#made a bad choice with permanent consequences

[cy-cyborg]

Disability Tropes: The Miracle Cure

The miracle cure is a trope with a pretty negative reputation in disability circles, especially online. It describes a scenario in which, a disabled character, through either magic, advanced technology, divine intervention or some combination of the three, has their disability cured throughout the course of the story. Sometimes this is literally, as in the disability is completely and entirely cured with no strings attached. Other times, it looks like giving an amputee character a prosthetic so advanced that it's basically the same as "the real thing" and that they never take off or have any issue with, or giving the character with a spinal injury an implant that bypasses the physical spine's break, or connects to an exoskeleton that allows them to walk again. Sometimes, it can even look like giving a character some kind of magic item or power that negates the effects of the disability, like what I talked about in my post about "the super-crip" trope. Either way though, the effect is the same: The disability is functionally cured and is no longer an "issue" the author or character has to worry about.

But why would this be a bad thing? In a world with magic or super-advanced tech, if you can cure a character's disability, why wouldn't you?

[ID: a screenshot of Roy mustang from Full metal alchemist Brotherhood, a white man with short black hair in a hospital gown. In the corner of the screen is the hand of another person holding a small red gemstone. /End ID]

Well there's a few reasons. First, lets talk about the purely writing related ones. If you've been around the writing or even media critique communities for a bit, you've likely heard people voicing their frustrations with tropes like "The fake-out death" where a character is either implied to have died, but comes back later, or is explicitly shown to be dead and then resurrected. Often when this happens in media, it leaves the audience feeling cheated and like a character's actions and choices don't really matter if even the worst mistakes and consequences can be undone. In the case of the latter situation, where they die and are brought back, it can make the stakes of the whole story feel a lot lower, since even something like death is shown to be reversible, so the audience doesn't really have to worry about anything bad happening to their favourite character, and once you've used this trope one time, people will constantly wonder why you wouldn't use it every time it comes up.

The same is true for "fixing" a character's disability. It sets a precedent that even things as big and life-changing as disability aren't permanent in this setting. We don't have to worry about anything major happening to the characters, there's no risks associated with their actions if it can all be undone, and it will lower the stakes of the story for your audience. Personally, I also feel like it's often used as a cop-out. Like writers wanted to include a major injury the leads to something big like disability for shock value, but weren't sure how to actually deal with it afterwards, so they just made it go away. Even in cases where the character start the story with a disability and are cured, this can still cause issues with your story's stakes, because again, once we've seen you do it once, we know its possible, so we won't feel the need to worry about anything being permanent.

Ok, so that's the purely writing related reasons, but what if that situation doesn't apply to the story you're writing? What if they're "fixed" right at the end, or the way they're cured is really rare, so it can't be used multiple times?

I'm glad you asked, because no, this is far from the only reason to avoid the trope! In my opinion, the more important reason to avoid it is because of how the a lot of the disabled community feels about the miracle cure trope, and the ideas about disability it can perpetuate if you're not very, very careful.

You might have noticed that throughout this post, I've put words like "cured" and "fixed" in quotes, and that's because not every disabled person wants a cure or feels like their ideal to strive for is able-bodied and neurotypical. For many of us, we have come to see our disabilities as part of us, as part of our identities and our sense of self, the same way I, as a queer person might see my queerness as a part of my identity. This is an especially common view among people who were born with their disability or who had them from a young age, since this is all they've ever really known, or who's disability impacts the way they think, perceive and process the world around them, how they communicate with people or in communities who have a long history of forced conformity and erasure such as the autism and deaf communities. Many disabilities have such massive impacts on our lives that we literally wouldn't be who we are today if they were taken away. So often though, when non-disabled people write disabled characters, they assume we'd all take a "cure" in a heart-beat. They assumed we all desire to be just like them again, and this simply isn't the case. Some people absolutely would, and there's nothing wrong with that, but it's not as universal as media representation makes it out to be.

Another reason it's so heavily disliked is because this trope is often used in conjunction with other ableist and harmful tropes or it's used in ways that perpetuate misinformation about living with a disability and it can have ableist implications, even if that's not what the author necessarily intended.

If the miracle cure is used right at the end of the story for example, as a way to give characters a happy ending it can imply that the only way for a disabled character to be happy in the long run, is for them to be "fixed", especially if they were miserable all the way up until that point. If it's used earlier in the story as a way to get said character back into the action, it can also be read as the author thinking that disabled people can't be of use to the plot, and so the only way to keep them around is to "fix" them.

Of course, there's also the fact that some authors and writers will also play up how bad being disabled is in order to show why a cure is justified, playing into the "sad disabled person" trope in the process, which is pretty much what it says on the tin. Don't get me wrong, this isn't to say that being disabled is all easy-breezy, there are never any hard days and you should never show your character struggling, not at all, the "sad disabled person" trope has it's place (even if I personally am not a fan on it), but when both the "sad disabled person" trope and the miracle cure trope are used together, it's not a great look.

This is especially bad when the very thing that cures the disability, or perhaps the quest the heroes need to go on to get it, is shown to be harmful to others or the disabled person themselves. Portraying living with a disability as something so bad that it justifies hurting others, putting others at risk, loosing yourself or killing yourself in order to achieve this cure perpetuates the already harmful idea that disability is a fate worse than death, and anything is justified to avoid it.

I've also noticed the reasons the authors and writers give for wanting to cure their characters are very frequently based on stereotypes, a lack of research in to the actual limits of a person's disability and a lack of understanding. One story I recall reading years ago made sure to tell you how miserable it's main character, a former cyclist, was because he'd been in a car accident where he'd lost his arm, and now couldn't ride bikes anymore, seemingly unaware of the fact arm amputees can, in fact, ride bikes. There are several whole sports centred around it, and even entire companies dedicated to making prosthetic hands specifically for riding bikes. but no, the only way for this to resolve and for him to be happy was to give him his arm back as a magical Christmas miracle! It would be one thing if the story had acknowledged that he'd tried cycling again but just had difficulties with it, or something was stopping him from being able to do it like not being able to wear the required prosthetic or something, but it really did seem as though the author was entirely unaware it was even possible, which is an issue when it's the whole point of your story existing. This happens a lot more often than you'd think, and it's very clear when an author hasn't even bothered to google search if their character would be able to do something before deciding the only solution is to take the disability away.

There's also the frustration that comes from being part of an underrepresented minority, finally seeing a character like you on screen or in a book, only for that representation to be taken away. Disabled people make up roughly 16% of the population (though many estimate these numbers are actually much higher), but only about 2.8% of American TV shows and 4.1% of Australian TV shows feature explicitly disabled characters. In 2019, around 2.3% of films featured disabled characters in a speaking roll, and while it's slowly getting better as time goes on, progress on that front is very slow, which is why its so frustrating when we do see characters like ourselves and so much of their stories focus on wishing to be, trying to become or actually being "cured".

An finally, there's the fact this is just a really common trope. Even if we ignore the issues it can cause with your story's tone and stakes, the harm it can do to the community when not handled with care, the negative perceptions it can perpetuate and everything else. It's just a plain-old overdone trope. It shows up so often that I, and a lot of disabled people, are just getting tired of seeing it. Despite everything I've said, there are valid reasons for people to not want to be disabled, and just like how I made sure to emphasise that not everyone wants a cure, it's important to recognise that not everyone would refuse it either. So long as it's not done in a way that implies it's universal, in theory, depicting someone who would want and accept a cure is totally fine. The issue is though that this trope is so common and so overdone that it's starting to feel like it's all we ever see, especially in genres like sci-fi and fantasy (and also Christmas movies for some reason).

[ID: A Gif of a white man in a top hat nodding his head with the caption "Merry Christmas" down the bottom. /end ID]

Personally, because it's so common, I find even the few examples of the trope used well frustrating, and I honestly feel that it's at the point where it should be avoided entirely where possible.

Ok but Cy, you mentioned there are ways to use this trope well, what are they?

So, like I said, I'm of the opinion that this trope is better off not being in your work at all, but if, for whatever reason, you can't avoid it, or it's use is really that important to the story you want to tell, there are less harmful ways to implement it.

Don't have your only disabled character take the cure

If you really must cure your disabled character's disability, don't make them the only disabled person in the story. Show us another character who, when offered the same cure, chooses not to take it. This at least helps push back a little against the assumption of "of course everyone would want this" that these kinds of stories often imply and doesn't contribute (as much) to disability erasure in the media.

Don't make it a total cure

In real life, there are cures for some disabilities, but they rarely leave no trace. For example, an amputee's limb can sometimes be reattached if it was severed and they received medical treatment fast enough, but it usually results in at least a little nerve damage and difficulties with muscle strength, blood flow or co-ordination in that limb. Often times, these "cures" will fix one issue, but create another. You might not be an amputee anymore, but you're still disabled, just in a different way. You can reflect this in your fictional cures to avoid it feeling like you just wanted to avoid doing the work to write good disabled representation.

Do something interesting with it

I got a comment on my old tumblr or possibly Tik Tok account ages ago talking about their planned use for the miracle cure trope, where their character accepts the cure at the cost of the things that made her life enjoyable post-disability. Prior to accepting the cure, she had found other ways to be independent to some extent and her community and friends helped her bridge the gaps, but they were all taken from her when she was "cured" forcing her into isolation. Kind of like a "be careful what you wish for" sort of thing. The story was meant to be a critique on how society ignores alternative ways of getting the same result and how conforming to other people's ideas of "normal" isn't always what you need to bring you happiness. This was a genuinely interesting way to use the trope I think, and it's a perfect example of taking this trope and twisting it to make an interesting point. If you must use a trope like this, at least use it to say something other than "disability makes me sad so I don't want to think about it too much". Alternatively, on a less serious note, I'm also not entirely opposed to the miracle cure being used for comedy if it fits the tone. The Orville has some issues with it's use of the Miracle Cure trope, but I'd be lying if I said Isaac amputating Gordan's leg as a prank, knowing it could be reversed in a few hours did get a chuckle out of me.

If your villain's motivation is finding a cure for themselves, don't use it as justification for hurting people

Disabled villains need a post all their own honestly, but when a villain's motivation for doing all the terrible things they do is so they don't have to be disabled anymore, it's especially frustrating. Doubly so if the writer's are implying that they're justified in their actions, or at least that their actions are understandable because "who would want to live like that?" Honestly, as a general rule of thumb, avoid making your villains disabled if you aren't disabled yourself (especially if they're your only disabled character), but if they are disabled, don't use the disability as a justification for them hurting people while finding a cure.

So are there any examples currently out there to look at where the trope is used, if not well, at least tolerably?

Yeah, I'd say so, but they're few and far between. Two examples come to mind for me though.

The Dragon Prince:

[ID: A Gif of Ava the Wolf from the Dragon Prince, a light brown, fluffy wolf who is missing her front right leg. /End ID]

The Dragon Prince on Netflix uses the miracle cure twice, but I still really enjoyed the show (at least I did, up until my Netflix subscription ran out, so I've only seen up to season 4). The first time the trope is used in the series, it's actually a fake-out. Two of the main characters, while looking for someone to help them heal the dragon egg they're carrying, encounter a young girl named Ellis and her pet wolf Ava. The two explain their egg is not looking good and they need to find someone to help it, but no one they've found had the knowledge or ability to do anything to help. Ellis says she knows a healer who can help them, and tells them that this healer even restored Ava's amputated leg when she was a pup. When we actually reach this "miracle healer" however, she is revealed to be simply an illusionist. She explains that Ava is still missing her leg, she simply made it look as though she had restored it because Ellis's parents were planning to throw the puppy out, believing it would not survive with its disability and would only be a drain on supplies. This was not actually true and Ava adapted to her amputation very well, she simply needed more time, and hiding her disability and making her appear abled gave her the time she needed to fully recover and adjust. When they return to the healer with the main characters, she removes the illusion and explains why she did it, emphasising that the real problem was never with Ava, but with how people made assumptions about her.

While I do feel it was drawn out a bit too long, I do appreciate the use of the trope as the set up to an overall positive twist. Disability does come with down-sides, it's part of the deal and it would have been nice to see a bit more of that, but for disabilities like amputation in particular, the worst of our problems often come from a lack of adequate support and people's pre-conceived ideas about us, and it was nice to see this reflected, even if it is a little overly simplified.

The second time this trope comes up in the series is when one of the antagonists, Soren, is injured during a fight with a dragon, becoming paralysed from the neck down. His sister, Claudia is absolutely beside herself, believing it was her fault this even happened in the first place, but Soren actually takes his new disability very, very well, explaining that he understands there are things he can't do now, but that there's a lot of things he can still try, that his previous job as a soldier just didn't allow time for. It's possible this reaction was him being in denial but it came across to me as genuine acceptance. He is adamant that he doesn't want a cure right from the beginning because he knows that a cure would come at a cost that he doesn't want his sister to pay, and that he is content and happy with this new direction his life will be going in. Claudia, however, is not content. It had been shown that she was already using dark magic, but this event is what starts her down the path of using it in earnest, disregarding the harm it will cause to those around her. She ignores Soren's wishes, kills several animals in order to fuel the healing spell that will "fix" him, and Soren is pretty clearly shown to be horrified by her actions. What I like about this use of the miracle cure trope is that it touches on something I've seen happen a lot to disabled people in real-life, but that rarely shows up in media - the fact that just because we accept ourselves, our disabilities and our new limits, doesn't mean our friends and family will, unfortunately. In my own life, my mum and dad were always accepting of my disability when I was younger, but as I got older and my support needs changed, my body took longer to heal and I stopped being able to do a lot of things I could when I was little, they had a very hard time coming to terms with it and accepting it. I'm not alone in this either, a lot of disabled people end up cutting contact with friends and family members who refuse to accept the reality of our situations and insist "if we just try harder maybe we won't be so disabled" or "Maybe you will get better if you just do [xyz]". Unfortunately however, some disable people's wishes are ignored completely, like Soren's were. You see this a lot in autistic children who's parents are so desperate to find a cure that they hurt their kids through toxic and dangerous "treatments" or by putting them through abusive therapies that do more harm than good. Claudia has good intentions, but her complete disregard for Soren's decision still harm them both in the long run, leading to the deterioration of their relationship and causing her to spiral down a very dark path.

Full Metal Alchemist: Brotherhood

[ID: A Gif of Ed from full metal alchemist, a white boy with blond hair, staring angrily at a jar of milk on the table. His brother Al, a sentiant suit of armour, is in the background looking directly at the camera. The caption, spoken by Ed, says "So we meet again you little bastard" /end ID.]

The show does begin with Ed and Al looking for a way to cure their disabilities (which they gave themselves when trying to resurrect their mother as children went horribly wrong). However, when the boys discover that the object needed to do that - a philosopher's stone, can only by made through absolutely abhorrent and despicable means, and using one, likewise, comes at the cost of potentially hundreds or thousands of people's souls, they immediately stop, and shift their focus on finding the stones that had already been made so it can't fall into the wrong hands, and preventing the creation of new ones. The core theme of the show is that everything has a cost, and sometimes the cost is simply too great.

However, right at the end of the show, several characters are healed in a variety of ways. Ed gives up his ability to do alchemy to get his brother's body back, as well as his arm so he can save his friends in the final battle, but neither of the boys come away from this completely "healed". Al's body has not been used since he was a child, and so it is shown he has experienced severe muscular atrophy that will take a long time and a lot of work to recover from, acknowledging that he has a pretty tough road ahead of him. When we see him in the epilogue, he is still on crutches despite this being several months after getting his body back. Likewise Ed is not fully healed, and is still missing one of his legs even if he got his arm back.

The more... interesting use of the trope, however, is in the form of Colonel Mustang who was blinded in the final season. Mustang is shown to take to his blindness pretty well given the circumstances, finding a variety of ways to continue doing his job and reaching his goals. When other characters offer to let him use the philosopher's stone to heal himself however, he takes it, acknowledging that this is a horrible thing to do and that Ed and Al would be extremely disappointed in him if they ever found out. He uses it both to cure his own disability, and to cure another character who was injured earlier in the show. While I'll admit, I did not like this ending, I can at least appreciate that the show made sure to emphasis that a) Mustang was doing fine without the cure, and b) that this was not morally justified. The show spent a very long time drilling into the viewer how morally reprehensible using the stone was, and it didn't try to make an exception for Mustang - you weren't supposed to like that he did that.

When I talk about these tropes, I do try to give them a fair chance and discuss the ways it can potentially work, but I really do want to reiterate that this particular trope really is best avoided. There are ways to make it work, but they will still leave a bad taste in many of your viewer's or reader's mouths and you have to be exceptionally careful with your wording and framing, not just in the scenes where this trope is used, but in the lead up. If you really must use it, I highly recommend getting a few disability sensitivity readers and/or consultants (yes, even if you are disabled yourself) to help you avoid some of the often overlooked pitfalls.

#writing disability With Cy Cyborg #very long post #I could have sworn I talked about this trope already but I couldn't find the post. Apparently I had a lot more to say anyway lol #long post #disability #Disabled #Disability representation #Physical Disability #disability Tropes #Writing #Writeblr #Authors #Disabled Rep #Writing Advice #writing Tips #Disabled Characters #writing disability

[female-malice]

Did you know that estrogen weakens the muscles and makes them exactly like a cis woman's? Did you know trans men on T are put in women's leagues still, when the T causes muscles to grow?

