#Diamond Harbor Seat

[labrxnth]

Prison Break- Part 2 (Leon Kennedy x Reader series)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

CW: Death Island spoilers (obviously), suicidal thoughts/tendencies

WC: 1858

Summary: You and your field partner Leon continue your search for Doctor Antonio Taylor on Alcatraz

A/N: Sorry This was late, I had a busy schedule and major writer’s block

The first thing you noticed about the harbor is that it smelled like salt. Saltiness and almost a tackiness filled the air as you looked out of the rolled down window. Your hand traced circles on the car seat absentmindedly as you watched the boats and people the car was speeding past.

“What’re you thinking?” Leon asked, his hand drifting dangerously close to yours. When he got to an inch away, he stopped, his hand giving a deadly space between the two. If you were paying full attention, it would’ve made you upset, but for some reason this mission really wasn’t sitting right with you.

Call it survivor’s gut or intuition, but this mission was sitting funky in your stomach.

You took a deep breath and turned your head to face your partner. “I don’t like this… Maria being involved with Taylor means that someone like Arias wants a robotics engineer,” You answered and shifted a bit in your seat.

“I don’t like it either,” Leon replied. The two of you were always good at having each other’s back and making the other one feel validated. That was your whole friendship, being the person that each other needed.

You were the person Leon needed after, well, everything he had gone through. Raccoon City, Project Javier, Los Illuminados and Simmons were hard for him to shoulder alone. His life felt like a dark and foggy hallway, a trail of blood and cynicism following him. But in the midst of everything, you were a light. You were with him through everything for the past few years, carrying a candle filled with your aura that scared off the darkness and the fog in his hallway.

You were the one person who hadn’t run away or died, and he’d like to keep it that way.

He was the one person he hadn’t run away or died, and you would like to keep it that way.

Leon S. Kennedy was an enigma to you when you first started working for the D.S.O. under recommendation from Hunnigan. Through the past few years of working together, the two of you started out as drinking buddies then quickly became actual friends. It was over for you when you looked into his eyes and saw who he truly was for the first time. The mission in New York, the summit, the look on Leon’s face were all seared into your mind. His blue eyes tossing your heart just like a human thrown overboard into a vast ocean.

But you were convinced the look he gave you that night was just for your façade; the role the two of you played. If you never spoke life into your feelings, he never had to reject you.

“You’re doing it again,” Leon’s voice cut through your memories; bringing you back to the streets of San Francisco and dragging you away from the dinner party in New York.

“Huh?” You asked, blinking a few times, trying to adjust to the setting Sun in your eyes.

“Getting lost in that big head of yours,” He replied and chuckled lightly. “You do that more lately…. Ever since that mission in NYC.” His eyes looked at you, almost as if searching for an answer for an unasked question.

“I’ve just been thinking about things,” You said, trying to pass it off as nothing.

“Thinking about…..?” Leon asked, his eyebrows raised.

“Life stuff… like if fighting half dead people and gross science experiments is gonna be the rest of my life,” you said, making an excuse. You didn’t like to lie to Leon, but this one thing you made an exception for. And it was true, sometimes you did think about how your life has taken a turn after college.

Leon hummed in response, looking out his own window. The autumnal setting sun reflected in his eyes and hair, making his irises shine like diamonds and his hair shining a dirty blonde in the rays. When the sun hit him, it was a reminder of who he was, the dirty blonde hair and full blue eyes that he had that night in Raccoon City. He thought that Rookie Cop died that day, but maybe all he needed was a constant sun in his life; someone who brought his hope back.

“Don’t start thinking about that stuff, it’ll drag you down,” he warned. “Trust me.” His voice had an edge to it that you had only heard a few times before. The edge that reflected a tinge of sadness, but resilience.

The car stopped at the dock, you and Leon getting out of the Uber and taking in your surroundings. To the public, the only way to get to Alcatraz was a ferry tour, but luckily the two of you could call in a few favors and pull a few strings.

“Follow me, the boat should be at the Marina.” Leon said. He walked in front of you, making his way towards the docks. With no other option, you walked with him, trying not to look at how his blue shirt hugged his biceps a little too well.

The two of you quickly made your way towards a boat with a big branded D.S.O. logo on it.

“Couldn’t have been more covert?” You asked flatly.

