed at a bachelorette party,"

"Huh. Didn't know she was the wedding type. Thought she hated going to those,"

"She's the stripper," You deadpanned, sounding abnormally sober.  With that Conner let out a genuinely hearty laugh. You would trade all the martinis, dackories, and margaritas in the world just to get drunk on that laugh. 

"That reminds me," Conner drawled, adjusting his hold feeling just how shaky you were from the late October Metropolis weather pressing you closer to his warm body. You kind of wanted to melt into his side but you had too much pride. "Bart never said why you were out here getting shit faced," You frowned at him but couldn't really muster any sharpness into your expression.

 There were lots of reasons to get 'shit faced' even in shiny Metropolis. You twitched your nose and mouth side to side gathering the makings of a sentence. Where do you even start? Your little sister got suspended, your mother (who somehow found out you were in Metropolis) is either demanding money or for you to drop everything to go back home to help around the house (translation: help out with the bills while babysitting your siblings), Bats and some other league members were on your ass for the last mission (probably the only thing on this list you found reasonable),  this morning, you got fired from your library job so they could hire Marco's girlfriend (who is in fact a perfectly nice person which means you can't really hate her), or the dozens of little annoyances such as Bart not being able to keep his trap shut. 

"This week was just a little much," 

A long moment of silence passes between you. Uncharacteristic for Conner but it was cute that he thought silence would make you fess up. 

"You know I could have gone home on my own. That brunette looked like she was up for a good time," 

"Yeah right. Also you're welcome." 

"You're right. Thank you for getting blue balled this fine evening to escort me" you didn't want to be prickly but Conner was being too nice and that made your skin crawl. Why couldn’t he be mean to you right now like a normal person? 

"First off, she wasn't even my type-" You raised a brow. 

"Kon, her tits were the size of Jupiter-" 

"Did you really  just say 'tits'?" 

You threw him a scowl clearly sobering up from irritation.

"Shut up. Point iiiis, you didn't have to-"

"You just said-"

"Oh for the love of- yes, I said tits. Speaking of which you should be staring at some instead of having to lug my sorry ass around on this fabulous Friday evening."  Your hand fluttering, gesturing vaguely in the air.

"Eh. There'll be other Fridays" Kon shrugged.  Pulling you closer and some selfish part of you felt relieved. 

----------

Much to your surprise (you really ought not to be), Roz wasn't home yet which meant you had to dig out the keys from the secret hiding spot- another hassle. You reached out peeling a hilariously well concealed hole in the wall and fished out the set of jingling keys. Conner looked like he was between amusement and bewilderment. Good enough.  At least, this stopped Conner's 30 minute TED Talk about the new 70s sitcom he'd found. 

You two entered the shoe box apartment clumsily thanks to your disastrous limbs. 

You blew out a breath and muttered a thanks as Conner helped you plop onto the couch.  Though, it was more like gravity decided to magnetize your body to the couch and Conner just let it happen. 

You shut his eyes for a moment wrapping a ragged blanket around you. You made a mental note to raid the thrift store for a new one. Preferably one void of holes. 

"So what's up and don't you dare say it was nothing. I've never seen you this hammered before," He said handing you a mug of steaming hot chocolate. 

"Does it occur to you that I might get hammered like this often and you might just not see it? Who knows maybe I'm actually a functional alcoholic?" 

"Ok, first off, you are barely functional. Second, that might be your weakest deflection yet.  Try again," 

"Ok... did it occur-" 

"I didn't mean it lite- just tell me what happened. Everyone's worried," 

You stared at the steam rising from the fresh cup of cocoa. It was none of Conner's business. It was no one’s business.  Your friends were too goddamn nice. Blowing out another breath, you said "You might wanna sit down too," 

Conner takes his own mug of hot cocoa and sits next to you because for some reason eye contact made you a better liar and Conner for all his dumb decisions wasn't gonna let  you off the hook that easily.  You shifted uncomfortably and muttered about either Cassie or Roz ratting you out. He assumed it was the eye contact thing. Conner felt a little offended. He might not be Tim but he’s smart enough to figure it out on his own. Despite his hurt feelings and bruised ego, he decided to table that and focus on the current issue or, likely, issues.

 "Do you want it in alphabetical order?" 

"Please tell me you can actually do that," Conner teased with a wide grin. You couldn’t fight off a smile forming on your face. "Sadly, I am not Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne. My brain cells work like a normal person's,"

"Didn't you die?" 

"Death only fixes stupid when you stay dead. You've seen Red Hood and whichever other Ex-Robin has been to the pearly gates,"

"You say that as if Jason wouldn't tell the big man to fuck off," 

You blinked and turned your head up to the ceiling. "Ok that's true," You conceded, your mouth twitching rapidly from side to side making you look like an exasperated rabbit.  Cute.

"So what's up?" 

 All the good mood from the past few minutes dissipated in an instant. You looked down solemnly at the still steaming mug. You were silent for what felt like an eternity. 

 "It's family- Immediate.  And the source of all evil-"  

 "Lex Corp?" 

You snorted a shy tired smile cracked across your face.  You shook your head. Those little gestures just make Conner feel a little warmer. You, on the other hand, cursed at how easily Conner could make you laugh. You were  supposed to be sad damn it. 

"Money," Conner knew immediate family was always a sore spot for you. No one knew the specifics except Roz but that was inevitable when you're cousins.  Money was also a sore spot and based on your near dead tone. You’ve either lost a lot of it or you’re in a tight spot but not ready to elaborate. 

"Wanna try buying a lottery ticket?"

"What?"

"Who knows you might get lucky?" 

"You could have gotten lucky you if you-" 

"Are you seriously gonna keep bringing that up?" 

"Yes, most likely. Depends," 

"On what?!" 

"On whether I can think of something funnier to give you shit about or if you can convince me-whatever the fuck you're thinking of doing stop!"Conner's cheeky grin did not disappear nor did the faint flush on your cheeks. 

"I wasn't thinking of anything, you sick pervert" he laughed. You really should have been exasperated with Conner. You tried damn it. You looked at him skeptically before violently letting his head rest on Conner’s shoulder causing the other boy to fall over. 

"Aaaaaaawwwww babe , if you wanted to cuddle you could have just said so," 

You wanted to. In fact,  both of you wanted to. But unfortunately neither of you were martian and neither of you was willing to say jack.  You closed your eyes trying to pretend Conner wasn't a little shit. Conner radiated too much smug for that though. 

"Shut up," You mumbled into Conner's shoulder already feeling sleep pull him under. You clung to him. Maybe just for tonight you can indulge in this. Just for a little while you can cling to Conner's warmth. Maybe in the morning your head will ache too much to remember this. Waking up alone wouldn't be too painful then. Hopefully. 

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

You woke up feeling like a troop of Can Caning hippos decided to host a live performance all over your head. You sighed remembering that you had in fact run out of Aspirin just days before so you decided on just lying there and praying that Roz also needed Aspirin and  had more energy to run to the store. 

You settled in nuzzling in to the warm- 

Wait. It was October. 

Nothing in the apartment should be warm. 

NOTHING. 

Then, you heard it.  A LOUD snore. It honestly sounded more like the roar of an engine than anything.  Everything else followed. The slow rising and falling of the chest beneath you, the press of stubble against your forehead, and the strong arms loosely wrapped around you. 

Yeah. You died again. Yeah. You finally went to heaven. Yup. You were ok with that. You were  definitely 100% A Ok with this if this was heaven. Being held tenderly by the guy you liked while you got a good night’s sleep was definitely heaven. God, you were such a sap.  

How the hell you missed all of that baffled you.

 Oh wait. Dancing hippos. Fuck. 

Your head felt like it was threatening to crack open but somehow you honestly could not mind even if you tried. You were  laying on top of a hot (literally and metaphorically) guy mutually cuddling. You nuzzled into the junction between Conner’s neck and shoulder in an attempt to steal more warmth. Sure, you were probably gonna go deaf from the snoring. Sure, you were definitely irritated by the stubble pressed against your face. And sure, you would probably die of embarrassment once Conner woke up. You could worry about all that later. All you could think about was how nicely your arms fit around Conner’s neck and how Conner’s arms wrap around you a little tighter in return. 

Click. 

Click. 

You could hear the distinct sound of your own camera shutter. Each sound chipped away at your peace of mind. You lifted your head only to see Roz holding your camera. 

TAKING PICTURES. 

Your cousin was nothing if not a petty opportunist. 

“I would tell you to get a room buuuut the only bedroom iiiiis preeeeeeetty occupied,” Roz drawled  smugly way too pleased with herself. You opened his mouth to ask but you’d already made the mistake of walking in on Roz and a guest once and you were  pretty sure you needed more therapy for that than you did for your murder. You just sighed as Roz took another picture.

“Come on, (y/n), smile a little,”

“I’m not smiling for your blackmail material,”

Roz gasped trying to sound scandalized. She failed, only sounding amused beyond belief. “It’s only blackmail if you’re ashamed of it. Personally, I think you’re scoring big time,”

“Roz please just fuck off before you wake him up,”

“Too fuckin’ late for that. He’s been awake for awhile,” 

You could  feel Conner smiling into your hair and his arms wrap around you  a little tighter. You tried to straighten up. To tower over him. To look intimidating. 

But…. you couldn’t. You were kind of trapped because, yanno,  super strength.

 You were seething and threw a scowl at Conner who only chuckled at you in response.  

“You’re never gonna let me live this down, are you?” You snarled, clearly exasperated and feeling the hippos start their encore performance. 

“ Mmmmmm, it depends,” Nope. The hippos did not only come back for an encore. They brought friends. Based on the absolutely smug look on Conner’s face, you were in for an entire parade. 

You let out a breath not sure if you wanted to play this game but not really seeing any other options.  “On what?“

Conner paused and hummed and hummed and hummed some more as if he was actually thinking but you knew from the crook of his lips that he had this planned out. Maybe not this exact scenario but something close“Go out on a date with me,”

You blinked then rolled your eyes theatrically enough that your head rolled along with it.   “And be seen with you in public?” You teased, an almost sheepish smile tugging at your features.