As a trans man, educate yourself.

Did you know that estrogen weakens the muscles and makes them exactly like a cis woman's?

When you say "estrogen weakens muscles and makes them exactly like a cis woman" you are regurgitating extreme misogyny. Women are not weakened men. We are not made out of Adam's rib.

When males take estrogen, that does not weaken male muscle mass. Trans-identified males take other medications to suppress testosterone. That has nothing to do with estrogen. Estrogen does not suppress muscle growth at all.

You are thinking like a misogynist. You think estrogen=women and women=weak so estrogen weakens muscles. That's anti-scientific. You understand that right? That's just bigotry. Stop thinking like a misogynist. Stop thinking testosterone=good and estrogen=bad. Take some time to learn about how natural female hormones strengthen and fortify the female body. Educate yourself.

Did you know trans men on T are put in women's leagues still, when the T causes muscles to grow?

There are zero female athletes on testosterone competing in professional women's sports. Testosterone is a banned substance. Gaining an unfair advantage through testosterone doping results in a lifetime ban from professional competition.

Athletes who use cough medicine and heart medication to manipulate their stamina and recovery do not receive lifetime bans. They receive temporary bans because the effects of their doping are temporary.

Testosterone is a lifetime ban because the long-term effects of testosterone are permanent. These decisions by WADA are backed up by thousands and thousands of studies. The science is indisputable. Athletes who engage in testosterone doping permanently exclude themselves from sports. And artificially suppressing testosterone in male athletes does not negate the effects of male puberty.

Women's sports competition is for female athletes regardless of how they identify. Men's sports competition is for male athletes regardless of how they identify. Open sports competition is for everybody regardless of how they identify. Everyone is included as long as they're not doping.

Testosterone suppression might temporarily cause a male athlete to lose their competitive edge against other male athletes. However, it is not female athlete's responsibility to include male athletes who lose their competitive edge. A female athlete is not a male athlete that takes testosterone suppressing medication. A female athlete is a female athlete. Taking medications and cross-sex hormones does not turn males into females. And it does not turn females into males.

Tinkering with your body and hormones is a voluntary activity. When you make a choice, you live with the consequences.

Many people interested in body building use banned substances to change their body. They do this knowing it will bar them from competing in sports. They're okay with this. They don't go around protesting. They don't go around clamoring for inclusion in sports. They make their choice to exclude themselves from fair sports competition and they're fine with it.

Your body modifications are your own choice. Your body modifications are your own responsibility. When those modifications ban you from competitive sports or dull your competitive edge, that's your consequence to deal with.

[masterqwertster]

A difference between Ashton absorbing the Spark and Fearne absorbing the Spark that I haven't seen discussed is that Fearne had the ability to ripcord out until the end of the 6th round/start of the 7th round while Ashton only had to the end of the 1st round.

Now by "ripcord out," I mean they could have halted the absorption process by either removing the Quintessence Array or potentially pulling the Spark out of the Array's funnel. Essentially, the Spark's crystal vessel had to still exist and be a separate receptacle, much like how the Quintessence Array cannot fully transfer a creature's magical essence without proper absorption time.

For Ashton, the Spark's crystal crumpled to nothing by the end of the first round via CON Saves (Ashton's early rounds were weird in that Matt rolled multiple damages against him instead of just one, especially the second CON Save round). All they had were those initial moments where it didn't seem impossible, didn't seem like anything they couldn't handle, to back out. 36 Damage and unaware they had to go for 9 more rounds where one pulse of Damage could do up to 60 Damage.

Fearne, on the other hand, besides having a much gentler time of it with zero CON Saves and able to use her own magic to help keep herself up from lower Damage rolls, had until the end of the sixth round or the start of the seventh round before the second Spark crystal finished crumpling into nothing. She had time to assess if it would be too much for her to finish, time to say "No, this was a bad idea. I don't want it."

I'm sure part of that difference is Ashton jumped in on a bad idea and was being forced to deal with the Consequences while Fearne's was a much more measured decision and the "safe" route. You know, game mechanics and penalties.

But consider it narratively.

The way I read it, one of two things happened: Ashton's body is so attuned/ready to be a vessel of great powers that it just slorped the Spark right up, no hesitation. Or, Rau'shan was so eager to move in with his old partner, that he jumped right in (and later backed out because it was too crowded to be tenable). And honestly? Both have interesting implications.

If Ashton is just a higher power absorbing machine, that can mean some interesting things for how he ended up with the Shard of Ka'Mort. Like that the Hishari ritual wasn't meant to bestow the Shard to anyone, but through whatever fuck up happened, Ashton chomped it up. Or that it was about bestowing, but Ashton was such a better vessel that it fucked up the ritual. And the Potion of Possibility giving them a half-beacon brain just happened. There's no explanation as to why it didn't just give him a Mote of Possibility to essentially reroll a Death Save into stabilizing himself rather than die, which makes sense with what the Potion does. Instead it made Ashton a permanent well of dunamis. Maybe that happened because Ashton is titan-blooded. Maybe it's because they are uniquely suited to being a vessel of great powers, that they possess a body hungry to hold more power.

On the other hand, if Rau'shan wanted in to reunite with Ka'Mort with all haste, that makes Ashton his first choice of vessel. Then Rau'shan backed out because three's a crowd and a quality vessel does no one any good if it breaks trying to use that power (because Ashton did manage to contain it all). And maybe he goes a little slower when a second vessel attempts to hold his Spark, just to make sure she's not going to blow up on him.

Or even Fearne just doesn't have the same draw for the Spark as Ashton, so it crumbled at the rate the Quintessence Array drained it at instead of being sucked straight through to it's new home.

I'm just saying, it's a very interesting difference that didn't need to exist to show how much easier absorbing the Spark is for not-Ashton.

#MQ blathers #critical role #cr meta #c3e77 #c3e80 #ashton greymoore #fearne calloway

[purpleyoonn]

red string 2

“our connection is determined by a tiny invisible string”

summary: you figured it was too late for your string to solidify, used to the idea of finding someone on your own, who also never got their string. However, your string began to tug when you least expected it, to the last person or people you would have ever thought.

genre: soulmate au, red string of fate au, poly au,

pairing: BTS (Yoongi centered) x Reader

status: ongoing (random updates)

warnings: slight yandere themes, insecure reader, alcohol, talks of jealousy, soul bonds, mentions of past abuse,

chapter warnings: soul pain, first meetings, running away, mc didn’t really want a bond, cinderella-esque plot line, mc is cynical, allusions to past abusive relationship, bad flashbacks, kind-of kidnapping but not really??, soul tug, mc has ptsd, 

I am not going to have a taglist for this fic. I will only be using the permanent taglist as its intended for all of my fics.

permanent taglist: @m1sss1mp​ @yourleftsock​ @skyys-universe​ @cryingpages​ @strxwbloody​  @drissteele​ @dustyinkpages​ @iamkookiesforyou​ @crushedblackroses​ @fluffy-canada-pancakes​ @blaaiissee​  @iiitsmaria​  @carolinexkpop​  @azazel-nyx​ @strawberry-moonpies​ @g-h-o-s-t-b-a-b-i​ @knjkitten​ @foreverweareyoung7​ @lachimolala22019​ @namuficxs​ @94z-93​ @kimgmzmc​ @thenaverse​ @dahliasbouqet​ @black-rose-29​ @tinyoonsblog​ @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d​ @stellauniverse​ @stupendouscookiehumanmug​ @tinyoonsblog​ @veronawrites​ @tatyhend​ @singukieee​ @m0v3m3ntsblog​ @exfolitae​ @butterymin​ @queen-in-the-shadows​ @anaspectoflife @welcometomyworld13 @slinekyu @ghostlyworld@svnbangtansworld @loisje123 @i-have-no-life-charlie @danielle143 @jcrml@softieyn @kyuupidwrites @friedlollipop @lulu-83​ @tokiodori​

masterlist // part 1 // part 3

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Previously on Red String:

“If Mr. Min saw you carrying her, you would need the medical room.” The guard’s words were blunt, but a little worrying.

“Mr. Min? You don’t mean…” Hong visibly paled as he looked down at you, his mind making the connection you didn’t want to say. His grip loosens as Hyunsoo takes you from his arms.

“I don’t need to remind you of the NDA you signed, do I, Hongmin?” The man who found you shook his head quickly, before looking down at you once more and walking away. You could almost see his body shaking as he did so.

Still unable to move your neck, you grumble into the guard’s chest.

“So, how’s it goin?” You ask, your brain’s defense system seeing sarcasm as its only choice.

The guard assigned to you was immensely stoic; silent in a way you couldn’t even crack a smile out of the man as you grumbled to yourself.

“You know, this was not how I wanted to spend my birthday. I imagined, well, hoped for, a nice drink and take out with a crappy movie I could laugh mindlessly to. Not having fate move against me and trap me against the bathroom door.”  The guard just kept walking, sometimes stopping to adjust you in his arms as your body arguably continued to let gravity do its job, more or less against your will but who were you to fight against fate when it went with your own wishes.

“So, where are we goin?” You asked him, trying to get the man to crack, but he just continued to ignore you. You weren’t going to give up though.

You could vaguely hear the music playing, the concert still happening as you were being brought to your doom. You wondered where the man was taking you, only slightly correct in the idea that you would be brought to a waiting room of some sort. However, you realized you were wrong when you were brought to a very nice room, three big couches taking up the left of the room while a couple of tables and vanities took up the other half.

The guard, and consequently you, only made it a couple of steps in before the door was being opened again. Well, more like the door was slammed open, almost flying off its hinges as the man you were trying to run from pushed his way into the room. You would have laughed at the growl coming from Yoongi’s lips if it wasn’t aimed in your direction, and a shiver raced up your spine. You were practically shaking in the guard’s arms!

Yoongi was surely gone, Agust D taking his place as the dark look in his eyes takes in your figure, resting in the arms of the guard he had assigned to watch you. He couldn’t explain the rage he felt when he saw you in the arms of someone else; someone who wasn’t him! You were his bond, his red string! He could feel the growing possessiveness he held for you, his instincts screaming at him.

“Sirs, I—” The guard tried to explain but began to stutter after being pinned with six other glares that accompanied Yoongi’s; looks that radiated anger and power looked at him, and only then did the guard realize what he was doing wrong. He didn’t understand why the guard was holding you when he said not to touch you.

Yoongi just held his hand up, stopping the man from continuing his apologies, and stepped forward, arms reaching to take you from him. You only grunted, not exactly wanting to be in Yoongi’s arms but unfortunately, the stupid soul tug was still in effect. You couldn’t fight against the idol who now tightened his embrace around you and cradled you to his chest like a lost kitten. Like he expected you to jump from his arms any second and run.

Well, he wouldn’t be wrong.

It’s not like I could make it far anyways. You answered the stupid voice in your head.

You ignored the warmth building in your veins, ignoring the way Yoongi’s touch had your body unwillingly relaxing into his arms as you tried to move your head to see where your strings led.

You had almost forgotten about your fourth string, now split into four other pieces, each leading to the members you had yet to meet. You had seven total strings and each one led to one of the boys.

Man, Lindsey was right.

Let’s not tell her that, though. You internally cringed, knowing exactly how your best friend would react. The words “I told you so” would not be the last thing leaving her mouth, unfortunately. She would never let you live this moment down. Ever.

You couldn’t hear anything Namjoon was saying to the guard who brought you here, only seeing the dragon eyes aimed at the shorter man, and the way the guard was nodding every couple seconds. Within a minute the guard had all but ran out of the door, Namjoon turning to you with a smirk on his lips.

You were about to make some remark to the taller man smirking at you but your breath whooshed out instead when Yoongi turned you around and sat down with you still in his arms. He adjusted you so your head was resting back against his shoulder and you were facing the room, feeling entirely too exposed.

“You’re not very good at running, are you?” Yoongi murmured into your ear, causing that stupid, heated blush to creep up your neck and ears. You could practically feel the damn smirk creeping on his lips.

“You knew I’d be here.” You stated, now having put everything together. They were responsible for your and Lindsey’s seat changes and for the guards keeping an eye on you., making you feel watched and panicked.

“We did say we wanted to speak with you in private…” You turn your head to see Taehyung and Jimin seated on a smaller loveseat to your right. Taehyung had a neutral expression but you could see in his eyes something different, while Jimin was just hopeful, watching your own facial expressions carefully.

You look down at Taehyung’s words, feeling the pain of rejection and hurt all over again. You didn’t think you wanted to have a conversation that would lead to where you thought it was going to, so you wanted to avoid it all together.

It seemed Yoongi could tell where your thoughts were going, moving his arm from around your waist to slowly trail his fingers up your arm and to your wrist, turning your left hand over connecting his palm with yours, intertwining his fingers with yours causing the thick, dark red string connecting you to glow for a couple of seconds before returning to normal. The bond snapping back into place after being incomplete from your first meeting.

The first stage of the bond, the soul tug, was meant to ensure that the bond was being completed. This meant you now couldn’t go be more than a few feet from any of the boys once you had physical contact. By you running, and now Yoongi holding you, the first stage had begun.

You try to leave his grip, feeling the tingling and numbness in your toes starting to disappear, but unfortunately, the rest of your body was not so lucky. When Yoongi noticed your attempts, he smiled smugly, taking advantage of the fact that you couldn’t move or leave him by holding you tighter against him.

“Do you not feel the tug? Do you not feel the way your body relaxes against Yoongi’s touch, even against your own subconscious?” Namjoon’s questions have you tensing again, not wanting to answer his question, instead you stare at your bonds, noticing the tugging sensation and the ripples in color whenever one of them moves.

“Do you not feel the bond you so obviously share with us, the one you continue to fight against?” Namjoon continues, frowning as Yoongi leans back to rest against the back of the couch, your body unhappily following along. Your cheeks grow hot again, your body working against you and showing the way you feel about the answers to his questions, completely giving you away to the intelligent leader.

“Ignoring the feelings you have for the bond; it does not ignore the fact that we are soulmates. Your strings are connected to ours. You are ours whether you like it or not. We aren’t going to let you go and we aren’t going to just let you walk out of here without us by your side.” You open your mouth in shock at the leader’s words, wondering where in the hell he got is audacity from?! The rest of the boys were nodding their heads in agreement, as if they had already discussed this.

Which they probably did, the little voice in your head tells you.

You ignore the voice and you ignore the butterflies in your stomach at Namjoon’s claim. You hadn’t realized how much you would love the idea of being claimed until it was staring you in the face, with a little tilt of the head and a raise of the eyebrow.

Before you could argue against his words, you could feel your phone in your back pocket vibrating. You sighed out in relief and hoped you could use this as an excuse to leave.

Lindsey you are a life saver! You praised your best friend in your head, only to start cursing as you felt Yoongi reaching for your phone, his hand resting just a little too long against the curve of your ass before taking your phone out of your pocket.

“Give me—" You’re cut off but Yoongi pressing the answer button and pressing your phone to his own ear.

“Where the hell are you dude? You disappeared and missed the entire concert! I’ve been looking for you everywhere and trying to think nice thoughts while one of those guards from earlier follows me around!”

“I’m sorry about that. You must be Lindsey?” Yoongi’s voice was soft, like velvet as he spoke to your friend. You were in shock at the change in his voice, from sultry to being as sweet and innocent as can be.

“Who is this and why do you have my best friend’s phone?”

“This is—”

“Is this Yoongi? Oh my god! Uhm, you know what, never mind. Just make sure she goes to bed on time. She gets cranky in the mornings.” Yoongi wasn’t even able to get a couple words out before Lindsey recognized his voice.

Hmm. It seems our little soulmate told her friend about us. And she approves. Yoongi hummed to himself as Lindsey hung up the phone after promising she would give your things to the guard following her, assuming that he was working with the boys and she was right.

“Well, it seems as though your friend is just fine with you coming home with us.” Yoongi’s smile brightened as he watched the others faces light up, Jungkook was especially excited as he knew you were his age. He hoped you liked to cuddle, seeing as the others never liked to stay in bed as long as he did.

“What… I…uh?” You stammered, brain moving too slow as you tried to come up with a way out if this, forgetting the fact you still couldn’t move.

You hear a slap and see Jungkook bouncing in his seat, clearly excited for you to come home with them. He was slapping his thighs and talking animatedly to Jin about all of the things he planned to do with you. You would have been completely endeared by his plan to play video games with you if you weren’t internally freaking out.

“I can’t go with you!” You blurted out, cringing a little at how loud you were.

“Why not?” Hoseok inquired; eyebrow raised as he watched you come up with an excuse.

“I, uhm, don’t have any clothes.” You replied, a little proud of your quick answer only for your smile to shatter at Jimin’s words.

“We can give you some!” You paled at his own excitement, not wanting to crush his plainly obvious feelings of hope. Strike one.

“I don’t have any of my things.” Someone knocked on the door, Jin moving around to reveal a man holding onto your bag making you rest your head back against Yoongi’s shoulder, trying to think.

“Look, your bag is right here.” Strike two.