“Gotta warn them before we blow their shit up,” Leon said, half joking. He got in the boat, slinging his duffle bag off his shoulder and putting it on a seat. You climbed on after him and looked around the small speed boat.

“You sure this thing has ballistics?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s American, it can blow something up as long as you try hard enough,” He replied with his shit-eating grin. You chuckled in reply and got into the seat next to him, giving him the chance to drive for once. Leon noticed you not fighting for the wheel and he took the opportunity to start the boat and pull out of the Marina.

“So, (Y/n),” He said, putting the boat in drive and starting to steer to Alcatraz. “I’ve been thinking…” He added.

“That’s never a good thing,” You said snarkily and chuckled a bit.

“Very funny,” Leon said and rolled his eyes.

“But for real, what’s up?” You asked and looked at him. He was really focusing on what to say with how much his eyebrows were knitted and the lines next to his eyes were visible.

“It’s bad timing… we can talk about it later,” he said and looked at you, smiling.

You shrugged, thinking nothing of it. The sun setting over the bay was beautiful, it being the only thing that could peel your attention away from Leon. Your eyes tracked the sun, squinting slightly at how bright it was, but smiling at how the waves reflected the red and orange haze it was.

You went to say something to Leon and saw the same look in his face that you’d only seen once before. Amidst fancy clothes, cocktails, and fake friendships, was Leon’s face having the same look as he did now.

It was gone when he realized your eyes had met his. In a blink of an eye, he was back to his normal, scanning the area with a neutral facial expression.

Leon parked the boat at the back of the island and the two of you put on your combat gear: vests, harnesses, etc. once you two were ready to go, you were getting out of the boat and heading towards a tunnel opening.

“Munitions tunnel, should get us in,” You said and nodded towards it. Leon nodded in response and followed you into the tunnel. Eventually, the tunnel opened up to sewers, you two finally being able to fully stand up.

You turned to Leon to say something when you heard a loud BANG! The two of you locked eyes and your handguns were both drawn, aimed towards the other end of the sewers where the explosion came from.

After walking forwards a bit, the sewer split two ways, one to your left and one ahead. The sewers were set up on a block system, like a city.

“I’ll go forward, you go left,” Leon said and turned his ear com on. You nodded, copying his movements and doing the same.

The two of you gave each other a nod and separated hesitantly. Whenever the two of you separated, things never went well. Understandably, it was a necessity, but it still never went well.

You turned your flashlight on and walked to the left, then down the hallway. The light illuminated the tunnel and the sinking feeling you had gotten earlier hadn’t gone away. With Leon gone, it got more prominent.

Your boots hit the cobblestone, echoing with each footstep. Looking around, you were finding absolutely nothing. Out of the corner of your eye, the flash light reflected off of something metallic. You turned towards where the shimmer had come from and found an indented doorknob.

Silently, your hand opened the door and you slipped through it, closing it just as quietly as you opened it. Overhead lights turned on and revealed you to be in a hallway. Holding your gun up, supported by your flash light, you kept on forward.

The door at the other end of the hallway was open, revealing a more open hallway. As you walked, a small electronic buzz hit your ears as you saw one of the security cameras move.

“(Y/n), (L/n) how interesting,” A voice over the PA system said. You swiveled around, your gun up, staying silent.

A sharp pain hit the back of your neck and your hand shot to where the pain was coming from, feeling nothing unusual. Your eyelids fluttered shut as the world went dark and your knees buckled, sending your body falling towards the floor.

“At least you’ll bring me Leon Kennedy.” The voice added.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

Leon marched on forward, trying to keep his head in the mission. Usually, he was good at compartmentalizing and having a one track mind for the mission. That was, until you became his partner; even now, he was worried about how you were faring.

He knew you could handle yourself, but still he worried about you. He didn’t want you getting hurt, or worse, like everyone else in his life.

Leon heard the sound of boots hitting the cobblestone path in front of him and held his gun up, ready to shoot. He rounded the corner and the barrel of his gun got grabbed, sending him into a sprawl. Him and the other person he was fighting with were both trying not to wind up in the sewer water, dangerously close to their feet.

After a few seconds of exchanges, Leon recognized the familiar brown color of hair he was fighting. His eyes finally adjusted to the darkness and he took in the bigger picture, seeing an all too familiar face. The two of them backed off of each other and took the other in.