Yeah, Conner wasn’t exactly expecting you to say yes.

 “Yeah. Sure. Why not?” You said playing it off as casually as possible but you couldn’t help but mirror the absolutely goofy grin plastered on Conner’s face.  His happiness was infectious. You felt weightless. It was probably the fact that you were floating with him but you were pretty sure you were just on cloud nine. You were doomed. Definitely, inevitable, indubitably doomed. Even though everything has been shit up to now. The happiness radiating off of Conner was enough to make everything feel a little better.  

Thank you so much for reading!

tag list: 

@idkmanicantenglish

@batarella (I thought you might like it?)

[jamiedc-they-them]

Who you used to (and can no longer) be (Platonic)

Requested Imagine: Dany x Brother reader, maybe reader was caught by Cersei and is reunited with Dany. idk its a stretch but it came to mind. it can be angsty or nah whatever u want, B

  It had been a while since you’d seen anything but the small reflection of light from a torch on the cell door. It had been a while since you had heard anything but the rats in the cell that you were thrown into months ago or the creaks of the door or the rustles of your chains.

You got a new sound, that being of the door opening. You also got a bit lighter, for a moment that was. The door was then slammed closed, and a voice that was anything but new spoke.

“Still awake? Hm, I have to give you the fact that you’ve lasted longer than I thought you would,” The taunting voice of Cersei Lannister spat as she approached you, goblet of wine in her hand as always, “Then again, you were always the odd one out, weren’t you? The little Targaryen runt? I do have to wonder though, what your whore of a sister will do to get you back?”

She came even closer to you, now towering over you, “See, the families all live up to their sigils, don’t they? Lannister’s as lions who tear their enemies apart; the Starks, the lucky wolves in a pack who can survive the winter; then there’s the Targaryen’s,” She poured the wine onto you, aggravating your wounds.

“As the feisty, fiery dragons, with so many scars. What’s one more though? Although, I’m sure to your sister, it would make all the difference between you being worth saving and you being left behind to rot. But we’ll see.”  

 It had been a while since Danny had been able to sleep. It had been a while since she had been able to think straight and not have her mind on something other than the fact that her brother was still missing.

It had gotten to the point where she had accidentally called Jorah, Y/N. The man hadn’t minded, of course, he politely corrected her and moved on. Still, it showed. It showed how much of her mind was chipping away at a plan to get you back and safe.

“My Queen,” Daenerys turned to Tyrion, the one who had called her name, “Maybe we should make preparations for when we get Lord Y/N….Make preparations for as to how to proceed.” He suggested, struggling to find a correct way to phrase it without triggering and setting her off.

“What do you mean?” She questioned, blunt and with a bit of fear and tremble in her voice.

He looked to the others for a moment before proceeding, “I just mean, that Lord Y/N will not fully be the same Y/N we knew before his capture…We’ll need to tread lightly. He will be traumatized.”

“But he’s still my brother.” Danny said without hesitation, firmly.

“He doesn’t mean it in offence, your grace,” Missandei said, trying to clear things up, “What he – we mean, is that Y/N will be different, and we need to be aware of that.”

Danny nodded, “We will, but I know Y/N, and I will do what is best for him.”

They didn’t meet eyes, but the others could tell that it wasn’t exactly true. She’d work on a phantom form of you.

One that didn’t exist anymore.

 “Your grace!” A soldier said as he entered the throne room, holding a folded piece of paper, “I have….” He took a moment to catch his breath, have you seen how many steps their were to get to the throne room?

“.I have news on Y/N, Cersei Lannister has him! She wants to meet!” He yelled, giving a brief synopsis of the letter.

Wow, this really wasn’t royal at all, was it?

Then again, the soldier seemed to know that, when it came to you and your safety, royalty was thrown out the window.

Daenerys stared at the soldier in shock. It seemed that the plan that she had devised on her own was also out the window.

 “It’s obviously a trap, if anyone knows my sister well enough to know one of her devious schemes, it’s me.” Tyrion made his thoughts on it known. Don’t go.

“Of course, it is,” Grey worm then turned to Danny, “You shouldn’t go, my Queen. Or, if you do, at least bring some guards with you. I’ll find you my best men –”

“No,” Her words stunned all the room, “Cersei asks for me, she gets me alone. I’m not risking Y/N: I’m not losing the only family I have left.”

She knew it was risky. She knew that this could just be something that would end up with the two last Targaryen’s                 being killed. But she also knew that she couldn’t just leave you.

She had to bring you home, to make you feel safe once again.

 It was the dead of night but hearing Tyrion gasp and knock chairs over made everyone rush to the meeting room. There, it held everyone bar one.

Daenerys.

“She left.” He announced in a solemn tone.

There was no stopping her now.

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

Being the youngest made Daenerys’ motherly side show itself so much more than it ever had. Or, unfortunately, more than she ever got the chance to show it. Losing her child was hard, don’t get her wrong; to lose a life she would never know and that would be her own by blood and fix the mistakes.

Now, you were that. You were the thing she had to protect, no matter what. It had started with your brother, his abuse that went more to you as a way to punish her; two birds and all that.

Her maternal instincts made her help comfort you; it helped her help treat your wounds; it helped her be more empathetic; it helped her get through it, putting her mind of helping her younger sibling through the pain kind of helped her through her own.

 She had to admit, the small crew she had brought for the boat did a good job. Was it the most royal of arrivals? No, but she couldn’t play the trump card of the dragons yet. She had to get you back with as little hassle as possible.

Power play’s from her could wait. It could wait until she had you to help council her on it. You were always a smart one smarter than her and always willing to listen to others while arguing your own view.

She was losing it, she had to admit. Hell, she’d sailed all the way with barely any protection, so that wasn’t nothing. Still, if this was it, she didn’t want to make it worse for you.

If this was it, at least you’d be together in the end. The Targaryen siblings vs the world; the world might win, but it wouldn’t win without you both giving it one last chilling smile of acceptance.

“You’re hear to see Queen Cersei?” The guardsman asked. If he had any other right to speak, he probably would’ve mentioned the lack of guards. Still, part of Daenerys appreciated the fact that he didn’t, that he simply let it go and led her up at her nod.

Yes, she was here to see the queen. No, she was not there to burn it all down.

At least, not yet, anyway.

 The stones were sharper here. In Dragonstone, it had a smoothness to them that made it feel like you were almost gliding on them. It definitely helped make it not feel as big as it did, steps wise.

These were different, these were jagged and edgy; small bits pointing out that dug in a few instances. Definitely not well kept.  

Still, that was put aside when she reached the top. In reaching it, she saw you on the floor. She finally got a good look at you. In the dreams (and nightmares) she’d have of finding you, it’d always be you either looking normal or you being too bloodied to recognise.

This was a mix but leaning a lot more towards the dreams than the nightmares (which, unfortunately, came more often than the dreams did). You were bloody, just in your nose and a cut on your lips; your eyes weren’t too bad, if not a little fucked up from punching.

Over than that though, you were breathing and alive. When you met eyes, you looked scared more than relived. Then again, she was riding a high of relief at just seeing that you were ok.

Now came the part where she kept you and herself that way.

 “I must admit, I didn’t expect you to arrive,” Cersei said as she sipped her wine, “Then again, when one of your flock are hurt, the others huddle around them, don’t they?” She taunted.

However, the fire in her eyes died a little when she saw that it was just Danny, “Came alone, did you? It could’ve been a trap.”

Still could be, “It may have been, but I wasn’t going to just abandon my brother. Just as I’m sure you wouldn’t.” She knew it was borderline flattery. But she had to not piss her off.

“Are you alright, Y/N?” Danny asked, fire completely gone from her eyes and a soft gaze replaced it; one filled with love and familial concern. She was dead certain that these types of looks (ones of comfort and respect and love) were something that you had been sorely missing.

There was silence at her answer. You looked as if you hadn’t even heard her question. She, however, didn’t lose hope. You were still in there somewhere.

“Boy,” You looked to Cersei with a shaking body, “Answer your sister.” She commanded.

You looked at Danny, eyes fearful and slightly unfocused. You only nodded, all-be-it slowly.

“Verbally.” Cersei said, not in a snap, but a calm voice.

“I’m alive.” You croaked out.

“Louder.”

“I’m ok.” Your words finally reached Danny, and she could hear just how unused your voice had been. It was raw, and it had cracked.

She could see that you clearly weren’t. But she could deal with that later.

  “Why did you ask for me if it wasn’t a trap?” Daenerys asked.

Cersei paused, her face showing that it was a valid question, “Because, I wanted you to see what a broken Targaryen looks like. The mess that they can be. The pain that they can be in. You see, when you do fully come here, to try and take what you believe is yours, maybe you’ll remember this.”

 “He hit me.” You were shaken, still shaking as you sat on your bed and your older sister knelt in front of you.

She took your shaking hands in her own, “He did, yes.” She said, regretfully.

“Why? What did I do to make him hate me.” Your question broke her heart a little.

“You did nothing, dear brother. Nothing. It’s all his ego,” She comforted. She knew, sadly, that the damage had been done. But she knew one thing, she wasn’t going to let it destroy you.

Not you.

 “You can have him,” Danny looked at Cersei in shock, “Take it as a warning. As a precautionary tale.”

 Danny didn’t waste any time in coming to you and picking you up. She didn’t look at Cersei, only you. She then hugged you. You stiffened but didn’t hug back. She didn’t seem to mind much though. She just held you tightly.

She had you, and you were back with those you belonged with.

Now she just had to return home.

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

The ride back, you sat in your room. Well, you laid in your bed, more like. You only ate when she would bring you food. She wanted to be the one to do it, she knew that you wouldn’t respond to anyone else.

She didn’t try and get you to speak. She knew that you wouldn’t want to and trying to force you to would only lead to more problems.