“You guys must be really busy. I don’t want to bother you or anything…” Your last hope to weasel your way out of the situation was destroyed by Taehyung, his smile wide as he counters your words.

“Actually, we planned for you to come with us anyways. We have the next couple of weeks free. You know, we don’t want the soul pain to start.” Taehyung has his own moment of satisfaction as he sees your face pale at his words, knowing all of your plans to leave were thwarted by him. 

Fuck, you cursed.

How in the world did you forget about the soul pain period?

It’s not my fault! I forget a lot of things.

Well, now you can’t be more than a couple feet from them without immense pain. Good job.

You had completely forgotten that when a bonded person meets their soulmate or soul group, completely, for the first time, the string snaps together, leaving each person with only a few feet of leeway to move away. It could last for several days or weeks, depending on the bond and how many people are connected. With your luck and how the universe seems to be against you, you guessed it would be months before you were able to leave.

Strike three and you’re out.

-*-*-

You pouted the entire way to the boy’s home, unable to move even an inch from Yoongi’s arms without the slight pain tugging at your chest making you groan out and want to gouge your heart out. How dare your body do this to you?

The boys, on the other hand, were all making bets on how long you would try to fight them. They could tell this was just some sort of defense mechanism and were all building their own individual plans to make you theirs. They knew it was only a matter of time before you were seeking them out.

“Welcome home, baby.” Jin smiled down at you as he unlocked the door. It made your insides tingle and made your head hurt all at the same time. For a second you couldn’t remember why you were fighting against this, everything becoming jumbled together in your head. You couldn’t remember the fear you felt for the bond, the trauma from your last relationship almost disappearing from your mind as Jin smiled at you.

Your thoughts were forgotten when Namjoon placed his hand on your back, helping you inside, through the living room and down the hallway until you appeared at the entry of a room with a very large, wall to wall bed. It looked like the comfiest cloud of softness you had ever seen.

You were practically melting at the idea of being able to lay in the soft warmth you could only imagine you would feel.

“Why don’t you get changed, baby.” Jungkook couldn’t help but smirk at your face, the way it changed from adoration to a deadpan as you looked up at him.

“I’m not changing in front of you.”

“Baby, I can almost guarantee you’re going to want to strip in front of me eventually…if it’s not me undressing you.” Jungkook retorted, smirk growing into a devilish grin as your eyes narrowed.

“You wish I would undress for you.” You snap back, trying to take a step back only for the tug to bring you closer than before. This makes Jungkook’s grin widen.

“Baby, it’s not a wish.” Jungkook pushes further, an inch away from being able to steal a kiss from your lips, and boy was he tempted!

Until he noticed the fear behind your eyes, causing him to step back and turn around. He was mortified! You had thought he was going to force himself on you?! He needed to talk to the others, but how were they going to do that when the soul tug was active?

When you were finished changing into the oversized shirt and shorts, you timidly tapped on Jungkook’s shoulder.

“I’m uh, I’m changed now.” Your entire demeanor had shifted, flashback after flashback trying to steal your vision as you forced yourself not to shake. You were scrappy, you knew that, but only to defend your own mind from what it saw as a threat. 

You could not put yourself in a position to be vulnerable again. (But you also didn’t want to let on that anything was wrong. You couldn’t have that conversation. Not right now, hopefully not ever.)

“I’m sorry if I pushed you. I was only teasing.” Jungkook tried to apologize, his hand reaching out to grasp onto your arm but you flinched away from him, the soul tug allowing you a few feet leeway.

“It’s uh, it’s okay.” You rushed out, trying to end the conversation before you could imagine where it would go. But Jungkook was observant, and he could practically feel the pain in your heart. Something happened. Something that had you flinching away and fighting a soul bond.

And he had a bad feeling about it.

#bts #bts au #yoongi centered #bts soulmate #bts soulmate au #red string #red string yoongi #red string of fate au #bts polyamory #bts poly #bts poly au #bts poly!au #bts poly! #min yoongi #fluff #angst #bts slight yandere #slight yandere #protective bts #possessive bts #purpleyoonn

[ladyloveandjustice]

I was thinking about the death note musical and how it just had such a simple and smart adaptation ending...like it’s pretty well agreed that the second half of Death Note is weaker, so the fact they have Ryuk just kill Light because he knows it will be boring now that L’s gone is pretty funny from a meta perspective, but also fits in pretty well with Ryuk’s general ‘only after something entertaining’ idea.. But I think it was especially clever the fact they set it up so it seemed like it was Light killing Rem that crossed the line for Ryuk.The play has them hanging out in the Shinigami world and discussing how dumb humans are and Ryuk shows actual concern when Rem sacrifices herself and tries to talk her out of it. It seems like he thought of her as a friend, and mildly cared about her, so this pissed him off, and fact Light would kill a death god also sends off alarm bells, so this kid isn’t worth it anymore. Light was very much hoist by his own petard still, thinking he could just kill off a god and not get any consequences. His lack of compassion mean he never considered Ryuk might have feelings about it.

It doesn’t change anything fundamental about Ryuk or what he represents in the manga- he’s still uncaring towards humans, still after a good time, still a neutral temptation, he just has depth.

But mostly I like it as a change because it means someone actually gives a shit about Rem, whereas in the manga she dies alone and unmourned, and in the long run only bought Misa a couple extra years. Here, someone cares, and her death matters beyond being a device for Light to win. Here, she actually succeeds in protecting Misa permanently (since in the musical, Light dies before Misa regains her memories, so she’s fine, actually.) The musical is more explicit about Rem’s feelings for Misa being romantic (and treats them with a LOT more weight that the original did), so Light actually getting direct comeuppance for laughing at her feelings for Misa and exploiting them leaves less of a bad taste too.

And the original mangaka would have never made that choice though because it would meant empathizing with and caring about a female character and her feelings for another woman. So you know. Adaptations can be good.

#death note #why did I starting thinking about this musical again I don't know

[lovelybrooke]

yay for the hades fandom getting hyped up! your self-aware concept for this game is genuinely fantastic, i can't get enough of it. i really can't think of sufficient praise, you characterize everybody so well, it meshes wonderfully with canon.

how about a scenario for zagreus (+ other characters of your choice) reacting to the player/reader coming back after a long period of inactivity? or how they felt during said absence?

(totally not inspired by me not touching the game for almost a year until this recent technical test came out, hahah)

This is just a quick overview of the House of Hades members and the Olympians, not the side characters. If you want me to cover them I will in another post.

masterlist

---

The members of the House of Hades are the most worried when it comes to your inactivity, mainly because it affects Zagreus. Escape attempts don't stop just because you're not there, but it's obvious that he's a mess. He is short with people, more aggressive, and is getting himself killed more and more. Most of the occupants don't say anything, mainly out of fear for what the prince might do. But others, like Achilles, are more willing to point out his poor behavior. It's like he's a child who's lost his favorite toy. Achilles of course, also senses your absence, but he chooses to remain hopeful. This isn't the first time this has happened, you tend to come and go as you please, but you eventually come back. He can't help but worry though, maybe something has happened to you, maybe your absence is more permanent this time. He chooses not to think about that too often. Others like Nyx and Hades are more neutral about your absence, they are like Achilles in the sense that they try not to think about it too much, but in reality it's more complicated then they'd like to admit. They are both ancient beings, and it's worrying to see someone worm their way into their consciousness so easily. Love isn't the correct word, they can't exactly explain how they feel, but your absence has made them think more and more about what you mean to them, and it grows deeper and deeper every single day. Thanatos and Hypnos are more observant than others would think. They both sense the change in Zagreus pretty early on and are able to trace it back to the lingering presence of you. They learned early on that you were mysterious, your presence almost distant in a way. It was hard for them to feel you in the way Zagreus did, so when you left they didn't notice at first. It wasn't until the prince started acting up that they realized something must've changed. Hypnos attempts to distract Zag from everything through jokes and teasing, while Thanatos tends to be more blunt, demanding that Zag fix his attitude, however, while doing this, they're both struggling with lingering thought of you, wondering where you went and how you're faring . Others like Meg and Dusa are even affected by it, Meg especially. She's often more subjected to Zagreus's bad moods than others, since he becomes more brutal in his escape methods. Dusa already does everything in her power to avoid the prince, so lucky she isn't really facing Zagreus often. 

Once you return, things go relatively back to normal. Things are definitely still different, namely people are now more aware what the consequences are for you leaving. Zagreus makes an attempt to apologize for his--less than normal behavior, but for most it's already forgiven. None of them are exactly normal when you're gone, the House is hollow and clearly missing something. For a while, many of them assume it's Zagreus, his sudden shift affecting the mood of the House. Eventually they realize that it's deeper than that, and that you are at the center of it all. Many of them wonder if you're even aware of what is going on when you leave, if you're aware of the mess you leave them in. Regardless, it doesn't matter much once you're back. They all put in an effort to make everything seem normal in the hope that you won't leave again, or at least for not nearly as long. 

The Olympians

The Olympians have a much more different opinion on your absence. I don't know if I explained this anywhere, but in my head, the Olympians have a closer connection to you because of their ability to give Zagreus boons. These affinities become temporarily a part of Zagreus, and so it's a strange way of bringing you closer to them, since technically your presence is strongest in Zagreus. I don't know if I explained this well, but all you need to know is that they sense your absence much sooner, possibly right after Zagreus. Some of them, namely the older ones such as Zeus and Poseidon are less worried about your absence. Honestly, they find it funny how worried Zagreus is for you, this isn't the first time you've gone away, you should be back soon. The Olympians have a small scene of your otherworldly presence, and so are kinda able to assume that this is more than just randomly disappearing. Hermes and Dionysus take a more playful outlook, believing that it's a trick you're playing on all of them. Again, the Gods have more of a laidback outlook, if they thought you were in any danger they would act. The rest are more or less neutral about your disappearance, more worried about how it affects Zagreus. He's reckless, and while that means more fun for them, it means that he's more likely to die over and over and over, and no one wants to see that happen to family, even it they're used to it. 

Even though the Olympians are neutral about you being gone, they are overjoyed to see you back. I imagine that they are the few in game characters where it's obvious they are addressing you, the others are more subtle. So once you return they are actively addressing you. They know you aren't going to respond, so they don't do this often, but it's good to know you're back. At least now Zagreus will be getting back to normal.

#soft yandere #yandere x reader #platonic yandere #self aware hades #yandere hades game #yandere hades #zagreus hades #hades game

[thedemonsurfer]

hey uuuh im procrastinating on other things so let's write a big ol' essay about

Eclipse 3.1, and Why Moon Is Doing a Disservice By Writing Him Off As "Insane*"

*insane in this context being the definition of 'acting erratic and unpredictable with no regard to consequences' and not an actual mental illness diagnosis, I know, I wish they'd pick a different word too, but this is an essay about Eclipse's behavior, not linguistics

So! If you've only been sorta keeping up with SAMS, the current plot is someone (we still don't know who) revived everyone's favorite dusty Dorito that had been forgotten under the couch, slapped him on the ass, and pointed him at the Daycare. This has made a lot of people (in universe) very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move, even by Eclipse.

Especially by Eclipse.

Our buddy boy has magic (dunno how), incomplete memories of both the original Eclipse and the backup (no clue how he got those), and directives embedded in his code that can't be removed without killing him (¯\_(ツ)_/¯). He literally woke up in the hallway outside the Daycare and then went inside and started monologuing.

Eclipse wants to find the person who brought him back, maybe or maybe not ask some questions, and then kill them.

He reeeeeally wants to kill them.

(This whole arc honestly boils down to Eclipse grabbing various folks and shaking them while screaming "ARE YOU MY MOMMY?!")

In recent eps Moon has accused him of going 'insane', mostly due to his insistence on picking fights and threatening others, and that he cannot shut up about wanting to get the guy that made him. He very recently picked a fight with Lunar, who killed him again-- and proved at the moment he can't be killed permanently, he'll just come back in a new body.

Huh.. fighting a programmed compulsion, becoming more erratic and aggressive over time, breakdown of logic and reasoning... That seems kind of familiar...

Oh yeah! This is Eclipse's kill code. I'm calling it the 'bother code', but 'cringecode' and 'pain-in-the-ass code' aren't off the table. Unlike Moon's kill code, the expression seems to be 'be a distraction to Moon' rather than like, outright murdering people.

Like the kill code, fighting the compulsion seems to make his behavior more unstable. Because here's the thing: Eclipse isn't stupid.

Well.

Okay, Eclipse is stupid, but not... like this.

Eclipse is a manipulator. His thing has always been to recruit others to help him achieve his goal, and he's patient about it. He's willing to work for months on someone, and while he does shoot himself in the foot eventually, it's usually more indirectly than this. Moon is currently helping him search for the guy, it makes no sense for Eclipse to continue posturing and threatening.

Except-- that's his only outlet right now.

The "I need to find the guy who made me"? That's Eclipse's goal, the one he's pursing with all the stubbornness he has.

The "hey what if I killed or maimed some of your family"? That's the directives.

What we're seeing with Eclipse's behavior is him desperately trying to keep himself on track, when the bother code is trying to yank him in another direction. Threatening Moon so he'll 'work faster' is an outlet, a way for him to briefly pacify the code while redirecting it back into his own goal. He knows it's a stupid suggestion, but he's going to make it anyway because he has no choice.

I think he feels like he's running out of time as well. Because Eclipse can be patient, but he gets frustrated and short tempered the closer he gets to a deadline (this is why I believe he started being meaner to Lunar-- he was frustrated about not finding the star and had given himself only a month to do it).

So like.. yeah. I don't think he's going 'insane' or 'losing his mind'. I think he's fighting a losing battle against his own programming, and taking the frustration and panic out on everyone else. Because the kill code couldn't be fought off indefinitely, eventually the bot would crack under it. And it'd be nice if Moon could acknowledge that Eclipse's behavior isn't entirely voluntary, and he IS I think honestly doing his best-- he outright came to them for help, something he's never done before.

Idk maybe they need to let Eclipse put Moon in a stupid trap again for an ep to get it out of his system so he can chill out for a while.

A sidenote! Its interesting to me that Eclipse's behavior in the coming back ep seemed to be erratic only as long as Moon was present. Once Moon left, Eclipse changed gears in how he was talking to Solar, and had some very classic "you know you're better than this, don't you want to go apeshit?" lines. The kind of thing that we've seen from the previous Eclipse incarnations. Dunno yet if it means anything, but it's interesting!

#the sun and moon show #tsams #tsams eclipse

[ranticore]

Two shortwing rival academics and a lil bit about spire culture

The East North Spire (or honestly just 'Spire', people will know what you mean) is the most densely populated location on the planet. It consists of the remains of one of the largest old telecommunications spires on a cliff. The sea around here is shallow and dense with reedbeds which can be used to make building material. Wood (or an alien equivalent) doesn't exist on Siren so reeds make up most permanent and impermanent structures, as well as providing the pulp with which to make paper and the extremely light reedsilk clothing that harpies wear.

Being surrounded by abundant natural resources as well as being an area with relatively mixed water year-round, so good fishing opportunities, the spire was an obvious choice to build on. The structure of the spire is made of woven reed platforms and silk tents attached to the main trunk, but over the years it has grown immensely wide and complex. People might liken its appearance to a giant multicoloured tree if they knew what a tree was. The structure extends down the cliff-face all the way to the water, where it expands into a dense network of docks and pontoons which has become something of a globlal shipping hub.

The spire is mostly famous for its strict occupation-based culture and honorifics system, which I originally scribbled down on a drawing of Qedivar and Terwy in ramble form, but it's important to understand that these names are cultural and geographical so not limited to harpies.

This is the first pass of the naming system so it's likely outdated lol.

Anyway what started as a collection of craft guilds at the spire transformed over centuries into the world's only institute of higher learning. It is mostly a gigantic and deeply bureaucratic university, the headmaster of which is the highest authority in the entire city.

The culture at the spire is loud. Open debate, arguments, and outright fights are encouraged as a way to clear the air and avoid any simmering tension building up between aggrieved parties. Holding a grudge is considered physically bad for your health, worse than any consequences of a heated debate or quick scuffle (drawing blood is where this acceptance of fighting ends, however). The population density is ludicrous, especially in the shortwing bowers where you'd be lucky to have a wingspan's worth of space to yourself, so it's in their best interests to become very good at managing conflict as early as possible. There is no concept of romantic relationships as a separate phenomenon to platonic relationships here and the potential for gigantic nightmarish polycules to develop is almost guaranteed, but a comparatively small societal weight is placed on sex and intimacy, it's just a thing you do with your friends and that's about it, you won't get any institution of marriage though it is possible (rare) for a pair to be exclusive.

There are no blood ties or familial bonds among inhabitants of the spire. There are differing gestation periods & nurseries based on body type, but among the shortwings, who are the most numerous and have very short gestation periods, nursery duty is pretty much like jury duty. Everybody gets called out to the nursery every couple of years to do early infant care, once the birthing parent is no longer needed (at time of weaning usually). The infants are communally raised and when they're old enough to learn they get shuffled immediately off to school where they will remain until age 12 or so when they pick their main topic of study, or a craft apprenticeship. Then their fellow students or guild masters are considered to be their true families.