“Well, if it isn’t Jill Valentine.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

Catch it early on my A03!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

"Do you Trust me?"

Rollo voice) no

I feel like Rollo’s going to become a puddle of angry goo (think like a freshly salted slug) by the end of this series of headcanons…

A Big Scarabia Welcome to Rollo!

Savanaclaw’s weather was already bad enough, but Scarabia is 100 times worse. When Rollo hikes his way to the entrance of the grand dormitory (just a short stroll from the mirror), he looks like he’s about to give way to heat stroke if he doesn’t drown in his own sweat first.

He’s graciously received and personally welcomed by Kalim’s open arms (Jamil at his side) and just about the biggest smile you’ve ever seen. Rollo doesn’t sense any immediate ill will behind it (unlike the majority of the despicable mages that infest NRC), but he’s unsettled all the same by Kalim’s intense friendliness. When the Scarabian dorm leader goes in for a hug, Rollo politely steps back and declines (citing his excessive dampness as an excuse).

“Oh, you’re right! You’re not used to this kind of weather back home, huh? Don’t worry, we’ll take care of you!! Come on in! You’re today’s guest of honor!” Kalim beams, cheerfully ushering Rollo inside. Jamil follows quietly, but is staring intently at Rollo all the while—this man still remembers everything Rollo did, and he’s harboring a deep-seated grudge.

Kalim starts off the visit with a big tour of Scarabia! He forgets a lot of the finer details, so Jamil has to fill him in on the architecture and history of the dorm as he supplies them with water. (Kalim pauses to call out to and greet mob students as they pass.)

At first, Rollo’s impressed by the spread of knowledge provided—but the more he sees of Scarabia, the more disgusted he grows of its gross opulence. All the gold and jewels in the storage room could feed the entire City of Flowers for a lifetime and then some!!

The flippant way Kalim talks about his lifestyle also grates on Rollo. Who in the world places orders 100 coconuts for themselves, then buys diamonds for his entire dorm as souveinirs? Why does Scarabia have such frequent banquets and parties? How can one man live in such excess and not feel once ounce of remorse for it?! It boggles the mind.

“Hey, you must be hungry from your trip! Let’s put some food in you!!” Kalim summons a feast with the wave of his hand (Jamil had been up all night and all that morning preparing it). “Thank you, but just a nibble is enough for…” Rollo is interrupted by Kalim shoving some grapes into his mouth. “Ooh, you have to try this! Oh, and this too! And this cheese…!”

At one point, Kalim offers an apple slice with an ant on it, which causes Jamil to lock up. He screeches in disgust when Rollo casually kills the ant by squishing it under his thumb, then proceeds to take out a few others lying in wait. (“You touched bugs with your bare hands!!” Jamil cries, looking like he’s going to be sick any moment now. To this, Rollo retorts, “I should like to see you come up with a better solution!”)

After (force) feeding Rollo, Kalim tells him he has “a surprise” in store, which makes Rollo’s stomach sink. The dorm leader runs off, telling Rollo not to move from the spot. Left alone with Jamil, he warily eyes the man (who has been strangely standoffish the whole time). Jamil meets his gaze coolly. “… I didn’t tell him,” he says simply.

“To shield his poor little heart from breaking?” (Jamil shakes his head. “No, this isn’t about his feelings. I could care less about them. Kalim would only be sobbing and pestering me about my safety. I already have enough to deal with on my plate, I don’t need the extra stress. He’s kept ignorant out of convenience.”)

As expected, a self-serving reason. Rollo’s disgust does not abate. Still, a part of him wonders if Kalim would still be kind if he knew the truth of what happened in the City of Flowers, if some darker side of him would emerge as a result. No mage, no matter how upbeat, is entirely free of sin.

Kalim's taking longer than expected to get back, so Jamil and Rollo end up awkwardly playing some board games while they wait. Though Rollo tries his best, he's no match for Jamil, who takes delight in letting loose (he usually can't when he plays against Kalim) and smoking him in every match.