Still, at least she didn’t have to order the crew not to bother you: they seemed to just know from the get-go.

 “I have no choice in this.” She told you, trying to not allow her voice to tremble and show you the fear she felt. She had to be strong for you.

“I can’t just lose you.” You said in quiet voice. Your fear ruled you. Whenever you had been hurt, she had been there to help you; to help you rise back up when you fell.

Now, that would be gone.

She glided to you, kneeling once more to your level. She put her fingers under your chin and lifted it up, “Whatever happens, we go together. I’m never leaving you, little brother. Never. I’ll protect you as much as I can.” She promised you and pulled you into her arms.

You hugged her back, fearfully.

 The boat arrived, and there stood four or so angry advisors. Well, angry and relieved. Danny walked slowly, holding your hand and arm, and helping you walk down the ramp. She had almost not done this, as you had flinched and pulled your arm away when she went to touch.

However, after a moment, you had allowed it. She led you down, fully concentrated on your wellbeing. She didn’t take any notice of her friends. She only said one thing to you.

“We’re home.”

 The tent was big, but that didn’t matter to you. It was lonely. You were lonely. However, you didn’t tell her; you knew she had enough on her plate, and your issues would only add to that.

“Hey,” You looked up at her soft eyes that seemed to notice your turmoil, “We’ll be fine. We’ll make it through this to the other side, together. I promise, you’ll be fine.”

 “I kept it the same. I didn’t want to touch anything just in case you wanted to make any changes yourself.” You nodded mutely as you entered your room. In the past, it would be a place of comfort, a place where you could feel almost free. This was not that. This place felt foreign and the warmth was something you were used to, just in a torturous way.

The first thing you did was close the curtains.

“You used to love that in the morning.” Your sister didn’t know why she said those words; but she still had.

“Maybe, but not anymore.” You used to be quiet, but this was the quietest she’d heard you.

 She remembered the first time she had been forced to have sex with Drogo. The way he was in charge and she whimpered. She had still been holding out some sort of hope that she could get away from his.

She knew she wouldn’t be able to. She knew she had to adapt.

So, she did. She gave into it. She gave into him. Deep down, she was still the scared little girl who had been dealing with her own trauma. But that girl was repressed more and more.

In the name of survival.

 She had woken on a brand-new day. She woke up with some vigour this time, just happy to have everything back to normal in a way.

She got up and ready for the day, taking in the view from her room.

She then left to fetch you. She felt like a walk would maybe help you a little. They had in the past after all.

However, when she knocked on your door, she received no answer.

“Y/N, it’s me.” She said softly, hoping that announcing that would help you.

Still, the door did not open.

When she went to knock again, she stopped herself when she put her ear to the door only to hear nothing inside.

She put her hand on the handle, turning it. It went all the way; the door was unlocked.

She opened it fully, and her eyes widened, and her breath quickened at what she saw, an empty room.

 She didn’t think she could run this fast, yet here she was. She was yelling orders, “Find Y/N!” Was the main one she was able to track.

You were missing again, but this time it was voluntary.

Now, she just figure out where you had gone. Where you had taken yourself to.

She stopped, letting oxygen fill her lungs. As she took deep gulps, she pressed her back against a wall and took a moment to think; to actually think.

 “Come on!” You cried out in excitement as you led your sister by the hand to your destination.

“Slow down, Y/N.” She tried to be serious, but your happiness made her have a smile of her own at your enthusiasm. You had always been a more pessimistic one, but these moments that could last for a while and bursts of happiness made herself happy.

“Here.” You said, stopping and lowering your hands, pulling her towards you.

Ahead of you laid a lake. It wasn’t the largest, or the deepest. But, still, a small lake was a small lake.

The sun seemed to catch the water just right and it shimmered.

“Oh, Y/N, it’s beautiful.” She said, softly. She took the view in. This beat anything from her window for sure.

 That was the day before you were taken. It was a memory that she both played over and over again, but also wanted nothing to do with it.

Now it was the key.

She knew where you were now. Only thing was, the context of your visit had changed. Just like you had had.

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

She was right, you were there. You were sat down instead of stood. She watched you for a moment. Actually, saw you for who you were now. Yes, you were still her brother, but you had changed.

She approached you, taking a seat next to you. For once, she didn’t try to force anything. Instead, she just looked at the view, taking in the head and the peacefulness of the place. It was nice.

“I started to have visions while I was there,” She was the now the one looking up at you. However, she didn’t talk, “I couldn’t tell you when I started to do that. It just kind of….happened. Moments where I would see things that a rational part of me knew wasn’t there, but that part was destroyed by the part that wanted it to be real.”

“Who did you see?”

“A mix of you and the others. To be honest, mostly you,” You looked at her as you continued, “You’ve always been the one to look after me. And I appreciate it, so much. But, since I got back, it’s….it’s just been too much. You’re acting as if I’ll snap right back to who I was, but I won’t. I can’t.” You confessed.

“I know….I know,” She let her voice shake this time. She wasn’t going to hide her emotions anymore. You were old enough and knew enough about to world to know the feelings she had, the fear, the pain, and the loss.

“I’m sorry that I did that.”

“We’ll get there. We’ll get there.” You assured; but it seemed it was more so for yourself.

“What can I do right now?” She asked.

“Just….just stay.”

“Of course.” She assured.

[duhragonball]

Hellsing Liveblog Ch. 57-61

This is the “Wizardry” arc. 

I don’t know why it just now occurred to me, but there’s more than a hint of the Joker in the Major’s character.   He’s always grinning, and now we have him dancing on a blimp while enemy helicopters are firing on him.

The Doctor shits a brick over this, because the arrival of the Vatican’s 9th Crusade force is the first serious resistance that Millennium has encountered since they invaded London.   He begs the Major to come back inside and move their airship to safety, but the Major is too preoccupied with dancing like a goofball.   Up to this point, the audience must have been eager to see someone take a poke at the Major.  I know I was, if only to see what sort of powers he had.   I mean, he hasn’t aged a day, but he doesn’t seem to be a vampire, so what’s his deal?

But before we can find out, the helicopter that was about to shoot him gets torn apart by magic wires.   Wait... that sounds like...

DUN DUN DUUUUUNNNNNNN! 

Yeah, Walter’s switched sides.   He’s also younger-looking too, so this must be what Schrodinger was talking about when he told Zorin that the Major and Doctor had a new “toy”.   They were too busy turning him into a vampire to bother punishing Zorin for disobeying orders.   In the previous chapter, the Major asked about using Walter (without mentioning him by name), and the Doc said something about the rushed nature of the job.    Presumably, the Doctor was doing the artificial vampire treatment on Walter all through the night, while Seras and the Wild Geese were defending the mansion. 

What I’ve never been sure of is whether this was a spur-of-the-moment decision, or if Millennium approached Walter a long time ago, and Walter’s been their mole in Hellsing throughout this entire story.   The Major’s line here seems to suggest this was a long-term plan.    “I had already decided half a century ago.   The Death’s Head [the Nazi SS skull insignia] is a fitting match for the Angel of Death [Walter’s old Hellsing codename].”

But that could just mean the Major thought of the idea way back then.   He saw Walter and Alucard wrecking all his stuff in World War II and thought “This kid would be a good recruit someday!” But when did he make the pitch?   Was it last night?    Before the Valentines’ attack?   Before Arthur Hellsing’s death?   Before the end of the war?

I think it’s reasonable to assume that Walter was on board at least before he parted ways with Integra back in Chapter 39.  The Captain suddenly showed up, and he told Integra to take the car and flee, because he wasn’t sure he could defeat the Captain and he didn’t want her around in case he failed.   But it’s much more likely that he only said this to keep her from finding out that he had a rendezvous with the Major, who arrived soon after.   

Now that I think about it, this may be the only reason the Major sent his troops to capture Integra.   He wasn’t particularly concerned about her, but he knew Walter would be with her, and he wanted to get him to the Doctor as quickly as possible.   This may also be why he ordered Zorin Blitz to hold off on attacking the Hellsing mansion.  If Walter had been inside, Zorin wouldn’t have known about his allegiance, and it’s very likely that one might have killed the other.  

Actually, yeah, this is why the Major fired those rockets on the Hellsing mansion in the first place.   If Walter was there, he would know the attack was coming, and use the attack to cover his departure. Then Zorin probably would have been ordered to give him a lift back to the Doctor.  But Walter wasn’t home, and Zorin didn’t wait for orders, and Seras turned out to be much too powerful for her.  

Wow, this is like peeling an onion.  That must be what the Major meant when he chided Zorin for costing him “precious soldiers.”    Her reckless tactics got her and her company killed, but she might have also wrecked his plans to extract Walter, and it’s only a matter of luck that he happened to be at the naval base instead of the mansion. And we know that Zorin knew nothing about Walter, because Schrodinger only hinted about him without mentioning his name.   If Zorin had known, he would have just said “Yeah, we’re turning Walter into a vampire right now, no thanks to you.”

Anyway, Walter’s betrayal fascinates me, but also fuck you, Walter, you traitorous piece of shit.

Speaking of treachery, the 9th Crusaders are busy shooting the shit out of London, killing anything that survived the previous night.    Millennium is a threat, sure, but Maxwell sees this as an opportunity to conquer England for the Catholic church.    I’m not really sure “conquer” is meant literally.   I think it’s more like, Hellsing and the Iscariot Organization have some treaty, and I think that treaty applies to their respective governments as well, but the civilian governments might know nothing about it.    Maybe?  

What I’m saying is that I think this 9th Crusade is supposed to end with the overthrow of the Anglican Church in the United Kingdom, with a new Catholic-leaning regime in its place, so that the Pope would have the same influence over the U.K. that he apparently has over continental Europe.   

In that sense, I’m pretty sure Hellsing’s version of John Paul II didn’t order Maxwell to gun down civilians and shout “Die did die die!” over a loudspeaker.   He may not have been terribly worried about Protestant casualties, but there’s plenty of Catholics living in London, after all.    Maxwell doesn’t seem to care, and I think it’s clear that he’s exceeding his mandate.   