The culture is frequently xenophobic against basically everyone else; it's got Big City disease where everyone living outside may as well not exist, and other places are far less important. Particular negative consideration is given to people from the Western continent who are thought of as just inherently dumber for not having any great institutions of learning, with the notable exception of the visored harpies. There's also a strongly ableist element in the spire, those not considered smart enough or not fit enough to work a craft are practically second class citizens.

Qedivar and Amivar (-var suffix indicating a scholar working on a theory) share a bower, they're on-again-off-again frenemies due to the fact that the two of them are working on very different theories on the origin of people. Amivar has proposed a theory of evolution, which is partially wrong where the humans are concerned (as they were intentionally designed but have experienced natural selection since) and correct for all other life on Siren (which did evolve), and Qedivar believes the Precursors were similar to gods who magicked the entire planet into being and then populated it with distinct groups of people. Both theories have some merit but really all they've achieved is endless debates and fights, until a particularly harsh defeat at Qedivar's grant application causes our pal Qedivar to decide to set out to prove his theory right by any means necessary, with a budget of almost zero.

While Qedivar travels to the Western continent to learn the heretical truth (which is that he was wrong and they're all just Human aliens), Amivar stays behind. He continues his work, but when the ministry of knowledge at the spire comes knocking to demand to know Qedivar's whereabouts, he's faced with a tough choice - sell Qedivar out and reveal his location, thus potentially getting a really nice research grant in return for his evolution theory which has proven very unpopular, or cover for him and, in doing so, implicitly accept the unacceptable truth of what his colleague has uncovered. I had a lot of fun thinking over Amivar and his actions in these circumstances, in a situation where where so much hinges on pride and self-advocacy... a look at the guy who has to stay behind and deal with the consequences of someone else's grand adventure (as well as the ministry of knowledge threatening to disappear him).

#similar to most of this other siren art it was originally posted to subscribers 1 year ago #setting: siren

[silvervioletvalentine]

❣️! Strange love !❣️

Pairing : max verstappen X femOC (Cherrie)

Word count : 6.1k

Warnings: pure fluff / Cherrie being a menace. Max permanently being exasperated. That’s it I think xoxo

As Max stepped out from their bedroom in confusion after a while of not hearing his girlfriends loud voice bellowing out the lyrics to the songs that were blaring from the radio in the kitchen , he could only hesitantly poke his head around the corner with trepidation .

Because when his girlfriend went quiet , it was not a good sign.

The only time she ever shut her big mouth up was either when she was sleeping or doing something that she knew he wouldn't agree with.

Which was a lot . Because the love of his life apparently liked to keep him on his toes and was determined to give him Grey hair as soon as possible.

He spent about fifty percent of his time worrying about racing and the other fifty percent worrying about what the hell Cherrie was going to do next.

She was an absolute nutcase who didn't seem to ever think twice . She just did whatever strange idea popped into her head without even considering the consequences.

It was often Max that was left to deal with them. Rushing to fix whatever mess she had made and apologise to anybody that she had brought into her chaos as well.

He got asked a lot about why he was with her if he spent half the time scolding her or dragging her away from bad decisions.

She wasn't exactly the type of girl that people pictured him with.

She wasn't serious . She wasn't level headed or competitive . She wasn't like him at all.

Instead she was loud , obscene and careless. And barely ever did she take anything seriously .

He could remember the time that he had crashed a few months ago and instead of his girlfriend fretting over him and being in tears with worry, he had returned back to his trailer to find her waiting for him with some hello kitty plasters in her hands and a mischievous smile on her pretty face .

He hadn't been in the best of moods so he had huffed in annoyance at her .

"You can't be serious!" Yet he had stood still and let her plaster one on his cheek where there was the smallest of scratches from where he had pulled off his helmet too roughly.

She had merely laughed and patted him on the shoulder with a shrug . "That looked insane on tv. What did you do that for? Made my heart jump!" She had exclaimed as she hurried back over to the couch to continue watching the rest of the race that was playing out.

Max had gaped at her , hands pressed firmly on his hips in disbelief at what he was hearing.

"I didn't do it on purpose!" He had exclaimed looking at his girlfriend with a small pout when she had started to cheer on Charles in front of the tv instead of coddling him like he had stupidly expected.

Huffing to himself as he pulled off the rest of his suit and flung it aside , not caring where it landed.

He was too busy side eyeing Cherrie moodily , wanting her to make a fuss over him .

Having at least expected more than a little pat on the shoulder! But he should have known that his adrenaline junkie , uncaring , so fucking strange wonder of a girlfriend would act like this.

He had once watched her get stung by two jellyfishes and laugh about it. Forcing him to take a picture of her painful leg while he nearly had a full blown panic attack , hurriedly Googling if you could die from jelly fish stings.

So him crashing into the wall and getting out completely unharmed probably didn't even make her flinch.

She was a nutcase!

"I can't believe you're cheering on another man after I've just lost like that! Don't you have any pity for me Cher?" He couldn't help but wine as he threw himself down on-top of her so that she had no Choice but to pay him attention.

She had just smiled and ran her fingers through his hair , still not taking her eyes away from the screen not matter how hard he huffed and puffed.

"You haven't lost . You'll win the next race and then the next one after that .." she simply replied. Letting out a small cheer as Charles overtook Lewis around the corner bend.

Ignoring the way that Max was scowling up at her from her lap as she did so. Instead she just gently patted his cheek and even gave it a little pinch.

Realising that she wasn't going to give in, he let out a loud sigh of defeat. Snuggling his face into her thigh as he wrapped his arm around her leg and got more comfortable .

"You think I'll win?" His voice was quiet and unsure, needing reassurance after that little disaster of his.

There was no hesitation in her voice as she answered him "every time you get into that car I believe that you can win Max. I wouldn't be dating you if I thought you were a loser!" She joked .

Referring to the comments that had been made about her being after his money and only dating him for the fame. Cherrie thought they were funny because she hadn't even been that interested in him at first .

And max had spent the whole summer stubbornly following her around until she agreed to go on a date with him.

And well, the rest was history.

He was stuck with her annoying ass now.

But he had wanted her annoying ass first , so it was all his own fault really .

He had known how odd she was from the beginning. The first time that he had saw her while on holiday , she had been stood in front of a board with a smile on her pretty face while a blindfolded man threw knives around her head.

Watching the way she had giggled after it was done and asked the man if she could try doing that to him as well , and well, he had been hooked since then.

And true, she stressed him the fuck out sometimes but she also gave him some of the best , funniest and most insane memories of his life .

Everyday was an adventure with Cherrie by his side , she would drag him along to all this crazy shit that he would have never even had known existed if it wasn't for her.

So when people wondered why he was so firm in his belief that she was the one , he merely smiled and told them the same thing.

It was the way she made him feel.

She made him feel normal, she made him feel alive.

Since the moment he had met her butterfly's had become a permanent residence in his chest, no matter how much time passed between them, he still looked at her smile and felt the love right through his whole fucking being.

'But she makes you worry!' They would frown in confusion as to why he was willing to put up with a woman who permanently did stupid shit and had him on the edge of his seat.

I love her . He would simply reply. And when you loved someone you constantly worried about them. It was normal.

Perhaps his girlfriend wasn't exactly a hundred percent normal but the feeling he got whenever she did something stupid was.

But mostly it was because she loved him too. And she liked him.

She liked being around him no matter what mood he was in.

A lot of people didn't like to be around him because they thought that he was too brash and blunt , too boring and serious .

But not Cherrie.

She loved him and she liked him.

She had told him that she loved hearing him rant to her about the troubles with his car and crew even though she hardly understood the terms he was saying.

It's your passion. She had whispered to him one night after he was finished telling her about how he wasn't satisfied with the new engine that had been fitted and tested that day. Any other woman would have bored out of her mind but not her.

Never her.

Instead she had a pretty smile on her face as she rested her chin on his bare chest and looked up at him with a soft sigh. Contentness a heavy blanket around them.

You mean everything that you say. I can feel it.

And he loved her and liked her too.

He loved being by her side in the morning while she sat up in bed and tried out some brightly coloured eyeshadow that would start out on her eyes and then spread down to her Cheeks.

Getting Glitter everywhere as she drew art on her face without a care in the world while he silently laid back in bed and took pictures other without her even knowing .

He loved watching her try new foods after he had spent all night convincing her to do so. The way that she would scrunch up her nose and let out a little hum as she tasted it. Although she would never admit that he was right . Instead she would just swap their plates around and give him a apologetic kiss.

He loved the way that he was the one that she ran to when she had news or even just to tell him stupid shit that meant absolutely nothing.

He liked that he was always the one that she wanted to know about it first .

He liked the way that she would take the lead in a busy crowd and reach back for his hand without even saying a word. He would let her pull him to whatever destination she had in mind, knowing that no matter what they did she would make him happy.

He liked the way that she wasn't afraid to stick up for him either. Having picked up on some of his own bluntness and curses , she wouldn't hesitate to go up to someone that had wronged him and call them out. Refusing to budge until she had forced that person to apologise to him face to face , sincerely.

Max thought it was funny that his five foot four girlfriend was such a wildcard. It always was the short ones that were the craziest after all.

What she lacked in height she made up for in impulsiveness .

His friends often liked to tease him about how he looked like a concerned father with a naughty child that was acting out . He supposed they weren't that wrong to think so.

He knew that he was the mature one in their relationship, that wasn't a secret .

So with her lack of loudness making him uneasy , he walked into the kitchen with worry and then paused by the doorway at the sight in front of him.

Making direct eye contact with his girlfriend who was sat cross legged on their dining table with only her lace knickers on, with scissors held up to her head as she tried to cut herself some bangs. A heap of hair already covering her lap .

He could see that she had also hacked at the ends of her hair too. It now rested to the middle of her waist instead of the bottom of her back like it had an hour ago.

He sighed loudly , not at all surprised.

“We have dinner in half an hour Cher." He stated matter of factly as he glanced down at his watch with worry.

"Was now really the right time for a new look?" He asked her as he walked over to her and gently took the scissors from her hands before she could do any more damage to her pretty hair.

She just smiled and laughed a little at the look on his face . Smoothing her hand over his smart dress shirt with a appreciative hum.

"You look handsome." She told him as she leant up to kiss him. Momentarily forgetting about the mess of hair she was dealing with.

Max didn't. He let her kiss him for a moment longer before pulling away and looking sternly down at her.

Patting down her new bangs so he could see how uneven she had cut them, shaking his head at her in exasperation.

"You look insane. Couldn't you have waited baby? Keep still a minute while I fix it.." he told her firmly as he began to fix her bangs for her.

Lifting up the scissors to her hair and Cutting off the longer pieces till they were all even , grabbing the brush from beside her and brushing through them to make sure that it was right.

Missing the way that Cherrie was gazing at him fondly as he focused on cutting her hair. Sectioning the rest of her her hair into two parts and pulling them to the front of her chest so he could see what he was working with.

"My dress is low on the back so I wanted my hair to rest at the end of the fabric so it covers it." She simply informed him of her brilliant idea.

He rolled his eyes in amusement as he started cutting the end of her hair straight.

Typical. He thought with a smirk .

“why the bangs then? What does that cover?" He murmured with a small smile, one that he just couldn't help but let out whenever she was near.

Cherrie just hummed "absolutely nothing. I just thought they'd look cute. Don't you agree?" She pressed when he was finally done. Shaking out her hair and shooting him a pleased grin , her dimples showing.

Max wiped down the hair from her skin the best he could , trying to ignore the fact that the love of his life was sat in front of him with just a thong on.

They had a important dinner to get to. He reminded himself firmly as he tore his eyes away from her pierced tits and back up to her glimmering eyes instead .

"Don't play cute with me. You know I think you look good in anything." He warned her playfully as he helped her get down off the table.

"We're going to be late. You can be the one to tell them why this time! I'm not covering for you again!" He told her seriously. Fed up with her constant lateness.

Having been the one to take the blame the last time she had made them late because she wanted to finish watching the football match first. Even though max had told her that they could simply record it on their tv so she could rewatch it when they got back instead.

You would have though he had told her to kill one of the players with the disgraced look she had shot him at his rational suggestion.

“It’s not the same! I want to see it as it happens! That’s like messi being in our house and instead of seeing him we just get someone else to take a video so we can watch it when he’s gone! Don’t be ridiculous Max!” She had yelled at him dramatically before shoving a football jersey over his head and grabbing the beers, shoving one into his hand with a grin as the game started.

So Max had been forced to yet again lie to his friends.

'I couldn't find the car keys. Sorry guys .'He had told their friends with a grimace as he held out the seat for his girlfriend who was already tipsy from downing beer after beer during the match , once they finally arrived an hour later .

Cherrie absolutely buzzing from her teams win. She hasn’t stopped beaming since he managed to finally drag her out of their home and into the car.

He supposed the face paint with her favourite players number on her cheeks really hadn't helped to sell his lie either.

But Cherrie refused to be the one to take the blame despite everybody knowing that the reason he was always late was 99.9% always her fault.

Cherrie just huffed at him as she pulled her dress over her head , wiggling her body from side to side as she tried to adjust it. Leaving Max to stare at the low neck and cut out sides and back with an open mouth.

Swallowing Thickly as he looked at her in awe. Feeling like he was going to have a stroke as he tugged at the collar of his shirt , his skin flushing just from the sight of her.

He didn’t think that there would ever be a day where her beauty didn’t make him breathless.

"Please baby! They're already pissy with me for making us late to your birthday party a few weeks ago!" She whined as she leant down to slide her feet into some high heels. Placing her hand on his shoulder to keep her balance .

Max snorted as he ran his fingers through her newly cut hair to help it frame her face like he knew she liked it.

"Once again. That was your fault. Because only you could make me late to my own surprise party." He mused beyond amused at the reminder of that day .

His friends had spent two hours in a darkened room waiting for him to come through the door so that they could jump out and surprise him.

Only Cherrie had taken him one look at him wearing the new tight shirt and even tighter jeans that she had bought him before dragging him to the backseat of his car .

It was only after the third orgasm that she had came back up for air with a shocked gasp , eyes wide as she blurted out 'your party!' Before quickly pulling her dress back down and dragging him out of the car while he hurried to button up his jeans again.

His friends had taken on look at his lipstick covered face and neck , as well as her swollen lips and messy hair before rolling their eyes and scolding her for not being able to keep her hands off him while max just helped himself to his cake while laughing hysterically .

Cherrie looked up at him pleadingly as he ushered her out the door while muttering about how late they were. Again.

"Please max! Just tell them that you had stomach troubles or something! I don't want them to know it's my fault again!" She pleaded to him.

Max merely shot her a unimpressed glance as he shoved her into the passenger seat of his car with a huff.

"Absolutely not. I'm not taking the blame this time! Forget it! You’re on your own with this one!”

Max gave their friends a apologetic smile as they finally arrived at the table, everyone looking up at them exasperatedly .

He glanced between their unimpressed expressions and his girlfriends pretty face with her newly cut hair and sighed in deafest.

"Sorry we're late ..I had some stomach troubles." He blurted out .

Shooting cherrie a look as she tried not to giggle from beside him.

Having already known that he wouldn't let her take the blame no matter how much he wanted to throw her under the bus.

He loved her too much to actually do it.

Charles looked over at him with a concerned frown "like food poisoning or something? I hope there's not a bug going around." He questioned him worriedly.

Max grimaced as he pulled out a chair for Cherrie and carefully tucked her into the table before sitting down beside her. Placing his hand on her thigh.

"Maybe. I'm fine now though. Don't worry." He muttered not looking at him in the eye in case the lie was written all across his face.

Then he ended up catching eyes with Daniel who was already grinning between them, his cheek in his hand as he eyed Max’s girlfriend in amusement.

"New hair?" He asked making max frown at him in bewilderment as he wondered how the hell he had noticed so quickly .

“You didn't have bangs this morning Cherrie ." He said knowingly.

Then max remembered that Cherrie always met up at the cafe with Daniel after her morning work out and fought back a annoyed groan.

Turning his head to squint his eyes in disbelief at his sheepish girlfriend who had seemed to forgotten that little detail .

"Did you cut them while max had the shits?" Daniel joked. Already guessing what had happened but ribbing him for it.

"Max has the shits?" Pierre called down the table , only catching the end of what he said.

It seemed to set a chain reaction as everybody started questioning him about his bowel movements .

Max's Face went bright red as he glared at his giggling girlfriend who he had lied for. Shaking his head with a annoyed huff as he pinched her thigh in retaliation.

"No I don't have the shits!" He exclaimed a little louder than he meant to. Making a few peoples heads turn towards their table.

He wanted to dig a hole and bury himself in it. He was going to take Cherrie with him too for putting him in this awkward position!

Their was a pause before Cherrie snorted and muttered "try telling that to our toilet."

Max smacked the back of her head .

"That's it! No wine for you!" He yanked the glass from her hands with a scowl. Sliding the bottle away from her as well in punishment .

That was the last time he covered for her. He lied to himself . No more!

He ended up telling his health coach that he had injured his wrists from his gloves being too tight when he asked him why his wrists were red.

Too mortified to admit that it was because Cherrie had the idea to tie him up and make him see god an hour before he had to get to the paddock.

Just another normal Wednesday.

As Max stood by the side of the track that overlooked a lake, looking over the barrier down at his girlfriend who has thrown herself in after stripping naked , he couldn't help but sigh.