The ground shakes, rattling the stones in their mancala board. With each passing moment, the vibrations grow in increasing intensity—and suddenly, the doors kick open, revealing a parade of animals!! A tiger, 75 camels, 53 purple peacocks, 95 white monkeys, llamas, bears, lions, and even a flurry of birds!? Kalim arrives riding on an elephant and laughing to the slack-jawed Rollo. (Jamil groans. “You’d better get used to this, or you won’t make it through the day,” he warns flatly.)

The animals swarm Rollo, all of them kicking up a cacophony and demanding attention from him. He’s backed into a corner, trying to keep them at bag by poking them with his staff. Alas, to no avail!! The animals smother him in a pile of fur and feathers, and Rollo lets out strangled cry from between them.

“I think they’re getting along!!” Kalim notes from atop his elephant steed. (“Yes, I’m so happy for him.” Off to the side, Jamil snickers with some kind of sick, twisted joy.Finally, it’s someone else suffering for once instead of him.)

One thorough cuddling session later, Kalim flies to Rollo upon his magic carpet (it had been stashed away with him on the elephant) and offers a hand. He yanks his guest up with a grin and plops Rollo down beside him. “Next up: a magic carpet ride!” (“W-Wait, I don’t think my constitution can handle this much excitement…!!)

“Come now, where is your sense of adventure?” Jamil says as he kneels beside them on the carpet. His words are kept in an even enough of a tone, but there’s no mistaking the smirk on his mouth. (Rollo quietly fumes about it.)

Off they go into the Scarabian desert! Rollo wishes he could call it a peaceful ride, but it isn’t. Kalim keeps telling the magic carpet to show Rollo the tricks it knows, which means they’re not only soaring, but also tumbling and freewheeling through the sky. Below, the sands shine and shimmer splendidly.

Rollo’s eyes are clenched shut as he bends over the side of the carpet, trying hard to keep the contents of his lunch down. “Don’t you dare close your eyes,” Jamil whispers. “And hold your breath, it gets better.” (By ‘better’, he means ‘worse’, Rollo suspects.)

They speed up, bursting through the clouds, before dropping back down with collective shrieks. Rollo has to clutch onto his hat to keep it from flying off, forcing a scream back down as he hangs on for dear life, praying to be anywhere else. His eyes are wide with alarm, the fear inside of him clawing to escape.

The wild ride comes to a stop at a single spot of green and blue in the expanse of sand: an oasis encircled by broad-leafed trees. Rollo can’t scramble off that infernal carpet fast enough. (“Wow, he must have been really looking forward to this!!” Kalim chirps.)

With such crystalline waters available to them, Kalim thinks its only natural to take a dip! (Jamil has his sunscreen, towel, and swimming trunks on standby.) Rollo hurriedly backs away, trying to opt out—but he loses his foot in the shifting sands, and…

SPLOOSH!!! He’s drenched, the water weighing down his big hat and robes. Rollo looks less human and more like an angry wet cat (so much so that neutral-faced Jamil has to stop a smirk from overtaking him). Kalim, for his part, is super apologetic and offers Rollo his towel.

And so, Rollo sits in the shade of a tree while swathed in Kalim's towel, glaring at the Scarabia duo as they paddle around in the oasis. He hates that he can't just walk out on them, for he'd surely perish in the desert.

Rollo feels something at his feet--and when he looks down, he finds the magic carpet curled up there, emitting a sound akin to a dog panting. It seems... oddly excited to spend some time with him? Rollo frowns and makes a shooing motion, trying to banish the accursed thing--but, much to his dismay, it refuses to leave him alone and instead lingers at his side until the evening sets in ("Hmph, intrepid creature, aren't you?").

Thankfully, the trip back is uneventful (the magic carpet seems to have expended most of its energy on the showboating trip to the oasis). Rollo never thought he'd be so glad to see the garish interior of Scarabia again, but here he is. Jamil suggests that he prepare for bed (an idea which sounds surprisingly... normal, and thus earns a suspicious look from Rollo). "Oh? Do you doubt me? I would never try to deceive a beloved guest of Kalim's."

"Don't worry! Jamil's super trustworthy!!" Kalim adds. "Plus, we have to go get ready for the... Mmmmpfgh!" (Jamil quickly covers his mouth and gives a curt smile. "... As I was saying, you should wash up before bed.")