And Alexander Anderson knows it.   I think the whole Catholic contingent in this story knows that Maxwell’s gone too far, but Anderson’s the only one honest enough to say it out loud.    Anderson’s group is still escorting Integra home when the 9th Crusade attacks, and Integra accuses Maxwell of betraying her, but Anderson remarks that such backstabbing is typical in war.    So it’s not Maxwell’s duplicity that offends him, it’s the way he’s going about it.   When Anderson kills people, he’s doing it to serve God, and God alone.   Maxwell’s not serving God at all.

“All you’re serving is his power!!” Anderson says.    By “his” does Anderson mean Satan?  Millennium?  Mars, the god of war?   Maybe all three, or maybe it doesn’t matter.   I always thought Maxwell was serving his own power, but the point is that he’s not doing God’s will by any stretch of the imagination.

But the others still respect the chain of command.  Archbishop Maxwell is in charge of the 9th Crusade and the Iscariot Organization, and Heinkel reminds Anderson that they were ordered to capture Sir Integra, not escort her home.    So they all draw their guns on Integra, resulting in the most Integra panel ever.

Then Seras shows up and beats all their asses.   Yeaaaaahhhhh!   Seras, you’re doing amazing, sweetie!

Everyone’s like “Oh shit, it’s Seras Victoria!” like they’re gonna try to fight her, but Anderson can tell that Seras is now way out of their league.   Remember, this group of Iscariots fought some Millennium troops and half of them were killed.   Seras tore through about as many Milennium troops without much hassle at all, and that was before she drank Pip’s blood.

And Anderson spares some words of praise for his foe.   I guess this is like the owner of a Ford truck exchanging compliments with the owner of a Chevy truck.    “You’re a rat bastard, Chevy man,” he says, “but those are some fine Truck Nutz” you have dangling from your tow hitch.”  They’re never gonna be pals, but real recognizes real.

Also, I just think Seras looks super extra-cool in this moment.  Anderson kind of treated her like a joke before, but now he sees her as a peer.   She looks so dark and haunted now, and at the same time she’s more comfortable and sure of herself than we’ve ever seen her.    Seras never set out to become a vampire, but she’s still found herself on this path.  It’s scary and beautiful at the same time.

But never MIND that SHIT, here comes...

No, not Maxwell, Alucard is returning!  I just used this page because Maxwell’s reaction to the news is more interesting than gloomy images of a ruined carrier drifting up the Thames river.   

There’s a moment in the Hellsing Ultimate anime, right after Seras and Anderson turn to look, where she’s got this big grin on her face, and she goes “I can feel it.   He’s returning.”  It’s not in the manga, maybe because it’s not that important, but I’m a sucker for any Seras content, and I love that moment because she can sense Alucard at a distance now, and it’s a very pleasant experience.   For Seras, I mean.  I suspect it’s actually a very bonechilling, bloodcurdling sensation, but Seras has gone Full Goth, so she digs that sort of thing now.  

I don’t know how the hell Anderson can sense Alucard, though.   Maybe being a Regenerator gave him super smelling powers, like Wolverine.  

And even the Major is pleased, because now we finally have all the major players in the same city.   Not sure why the Captain rates an appearance here, when he never says a word, but we’ll run with it. 

So, up to now, we’ve had these 9th Crusaders lined up against Millennium soldiers, each cosplaying as troops from old wars.  I guess Millennium’s SS uniforms have hint of legitimacy to them, as these guys really were part of the SS back in World War II, before they became vampires.  But the point stands, they’re walking anachronisms and they know it.  

But then Alucard jumps in between them, practically giddy for a chance to participate in this war.   Not to be outdone, Anderson and the Captain perform similar Iron Man landings on the same street.   When I watched the OVA, this was about the point I started to wonder if I had missed something about the Captain, because this story has been hinting that he’s like Millennium’s strongest guy, and somehow on par with Anderson and Alucard, even though he hasn’t said anything or done anything this entire time.   This would be like if Superman and Goku squared off in the middle of London, and then some rando OC from DeviantArt walked up to join them.   Like, we know Al and we know Andy, but who the hell is this dude?   I don’t care if he can hang with these two, they should have established that earlier.

Al asks for orders, and Integra makes this big production out of “Kill everybody with a racist uniform and a funny accent.”   Okay, fine, but this is a lot of bad guys.   How is even Alucard supposed to take them all down?  And this leads us to Control Art Restriction Level Zero.

I’m just gonna cut to the chase, because this post is running long enough already.  Al used “Level 1″ to make short work of Luke Valentine and Rip van Winkle, and maybe Dandyman as well, I’m not sure.   Recall that nothing could stop Alucard on the H.M.S. Eagle.   The Blackbird crash, the Millennium soldiers, Rip’s magic bullets, none of it.   So he activates “Level 0″, which ought to be even more gonzo overpowered, and starts reciting this alchemical poem which I really out to cover in some other post, and all the bad guys panic and start attacking him. 

To all the smartasses who say “Well why don’t the bad guys attack them during the transformation?” there you go.   AGAIN.   This sort of thing happens a lot more than you’d think, and it never works, because anime/manga creators are more self-aware than you’d think.   It never works, because if it did, then it wouldn’t be “attacking a character in mid-transformation”.  It would just be “killing a guy before he could do his big move.”  So when a character does a big climactic thing like this, there’s really only two options.   1) Have the other characters stand back and watch, or 2) have them TRY to stop it, only to fail, because it’s too late for that.

Anyway, I’m skipping all of that and just showing the end result of Alucard’s power-up.   The bad guys tear his body apart, but it doesnt’ matter because that never worked on him before, and then all these undead men crawl out of the black ether that seems to make up Al’s body.   Just a veritable flood of humans, all washing out of him like a tide of death.  

Anderson starts to figure it out when he recognizes some of the uniforms on these creatures.   And if that’s not enough, Integra explains it for Seras.   When vampires drink blood, they absorb the very essence of the living being who contained it.    “To suck blood is to make the whole existence of a life one’s own.” That’s why Zorin saw Pip’s memories when she tried to read Seras’ mind.   By drinking Pip’s blood, Seras has taken on Pip’s soul as well.   But that’s just one guy.   Alucard’s been drinking blood for over 500 years.   And each one he consumes becomes another soul in his personal army.   

I’m going to guess that Alucard didn’t always have the ability to manifest all of his victims as familiars like this.   Otherwise, how in the hell was Abraham van Helsing able to subdue him a century earlier?   The Hellsing family did stuff to enhance and improve Alucard’s powers, so maybe this was one of them.  They gave him the means to weaponize all of his victims’ souls, for use in large scale battles like this one. 

And I think this might be why Seras is trembling in this scene, because she knows that this ability was passed down to her when Alucard turned her into a vampire.   Or maybe, she’s realizing that she’s got something in common with all of those dead people in Al’s army.   Alucard made her a vampire, sure, but he still drank her blood, so doesn’t that mean there’s a Seras Victoria creature down there, standing alongside all the Janissaries, Wallachians, and everyone else Alucard has consumed?

Something I picked up on was that this is what all of those eyes in Alucard’s design are supposed to represent.   When he used Level 1 you’d see all these eyes staring out from the shadows, and now Level 0 has brought out all these dead people, like they’re the ones the eyes belong to.  Although, most of them don’t actually have eyes, just smoke trailing from their eye sockets.   So maybe that’s symbolic as well.  

There’s also horses in this mess, and that makes me wonder if Alucard drank the horses’ blood along with the riders. Anyway, Archbishop Maxwell observes all of this from his Popemobile and finally confronts the elephant in the room: Alucard is Dracula, like the Dracula.  I don’t think it was ever meant to be a secret, but Kouta Hirano’s been dancing around it this whole time, without ever spelling it out, and now he’s finally spelling it out.  

I think the only one who might not know is Seras?   Someone might have filled her in off-panel, or maybe she figured it out, since it’s not exactly hard, but I don’t know.

So yeah, somewhere in this arc, they do a headcount of all three sides of this thing.  Millennium has “572″ soldiers left, and the 9th Crusade has “2875″, while Hellsing, of course, is down to just 3.  But Alucard has more than evened the playing field, since he can do this trick and spawn an invincible army.   I’m more confused how Millennium lost 428 guys in one night.   Seras killed a lot of them, but not that many. Sir Penwood got some and Anderson killed a bunch of them, but not hundreds of them.  The Crusaders could have taken out that many, but they haven’t been here very long.  

But yeah, they try to form a Phalanx to hold off Alucard’s forces, and it does not work at all.    You can’t kill these things because they’re already dead. right?  I mean, maybe the Crusaders have holy weapons that can destroy these things, but there’s just too many of them.    And the Millennium troops don’t even have holy weapons, so they’re completely fucked.

But what about the helicopters?  Well, Alucard drank the blood of Dandyman and Rip Van Winkle too, and their powers are now a part of him, which makes quick work of nearby aircraft.    I like how these two look the same as before, but they never say a word.   I think they’re the only ones with normal eyes, although Alucard’s shadow tentrils are still fused with their bodies.  

The Crusaders’ battle lines are broken, and they beg for Maxwell to order a retreat before they’re all slaughtered.   But Maxwell refuses to give up.  He’s drunk on his new power, and so he can’t accept that he’s been one-upped so easily.   Then the helicopter carrying his Popetruck gets destroyed, and he somehow crashes without getting hurt.

And now he’s got a front-row seat to the same hell his troops are experiencing, but he still gloats, because somehow Alucard’s soldiers can’t get through the glass.    He refers to “tektite” reinforcement, and that’s dumb because Tektites are just an enemy in the Legend of Zelda.   I’m onto your ass, Hirano. 

But then Anderson throws a knife at the glass, and that breaks it, so maybe it was magic glass that only a blessed weapon could pierce?    All that really matters is that Anderson has finally turned on Maxwell, and Maxwell is doomed.