Hands on his hips like a concerned parent as he watched  her splash around , frown deepening even further as Daniel also threw himself in as well.

He had just won p1 and Cherrie had decided to skinny dip to celebrate . He mightn't have been so annoyed if it wasn't for the hundreds of cameras that were following them around all day.

He really didn't want his girlfriend's naked body to be seen by anybody but him.

Feeling his blood pressure rise as he watched Daniel splash at her as the both of them laughed loudly , playing Around like little kids.

"Not so close Daniel!" He snapped down to his also naked friend in exasperation and worry as he saw how close the both were to each other . He did not want any part of Daniel's body to be touching hers.

Daniel just laughed and grinned up at him cheekily .

"Who's going to keep her warm then?! Just get in! It's nice!" He called up to him , Cherrie shouting her agreements as she leant her arm against his shoulder and beamed up at him happily .

Seemingly not giving too shits that everybody could see her tits as she waved up at him happily.

It was times like this that max often wondered if she did drugs when he wasn't looking.

It would make a lot of sense. It really would.

"Absolutely not! All of you need to get out and put your clothes back on! Especially you baby!" He shouted at them sternly as he took the towels from his assistants hands that he had asked her to run for.

Daniel cooed at him "aww he's nicknamed me baby how sweet! I knew you'd come around to our love Max!" He teased him. Deliberately putting his arm around cherries bare shoulder just to wind him up some more .

Max hated it when the two of them were together because all Daniel ever did was encourage his girlfriend to do crazy shit and instead of talking her down from the ledge , he jumped off it with her!

"Shut up! Watch your hands Daniel! I'm serious!"

Cherrie just laughed at his furious expression, not caring at all.

"I'm so proud of you by the way! Watching you get soaked with champagne was really hot!" She shouted up at him honestly.

Eyeing his sticky racing suit with a raise of her brow "are you sure you doing want to jump in and wash it off?" She double checked.

Max just deadpanned at her. Shaking his head with a exasperated groan. Giving up.

"You're very lucky that I love you Cherrie because you're getting on my nerves." He informed her bluntly before pulling out his phone and pressing a familiar contact.

He then looked at her in the eye smugly as he brought his phone up to his ear.

"But If you won't listen to me then I guess I'll just have to call your father-" he threatened her. Pulling out the last card in the pack, the one that he knew would work without any hesitation.

Grinning slyly when she let out a sharp gasp and quickly pushed herself away from Daniel who was calling him a party pooper as they both pulled themselves out of the water.

"Don't ring him! You bastard!" She ran over to him completely naked . Making him pocket his phone in amusement . She then Let him wrap her up in the towel till she was swaddled in it like a big baby.

Chuckling to himself as he wrapped one around her hair too, rubbing at the fabric to dry her quicker .

Daniel side eyed them as he wrapped himself in his own towel . "Are you sure you're not her daddy max? You're always telling her off like one!" He joked while laughing.

Max couldn't stop the smirk that pulled at his lips , eyes twinkling as Cherrie placed a kiss on his neck and whispered in his ear about how she was going to personally congratulate him for winning when they got home.

"I'm just a concerned boyfriend who doesn't want the whole world to see his girlfriends boobs." He said as he then wrapped her in a dressing gown as well. Flipping the hood up to keep her warm.

Daniel just smirked "too late mate." He then turned to look at Cherrie with a friendly smile .

“They’re very nice. Lovely and round." He told her casually as though he was complimenting some fruit .

Cherrie beamed back at him happily. "thank you! Grew them myself!" She joked . The both of them ignoring Max's eyes glaring daggers at them.

Shaking his head with a disbelieving huff as he decided that he had enough of the two of them being around each other .

He hauled his girlfriend away before they decided to do some more stupid shit together that would make his blood pressure rise rapidly.

"Love you." Cherrie muttered to him quietly as they made their way back to his trailer . Tucked underneath his arm where she belonged .

Max softened , any annoyance he felt quickly fading at the honesty in her voice .

He just sighed fondly and gave the side of her head a gently kiss .

"I love you." He simply replied. So utterly in love that it overwhelmed him.

Because If be didn't love her like he did , he would have ran away screaming from her years ago.

She was an absolute pain in his ass.

It was a clear fact that was further proven to him when she tried to breakup with him one night after they had been arguing over why he thought it was a bad idea to get a dog.

He couldn't believe what he was hearing when she first told him that she wanted a pug.

He had looked at her in disbelief , feeling the need to remind her the obvious.

“You're allergic to dogs." It was said bluntly and in bewilderment as he wondered what the hell she was going on about.

They couldn't get a dog when she was allergic to them! Had she gone mad?

Cherrie had frowned at him like what he told her was a lie . As though she didn't start sneezing and coughing up a lung whenever she touched one.

"I can take medicine to help. I want one Max. It's too lonely when you're not here with me !" She had exclaimed , upset  with him as she threw herself up off the bed .

Flicking on the lamp as she glared down at him unhappily .

It was three o'clock in the morning and max couldn't believe that she had woken him up for this shit.

Rubbing at his eyes tiredly as he squinted up at her from the bed. Judgement across his face. He found it hard to have patience with her when it was this early in the fucking morning!

He had just been nodding off too!

"Don't be daft! You'll make yourself ill! And how can you be lonely when you constantly have those hippies around here when I'm gone? Don't think I can't smell the lavender oil that they leave behind!" He warned her. Huffing in annoyance.

Cherrie just wouldn't let it go. Tired and emotional herself and max had known that it was a bad idea for them to watch a heartbreak chick flick film before bed.

But he had still let her put it on anyways .

And now he was paying the price because his girlfriend was a melodramatic drama queen who had watched a film about a man who didn't love his girlfriend anymore , who had also refused to let them get a dog in the film as well.

Clearly she had gotten it into her head that they were doomed to be like the characters too. Having tested him all night long with utter bullshit.

"They say a man is falling out of love when he spends more time on his phone when his partner is right beside him to talk to." She had muttered with a scowl when he had been replying to some work emails on his phone before bed.

Knowing that she had heard it from that stupid movie , he had merely glanced up at her in amusement .

"Do you like your diamond jewellery  and expensive clothes?" He had returned to her . Their huge closet filled with her shit already giving him the answer .

She had just frowned harder. Not answering him.

He smirked triumphantly "these emails I'm answering about promotions will get you more of those things . So shut your trap and get back into bed." He scolded her.

Only perhaps he should have settled her mind further than that before they went to sleep.

Maybe then she wouldn't have been trying to break up with him because he wouldn't let her get a dog.

"We need to break up max . This isn't going to work. You obviously don't understand my needs anymore-"

Max Couldn’t have scoffed any louder if he tried. Finally Sitting up in the bed with a loud, annoyed groan as he eyed her in disbelief .

"Your need to annoy me you mean?" He yawned, casually leaning back against the pillow with a small amused smile playing on his lips .

The look on his face only seemed to piss her off even more but he couldn't help it.

She was being completely ridiculous!

She then sniffled loudly, dialling up her drama.

"why are you smiling? Are you happy that I'm not your girlfriend anymore?" She almost cried . Glaring back at him tearfully.

Max just snorted , rolling his eyes at her .

“We're not breaking up stupid. Now Get back into the bed!" He snapped at her tiredly .

Pointing sternly to the space beside him, impatiently patting it to further get his point across when she made no love to do as he said.

"No! You obviously don’t want me to be happy!"

"Because I don't want you to get a pet that's going to make you never breathe properly again?!"

"You're being dramatic! I'll just take the medicine for my allergies!"

Max groaned  loudly , covering his face with his hands as he tried not to lose his shit at her.

"Me? You're being crazy." He ground out "I never said we couldn't get a pet. Just not a dog that you’re allergic to !"

There was a long pause before Cherrie blinked away her tears and cautiously approached the bed again.

"A cat?" She murmured hopefully. Already crawling back into the bed and sliding underneath the covers now that her hysterics were over. Knowing that she was about to get her own way again.

Perhaps also opening that bottle of wine during the movie was a bad idea too.

Max had forgotten how emotional she got after drinking it. It was like she went through five stages of grief when she drank red wine.

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders with his eyes already closed, kissing the side of her head with a little laugh.

"Fine but you're changing the litter tray." He warned her. Feeling her smile brightly against his chest.

"I will! I promise! You won't have to do anything!" She had promised him gleefully . Giving him a kiss before promptly falling back to sleep now that she had gotten her own way.

Leaving max to sigh to himself as he tried to go back to sleep. Having a feeling that she wouldn’t be that helpful at all.

It just wasn’t in cherries nature to pick up cat poo.

Yet another lie of here that was proven as two weeks later he was knelt down with a grimace as he cleaned out the litter box for the fluffy ginger cat that was nudging him against his leg.

Glaring up at his girlfriend who was dancing around the kitchen while singing to the radio , without a care in the world.

Instead she was too busy rambling on about how she was going to get herself some pole dancing lessons, jumping from one subject to another. Filled with endless ideas ths never seemed to stop.

Sighing to himself as he finished cleaning it up and set out some food for the fur ball as well .

Then he got to his feet and pursed his lips as he eyed the love of his life with a feeling of acceptance.

This was going to be the rest of his life.

Pretending that he wore the trousers in their relationship and acting like he wasn't ready to do anything he could to make her happy .

Even if it meant cleaning up cat poo so that she didn’t have to.

So with that thought in mind, how he must be crazy to love her even more than he did yesterday despite how much she drove him up the wall.

He knew it was time.

He walked over to her and gently grabbed her hand , making her look over at him with a curious

smile on her pretty face.

"What's up handsome?" She had chirped obliviously at him. Leaning forward to give him a quick kiss.

Not even noticing the way he pulled something out of his Jean pocket and slid it smoothly onto her finger , his eyes locked with hers as he let out a small laugh at how oblivious she was.

"I'm gonna be your husband." He decided to tell her bluntly . 

Because he had no doubt in his mind that if he decided to plan a fancy proposal that she would somehow find a way to ruin in.

Not on purpose but that was just the way she was.

So instead he settled on simply letting her know instead.

Cherrie looked at him with wide eyes before finally noticing the diamond ring on her finger.

Then she did the most her thing possible and laughed loudly in response .

Casually shrugging her shoulders as she wrappped her arms around his neck and gave him a soft kiss.

"Okay. Sounds fun." She simply said once they pulled away to breathe again .

"Yeah?" He grinned . Looking between her eyes to be sure. His heart squeezing in his chest, so full of love for his little pain in the ass.

She just beamed back at him happily. As in love with him as he was her .

"yeah. I'm gonna be your wife."

Then she tilted her head cheekily "can we get married in Vegas after you win the race there?" The pure confidence that she had that he would win that race made him grin like a lovesick idiot.

Squeezing her hips and blinking back happy tears from his eyes as he kissed her again and again and again.

They could get married in the basement for all he cared. As long as she was officially his to worry about for the rest of his life , he didn't care.

She may have been a little strange but she was his wildcard  . Nobody else's.

He wouldn't change her for anyone.

#max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one imagine #f1 fic

[hubristicassholefight]

Preliminary Round: Final Fantasy

Propaganda Below cut

Alisaie

When she first shows up she's wearing matching outfits and wielding matching grimoires with her twin brother, but when she properly joins the game's main cast it becomes clear that she has swordswoman energy so incredibly strong that as a magical prodigy her chosen fighting style is "manifest sword out of aether and then hit people with it." She later simplifies this to merely wielding a sicknasty crystal rapier; As we know, fury and compassionate outrage are more powerful under when concentrated, which makes this tiny elf sword nerd a volatile pressurecooker of heroism. She's here to care about the little guy, make frustrated noises, and charge off to solve and/or cause problems, and truly what else is swordswoman energy about?

She wanted to use a sword so bad she summoned one made of pure magic, before a friend gave her an actual sword because he was worried about the toll summoning a sword made of pure magic was having on her, I love her and her brother so much. One of them is trans (they did the identical but different-gender twins thing). At one point Alisaie mopes because her and her brother didn't get new outfits when everyone else did. She then jumps off of a balcony because she saw an opportunity for adventure. Canonically doesn't like pickles on burgers (she put them on someone else's plate!! the scandal!!)

Lucia

she fights with a sword and shield— very classic paladin flavor. she’s achieved and maintained high ranking status for her combat prowess!; nobody is immune to hot lady knight especially when she is over six feet tall and in full plate armor tbh . easily the hottest defector from the evil empire in xiv. also she can pilot a big robot so that’s automatically a point in her favor imo

Mylla

She's the leader of the gladiator's guild. Gladiators are the class that use swords and shields. She kind of gets sidelined once it upgrades to the Paladin job for a bit, but then they went 'no Mylla and her guild are cooler than these idiots' and did a tournament arc

Lightning

She uses a Gunblade. A sword thats also a gun. Said to be very rare because it takes so much skill to use. Does lots of slashing and backflips. Later becomes Champion of A God and sword fights a guy for eternity. Later becomes champion of a Different god and uses lots of different swords; She is dramatic and has lots of character growth and is awesome.

Agrias

She has the class Holy Knight which enables her to use Holy Sword techniques as long as she has a sword equipped, which pretty much makes her the most powerful swordfighter your party can recruit (with the exception of Cidolfus Orlandeau, who has her skillset plus extra); You meet Agrias at the start of the game, and it's a few chapters before she joins your party permanently during which she gets quite a bit of screentime. This is significant, since Tactics lets you dismiss any character that's not the protagonist, and consequently the story is written to not assume you have any particular character in your party except for guests, meaning Agrias gets more story time than most characters that join your party.

Paine

starts out as a swordfighter with a big sword with a skull design. #girlboss; ffx-2 is a Wild Ride already but that they gave us a goth lesbian with a sword as our third party member was a great choice. i love her and also ffx-2. it's underappreciated.

Terra

Swords are one kind of weapon she can wield. Her ultimate weapon is known as Apocalypse.

Celes

She was turned into a Magitek knight by the Gestahlian Empire which she betrays. Swords are one kind of weapon she can wield. Her ultimate weapon is a sword known as Save the Queen.

#final fantasy #alisaie leveilleur #lucia goe junius #mylla swordsong #lightning farron #agrias oaks #paine #terra branford #celes chere #final fantasy xiv #final fantasy xiii #final fantasy tactics #final fantasy x 2 #final fantasy vi #poll #official #prelims #swordswoman showdown

[annabelle--cane]

one of the things that was and is really important to me about dear evan hansen is the way it deals with the question "okay, you've done something unforgivably terrible with permanent consequences. what now?" obviously this is primarily explored with evan, but it's really present with larry, cynthia, and even heidi a little bit, too. it shows people struggling with accepting that they made disastrously wrong choices and trying to find a way to move on that doesn't either double-down or lead directly to total self destruction. which is why I find it utterly maddening to see criticisms that are just "all these characters suck and did bad things, so show = bad." way to miss the whole point, ya dingus.

#dear evan hansen: media for guilty people #deh #marina marvels at life

[ranchthoughts]

Moments of ephemerality/permanence/YOLO/photography/voyeurism/control/accountability etc. in Only Friends ep. 8

of course, where we've been so far

there's been a lot of good meta on many of the topics below over this weekend but I'm not going to link them here - they will of course be in the weekly meta round-ups I make on Fridays

Ownership and control

Over and over this episode we had characters saying what they thought characters should do with their life - mostly Cheum and Top worried about Mew, but also of course Ray with Sand. However, we also had characters push back against the idea that people were owed an opinion or control over other people's choices - April tells Cheum that just because she is Mew's friend doesn't mean she has control over his life, Mew tells Top that his soberness is not Top's concern nor purview, especially given they aren't even together.

Other examples:

Dan, Nick's boss, texting him to say "don't get too drunk"

Ray telling Sand "You like me, you love me, you can't walk away from me. You're mine no matter what," Ray not allowing Sand to kiss or flirt with other people despite the fact that he is dating Mew

Boston hesitating to spend time with/hook up with Atom because Cheum doesn't approve

Boundary pushing and crossing

In the same vein: times boundaries/lines were pushed or crossed this episode:

Speaking about Mew to Sand, Ray says "at least he let me cross the friend zone line" (brings to mind the distinctions Sand tried to draw between fwb, friends, and partners)

Sand didn't reply to Ray's messages so Ray finds him at the university

Ray doesn't take Sand's no for an answer when he's trying to get Sand to join him in his community service

The job Dan offers to Nick involves a lot of overtime, and Dan is definitely interested in Nick as more than a (subordinate) coworker, he also texts Nick at the party telling him not to drink too much

Nick was blocked by Boston but he shows up to the party to talk to him

Sand and Nick made a pact to move on but they have broken their own promise by being at the party

Ray interrupting Sand's moment with the other Freddie Mercury guy at the party, asking if Sand slept with him, Ray inserting himself into the conversation and proposing a threesome

Ray kissing Sand without consent

Top undressing Mew after the party then climbing into bed to cuddle him while he sleeps

Boston taking Atom home even though he knows Cheum will be mad

Boundary setting

A few instances of, for lack of a better word, "boundary setting" I wanted to note too:

April reminding Cheum that Mew is a grown adult who can make his own decisions

Sand pushes back against Ray quite a bit this episode - e.g. telling him to leave him alone, refusing to go do Ray's community service with him (though he did seem to be worn down a bit at the end of that conversation, etc.)