In spite of his doubts, Rollo relents with the suggestion to unwind for the night (he's had much too adrenaline for his liking today). He's escorted to a larger-than-life bathhouse and supplied with expensive-looking shampoos, conditioners, soaps, loofahs, a fluffy towel. and silk pajamas. "A bit much, don't you think?" he asks of Jamil. ("We don't do anything half-heartedly here," Jamil replies mysteriously.)

Being alone has never felt so good. Rollo has always preferred to be by himself, but after a day as hectic as this one he feels so relieved to not have Kalim and Jamil (or pesky pets!) with him as he sinks into pleasantly sweet-smelling waters.

He slips into the silk pajamas and steps out of the bathing area in slippers. Jamil bows to him and waves a hand. (Rollo's suspicions heighten.) "Right this way to your room for the night."

The inside of Scarabia is so big that it takes Rollo a while to realize that Jamil is actually leading him away from where the student rooms are—and how odd for such a noisy dorm to suddenly be dead quiet!! Just as Rollo begins to voice his apprehension, Jamil leads him right into Scarabia’s open-air lounge.

POP, POP, POP!! Party crackers go off, showering confetti onto Rollo’s freshly washed hair. He blinks several times to confirm that he is not, in fact, dreaming. No, it feels like more of a nightmare than a dream.

The lounge is infested with mob students, the air filled with loud music and the delicious smells of a sumptuous feast. Kalim emerges from the crowd and spreads his arms. “SURPRISE!! We’re throwing a banquet in your name! To our new friend!!”

Rollo feels so faint, his legs give out and Jamil had to catch him. “M-My handkerchief,” he sputters out weakly—alas, his coping mechanism won’t be able to help him now (he had foolishly tucked it away with his NBC uniform to dry overnight). “You have a party to tend to,” Jamil tells him.

The subtly evil sparkle in his dark eyes implies that Jamil knew this was coming all along… and had let it happen. He had been the one to lead Rollo here, the one to silence Kalim when he started to over speak. Anger rises in Rollo, and he struggles to contain it. “You scheming little weasel…!”

He’s not allowed to finish his statement, as Kalim has hooked one arm in his. Jamil waves good-bye to Rollo as Kalim yanks him around the room, introducing mob student after mob student to their honored guest. None of the names or faces stick in Rollo’s head, but the nausea from the earlier magic carpet ride is returning.

Speaking of the magic carpet, it trails after him and Kalim for most of the night! It weaves itself between Rollo’s legs and seems to stare at him eagerly, as if wanting head pats or compliments. (Rollo makes a face, but that doesn’t deter it.)

For the most part, Rollo keeps his mouth shut to avoid instigation (the last thing he wants is to lose it in such a public space) and downs as much grape juice as he can to quell his annoyance.

When all are full on food and drink, they’ve got to shake off all that energy!! Many take to the floor to dance, Kalim and Jamil included! They’re like birds in motion, free and flowing. Kalim just does what feels best to him, wheres Jamil mixes street dancing with his own expressive style. Rollo stands firmly at the sidelines, arms folded disapprovingly.

“Look at that disgusting display,” he grouses. The mob students around him cheer and hoot for their dorm leader and vice, their support rising about his disdain.

Now Kalim’s spinning wildly, his laugh reverberating like a bell’s echo. His arms extend as he twirls, reaching out to grasp Rollo by the arms. “Come on, dance with us!!” Kalim invites with sparkling eyes.

“No, I couldn’t…” Rollo protests, looking down stubbornly. Kalim misinterprets the motion as genuine bashfulness. (“It’s okay to be shy! That’s charming too.”)

There’s another tug—this time, Jamil. (“That’s right.” A smirk. “What’s so wrong with being a little bad once in a while?”

Rollo is dragged onto the dance floor against his will, set into the same twisted rhythm as the music. Those around him must get a sick thrill from the beats, each and every one of them a thrall to their own hedonistic desires. He wonders how they can live like this, free of care and worry—but as he dances among them, he, just for those moments, is left as feathery and as lightheaded.

How long do they dance for? He loses track of the time. There’s no clock to chime midnight to banish the magical spell placed upon him, only the burning in his feet as he dances the night away, intent on outdoing Kalim and Jamil.

Rollo basically blacks out in his bed that evening 💀 Man’s so tired and so done with this, he just wants OUT already!