Alucard’s dead warriors hoist him up on pikes, fitting for Vlad the Impaler, and Maxwell realizes that he’s going to die alone in a foreign land.   The moral is: Don’t start none, won’t be none.

Then this happens, and I’m pretty sure Dark Horse Comics goofed when they scanned this manga for the digital edition.  I’d contact them to complain, but they don’t even sell Hellsing anymore because they lost the license years ago.   I don’t think a lot of stuff happened on Pages 62-63 of Volume 8 of the Hellsing manga, but I can’t tell.  I’m guessing just Maxwell finally succumbing to his injuries while Anderson pontificates about why he had to do it to him.   And really, Anderson hardly needs to explain his actions in this case.   Maxwell sucked.

Moving on, Anderson contacts all Vatican forces and tells them to withdraw.   They can’t beat Alucard, Maxwell is dead, and there’s nothing more they can do here.  However, Anderson chooses to stay behind and take on Alucard.  

This is Anderson’s reasoning: By releasing all of Alucard’s stolen lives to fight as his army, Alucard has left his person vulnerable to attack.  So Andy thinks that if he gets close enough to Alucard, he can finally have a chance to defeat him.   If he’s right, this might be his only chance to try.   

Anderson further speculates that this may have been the Major’s plan from the beginning.   Invade London, force Alucard to use this Level 0 ability, all to leave Alucard vulnerable to assassination.   Perhaps the Major was even counting on Anderson to see this opening and take it.  

More to the point, I think Anderson kind of has to fight Alucard because it’s the only way his people can escape London.  Integra’s orders were clear: None of these invaders leaves the island alive.    Alucard would continue hunting down the Crusaders whether they retreat or fight back, so some force has to stay and keep them occupied to save the rest.  

Anyway, now we get to the actual part with this scene, where Alucard kneels before his master and she welcomes him back.   It’s pretty satisfying to see all these butthole soldiers finally get what’s coming to them.   

I’m just gonna put up the entire reunion moment because it’s so sweet.   Interesting how Seras sort of reverts to her old self when Alucard returns.    For all that badass power she gained from drinking Pip, she’s still uneasy around Alucard.   But he missed her and I think that look on his face tells the whole story.    He of all people can tell that Seras has finally taken the fateful step to becoming a “true vampire”. 

I do think it’s kind of interesting how Seras continues to address Alucard as “Master”.   He promised her way back in Volume 1 that she’d no longer be a servant if she drank blood of her own free will, but maybe it’s more complicated than that.    Or, perhaps she still calls him “Master” out of respect, rather than any sort of blood bond or whatever you want to call it.   It’s like how Anakin continued to call Obi-Wan “Master” in “Revenge of the Sith”, even though he had been promoted to Jedi Knight.   The relationship is still there, even if it’s no longer official.  

I’m a big, dumb Seras fanboy, so you’d better believe I think about this sort of thing a lot.   I’m not real crazy about Alucard/Seras shipping, although I do sort of get it.   I’m really not interested in Seras in some freaky-deaky sex kind of way.    Take the D/s stuff to the Alucard/Integra room where it belongs.   No, there’s something very wholesome between Alucard and Seras, and I could talk about it all damn day.    And why not?  It’s my blog, and I’ve got the time.    So let’s start with--

Um, excuse you?!  

Okay, so Anderson isn’t waiting around to take on Alucard, so I guess we’re doing this now.

And whether or not the Major planned for this to happen, he certainly approves...

[blametheeditor]

Inktober Day 30: Slither

Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of experimenting on people. Mentions of spiders. Demeaning someone.

Slither: to slide on or as if on a loose gravelly surface

No snakes this time because I like being nonsensical.

_________________

“This is stupid.”

“You’re stupid.”

“You’re literally the most idiotic person on the planet.”

“Prove it!”

David feels like he’s going to explode. At least Eggs knew how much he fucked up asking such a question. The blond going silent as the business man slowly stretches his arms above his head, gesturing toward their surroundings.

“...I see no proof.”

“GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!”

Scott watches as Eggs is chased in what minimal space they have, wincing as t business man throws his all into it, nearly catching the blond a few times. They’re most energetic member has to try to get away.

He’s not helping him, though. If anything he’d try to help David.

But he’s not, a bit too busy trying to get a damn signal to call someone. Anyone. He’d even take Vincent at this point.

How the hell did Eggs manage to shrink them? The blonds great with electronics and building machines, but things dealing with breaking the laws of physics is completely out of his league. The only person who would have that kind of knowledge and resources is-

“Afton.”

David gasps for air as he glares at the little jackass who stopped a few feet away from him, proud they’re at least both completely out of breath. As much as he’d love to murder him the person responsible is only half the problem. The other half is they were standing right next to a ventilation shaft when the world suddenly grew. So they fell right through the safety grate.

He’s not going to question how they’re not hurt after sliding down the world’s most terrifying slide. “Did you say something, Scott?”

“It wasn’t Eggs,” the eldest guar mutters.

“Like hell it wasn’t!”

“We’re in Mike’s restaurant. This is Afton’s playground for putting old experiments.”

David narrows his eyes at him. “Alright lap dog. How do you know this?”

Scott glares back. “Afton puts them up and tells me to watch for the call Mike got caught in one of them.”

Eggs raises a hand. “And how does that prove it wasn’t me!”

“You’re not smart enough to shrink someone.”

“This is true...”

“So Afton’s the reason why we’re tick-tacks. How does that help us?”

“It makes things worse,” the eldest guard sighs, rubbing his eyes. “It means there isn’t a cure. It means we’re stuck down here to die.”

The other two are silent from his revelation, knowing he’s right, and not in the mood to try and say otherwise. Now it’s up to the air conditioning freezing them to death. A rat ripping them to shreds. The snake currently slithering toward them swallowing them whole.

...snake.

“You guys hear that too, right?”

Scott motions for the two to back away from the corner traveling further into the vents, one they haven’t explored yet. One they’re about to run full speed away from.

“Phone Guy?”

They freeze. ”Mike?”

“You’ve got Douche Bag and Egged Jackass, right?”

David shoots a look toward Scott, silently demanding if he’s told anyone about what happened. A shake of the head says he hasn’t even been able to make a single text. And even if he could, Mike doesn’t have a phone.

Eggs hesitates after feeling the lead guard’s voice alone making the vents vibrate under their feet, but it’s Mike. And he’s cold. Soooooo...

“Eggs,” is hissed after him as he darts toward the corner. Waves when he spots something, and then promptly disappears.

“Dumbass.”

“Hey, Mike!”

David shakes his head as he then follows the blond, knowing he’ll have to face the reality one way or another. As much as he’d love chasing Eggs down every vent to see if they can find an opening, letting Mike save them takes the hassle out of getting help out of the restaurant.

That doesn’t mean he won’t pause mid-step at the sight of an essential giant. For once in his life intimidated by a simple look. “There’s Douche Bag.”

The business man clears his throat, searching frantically for something to say back. “Why the hell are you cramming yourself into a goddamn vent?”

“Spider.”

”Spider!”

Scott then appears with wide eyes. “Don’t worry Phone Guy, I killed its ass.”

“If you knew where we were, did Afton give you an antidote?”

The lead guard shakes his head, carefully backing up until he’s sitting in front of the vent instead of inside it. His clothes moving against the metal were what scared them. He’s not afraid to admit it.

“You assholes are fucking loud. Just followed it so I could help you bastards.”

David eyes the hands looking innocent enough. “What does ‘help’ entail?”

“Spider.”

Scott jumps back when he spots the insect, heart racing at seeing it’s as big as him. Right behind David. “HOLY SHIT!”

Suddenly, the business man disappears behind a wall of skin, a second hand cupping around the spider to swiftly free it from the vent. The first hand then follows until it’s held to Mike’s chest, opening to reveal their once tallest member of the group staring at nothing. Unable to move even with a disheveled suit to fix.

Eggs whistles low. “Don’t piss Mike off.”

“You assholes coming?”

“Yeah,” Scott breathes. “Just don’t-”

A scream announces the lead guard only heard the word ‘yes’. Before they can so much as move, fingers snag the blond to deposit him next to David. The last shrunken guard scooped up and held securely as the living building stands up to make his way back to the office.

“We’ll deal with this shit in the morning.”

David still doesn’t move. Eggs starts climbing up to Mike’s shoulder. Scott takes a deep breath to steady his trembling.

“Y-Yeah. Mornings good.”

[jaskiersvalley]

I'm loving all of your fics

Hearing that makes me super happy, Nonnie! Thank you! Have a little ficlet as thanks for being so sweet!

Word had come in advance that Geralt was returning for the winter. Not only that, he was bringing someone with him. It wasn’t just anyone, it was his bard. The bard. The one who had sung songs about witchers to turned the tide in their favour. The one who followed Geralt on his path without fear or prejudice. For the first time in decades, there was an air of excitement in Kaer Morhen. It was prepared with as much care as three witchers could muster up. They wanted Jaskier to feel welcome, wanted the bard to like them.

By the time the two were spotted on the last stretch to the keep, Lambert was almost vibrating with excitement. A human who liked a witcher, Geralt at that! It could mean someone who might extend that friendliness to other witchers too. Next to him, Eskel was only a little more sedate in his anticipation, more shy and self conscious than Lambert. Even Vesemir looked like he’d brushed his hair and made a bit of an effort.

One final sweep of the living areas of the keep and they were satisfied. The pantry was better stocked than it had been in decades, a couple of treats on the shelves for their visitor. Cobwebs had been blasted from the corners and fires set to keep the rooms warm. There was the telltale clang of the door and the sound of voices.

“You really grew up in such a dusty old keep? It’s so drafty, not even spiders want to live in the corners.” An unfamiliar voice drifted through the halls and Eskel slowed a little, uncertain all of a sudden. It wasn’t the warm excitement he had imagined, of a bard with a love of everything, finding beauty and poetry in his surroundings. Lambert looked to him similarly discouraged for a moment.