Boston shuts down Nick when he approaches him at the party and rejects the idea that Nick is blameless/hasn't done bad things as well

Mew refuses to kiss Ray in private (which of course sets up the incredible moment of Mew kissing Ray in front of everyone to make Top jealous)

Mew repeatedly affirming it is his choice to do what he wants and other people are not involved/should not have opinions on what he chooses to do

Freedom

I also noticed "freedom" mentioned a couple of times this episode this episode:

Boston tells Atom a relationship needs trust and freedom

Mew says he has more freedom without Top in his life

And you could contrast this with the above times people were controlled/people tried to control other people (e.g. Top and Cheum getting involved in Mew's life, Ray stopping Sand from kissing others, etc.).

Accountability and responsibility

Continuing on our discussion of accountability and responsibility of the last two weeks:

Top says he doesn't want Mew to "mess up his whole life because of me" - he envisions Mew's recent lifestyle changes to have lasting consequences

Ray seems quite chill when talking about the community service he has to do (his main concern seems to be that it is boring), and he does drugs at the party despite that being risky given he was just arrested for drunk driving

Sand says he accompanied Nick to the party because he feels bad for how he hurt Nick

Cheum lays into Ray for doing drugs at the party; he tells her to "loosen up" and she tells him to "learn some responsibility" and reminds him multiple times that he is bound to get jail time if caught with drugs right after his other arrest

the friend group getting in trouble/visited by the cops because their party is too loud and they didn't file for permission for it

Boredom

After @waitmyturtles comments last week I was very attuned to any mention of boredom in this week's episode

Ray says the community service he has to do is boring

Mew says he is bored of himself, he thinks he is too plain (and this is why he is trying out a new lifestyle)

Ephemerality vs. permanence

Just a couple of the things I noticed this episode that didn't fit anywhere else in this write up:

Yo and Plug breaking up, Yo unable to commit to the relationship in the way that Plug wanted because she has been let down so much in the past (relationships have not lasted, people have not stuck around) - scared and saddened by the ephemerality of life she deliberately chooses ephemerality now to save herself heartache

Boston staring at a picture of him and Nick on the dock - permanent record of their time together, despite Boston saying he doesn't like photos taken of himself with partners, we saw this photo meant something to Nick too (he excitedly showed it off to Sand)

hi ephemerality squad: @chickenstrangers, @clara-maybe-ontheroad, @distant-screaming, @lurkingshan, @neuroticbookworm, @rocketturtle4, @slayerkitty, @thatgirl4815, @twig-tea, @waitmyturtles, @wen-kexing-apologist

#ofts #ofts meta #ephemerality squad #just a short one this week - not really feeling it but there were many instances of themes that I thought would be important to record #ofts images

[chasertheo]

Jamie had gotten himself a house. It felt very settled, in a way that Theo was truthfully a bit envious of. Especially at this particular moment in his life. Jamie was settling into a permanent house and Theo felt like he was stuck in a holding pattern, waiting to hear if Puddlemere had decided to entertain some offer from another team to buy out his contract. Some of those were already floating around, according to his agent. She’d told him it would more likely be his choice this time around, given how good of a season he’d had—and the team as a whole had—but Theo didn’t want to get his hopes up. Especially because there were other complicating factors.

Theo had known when he and Jamie decided to be friends with benefits that it would be a potentially bad decision. That things could get complicated, like Theo’s relationships always seemed to do, especially around the time the quidditch season came to an end. He’d been hopeful that they wouldn’t get complicated with Jamie. They were mates first. Jamie always said how he felt, always. How much room for complication could there really have been? Or so Theo thought, as he let himself spend more and more time with Jamie, let himself get closer without realizing just how close they were getting. It wasn’t until that conversation they’d had about love that Theo had started to wonder. Jamie’s take on it was wrong, that much he was sure of. He was also sure he’d never felt it before…at least not with anyone else he’d been with. Only when he’d thought about it later, he’d realized all the things he thought he was supposed to feel with the other blokes…well. He felt all of that with Jamie. And then Theo had thought about it some more. About how their relationship was actually a lot more similar to the two boyfriend relationships he’d had than it was to that first experience which was actually friends with benefits. The cuddling. The deep conversations. The conversations and sharing intimate details with each other could be friend stuff. But coupled with everything else…with how often they saw each other now…Theo was certain of how he felt. What he wasn’t entirely certain of was how Jamie felt. 

It was tempting to just swallow his own feelings down once he realized them and plan his escape to a new team, a clean break so he could get over Jamie and move on to someone who actually wanted to date and be in love. Only Theo couldn’t shake the thought that he and Jamie were spending just as much time together as a couple. Sharing even more than Theo had ever shared with anyone he’d dated. And there was the end of the season looming over him. Theo could keep quiet and leave and never face Jamie’s rejection, and wonder forever, just like he’d wondered for seven years whether Jamie had actually wanted Theo to kiss him. He could keep quiet and, if it was an option, stay, only staying and keeping this going felt too hard now he’d figured out just how he felt about Jamie. Theo wasn’t sure he could pretend not to feel like that for that long. And then if it came out and Jamie didn’t feel the same way…Theo wasn’t sure Puddlemere would still be the best place for him. Not because he thought Jamie would be a jerk or anything of the sort. It would just be too hard to be so close to him. 

So that really only left one option, which was to tell Jamie the truth and find out how he felt. A scary thought made even scarier by the fact that Jamie apparently thought love was a choice. What was he going to say when Theo said he’d fallen headfirst into it? But—Theo needed to know. He needed it out there. This couldn’t be like last time, like the kiss. Theo had tried to bring it up the last couple times he and Jamie were together, but he’d lost his nerve and ended up just snogging Jamie silly until he forgot to ask Theo what he’d wanted to talk about. Not today, he told himself. He would go see Jamie’s new house, and then they’d sit down and he’d tell Jamie the truth and he’d deal with the consequences. 

Fortunately the house gave Theo something else to focus on to actually get himself to Jamie’s. He couldn’t very well show up to declare his love empty-handed, and he also couldn’t show up to his mate’s house empty handed. So a housewarming gift it was. In one hand he held a small spider plant in a nice pot that would go with Jamie’s furniture, at least the furniture he’d had in his flat. Theo was always teasing Jamie that he needed more green in his flat, bringing him a plant that would be almost impossible for him to kill felt like a nice thing to bring to Jamie’s new house. In his other hand was a gift bag that contained a soft plaid wool blanket, the same kind that Theo had in his flat—a gift from his father when he’d moved into his first apartment—and that Jamie always liked to use when he was over, just in different colors more appropriate for the captain of Puddlemere. Just a nice friendly gesture was all. Just like double-checking that his hair wasn’t a mess and making sure his shirt was unbuttoned the right amount to give Jamie something to look at without looking like he was going to the club was totally a friendly thing. Only it obviously wasn’t, but that was something to be addressed after Theo saw the house. For now he apparated to the address Jamie gave him and smiled when he saw Jamie already waiting for him at the gate, his heart doing an annoying little move that Theo couldn’t realize he hadn’t noticed for so long. “Hey, Jamie.” For a second Theo just grinned at Jamie like a lovestruck idiot. Then he registered the house behind him. Theo wasn’t sure what he’d expected. Not some showy ostentatious thing like some quidditchers got, but also maybe not something quite as small as this one looked. But Theo didn’t notice how nice the house looked because the next thing he noticed was the yard. If you could even call it a yard. A look of mild horror at the state of it crossed his face before Theo could school his expression back to something more neutral. “Oh, wow! I—the house looks great!” He said, because it did. The house. Not anything outside of it. 

#jamie #i hope this works!!!! #trying this again #I SWEAR TO GOD IF THEY FUCK THIS ONE UP lol

[alexanderlightweight]

Hello!

It's pretty common for you to touch on how...unhealthy Alec's relationship with his siblings/clary can be so going off that...

Jace/Izzy/Clary over step malec boundaries (maybe alec tells them to stop coming to magnus for every magical want/need, or that they have to go through official means/pay him and J/I/C not only ignore him but something bad comes from it or whatever) and it has*long term consequences.* "Actions have consequences and, sometimes, those consequences are permanent" is my absolute favorite

Sorry if this is too long or too specific

Hey no this was fine and good and fun to write, my bf is going to make a list of guidelines and the dos and don’ts for prompts so people don’t have to guess and worry so much.

I hope this works for what you wanted

—

“I manipulated the Institute database so that you’re no longer a part of the investigation.” Alec says, his body locked and ridged in the corner of Magnus’ balcony.

“Alexander,” Magnus finds himself growling and then he’s unexpectedly interrupted—

“Magnus, I didn’t do it because I think you need to prove yourself or I think I’m doing you a favor and covering up something. I did it because I need to tell you something and the last thing you need to worry about are clave officials knocking on your door and bothering you.”

“The clave wants to chip downworlders.” Alec bites out, and his gaze is distant and pointedly avoiding Magnus’ own eyes. “And Jace agreed to it.” Magnus watches as Alexander stares at where their hands are tangled together.

“I asked for your hair earlier because I panicked and I knew you were innocent and I wanted you out of the claves' crosshairs, because I knew they’d target you. In what they consider revenge for my defilement.”

Alexander takes a deep breath and moves closer, “but I miscalculated and I didn’t take your feelings into consideration. I should never have made a choice, any choice, on your behalf before talking to you first. You had every right to be upset at my failure to communicate earlier, but I find I can’t give you the space you deserve if I want to stay with you.

“I’m going to break ties with the institute and the clave. I can’t in good conscience, as someone who loves you, be a part of an organization that would treat you as chattel or bait.” Alexander gives a tired sigh, “you know, I knew I couldn’t depend on Jace’s morals versus his grandmother's approval. But I did think and trust that he’d make the selfish choice for my sake, as his parabatai. Especially after everything with Clary.”

Alec heaves a deep sigh, “but it turns out I couldn’t even trust him with the man I love. Magnus this isn’t something I can pretend never happened. I’ve been too soft on him but this goes beyond a teachable moment. Actions have consequences and sometimes, those consequences are permanent.

“I will no longer be an attaché of the nephilim ranks. I will instead devote my skills and knowledge to whatever cause you point me to. Whatever will help protect you.”

#shadowhunters #magnus bane #alec lightwood #malec #immortal husbands #writing wednesdays #writing wednesday #words are a weapon and i do with them what i can #anon prompt #prompt fill #prompt fic #anon reply #my fanfics #my fics #my ficlets #lumine writes

[streamsofstardust]

safe & sound | d.r.w x s.f.k

danny wagner x sam kiszka

word count: 8,315

content warnings: descriptions of violence, detailed descriptions of murder as a means to survive, severe depression, nightmares, danny is Not Okay, self isolation, attempt at suicide, sam has the biggest heart, tons of angst…. like so much angst and sadness, sam is reactive and hot headed but he feels bad about it, happy gay endings

summary: 5 years after the winning the hunger games, danny has moved on to a new life, one where he gets the creative freedom to create music in a band with sam, jake, and josh. but for danny, being outside the arena doesn't mean the fight is over.

a/n: so this came from a concept karou lovingly shared with me recently. we're both obsessed with it and i had so many ideas popping into my head when we talked about it that i decided to write something to go along with a specific part. I'm kind of in love with it and it might be in my top five favorite fics that i've written

that said, this fic is genuinely one of the saddest, most intense things i've ever written and i cannot stress this enough but if you're not comfortable with depictions of suicidal ideation or suicide attempts, PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS.

Moving into a shared residence in the Capitol was moderately unsettling. Most of the people Danny encountered only saw him as the unlikely and unexpected champion. He didn’t feel like he’d won anything, sometimes even wishing he hadn’t made it so far. But there he was, in a new home with new people who only vaguely knew of what he’d gone through. The Kiszkas had spent an eternity together, one never knowing life without the other two by his side.

They hadn't been thrown into the Games.

They didn't have blood on their hands.

If Danny was closed off, more reserved, and quieter than the other three, it was because he no longer had a proper sense of how to just exist. He no longer knew how to truly interact with other people; he hadn’t for a few years now. It turned out murdering five people while they were unable to defend themselves had that effect. He tried to be normal, tried his hardest to go back to the fun, extroverted man he was before the Games. This proved to be extremely challenging.

Danny hoped one day someone would be able to bring him back to the world of the living. That one day someone would hear his story and understand he had no choice. That they wouldn't praise him for being a victor, but rather console him for what he had to do to get there. That they’d understand how hollow he’d become.

He hoped one day someone would be the reason his smile wasn't forced or fake. The reason he could feel whole again.

Most nights, Danny never tried to fall asleep. Sleep meant subconscious thoughts would come to the surface, visions of the horrible things he endured, the horrible things he did. He protected himself in that arena, saved his own life during the Games, but at what cost? He hadn't known peace since the night he left home.

When he sleeps he dreams and when he dreams, the nightmares replay. He’ll never forget it: the feel, the smell - metallic and horrendously pungent - of blood on his hands. How the warm, red liquid seeped into his clothing, trailed down his arms, splattered on his face. He had sat in the carnage for longer than he wanted to. While his brain had told him to run, to flee as fast as he could, his body was immobile. And so, the image of the bodies, the lives he took, resided permanently in his tortured mind. Danny saw it as instantaneous karma, as if the world was saying “you committed this atrocity, and now you’ll suffer the consequences.”

None of this had been shared with his new cohorts. Bandmates. Brothers.

– – 

A long day of band practice left Danny feeling drained, more so than usual. He loved playing and he enjoyed every minute he spent with the Kiszkas, but still, he was tired and ready to retreat to his bedroom - to solitude - for another night of restless sleep plagued by never ending loops of nightmares. Ones he could never truly wake up from because he’d actually lived through them. 

The Kiszkas rarely questioned why he constantly rejected their offers to hang out after practice. It wasn’t personal, he’d made that abundantly clear, but despite five years having passed, he still wasn’t comfortable letting his guard completely down. He was in the band out of obligation. Not that he would give up the opportunity, the freedom creating art gave him, but it wasn’t as though he’d volunteered to be thrust into the spotlight. He was thankful his drum kit remained at the back of the stage, out of direct light, furthest away from any crowd they performed for.

So, as he typically did, Danny went to his room and shut the door, not bothering to turn on any lights. He stripped out of his clothing, save for his boxer briefs, and climbed into bed. He still hadn’t gotten used to the comfort of it. How lavish it was compared to what he grew up with. There were many things he wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to. Every day that passed was one he had to force himself not to fear.

It wasn’t particularly late, maybe around 11:30 at night, and he knew the others would likely be awake until 2:00 am at the very least. Even then, they’d be asleep before Danny. Tonight, though, he felt especially tired. As he crawled under his comforter, he found himself repeating the same motions he did every night: reminding himself of the times before the arena.

He recalled sitting by the fire with his father, listening to him recount stories of brave warriors who saved lives and slayed monstrous beasts. He thought of his sister, how they’d run around as children catching fireflies and picking flowers to decorate their house. And he thought of his mother and her sweet smile that lit up every room she walked into. He thought of the times he and his sister would help their mother cook meals, taking notes for each recipe to one day do the same with their own children. He thought of nights where the four of them would gather in the living room, staying warm by the fire and just enjoying each other's company.

Slowly, he felt the calm wash over him and his body gave into the slumber it so badly desired. 

Then, against his will, he was struck with the cruel reminder of how the three most important people in his life were mercilessly slaughtered for protesting Danny being selected to represent their district in the Games. He gasped as his eyes shot open, trying his hardest to catch his breath and calm his furiously beating heart. A stray tear fell from his right eye, the salty water feeling like fire on his skin. He quickly wiped it away, sniffling and shaking his head before closing his eyes.

That was another piece of information the Kiszkas didn’t know. Another look into his troubled mind and traumatized existence that he kept to himself.

Once more, he tried to calm himself down, and eventually he was able to fall asleep. It was peaceful for a moment, no dreams whatsoever, and that rarely happened. Of course, though, it didn’t last - it never did. 

Suddenly he found himself back in the arena, just barely 16, wide eyed and nervous, having no idea how he’d possibly survive. His training scores were embarrassing, but he was tall, naturally muscular, and incredibly broad. His facial features had him standing apart from the others in a way that brought him more attention than he’d ever experienced before, and then it didn’t matter how poor his scores were; the public adored him, dubbing him their favored gentle giant. 

It was that persona that allowed him to fly under the radar when the Games began. He hadn’t made any attempts at finding allies, instead focusing on merely staying alive as long as he possibly could. On the seventh night, he began noticing a distinct flower appearing around the arena- henbane. A beautiful and deceiving plant that had killed off several of his family’s livestock. He backed away from the plants, having no desire to fall victim to its effects. 

He found a place to hide and looked around at his opponents. At that point there were only five others left, and they’d gotten far because of their alliances. He watched the tributes huddle together in an open space not too far away from him, staring in wonder as they fell into states of delirium and hallucinations from the henbane that surrounded them, eventually passing out on the ground. 

Danny was familiar with the deep state of unconsciousness henbane caused. He knew there was little that would wake them up, and most, if not all of them, would fall into comas they’d never wake up from. It was too easy to take advantage of, so he did.