… His body’s aching in the morning. (Nobody make an “he’s an old man!” joke, Rollo will smite you right where you stand.) He literally groans out loud as he hauls himself out of bed and prepares for the day. At the very least, his uniform has completely dried off from the unceremonious dunk in the oasis!

Kalim tries offload some extravagant parting gifts onto Rollo before his departure (from piles of gold and jewels to exotic new pets) to which Rollo stubbornly refuses. This leads into a back-and-forth about what would be a suitable souvenir to bring back with him from Scarabia. (Rollo won’t have any of it!!)

Jamil mediates, eventually convincing Kalim that his “invaluable friendship” and “the fun memories they made together” is treasure enough for Rollo. (Both he and Rollo gag internally at the idea, but Kalim seems super satisfied with it.)

"Yes, this won't be an experience I forget anytime soon," Rollo says dubiously. Kalim doesn't catch the malice in his flat tone, but Jamil definitely does.

[velovw]

Benevolence’s Dance.

Synopsis: Amidst war's chaos, a dance of deception and kindness unfolds, testing compassion and deceit in the enigmatic system of Ramattra.

a/n: I wrote this in the spam of 2 months, slightly proof read. I was inpired by @ya-zz​ to write, shout out to their work and blog!

Pairing: Ramattra x reader.

Words: 6k.

   In the realm of war, where ethics often surrendered to harsh conditions, Ramattra found himself making choices that defied conventional morality. He understood that sacrifice was an inevitable companion on the treacherous path to ensuring the triumph of his kind. His conscience bore the weight of this decision, not out of remorse for your sake, or the humans, but rather from a profound awareness of the potential suffering it would inflict upon Zenyatta - a potential sense of distrust between both Omnics.

Despite his master's constant preaching about the redeeming qualities of humans, Ramattra remained unconvinced and quite frankly, uninterested. To him, humans embodied a multitude of negative traits. Whether it was their inherent selfishness and arrogance or their self-destructive tendencies and inability to see beyond their own interests, humans appeared as a cruel force, gradually destroying all other forms of life, including their own. Ramattra believed that such a destructive way of existence warranted a demise filled with agony and suffering.

Ramattra harbored a profound disdain for you, a prominent figure in humanity, renowned and idolized not for your achievements or righteousness, but merely by virtue of your birth into a royal lineage. What aggravated his contempt even further was the knowledge that your family held the purse strings of the human armies, funding their weaponry and enticing more soldiers with promises of treasures should they emerge victorious in battle.

Such acts were undeniably cruel, and it was this very cruelty that absolved the omnic of any remorse for his own planned actions. His intentions were merely a reciprocal response, employing the same cruelty he had witnessed. 

While anticipating your arrival at Zenyatta's temple, Ramattra endured a tormenting impatience that consumed him like a smoldering fire. Normally cold and calculated, he found it arduous to masquerade as a warm and amiable omnic in your presence. This endeavor proved to be far more challenging than resorting to brute force alone. No, he needed to orchestrate a scenario that would position you perfectly vulnerable to the imminent omnic onslaught. 

And what better setting than the annual Royal Parade? How fitting it would be for that event to mark your final breath. Born amidst adoring gazes, you would now perish while those very same gazes converted into terrified ones.

Ramattra's audio receptors swiftly detected the frenetic movements of the Omnics converging upon the temple gate, abruptly interrupting his contemplations. Rising from his seated position, he deliberately left his staff behind, believing that relinquishing his weapon would signify his harmless intentions. The notion of appearing defenseless and amicable, a façade he never thought he would desire, became his utmost priority — albeit solely for the sake of a human.

With measured and cautious steps, Ramattra swiftly closed the distance between himself and the designated room where you would briefly reside. And there you stood.

The royal figure stood before him, adorned with a breathtaking elegance that left no doubt of your exalted status. The attire exuded opulence and refinement, each element meticulously chosen to embody luxury and prestige. You were adorned with extravagant jewelry, sparkling like constellations against a midnight sky. Diamonds and gemstones cascaded from your neck and head, shimmering with every movement, reminiscent of a celestial adornment befitting a Goddess. The jewels almost blinded Ramattra from how many there were. He had heard tales of the royals, this was the very first time he was laying his optics upon one other than a picture. 