Meeting Jaskier was underwhelming. His eyes lingered on their scars, even if he didn’t say anything, there was still a silent judgement in his gaze. Self conscious, Eskel turned a little and Lambert began hassling Geralt to hide his disappointment.

Dinner wasn’t much better. They’d tried to outdo themselves for a first shared meal, Vesemir had even brought out a jar of preserved cherries, one of their most treasured and rarest of treats.

“I was at the court of Countess de Stael last winter, she had managed to import the most exquisite of fruits.” Jaskier sighed and looked at the cherries in  small bowl in front of him.

“Maybe you should have spent winter with her again then,” Lambert spat. It had only been half a day with Jaskier but all his hopes had already been dashed. Someone kicked him under the table and he looked down, a little sheepish. “Did I tell you about the selkimore I encountered back in the summer?”

That had Jaskier perking up. “Geralt took a contract for one a few months back. Only, there were two! I wrote a great ballad about it.” And he was off, recounting the most embellished tale of Geralt’s heroics. All the witchers around the table knew it was utter bullshit, half the things Jaskier was spouting, even Geralt looked a little uncomfortable. As soon as the story ended, Eskel excused himself from the table, telling himself Jaskier was just tired from travelling.

Not that the next day was much different. If anything, it was worse. Trying to impress Jaskier and show that Geralt wasn’t the only competent witcher, Eskel decided to train with Geralt. It was going so well too, he’d managed to land a blow to the back of Geralt’s knee and twist the blade from his grip. Eskel’s blade tipped Geralt’s chin up and he looked to Jaskier for approval. He didn’t expect the glare, or Jaskier stomping over to fuss over Geralt. For a few seconds Eskel stood to the side before beating a hasty retreat, knowing he hadn’t impressed Jaskier at all. In fact, he’d managed to become the least favourite witcher in one fell swoop.

That wasn’t to say that Lambert was faring a lot better. After training, he had walked wanted to go get a snack. From the distance he could hear Jaskier’s bright laugh and Geralt’s soft rumbles. Yet it all came to a stop as soon as he stepped through the door. Frustrated, Lambert grabbed the nearest edible thing and stomped out the room. He made a beeline for Vesemir’s room like a wounded pup and knocked impatiently before barging in. It wasn’t even a surprise to find Eskel there too, looking suitably miserable.

From an outside perspective, there was probably something funny about the fact that at over 100, Lambert was the youngest one there and yet he and Eskel were still like sad little children when the new kid didn’t want to play with them.

“Why doesn’t he like us?” Lambert asked, feeling far too lost all of a sudden. “I thought he’d be different. He seems to like Geralt, why not us?”

There was no answer that Vesemir could give. He was just as clueless and disappointed as the other two, the only difference was that he could hide it a bit better.

The biggest issue was that it was obviously having an impact on Geralt. He seemed to realise something was wrong, even started trying to shield Jaskier from the others. He was irritable during training, spent less time with the others in favour of keeping Jaskier company. The one time Eskel made a jibe about getting some fresh air, Geralt had snapped in a way that was usually reserved for Lambert. Usually, Geralt was much more even with Eskel, not because Eskel couldn’t take it but because there was a mutual respect between them.

In short, things were tense and getting worse. Dinners weren’t filled with laughter and song like they’d imagined. In fact, they barely heard Jaskier sing and if they crossed paths in the keep, there wasn’t even a fabled sunny smile sent their way. Because they’d all heard about the bard that travelled with a witcher. More often than not, people were disappointed to find that the witcher coming to answer their call for help wasn’t the famous White Wolf.

“Is he disappointed in us?” Eskel asked, staring morosely into his mug one evening. He and Lambert were huddled away in a dark corner of the cellar, absolutely hiding from the world at large. “Are we more hideous than even he can tolerate?”

“Fuck him,” Lambert spat. “You’re gorgeous just the way you are.”

“I just hoped-” Eskel cut himself off with a wave that encompassed everything he felt. It was something Lambert understood all too well. He pressed his shoulder against Eskel’s in support.

“I know. I hoped too.” Sighing, Lambert emptied his tankard.

There was the sound of the cellar door being pushed open and footsteps approaching. The two of them stayed silent, waiting for the trespasser to leave. It definitely wasn’t Jaskier as there wasn’t any fumbling or the light of a lantern to illuminate the way. Which meant either Vesemir or Geralt.

“Why are you hiding down here?” That was Geralt, perching himself on a crate of potatoes next to them. Before he could be told to fuck off, Geralt headed that delight off with a “Vesemir told me to come here.”

Meddling old man, Lambert was not best impressed with being ratted out like that. Especially not when Geralt said “I thought you two had been sneaking off to fuck.”

At least that got the two spluttering. Truthfully, neither of them had been in the mood since Jaskier had shown up with Geralt. In the end, Eskel was the one to try and delicately raise the issue.

“We know Jaskier is your companion, bard, whatever you call him.”

“My fiance.” Stunned silence settled in the cellar. “And I don’t know why you hate him so much. After this winter, I don’t think we’ll be returning to Kaer Morhen though.”

“We don’t hate him.” Eskel replied, only to be drowned out by Lambert’s indignant “He hates us!”

The problem with three emotionally compromised idiots trying to talk about feelings was that it was never going to end well. Even in the dark, they stared at each other, trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

“But you hate him.” Geralt scratched the back of his neck. “You didn’t smile at him when he arrived, Lambert you told him he should have spent winter elsewhere that first night. Eskel, you glared at him and waved your sword menacingly after besting me in training. Vesemir told him to shut up when he was composing a new song. You don’t want him here and we’ll leave as soon as it’s safe.”

“That’s not what happened!” Lambert was adamant. “He thinks we spend winter in a crumbling piece of shit not even spiders want. Then food wasn’t good enough for him.”

“He hated me for winning that bout,” Eskel cut in.

“And when I interrupted him and you, he stopped singing and laughing.”

Geralt pinched the bridge of his nose. “I told him the place was unusually clean and tidy. And that he had been offered the best food we could provide. He was trying to find a moment to apologise and make amends. The singing only stopped because he was trying to write a drinking song about my dick.”

The three of them stared at each other, trying to make sense of how they could have all gotten the wrong end of the stick.

“He looked disgusted by my scars,” Eskel mumbled, finally airing his biggest hurt.

“You should have heard him in the evening when we retired for the night,” Geralt snorted. “Trust me, he was captivated by your-” he obviously steeled himself for saying it “-natural, rugged beauty enhanced by the bravery you wear on your skin.”

There was a small titter and Eskel smacked Lambert in the shoulder.

“Could we try again?” Geralt asked quietly. “I don’t want to lose my family.”

That sobered things up quickly and they all took a moment to look each other over before Eskel nodded. He stood up and offered Lambert a hand. The quiet “thank you” from Geralt was so out of character, Lambert had half a mind to press a silver dagger to his neck.

They made their was back to the small hall where Jaskier was sitting, poring over a book with Vesemir. He looked up, eyes darting from Geralt to the other witchers, guarded and worried.

“Jaskier,” Geralt approached. “These idiots are my fellow wolves, Lambert and Eskel.”

Instantly there was a marked change, Jaskier was getting up from the bench and bounding over with a wide smile. “It’s a delight to properly meet you both.”

There was a moment of awkwardness where he stood opposite them, bouncing on his toes. Eskel made the executive decision to pull him in for a hug which was instantly returned.

After a rocky start, Lambert and Eskel were delighted to discover that actually, Jaskier was nothing like they had imagined. He was so much better.

[imaginetonyandbucky]

The Buy In

Chapter 2: Taking Out the Trash

by @dracusfyre

“So who exactly are these cops hassling?” Bucky asked the next day as he met up with a man called Kenton at a bodega on 6th. “The shops? Dealers?”

“The ladies,” Kenton 'call me KT' said, shoving his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. KT was stocky and short, with an aggressive undercut and stud in his lip, looking more like an emo kid than a mob enforcer. “We don’t have dealers here.”

“Really? None?" When KT nodded, Bucky asked, "How come?”

When KT eyeballed him skeptically, Bucky said, “Look, it’s my first day, alright? I’m not from around here.”

“Everyone knows the boss hates drugs,” KT said, hitting the button for the crosswalk. “Like, hates. A few years ago he tried to run all the dealers out, but they kept coming back like weeds. Too much demand to keep them out for long, you know? So the boss figures, you don’t kill weeds by cutting them down, you kill them at the roots. So he started targeting the users, not the dealers. First, he bought up the local methadone clinic, set up a rehab house nearby, brought in a bunch of fancy docs. Puts the word out that anyone who wants to dry out can stay for free and gets a sweet deal when you get your ninety-day chip.”

Bucky frowned. “I remember that. The mayor cut the ribbon on the facility, right? I thought the city set up that clinic.”

“Ha!” KT said it like that, an actual ha. “The boss let them take credit for it, sure. But it was his idea and his money. Once he got the clinic up and running, he put the word out to all the dealers, making them an offer: sell him all your goods, give him your client list, and you get a new job that pays twice what dealing does.”

“What happens if the dealer doesn’t take the offer?”

“One day they find themselves on a cargo ship to Madagascar,” KT said, matter of fact. “Or Indonesia, or Kamchatka.”  Bucky doubted that but kept it to himself; it was way more likely that the dealers got dumped in the river while Stark’s organization sold the drugs at a markup. But it was a good story. “Stoners can stay if they grow their shit locally,” KT continued, “but the party bros looking for bumps gotta get it somewhere else. But God help them if they make trouble, because the boss sure won’t.”

“Huh,” Bucky said, noncommittal. “So what are we doing today? Waiting for the cops to show their faces again?”