He quietly stalked over to the group, careful to avoid the poisonous plant, and reached for a dagger that had fallen from the hand of a tribute from District 2. The metal felt heavy in his hand, but the knowledge of what he had to do with the weapon weighed heavier on his mind. Back home, he’d helped his father kill cattle, but that was a necessity - a means to survive. 

Then again, he figured this, too, would be a necessity. Without giving himself another moment to reconsider his choice, he walked up to each of the sleeping tributes and slit their throats with the stolen dagger. Blood sprayed everywhere, covering his hands, his clothes, his face.

When he was done, and all five tributes were dead, Danny stood up and looked at bodies below him. He was shaking, barely able to catch a breath, and he felt tremendously dizzy. All he could smell was blood, and he felt sick. He wasn’t sure how much time passed while he stood there, completely immobile. In the distant parts of his brain, parts that were still able to process his surroundings, he heard the Canon go off. Each boom signifying the death of a tribute.

He had won. It was over.

But like it did most nights, the dream restarted, eventually only replaying the moment the blade in Danny’s hand sliced through the still warm flesh of those five tributes. It was too much, too much, too violent, too real too real too real too-

“DANNY!”

His eyes shot open, adjusting to the darkness of the room and witnessing Sam’s terrified face.

He wasn’t able to respond yet, his brain still replaying scenes from the Games. His mouth was dry and his eyes were frantically moving around the room as he attempted to ground himself with familiar sights.

Sam was hovering over him, one of his hands gripping Danny’s right upper arm. His entire body felt overheated, but somehow, the warmth of Sam’s hand felt different. A completely separate warmth. 

“Sam? What are you - How did you get in my room? Why are you here?” He didn’t mean to come off sounding so harsh; Sam certainly didn’t deserve any attitude from him.

“I woke up to the sound of you screaming. I didn’t even realize it was you at first, but when I did I rushed over. Your door wasn’t locked so I- I came in and,” His words trailed off as he took in Danny’s appearance. His curls were a mess around his head, the bags under his eyes were incredibly prominent, and there were beads of sweat slowly dripping down Danny’s tanned, bare torso. He stopped himself from looking at that part of his friend any longer; he needed to focus.

“Dan, you were thrashing around like a fish out of water, screaming bloody murder.”

Danny physically recoiled at Sam’s words. He had no idea how accurate they were, but Danny wasn’t about to tell him.

“I’m fine, Sam. Go back to your room.” Danny turned away from him, grabbing his blankets and pulling them up to cover his upper body, despite feeling like he was about to melt from the heat. 

“You’re clearly not fine. You know this isn’t the first time I’ve heard you, right? The twins might be too far away in their rooms, but I’m right next to you, and I’m not deaf. I know you don’t want to tell us about what happened, you know, back- back then, and you don’t have to, but at least let me be there for you.” 

Sam still hadn’t moved from Danny’s bed, and he had no intention of doing so anytime soon. He cared about the drummer more than he could put into words, and had for as long as he’d known him. And sure, maybe they’d only personally known each other for about a year, but Sam knew he was something special when he found out Danny won the Games. Admiration quickly turned into adoration, and feelings he wasn’t familiar with blossomed too fast for him to take a second to question them. The twins knew how Sam felt, but Danny didn’t, and given what could be at risk if the truth came out, they kept that information to themselves. They’d made that same decision when Josh had come out to him and Jake years prior. 

So no, Danny wasn’t fine, and no, Sam wasn’t going to leave him alone. He had too much love in his heart to walk away from someone he cared so deeply for. He still hadn’t received a response from Danny, and he nudged him, hoping to get his attention. When that accomplished nothing, his first thought was Danny had somehow fallen asleep again. He then realized he knew better, him and the twins being well aware of how little sleep their drummer got on a nightly basis, so instead, he mustered all the strength he had and rolled Danny onto his back.

Danny’s eyes stayed closed, but Sam watched as tears trailed down his face, into his unruly curls. He reached forward, softly wiping away the tears and cradling Danny’s left cheek in his hand. It was that touch that prompted Danny to finally open his eyes, and when he did, Sam felt his heart shatter.

“Oh, Dan…” Sam whispered. He felt tears of his own forming in his eyes, not able to help the reaction he had to seeing his friend in such a state.

“I don’t want to talk about it Sam, I can’t- I-” Danny found it hard to fully put into words what he wanted to say, stuttering over each one that managed to spill out of his mouth. 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to. You don’t have to tell me anything, okay? I’m not going to push, Dan, I promise. If you want to be alone, I can g-”

“Wait!” Danny’s hand wrapped around Sam’s wrist as the bassist moved to stand up. “N- no. I-” He couldn’t bring himself to ask the question lingering on his mind, only letting out a soft “please?”

Danny looked up at Sam through his long, dark lashes. He’d stopped crying, but the red hue surrounding his hazel irises burned. He dropped his head and rubbed his eyes with his free hand, the other still firmly holding onto Sam.

When Sam looked at where Danny held him, his chest constricted. He didn’t need to ask Sam to stay, he would’ve made that decision on his own unless Danny explicitly demanded he leave. But in his own way, Danny did ask. Sam understood what that one word meant. He nodded, sitting back down on the bed before laying fully on top of the blankets. He didn’t want to risk Danny being uncomfortable when both of them were barely dressed. 

Danny, however, wasn’t ready to settle for that. 

“Sam?” He called out, his voice hardly above a whisper.

“Yeah?”

“I know this might sound weird, but can you… can you hold me? You can say no, it’s fine if you do I wouldn’t blame you, but I just feel like I need-”

“Daniel, calm down. It’s not weird, come here.”

Sam fully expected Danny to turn his back to him, letting the bassist’s chest press against the soft skin, but he didn’t. He faced Sam, looking up at him for a brief moment before curling into his chest, one of his arms wrapping around Sam’s slim torso as he breathed in the familiar scent that was so unmistakably Sam Kiszka. Sam wrapped his arms fully around Danny, one of his hands coming up to cradle his head and gently play with his hair.

“Try to go back to sleep, Dan. I’m not going anywhere.” Sam spoke softly, fighting the urge to place a kiss to the top of Danny’s head. The drummer nodded in lieu of a verbal response, his arm pulling Sam even closer to his body.

– –

When they woke up, Sam noticed a few things. The first being that he was no longer holding Danny. At some point in the night, they’d switched positions, and now Danny’s muscular arms were wrapped around Sam’s body as they spooned. The second thing he noticed was that he was under the blankets, something he had no recollection of doing before he fell asleep. And while that wasn’t very alarming to him, what was was the fact that his bare body - save for a pair of shorts that could arguably be deemed too short - was pressed entirely against Danny’s bare body. Not only was every inch of them touching, their legs were tangled together, another thing Sam had no memory of happening. 

He smiled, his heart fluttering in his half awake state. 

Danny was still asleep, and when Sam looked over at the clock, he saw just how late in the day it was. He’d gone into Danny’s room around 2 am, and now it was the afternoon. Danny had slept for ten straight hours, and Sam couldn’t help but feel rather proud of himself for being the reason why. 

At least, he assumed he was the reason. He didn’t let himself think too far into that one. 

As much as he wanted to let Danny sleep more, he knew they had practice in a few hours, and Danny would definitely want to shower off the sweat that coated his body. He did, however, give himself a few more minutes to enjoy the feeling of Danny’s body encasing his own before waking him up. 

– –

Practice ran smoothly, as it typically did. Josh had presented a few new songs, and all of the guys loved the lyrics. He had a way with words that Danny envied and a power to tell stories like no other. Sometimes Danny wondered if he could take his past and put it to music, but then he’d be opening himself up in ways he never had, and that terrified him. For the time being, he decided to stick to keeping it all to himself.

Neither Danny nor Sam had talked about the night they spent together, especially ignoring the subject of how they woke up. Danny was a bit surprised to find out how long he’d slept, as well as by the position the two had ended up in at some point in their parallel unconsciousness. Yet, at the same time, he wasn’t. He’d always found Sam to be comforting, and he gravitated towards that feeling, chasing it as quickly as he ran from the demons that haunted his mind. 

Danny figured if Sam was bothered by it, he would’ve said something, and he probably would’ve removed himself from Danny’s grip, but he didn’t. That fact made Danny’s heart race, wondering if Sam had picked up on the feelings Danny had for him that he’d tried his hardest to keep hidden. He wondered, too, if Sam could possibly feel the same, but he wasn’t in the business of allowing his hopes to get too high.

Jake’s voice snapped him out of his train of thought. 

“Hey Danny, do you wanna help me with these riffs?” 

– –

That night, he gave in to the Kiszka’s persistent begging to join them for a few drinks in the living room. They all seemed shocked that he agreed to stay and hang out with them for once, and he didn’t miss the smile on Sam’s face upon hearing Danny say “okay.”

The more they drank, the more Danny felt himself loosen up. He’d taken one side of a couch, letting Sam drape his long legs over his lap without thinking twice. It was actually nice, spending time with the Kiszkas. So nice, in fact, that for a moment he felt guilty for not doing it more often. 

Apparently nothing killed a nice buzz quite like overwhelming guilt.

“I think I’m gonna head upstairs, get some sleep. Thanks for tonight, guys.” Danny spoke as he lifted Sam’s legs before placing them back down on the couch. Understanding how little socializing Danny regularly partook in, no one pushed him to stay longer, all three brothers being thankful he stayed as long as he had. 

Sam looked up at him with a questioning glance, one Danny wasn’t able to decipher the meaning of, so he didn’t try harder to. He figured the alcohol would help him fall asleep, and as tempting as it was to drink himself into oblivion and pass out face down on his mattress, he opted against that idea. He’d tried that a few times in the past; it never made him feel any better and it did nothing to keep the nightmares away. So really, there was no point.

It was a bit colder than usual that evening, so Danny threw on a pair of soft flannel pajama pants - still leaving his torso bare - and crawled into bed, his head feeling just the slightest bit fuzzy from the drinks he’d consumed. 

For a moment, he allowed himself to think back to the prior night, specifically Sam in his bed. It was the first time they’d intentionally shared a bed, and while it could’ve been awkward, it just felt… right. Part of him wanted to ask Sam to sleep with him, but perhaps that was pushing it. He still had no idea how Sam felt about everything. About him.

Eventually he was able to fall asleep, though, as expected, it didn’t last. Once again he was tormented by his memories on a loop, and once again, he was woken up by Sam shaking him.

“Dan…” Sam sounded just as out of breath as Danny was.

“Was I screaming again?” His voice cracked ever so slightly as he spoke, already knowing the answer to his question.

Sam simply nodded, trying his hardest to hold back his own emotions. He wanted so badly for Danny to tell him what was causing the nightmares. While he knew it was related to Danny’s time in the arena, he had a feeling there was so much more to it, and even though he knew he could look up the answers for himself, he refused to. If Danny wasn’t going to openly share the information, Sam wasn’t going to go behind his back to find it. He had way too much respect for his friend.

Danny’s hands wiped over his own face, pushing his curls away from where they’d plastered to his skin from sweating so much. 

“Sam, can you-”

“Of course. You don’t have to ask.” 

Sam crawled into bed with Danny, this time intentionally laying under the blankets. He stayed on his back, and as Danny curled into him, Sam stared at the ceiling, his own thoughts racing. He felt Danny shiver, but his body was warm. A single tear fell from Danny’s eye onto Sam’s chest and he pulled Danny closer into his body.

“I’m sorry Sam.” 

Sam took a deep breath, not out of annoyance, but because he was frustrated. Frustrated that someone he cared about was struggling, and there was little he could do outside of holding him. He hoped it was enough, at least for now.

“Get some sleep, Danny. I’m right here.”

– –

The same thing happened every night for the next two weeks.

Danny didn’t understand why his nightmares kept getting worse, more persistent. He didn’t understand why nothing kept them away. And he didn’t understand why Sam’s presence was the only thing that relaxed him enough to sleep through the rest of the night.

After a few days, Sam stopped going to his room to sleep. He assumed he’d end up in Danny’s room anyway, so that’s where he started. If the circumstances were different, he might appreciate it a bit more, having Danny wrapped around him and vice versa - which was how they always woke up. 

The twins caught Sam and Danny walking out of the latter’s room one morning and while Danny was rubbing sleep from his eyes, Jake and Josh gave Sam questioning looks. Sam said nothing, he just shook his head as a clear nonverbal response he knew his brother’s would understand: Don’t ask.

During that two week period, there were only two nights that Danny didn’t wake up screaming in a cold sweat, though they weren’t consecutive. His nightmares still attacked his unconscious mind, but for those two days, he’d wake up startled rather than terrified to his core. He knew it wasn’t an indication that things were getting better, that would be much too naive of a thought. Danny knew the severity of nightmares would inevitably return, and he was proven right when they did. 

There were nights where he tried to stay up as late as possible to avoid sleeping at all, something Sam quickly caught onto and gently reprimanded him for. Everyone could see how tired Danny was, how detached from reality he was. It had gotten to the point where it was impacting his ability to play. He missed cues, played the wrong notes, or sometimes forgot what to play all together. 

Jake had gotten annoyed for the slightest moment, but immediately backed off when he saw the state Danny was in. Sam was thankful Jake was relatively perceptive. If his older brother hadn’t stopped, he was positive he would’ve jumped over Josh to strangle Jake with the cord plugged into his bass.

Danny felt the shift in himself, too. He recognized things were getting worse for him mentally, and though he was aware he could’ve asked for help, he didn’t. It wasn’t like him to open up that much, not even to Sam. The rational part of his brain told him he was making a mistake, that nothing would get better unless he finally talked to someone about what was troubling him. But then he felt like all his confession would do was burden the Kiszkas, and he couldn’t let that happen. 

But he was tired. So incredibly, painfully tired, in more ways than one, and it had gotten to the point where he could no longer handle it. He just wanted it all to stop. He missed his family, his life before the Games. He missed feeling normal. And as much as he enjoyed Sam’s nightly company in his bed - perhaps a bit more than he wanted to admit - he hated that he’d become moderately dependent on it. 

If he was honest, he was ready for all of it to end. He knew it was dramatic, he knew he would hurt people, but what about the hurt he felt? He couldn’t take it anymore. It had to stop.

– –

That night as Sam crawled into bed with Danny, he noticed his friend was fully dressed for once, not an inch of bare skin to be found. He frowned a bit at that, having gotten used to feeling Danny’s warm skin pressed against his own, but he chose not to speak on it. He also noticed how silent and closed off Danny had been. Even when he was quiet when the four of them were together, he at least spoke a bit more the moment the two of them were alone. He was tired, that’s all it was. Sam tried to push away the idea that Danny was sick of him being there; that he wasn’t pulling away despite how much it felt like he was.

Then there was another difference.

“Hey Sam?”

“Hmm?”

Danny rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous tick of his that Sam had picked up on. He was struggling to look at Sam as he spoke, and his words sounded quieter than usual.

“You know how we- when we fall asleep, you’re the one holding me?” Sam nodded, waiting for him to continue. “Can we- can I- just this once-”

Sam smiled at his friend, knowing exactly what Danny was trying and struggling to say. “You want to hold me, Dan? Wanna be the big spoon this time?” 

Danny could tell Sam was making an effort to lighten his spirits. He appreciated it, but it was making everything that much harder. He forced himself to crack the smallest smile. Sam had told him in the past he loved Danny’s crooked smile, and he thought about that compliment daily. 

“Yeah, if that’s okay.”

“Of course it’s okay. Come on over, I’m a bit chilly and you’re basically the human equivalent of a space heater.” Sam joked.

Danny waited for Sam to shuffle closer to him before wrapping his arms around him and holding him as tight as he could. He wouldn’t be able to do this again if he followed his impulses.

“Woah! You know I’m not gonna run away, right?” Sam was taken aback by the grip Danny had on his body, but had no intention of moving. He thought about turning around to tell Danny exactly how he felt about him, but with the hold Danny had, it was impossible to move.

Danny ignored the joke his friend made, burying his face into Sam’s long, chestnut locks. He breathed in the scent that he’d gotten so used to, the scent that was so unequivocally Sam, the one that brought him the faintest sense of peace. He thought back to the first night Sam came to wake him up, to protect him from the things only Danny could see - he still hadn’t asked Danny to explain what caused his nightmares. Danny thought about how quick Sam was to be there for him no matter what. He thought about how often he’d catch Sam staring at him with nothing but love and adoration in his eyes, though at first he was convinced he was imagining it.

He thought about how much he loved Sam, the boy who had so rapidly gone from a stranger to his best friend. 

He wanted to tell Sam exactly what was on his mind, at least when it came to his feelings, and even though he knew it would be his one and only chance to do it, he was too afraid. He squeezed Sam closer to him and hoped it would be enough.

“Goodnight, Sammy.” Danny spoke into Sam’s hair.

The bassist sighed tiredly, already being in the middle between sleep and consciousness.

“G’night Dan.” His words were slurred as they fell from his plump lips. “Love you.”

Danny’s eyes widened at his friend’s confession. Sam… loved him? No, he- as a friend, that’s all. Sam didn’t know major parts of who Danny was. He couldn’t actually… no. No way. 