"This is Ramattra." – Zenyatta's familiar voice rang out across the room.

As you turned your gaze towards Ramattra, his optics swiftly fixed upon your face, capturing the sight of a seemingly gentle smile gracing your lips. It was a smile he knew all too well from the countless pictures he had seen. A smile that bore an artificial veneer of gracefulness, devoid of genuine emotion — a lesson he had learned all too keenly from other humans. 

"Yes, it is my pleasure." Ramattra spoke out slightly awkward.

"No need for formalities, this is a big step for us. Having you on the parade will give hope to the people."

The unfamiliar timbre of your voice immediately registered within Ramattra's system, prompting him to store it in his memory banks with meticulous precision. It was a precautionary measure, a means to identify you amidst a buzzing crowd of thousands, should fate spare you from the fatal blast of the Omnic's weapon. He understood the seriousness of being able to discern your presence, for it was only then that he could ensure your demise befittingly and without error. 

"Yes, undoubtedly so."

Amidst the gravity of the situation, a subtle amusement flickered within Ramattra's circuits. The irony of human trust and its inherent vulnerability to deception captivated his thoughts. How astonishing it was to witness the depths of your newfound trust, oblivious to the perils that lay within such unwavering faith. To him, you remained an enemy, an adversary cloaked in a façade of friendliness.

Behind Ramattra's impassive faceplate, a flurry of electrical impulses raced through his system. With seamless efficiency, your appearance, voice, and location were transmitted to his awaiting army, a cloaked process that would remain concealed from your awareness until your final breath.

"Are you nervous?"

The unexpected inquiry about his well-being momentarily caught Ramattra off guard. He had not anticipated such a concern from the likes of you, as it seemed to be quickly swept aside as trivial small talk. To him, it was a display of the human inclination to engage in seemingly meaningless conversations, an attempt to forge connections and establish bonds—an endeavor that he found to be nothing more than a futile and foolish pursuit between the two of you.

"Why would I?"

With a hint of mocking laced beneath his voice, Ramattra asked a simple question. As he tilted his head slightly, he observed your eyes visibly flinch with discomfort. A spark of satisfaction ignited within him, relishing the fact that he had unsettled a royal figure, someone who, among many others, should exude confidence and poise. Your gaze swiftly averted from his, revealing your unease—a subtle triumph for Ramattra to wield power over someone of your esteemed status.

However tempting it was to revel in your fear, Ramattra knew that his primary focus remained on the task at hand. There were more critical matters to attend to, and right now, that meant earning a small sliver of trust from you. With a subtle clearing of his throat, he skillfully redirected your gaze back to him, making sure to have your full attention before he spoke.

"Although, I definitely appreciate your presence. It is… calming."

Striving to rectify his momentary slip of hostility, Ramattra wracked his circuits for something, anything that could salvage the situation. Over your shoulder, he caught sight of Zenyatta offering him a small nod, clearly pleased to witness his attempts at befriending a human. Ramattra couldn't dwell on Zenyatta's presence for too long, for the weight of guilt washed over him in waves, each one reminding him of the forthcoming future. It pained him to acknowledge that he would cause Zenyatta harm, albeit indirectly, delivering a blow that would undoubtedly wound their bond.

Ramattra was not oblivious to the caring gazes and the tender voice Zenyatta reserved for you. Witnessing the way Zenyatta walked with you around the temple, explaining the intricacies of an Omnic's life—their struggles and joys—left Ramattra bewildered. How could Zenyatta, fully aware of your family's involvement in the war, be so trusting and open, seemingly embracing vulnerability like a naive fool?

The Omnic could not fathom what you might do with the information you gleaned from Zenyatta. The thought gnawed at him, fueling his uncertainty and deepening the growing sense of suspicion towards your intentions. It seemed incomprehensible to Ramattra that Zenyatta willingly exposed himself to potential exploitation, and he grappled with understanding the nature of your interactions.

"I'm glad, Ramattra. I know of our differences, but I'm eager to make amends."

Your voice was soft, a small smile grazing your features as you spoke towards him. 

Lies. 