“Pretty much. Gonna talk to the ladies, then we’ll hang around and see if the pigs come back and let them know that their behavior is not appreciated.” A few more blocks down, KT knocked on an unassuming red door and led Bucky into a whole new world. He’d known when KT said ladies that he’d meant prostitutes and had braced himself for the worst: bare mattresses on the ground, barred windows, dull eyes and needle tracks. But what Bucky walked into looked more like the Waldorf than any brothel Bucky’d ever seen during his brief tour on Vice. Bucky tried not to stare as he took in the thick carpet and tasteful furnishings around the room, with women scattered around in groups chatting. Along one side of the room was a classy bar with mahogany wood and brass furnishings that had a few customers already despite the fact it was barely 5:30. KT approached the bartender, a petite but statuesque redhead with pinup curls wearing a corset that had, if Bucky’s eyes weren’t deceiving him, knives where the boning would be.

“Evening, Widow,” KT said, and the bartender gave him a grin as she slid a beer to the man across from her.

“Evening, gents,” she said, voice pure Georgia drawl. “So did the Iron Man himself send someone down to check on his chickadees?”

“Iron Man?” Bucky echoed in confusion. “You mean the Mechanic?”

“You must be new,” she said with amusement, and KT nodded. “He’s got lots of names, honey. He likes getting them and giving them. Bet he gave you a name, didn’t he?” she said, crossing her arms and leaning on the bar to give him an appreciative once-over. The pose made her look like she was going to spill out of her corset; didn’t do a thing for Bucky, but behind them the man with the beer walked into the back of a couch. “What does he call you?”

Ridiculously, Bucky felt his ears get hot. “Blue Eyes,” he said. “Probably like Jimmy Blue Eyes, I guess, but I don't know why. My name's not James.”

“It’s cuz of them pretty blue eyes of yours,” Widow said, and she laughed as Bucky felt the flush spread to his neck. “He must have taken a shine to you.”

“We're here about those cops you mentioned,” KT cut in, giving her cleavage a glance of appreciation but staying all business. “Stop teasing the help and give us the rundown.”

Widow gave Bucky another sultry smile and stood up straight. As she picked up a glass and rag and started polishing, the Georgia peach act fell away; her movements going from languorous to brisk. “Like I said to the boss, it was Rumlow and Rollins again,” she said, and Bucky’s eyebrows went up as even the accent disappeared. “They must think they got a pretty strong krishna to keep coming around here. They’ve got some of the new girls rattled. Came in just the other night trying to get a 'law enforcement discount,'" she said with a sneer, "and the only way we got them out of here without violence is Hawkeye got them too drunk to know if they were coming or going.” Widow tilted her head towards a man at the far end of the bar who looked like he was passed out, hat drawn down low over his eyes. “I wouldn’t have asked for backup if they weren’t cops, but.” She shrugged, and Bucky understood. Low level patsani, or even higher level enforcers, could disappear, but not a cop. “They also wanted a cut of what we pay to the Boss and wouldn’t listen when I tried to tell them it didn’t work like that.”

“What do you mean?” Bucky asked. "Doesn't work like what?"

Widow and KT shared a look. “He’s new,” he reminded her, and Widow smiled.

“Around here you don’t pay up, you buy in,” she said. “You’ll see.” She stepped away to take an order before Bucky could ask another question, so he turned back to KT.

“What are we going to do about the cops when they show up?” Bucky asked. Most times dirty cops got away with shaking down illegal businesses for money because it’s not like a bunch of criminals were going to rat them out to Internal Affairs. “Ask politely?”

“I have a few ideas,” KT said, sounding unconcerned. Bucky waited for him to say something else, but he apparently didn’t seem like sharing, so Bucky grunted and turned to scan the lounge.

While they’d been talking, a few more men, johns, Bucky assumed, had trickled in and were in conversation with the women, each of which were giving every indication that the man they were sitting next to was the funniest and most interesting man in the world. Guess that was one appeal of this place, Bucky thought; a man would never strike out here, and they probably spent good money to maintain the illusion that they were getting laid on their own merits. “Are all of the Boss's brothels like this?”

KT looked around like he was seeing the place for the first time. “Yeah,” he said, lifting one shoulder carelessly. “Boss invests in his people.”

Bucky supposed that made sense. Better margins in higher end prostitution. Still, it was strange to feel like he was hanging out in a hotel bar, complete with tipsy-looking couples disappearing into elevators to hook up. It was after 9 when the cops showed, still, stupidly enough, in uniform. Bucky suppressed the urge to curl his lip in disgust; these guys represented everything Bucky hated about his job, full of arrogance and spite and a thinly veiled hunger for violence. They were bullies, pure and simple, and Bucky hoped he would have a chance to punch one in the face. He could get away with it, too, if he told his superiors it was necessary to maintain his cover.

KT saw them the same time Bucky did; as they came closer to the bar, he slid off his barstool and put himself in their path.

“Who are you supposed to be?” The lead one sneered, looking down at KT, who was a good six inches shorter than the officer. “Are you supposed to be protecting these whores? You?”  Bucky came up behind him to back him up and read the officer’s badge. Rumlow. He memorized his badge number and that of the second officer, Rollins.

“Welcome back, officers,” KT said with a faint smile. “How can we help you?”

“Last time we asked nicely for our money, and we didn’t get it,” Rumlow said, coming closer so he was looming over KT. “We also asked for some trade, and didn’t get that either. We’re not going to ask nicely again.”

“Let me buy you a drink,” KT said, taking a step backward and gesturing towards the bar. “And let’s have a conversation, yeah?”

“We’re not here for no fucking conversation,” Rumlow spat. “We’re here for our money and a good lay, not necessarily in that order.”

“Fine.” KT’s friendly tone disappeared and his posture changed, going from relaxed and open to a coiled, snakelike tension, ready for violence. Bucky had seen that stance before, in his hand to hand combat training class at the academy. “We’ll cut to the chase.” Widow was watching them intently, a throwing knife already in her hand. Movement out of the corner of his eye proved that the man, Hawkeye, wasn’t as passed out as he appeared to be; Bucky could see light reflecting off the barrel of something, aimed at Rumlow. “For you to be coming in here like this, swinging your dick around, two things gotta be true: you must have protection, some fish big enough that you aren’t afraid of the Mechanic, and that big fish knows you’re here and doesn’t care. If that’s the case, then your boss and my boss are going to have problems. But if either of those things is not true, you are in a world of shit.”

At that, Rollins stole an uneasy glance at Rumlow, who was still trying to stare down KT. It was quick, but it gave the game away – and KT knew it, because suddenly he smiled and relaxed, which made Rumlow scowl harder. “Busted,” he said. “It’s not going to be hard to find out who your protection is, officers. And I don’t think they are going to be happy that you are picking fights with the Mechanic. Am I right?”

“Fuck you,” Rumlow snarled, and swung at KT. But the smaller man was ready, and KT stepped to one side of the swing, then grabbed Rumlow’s wrist and pulled at the same time that he put a hand on the back of his head and shoved, sending the man stumbling. Textbook judo move, to Bucky's eyes. As his partner got his feet under him again, Rollins went for his gun but Bucky already had his hand on it, shoving back down into its holster.

“Let’s keep it a fair fight,” Bucky said in a low voice, and Rollins listened because Bucky’s other hand had a knife slid up under the bottom edge of his bullet proof vest.

“Don’t make this any worse than it already is,” KT was saying, Rumlow’s face bright red with fury. “The Boss will let bygones be bygones if you leave now and don’t come back, but if blood gets shed...” He shook his head.

Rumlow’s face was red and Bucky could tell that he was furious at having been humiliated by someone smaller and lighter than him. Bucky was afraid that he would go for his pistol, but instead he put his hands up like he was in a boxing ring. KT smiled faintly and just made a “come here,” gesture, and that’s when Bucky knew he was trying to piss him off. And it worked; Rumlow lunged, swinging with a tight haymaker that would easily have broken KT’s jaw.

If it had connected, that is. But instead of trying to block, KT dropped to one knee, ducking under the swing, and hit Rumlow in the dick with an elbow as he scooped his leg and stood, throwing Rumlow to the ground where he curled around himself, cursing incoherently with pain.

Bucky whistled long and low, smothering a laugh. KT laid that asshole out in seconds. He released Rollins and said, “You can have your turn now, if you want.”

“That’s assault on an officer,” Rollins snarled, trying to help Rumlow to his feet. “I should haul you down to the station for that.”

“Your buddy clearly started it,” Bucky said. “It’s not like you don’t have witnesses. I’d get out of here before he does anything worse.” Bucky didn’t know if it was the fact that Rumlow still couldn’t stand up straight or the way that everyone was staring at them, but Rollins seemed to know good advice when he heard it, because they did leave, shouting threats the entire way.

“Did you get all that?” KT called out after the door slammed shut behind them, heading back to the bar where the Widow’s knife had disappeared like she’d never drawn it in the first place.

“Every second,” Hawkeye rumbled, sitting up. The barrel that Bucky had seen was a high-end camera lens, not a gun; he’d been videotaping the whole encounter. “Uploading it to YouTube now. That should get them off the streets for a while.”

“That’s how the Boss likes to settle things,” KT said with satisfaction. When he noticed Bucky looking at him with confusion, he said, “Listen here, because this is important: the Boss doesn’t like us to kill people. We don’t do this whole ‘send our guy to the hospital, we send your guy to the morgue’ thing, got it? We send them to the poorhouse. The poor bastard gets so tied up in lawsuits, repossessions, revoked passports, suspended licenses, and investigations that he wishes he were dead. Then the Boss goes after the poor bastard’s boss, and that boss’s boss…mobsters, dons, whatever you want to call them, they don’t mind dying, but they never, ever want to be broke. You start threating their bottom line and they pay attention.”

“Seriously?” Bucky said skeptically. Stark’s file said that he had plenty of blood on his hands.

“Seriously. You might get a pass if you don’t start it, but if it happens again, he cuts you loose, and believe me, it doesn’t take the cops long to track you down. They are hungry for anything they can get on the Boss.”

“You don't say,” Bucky said blandly. "So now what do we do?"