He could feel Sam’s breath even out, this being one of the rare times he fell asleep before Danny. The drummer was thankful for that; it gave him an opportunity to appreciate Sam as much as he wanted. He’d miss him the most. He’d miss all the guys, but Sam… Sam would always be special.

After an hour of holding Sam, slowly trailing one of his hands up and down the smooth skin of Sam’s arm, Danny felt himself falling asleep. He so badly wanted to avoid it, to force himself to stay awake, but it was impossible. Even on nights where he didn’t wake up screaming, he still woke up from nightmares, and sometimes that movement didn’t wake Sam. This was one of those nights.

Against his will, Danny fell asleep. He wasn’t unconscious for long, maybe under an hour, but his nightmares once again wormed their way into his mind, and he woke suddenly with a gasp, struggling to take a breath. Instead of being scared, he was frustrated. He was so sick of being unable to sleep, unable to function the way Sam, Jake, and Josh did. He was officially done suffering.

Danny was still holding Sam, who was sound asleep. He carefully maneuvered his body away from Sam’s, trying his hardest to make sure he didn’t wake up. When he was successful, he stood up and walked around to the other side of the bed to face Sam. 

He knelt down, letting himself remember every detail of Sam’s face: His soft, plush lips, his smooth skin, the two small freckles on his left cheek. He brought one of his hands forward, gently lifting away a collection of stray hairs that had fallen over Sam’s face. Danny always believed Sam to be effortlessly beautiful. It was the first thing he noticed when they met, and that belief hadn’t changed. 

Tears formed in his eyes, threatening to spill over. He gently played with Sam’s hair, forcing himself to remember how soft it felt threading through his fingers. The longer he stared at his friend, the harder it was to keep the tears from flowing, and so they fell freely down Danny’s own freckled cheeks.

He stood up, placing one single, lingering kiss on Sam’s forehead. He whispered as quietly as he could.

“I love you too. I’m sorry, Sammy. I’m so, so sorry.”

Danny walked out of his room and into the bathroom down the hall, not bothering to lock the door; Sam was sound asleep, it wasn’t necessary. 

He sat on the edge of the bathtub, his head in his hands, and thought about his next move. He hadn’t really given much thought as to how to achieve his goal, and now that it was time, he wasn’t sure what to do. He thought about everything that was kept in the medicine cabinet. There were razors for them all to shave, save for Josh, who had insisted on growing out his facial hair. There was also an abundance of painkillers and sleeping pills, both prescriptions, the former for Jake’s left forearm and the latter, for Danny. He avoided them as much as possible, so the bottle was essentially full. 

He took it out and placed the bottle on the counter, staring at it as if it would do something for him on its own. Part of Danny expected that he’d be anxious about taking his own life, that when the time came, he’d be in a complete state of panic, but he wasn’t. He had no more fight left in him.

After filling a glass with water, Danny spilled the pills out of the bottle and into a pile on the granite. Twenty four pills would be more than enough. Once again, he found himself staring at them, hoping he wouldn’t have to be the one to make the final move. But the pills couldn’t do anything if he didn’t consume them, so he swept a quarter of them into the palm of his left hand, his right hand gripping the glass of water, the appendage shaking ever so slightly. 

He took a few deep breaths, feeling tears drop from his eyes again. He hadn’t even realized he started crying. Before he continued, he allowed himself to think back to happier times again, just as he did every night before falling asleep. That’s all he was doing - falling asleep.

He thought about his father’s warm hugs, his mother’s smile, his sister’s laugh. He thought about fireflies and cool summer nights with skies full of stars. He thought about spiced tea, crisp apples, and sweet pastries. All of the things he wished he appreciated more while he had the chance.

He thought about Sam.

It was the thought of leaving Sam that had his tears begin streaming down his face, but he forced himself to stay quiet. The last thing he wanted was Sam to wake up and see what he was doing. Slowly, he lifted his hand to drop the pills into his mouth. As he moved the glass of water to his lips, the door to the bathroom opened, and his head whipped in its direction.

“Dan, are you in here? I saw the light and- what the fuck?” Sam had been rubbing his eyes when he walked into the bathroom, not immediately seeing the scene before him. Once he did, he felt more awake than he had in a while, shutting the door behind him and fighting the urge to yell. He looked down and saw the remainder of the pills on the counter, finally putting two and two together, before ripping the glass out of Danny’s hand. “Danny fucking- christ, spit them out, now!” 

After a moment of hesitancy, a moment Sam believed to be way too long, the bassist repeated his demand. 

“Daniel, I swear if you don’t spit them out I’ll pry them out of your mouth myself.” He sounded angry, he knew that, but he was terrified and appalled and he couldn’t focus on sounding calm. He’d worry about that once he knew Danny was safe.

Danny complied, spitting the six pills into the garbage by his feet. He backed away from the sink and sat back down on the tub’s ledge, refusing to lift his face to see Sam’s face.

The two were silent for a few minutes, Danny not having any idea what to say and Sam having too many thoughts flooding his brain to know which ones to verbalize. Sam started pacing in the enclosed space, his hands tugging at his hair as he worked to form a sentence.

“What were you thinking? When did you even leave your room? You waited until I was asleep? You fucking- what, you were just going to kill yourself while I slept soundly in your bed? That was your plan? God, Danny what the fuck?!” He took a breath before continuing. “Is that why you wanted to hold me tonight? Is that why you were holding me so god damn tight? Because you thought it would be the last time you’d be able to? And what, you figured at some point I’d just find you lying cold on the bathroom floor? Or that Jake or Josh would? That’s why you were wearing actual pajamas tonight, isn’t it? Don’t answer that. Don’t fucking answer any of that, just… Danny what the fuck?”

At some point, Sam had started crying too, but Danny still hadn’t lifted his head to look at his friend, his own tears falling into his lap. Sam continued talking.

“You called me Sammy. You never call me that I- I should’ve known something was wrong. I should’ve-”

Danny figured it was the right time to speak up, not wanting Sam to start blaming himself for anything.

“Sam, I’m sorry. I didn’t -”

“You’re sorry? You’re sorry?!” Danny could see the rage in his friend’s eyes. “You were just going to leave me like that? Leave all of us? I know things have been hard for you and I get it but-”

“No you don’t!” Danny’s voice was raised, louder than he wanted it to be. “You have no idea what I’ve dealt with, no idea what I went through, what I’ve been going through for the past five years. You have no fucking idea how hard it is.”

“Because you don’t tell me anything! You never want to talk about it and I never push you because while I don’t know the details, I know it must have been horrific, and the last thing I wanted was to force you to relive any of that. But I can’t fucking help you the way you need to be helped if you won’t let me in.”

Danny scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “I don’t need your help, Sam.”

Sam’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head and Danny’s words. “Really? You don’t need my help? Look at where keeping everything bottled up got you, Daniel. You were trying to kill yourself. You were… oh my god.” Sam fell to his knees and buried his face in his hands as he sobbed. “You were going to leave me. You- you can’t leave me Dan, you can’t just-”

Danny moved to kneel in front of his friend, quickly pulling him into his arms. Sam was right, Danny couldn’t leave him. Hearing Sam’s cracking voice snapped him out of whatever trance had brought him to that bathroom in the first place. All he could do was apologize over and over, hoping that Sam would believe him. 

The two cried while holding each other, both shocked that the twins hadn’t heard any of the commotion. Sam thought about telling Danny the rest of what he was thinking, about how he loved him. Danny was considering the same thing, but neither of them spoke. After a while, Danny pulled away and stood up, reaching down for Sam to grab his hand.

“Let’s go.”

Sam wiped his face and looked up, grabbing Danny’s hand and standing along with him. “Where?”

Danny opened the door and turned the bathroom light off, walking into the hallway with a tight grip on Sam’s right hand. “Back to my room. Back to bed.”

– –

Neither of them spoke as they entered Danny’s room, nor as they got into bed. Danny knew he had a lot of explaining to do, but he also knew Sam likely wouldn’t push him to start talking. He appreciated that fact, feeling as though he at least needed one night before spilling all of his secrets. Rather than stay in his pajamas, Danny stripped down like he normally would, his body feeling much too hot from the anxiety and adrenaline coursing through his veins. There was also the fact that he desperately craved the comfort of having Sam’s bare skin against his own.

But he didn’t wrap his arms back around Sam, choosing instead to wait for his friend to make the first move. He didn’t know if Sam wanted space or if he’d shove Danny off of him out of frustration the second he was holding him. Sam did, in fact, make the first move, and faster than Danny expected. He threw himself onto Danny, burying his face in the space between Danny’s neck and shoulder while his long arms wrapped around the drummer’s upper body. His legs once again found themselves tangled with Danny’s, and he did what he could to ensure all of his body was touching all of Danny’s. 

It was his attempt at being as close as humanly possible. His own way of comforting himself and ensuring Danny was there; that he was still warm and breathing.

“Dan, I’m not gonna ask you to go into detail about everything, you know, that prompted you to do… that. But I just want to know why. What made that become the most desirable option for you?” Sam felt like he was skating on the thinnest ice imaginable as he spoke. He didn’t want to risk saying something that would set Danny off or make him spiral, but he needed an answer.

He felt Danny take a deep breath, his chest rising from under Sam’s hold. 

“I was tired, Sam. I am tired. Always so fucking tired. I can’t focus, can’t relax, can’t do anything and I couldn’t keep living like that. So I just… decided I wouldn’t anymore. All of the shit in my head, the memories… fuck, Sam, the things that I did. It’s impossible to deal with. I know it’s stupid and I know you’re probably mad at me and I really am sorry.”

Danny didn’t want to cry again, he wasn’t even sure he had anymore tears left to cry, but he could feel his chest constricting as if he was about to. That was another thing he was tired of - crying. 

“Danny, I’m not mad. I mean, I was at first I think, but more than anything I was just scared. I didn’t - I don’t - want to lose you. I don’t think my heart could take a loss like that.” Sam shut his eyes, taking a breath of his own to relax his mind before speaking again, scared but ready to confess. “I love you too much to survive losing you. The second I realized what was going on I swear I felt my heart shatter. Just the very idea that you’d even consider… Danny, it wouldn’t have fixed anything. Maybe the nightmares would stop for you, but what about me? The twins? The hole you’d leave if you…” He shook his head, not wanting to utter the remaining words of that thought. “No one could ever fill that space, Dan. Not in the house, not in the band, not in my heart. You need to understand that.”

If Danny was shocked by what Sam said, he did his best to not make it obvious. He liked to imagine at times that maybe his feelings for Sam weren’t one sided, but with no strength to actually tell him, he figured he’d never find out the truth. But Sam loved him. Sam loved him. He said the words clear as day, and for the first time in a long time, Danny felt a twinge of happiness. He shifted his body, nudging Sam to sit up with him.

Before he could respond, Sam spoke again.

“Please don’t freak out over what I just said. I know maybe it’s crazy and I know you’re going to say I don’t know you well enough to love you, but I do-”

“Sam.”

“I do love you. And it’s not pity or some overreaction to what I just saw, so don’t say that either because I know you would-”

“Sam.”

“I can’t help it okay, I love you and I’ve been dying to tell you for so long and if you don’t feel the same it’s fine, okay, I’ll get over it but-”

Danny couldn’t help but roll his eyes and grab Sam’s face with both of his hands, surging forward to kiss him with everything he had. It wasn’t like the movies, where fireworks go off and everything is right in the world - because truly, most things in Danny’s life were not right - but it was still perfect. 

Once Sam moved beyond the initial shock of Danny’s lips capturing his own, he kissed him back, both of them pouring every emotion into the action. The hand that Sam wasn’t leaning on for balance moved up to hold Danny’s bare hip, the skin feeling warm to the touch. Despite how often the two had cuddled, Danny still shivered at the feeling of Sam’s hand on his body.

When they realized they no longer had enough air to continue kissing, they pulled away, one of Danny’s hands remaining on Sam’s cheek, softly rubbing his thumb over those two freckles he never thought he’d see again. Sam’s eyes were wide, as if he was scared that the second he spoke, the bubble would burst and he’d wake up, that everything that was said and done would be a dream. But it wasn’t, and he saw that Danny was staring at him with the same love and adoration Sam had looked at him with. 

Sam opened his mouth to speak, Danny’s name coming out in a hushed squeak. The drummer shook his head. He had too much to say.

“It’s not crazy. You’re not crazy. I didn’t know you felt like that about me. I thought… I thought you might, but I think I convinced myself I was imagining it, that I wasn’t deserving of it. But it’s not one sided, I promise.”

Sam’s mouth felt dry. He repeated Danny’s words in his head five times, ten times, just to make sure he truly heard him correctly. 

“So you-”

“I love you too, Sammy.”

Sam smiled, a real, genuine smile that reached his eyes. But then his brain focused on everything that had occurred that evening and he was confused, hurt. A frown took over his face and his lips quivered as though he might cry again.

“If you loved me, why were you about to leave me? Why would you- you weren’t even going to tell me?”

It was a valid question, but if Danny was being technical, he had told Sam.

“When I realized you were asleep, I did tell you. You muttered it when you were barely conscious, I didn’t even know if you realized you said it, and it was just loud enough for me to hear. I would’ve said it back right then and there but with what I was about to do, it didn’t seem fair to tell you how I felt and then break your heart.” His head hung between the two of them, the realization that he still would’ve broken Sam’s heart anyway hitting him once he finished speaking.

The room was completely silent for a few minutes, both of them processing everything that had been said, everything that had been done. Danny knew he’d have to rip the bandaid off and finally explain to Sam - and the twins - all of the information he’d been withholding, and he knew Sam wouldn’t rest until he did. But that wouldn’t happen tonight, and yet again, Danny found himself thankful for Sam’s ability to let him do things at his own speed.

“I think we should go to sleep.” Danny nodded at Sam’s suggestion. “But before we do,” Sam leaned forward, pressing his lips against Danny’s again. He’d never get tired of the way his stomach flipped at something as simple as kissing his best friend. “Please don’t let things get to that point again, Dan. I need you to talk to me about everything. Promise me you’re not going anywhere.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Sammy. I promise.”

Sam smiled and moved to hug Danny, the drummer’s arms wrapping around his friend’s slimmer body. The two layed back down, tangling their limbs together as they had on previous nights, and with the knowledge that his love for Sam was reciprocated, and the stubborn belief that things had to get better from that point on, Danny finally felt relaxed. 

For the first time in five years, Danny felt his broken pieces begin to merge, slowly but surely making him feel whole.

And for the first time in five years, Danny slept through the night, the demons of his past and his nightmares nowhere in sight.

-- --

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[the-torchwood-archive]

I'm separating this out from the poll because honestly the results are neither here nor there and I want this to be its own post. It's going to be an odd one, so bare with me.

Can I take this opportunity to talk about the actual reason I think that Gwen gets a lot of hate? Coming from someone who spent a good maybe ten years somewhat in the Gwen bash camp and in the past handful of years has had some clarity over it.

The reason people don't like Gwen is that she is narratively immune from consequence. All of the Torchwood team are morally compromised and make bad choices and are made to suffer for it. Gwen, for the most part, is not. This is not a problem with the character Gwen Cooper. This is a problem with her writing. That's where the problem lies. I actually love Gwen. I hate her writing.

Looking at things like her cheating on Rhys. Firstly with James and secondly with Owen. She gets what she needs emotionally, things end, and she stays with Rhys. There are no consequences. Owen sleeps with her and then falls in love with Diane and is framed as the villain.

Torchwood becomes a priority in her life and yet she is still able to maintain enough of a social life to have close friends in her wedding party. There are no consequences. Tosh has Torchwood as her priority and finds it impossible to have a social life.

She thinks with her heart and gets people hurt. She smuggles Suzie out, she gets Rhys shot, she traumatizes Nikki. People get hurt, but it's framed as okay because she means well. There are no consequences.

She pushes against Jack and gets away with it, when Owen gets fired. She brings a third party into the Hub to keep them safe and while he gets killed, it's undone by the end of the episode, while Tosh and Ianto have their loved one die permanently. Torchwood operatives can't have spouses brought into the fold and will be stood down if pregnant, yet she brings Rhys into the fold with no consequences and her pregnancy at the beginning of COE is framed as not being a deal breaker.

I love this messy bitch. They're all messy bitches and if you have one that you single out as being worse than the others, then it's worth taking a look at that. I think that when it comes down to it, it isn't actually the character Gwen Cooper that people find problem with, but the lack of consequences that she faces.

We're a lot better as a fandom these days. The anti-Gwen sentiments have really cooled off. I also think that a lot of that cooling off has come from the newer fans having a wider view of the her character, which stemmed from the handing over of writing duties from the TV crew to the EU crew. The rose coloured glasses of the TV crew have come off and the current writers have gone "okay, her life has been ruined. Let's actually show that fall out. Let's give some consequence". And I think that did wonders for the character.

It's nearly impossible to separate an issue with narrative from an issue with character. The two things are so entwined that you almost can't extract them and that's a shame. Because the character is brilliant and was mishandled by writers who had a boner that lasted for much longer than recommended.

#torchwood #gwen cooper #long post #I hope this doesn't come off as a bash post because it's literally the opposite #I want to kiss BF on the lips for actually giving her grounded writing