"We're going to stick around until the ladies close up shop, make sure those two don't get any bright ideas to circle back." KT pulled out his phone and started typing in it as he got back on his barstool where the ice in his drink had barely had time to melt. "Hawkeye usually makes sure the clientele behave themselves, so you can have a drink, but don't proposition any of the ladies while you're working."

"Right." What a strange goddamn way to run a criminal enterprise. After a moment, Bucky took a seat beside him and accepted a drink menu from the Widow, whose mouth was curling like she could read Bucky's thoughts. 

"You'll get used to it, Blue Eyes," she said. "I got a good feeling about you."

[milfbailorgana]

I posted it 

The urge to nest had been bothering Han for almost a week now. He knew, in the back of his head, that the urge meant he was in preheat, but he really wasn’t going to let himself hide in the Falcon for a week, pretending like he didn’t have things to do.

But the urge was overwhelming now. Han could feel it gnawing at the pit of his stomach, along with the beginnings of his heat; the feeling was a restless anxiety and restless urge to do something.

Huffing and getting up from where he was meant to be relaxing in the captain’s chair after fixing some faulty wiring in the Falcon’s cooling system, he walked down the corridor and pulled up the cover to one of the smuggling compartments with a grunt. It was empty, not having seen much use since he joined the rebellion. A little dusty but otherwise clean. Hidden. Safe.

Han dropped his pillow and blanket into the hole. If this is where Han’s hindbrain wanted him to spend his heat, who was Han to deny it. He’d come a long way from Corellia and Qi’ra and their singular bunk where anyone could walk in on her helping him through his heat, but it seemed his mind still hadn’t adjusted to the fact he was safe here. Well, as safe as one could be, in the rebellion.

Chewie was somewhere else on the base, which meant Han could raid his room. He wasn’t sure if it was unusual for an omega to want the scents of many different people around them, even non-humans, but his nests always felt the best when he could smell his family all around him. He grabbed Chewie’s blanket and pillow, standing for a minute to debate taking the fitted sheet but deciding against it. It was too much of a hassle and he had two new scents to add to his nest this heat, he would be fine without it.

He pressed his face into the pillow to take a deep inhale of Chewie’s scent, reveling in the familiar smell. Chewie smelled like motor oil and fur and something else that was distinctly Wookiee. It was what home had smelled like for the last ten years. Sighing, Han dropped Chewie’s things into the compartment and contemplated when he had last taken his birth control. It wasn’t yesterday, and certainly not the day before, but if he took two today, he’d be fine, right? It almost made Han long for his days in the imperial navy, where he was kept on heat suppressants, but he shuddered remembering how bad the heat afterward had been. Without Qi’ra he’d had to go to Lando, cramping and feeling slick drip down his thighs, hoping the man wouldn’t take advantage of him.

Grabbing Lando’s things was easy. He had never cleaned out his closet after Han took his ship and even though those clothes were almost ten years old by now, Lando liked to leave Han a shirt or cape whenever they spent time together. Whether Lando knew he brought them into his nest during heats or just left them around to mark his territory was unimportant; Han was grateful. Not that he’d ever tell Lando that. He grabbed the lilac cape that had been hung up in the closet a few months ago and pressed it to his nose, breathing in the scent of linen and something smoky that always followed Lando around before tossing it into the smuggling compartment.

Now, getting Luke and Leia’s scents in his nest would be more tricky. Neither of them stayed on the Falcon, and Han didn’t exactly know where they were staying, let alone their room codes. Plus, walking around the rebellion base smelling like he did was not Han’s idea of a good time.

His scent suppressants had gone missing over a tenday ago. Well— missing was relative. Chewie could probably find them if Han bothered to ask him to look, but his pride and the assurances he’d made to his hairy friend that ‘yes, I am going off my scent suppressors willingly, I think being drug free would be good for my system’ with his fingers crossed behind his back meant that wasn’t possible. Curse past him and his procrastination problem.

Comming Luke wouldn’t be a problem. Han was sure the beta would lend him a jacket or blanket or something if it would help Han through his heat, but the princess was a different story. She’d started giving him looks ever since he’d come off his scent suppressants and she had finally noticed he was an omega. If Han really thought about it, the looks might be about the fact he was in preheat and ignoring it, but it could just as easily be that as her thinking him less capable than another alpha or beta. Han wasn't very inclined to believe that someone who called Chewie a walking carpet on first introduction wasn’t probably a bigot in another way.

He rumbled in frustration— a noise he’d picked up from Chewie— stomping back to his room. He pulled out the stack of blankets Chewie had gotten him when they had first gotten the Falcon, just in case Han wanted to nest like a good omega should, rather than shacking up with a rando he’d picked up at a bar. If Han was honest with himself, he’d always preferred the heats he had on the Falcon. The familiar setting calmed something inside of him and Lando— the only alpha Han had ever let fuck him on the Falcon— was, admittedly, a good alpha. Too bad he was playing by the rules now. Not to mention, the last time they’d talked was... not pretty.

Han threw the blankets into the smuggling compartment and lowered himself inside after them. The compartment wasn’t exactly tall— the walls only came up to his armpits when he stood— but whatever his hindbrain wanted, Han was going to have to provide. Setting up a nest was never something Han had been particularly good at. His nests never looked pretty or elegant or clean, but he made them work. Arranging the blankets and pillows around the compartment in whatever order would appease his omega brain, Han contemplated what lay ahead. Usually in this situation, Han would be flying to a seedy bar on a seedy planet to for a seedy alpha to fuck him. Unfortunately, a snowstorm had come in the night before and was forecast to last at least a week and there was no way anyone was granting Han clearance to take off.

And the alternative: fucking someone on base. He’d considered it, of course he had, but it was completely off the table. Han had a policy: there was no way in hell he was going to fuck anyone he might have to talk with again later. It just led to knothead alphas feeling entitled to his body and Han wasn’t doing that again.

So here he was. Sitting in one of the Falcon’s smuggling compartments, getting ready to ride his heat out with nothing but toys. It certainly wasn’t any omega’s favorite way to spend a heat but it wasn’t like he hadn’t done it before. With the way he never tracked his heats and Chewie doing his best to make sure Han didn’t sleep with any shady people, Han had weathered multiple heats with just a knotting dildo and his fingers.

Flopping down once his nest was as complete as it was going to get for now, he pressed his face into the closest blanket. It was one of his designated nesting blankets so he couldn’t smell anything but Han assumed it probably smelled like him. He’d been told during a heat once that he smelled like delicate jogan fruits and honey, and since Han wasn’t exactly going to ask someone what he smelled like— nor had he ever actually smelled a jogan fruit— he supposed that was the best he was going to get.

Han climbed out of his nest and traipsed into his bedroom, where his compad and birth control were.

The birth control was easy. Han took three from the bottle and dry swallowed them. That should make up for his missed days, right?

The compad was harder. How was he supposed to write this message to Luke? ‘Hi, I’m horny and needy and I just need your jacket so I can sit next to it and feel safe whilst I get myself off’? It was stupid.

Han flopped on his bed and stared at the ceiling. He’d never had to do anything like this before. He’s never had a group of people he could almost call a pack. As much as being in the rebellion made him nervous (one of Jabba’s goons could pop up any time to take back what the Hutt was owed) the people here were some of the best Han had ever met. It wasn’t exactly a high bar, as a street rat turned imperial soldier turned smuggler, but the kindness he had been shown in his few months in the rebellion was nice, even if Han didn’t think it was deserved most of the time.

Han could feel the beginnings of heat gnawing at the pit of his stomach. Soon he would be slick and open and wanting. He didn’t have time to put this off.

He groaned and opened the device, finding Luke’s contact

H.Solo: hey kid

H.Solo: you know that jacket I lent you for the ceremony?

H.Solo: the yellow one?

H.Solo: I need it back for something

H.Solo: pretty urgently

It was seconds before he got a reply from Luke

L.Skywalker: of course!

L.Skywalker: I'm glad you messaged me now, I’m about to start combat practice with my squadron

L.Skywalker: Leia should be free, I’ll ask her to bring it to you

Kriff.

H.Solo: Kid

H.Solo: You don’t need to do that

H.Solo: I’ve got it under control, actually

But it seemed Luke had already started his training.

He really didn’t need that temptation around. Leia, who smelled like leather and something earthy that was unidentifiable to Han. He wasn’t sure there was any scent better than it. In his weaker moments Han could admit to wanting to press his face into her neck and drown in her smell, and this was certainly one of his weaker moments.

But as much as he wanted her, Han couldn’t let himself. Whenever he let an alpha with any power over him into one of his heats it always ended up with he and Chewie being blackmailed and Han having to do things he didn’t want to. Han would stick to fucking strangers he picked in bars, thank you very much, even if it dissapointed Chewie.

Han whined in the back of his throat and got up to pace. There was no way he could let Leia see him in this state.

Taking deep breaths to calm himself down— Leia didn’t need to be smelling a distressed omega along with one going into heat— Han left his room and walked back to the smuggling compartments, tugging the metal cover back over his nest.

Moving to the ‘fresher, Han took a moment to stare at himself in the mirror. His face was flushed and his hair was messy. He looked exactly how he felt: hot and out of control. It was a look Han wore a lot whilst working on the Falcon, though, so Han hoped he wouldn’t look too bad.

There was no way to disguise his scent, but Han hoped if he looked out together enough, Leia would assume he had a plan for his heat beyond fucking himself on a toy.

Alphas love to butt their heads in where they don’t belong, especially if they think it’s good for an omega, and the princess was definitely one of those righteous types.

Han froze from where he was trying to tidy up his hair when he heard the entrance ramp to the Falcon being lowered. Kriff. Either Chewie was back or Luke had given Leia the code for his ship. Either way Han wasn’t particularly enthused.

Straightening his shirt to make himself look as presentable as possible, he walked to the ramp, clearing his throat loudly. “Entering someone’s ship without knocking is rude, you know? I could’ve been naked”