As much as Ramattra desired to believe that you were different from the rest of your kind, he found it nearly impossible to reconcile that notion. The fact that you shared the same blood, lived among humans, and were raised and educated alongside them only intensified his bitter disdain. His circuits pulsed with a surge of animosity, yearning to obliterate you in that very moment. However, the temptation of the unfolding spectacle soon to come proved too enticing to ignore. The message he would convey through his act would resonate loudly and clearly, leaving no room for doubt or ambiguity.

"I am also eager for our plans."

After a brief pause, Ramattra spoke, his head nodding subtly as he maintained an upright posture, emphasizing his full height. In response, you approached him, your hands folded in front of you, an expression of respect. Then, with a gracious gesture, you lowered your head in a bow, acknowledging Ramattra's presence and silently thanking him.

The act of bowing was a gesture typically reserved for interactions between royals, yet you chose to bestow it upon Ramattra, driven by the recognition of the pain and suffering inflicted upon him and his army by your own family. In that momentary pause, you held the position, emphasizing the amount of your respect. Only after a few seconds did you return to standing tall, a faint smile playing upon your lips as you met Ramattra's gaze.

In your eyes, Ramattra sensed a twinge of pity, mingled with an enigmatic emotion he couldn't quite grasp. Perhaps it was a hint of regret, whispering softly in the depths of your gaze. Though the meaning made him curious, he chose to let the thoughts drift away, redirecting his attention to the present moment.

"I'm sorry, for everything." — Your voice was barely a whisper. "But, I hope this can show my change of heart."

You felt a pang of disappointment as Ramattra only nodded towards you, his gaze swiftly turning to his brother standing nearby. It was clear that expecting his complete trust was nothing more than a naive hope. Suppressing a sigh, you concealed your disappointment, not wanting to reveal your true feelings in response to his indifference.

Your gaze shifted towards the clock in the room, noting that the Royal Parade was fast approaching. Soon, you would be required to board the open carriage alongside Ramattra, an action that would carry a profound message. It would serve as a visual testament, showcasing the shifting perspectives of the royal families towards Omnics. Despite the potential loss of supporters and financial resources, a small part of your family had come to understand your viewpoint. They now recognized that Omnics were not merely soulless machines, but beings with shared qualities and complexities akin to humans.

"Your highness, It is time."

As the familiar voice of your devoted maid filled the room, it served as a gentle reminder to return to the present moment. She walked towards you, her skilled hands delicately tending to every detail of your jewelry, ensuring its flawless alignment. Her eyes, filled with admiration, traced the contours of your silk ensemble, her careful touch gently smoothing the fabric, bestowing an extra touch of elegance upon your divine presence.

"Yes, of course! Please follow me, Ramattra." — you gave the auspicious Omnic another small smile.

"I'll be right behind you."

The meticulous process of preparing you for the carriage ride, with every intricate detail attended to, undoubtedly tested Ramattra's patience. His desire was to expedite the proceedings and get things underway. Yet, when he finally took his seat beside you, beholding your presence, an unexpected pang of sympathy stirred within the omnic. He couldn't help but feel a sense of sorrow for you. Your last moments would be marked by pretense and artifice, a facade meticulously crafted for the sake of your loyal followers, offering them a fleeting illusion of closeness to their revered figure.

Unbeknownst to those present, farther along the carriage route, two stealthy Omnics had skillfully eliminated the guards in the vicinity. Armed with a lethal sniper rifle specifically designed to neutralize even the most formidable of Omnics, their intentions were clear: to ensure your swift demise. There would be no opportunity for rescue, no chance to let out a scream. The weapon they possessed was overkill, but its purpose was unwavering — to ensure that your life would abruptly and definitively come to an end.

"Don't worry. No one will harm you in any way, I made sure the security was stronger this Parade."

It was quite comical, to have you say that without the knowledge of his plans. 

"I am grateful." – Ramattra replied simply.

As Ramattra's gaze remained fixed in the distance, not even sparing a glance in your direction, a wave of unease washed over you. It wasn't that you believed he harbored ill intentions towards you, but rather the uncertainty of whether you had made a good impression. The realization that impressing the leader of the Omnics was a skill you were never taught added to your growing anxiety. Years of learning to embody grace and gentility, always wearing a smile regardless of the circumstances, had been ingrained in you solely to please humans. Now, faced with the presence of Ramattra, you found yourself grappling with the unfamiliar challenge of leaving a lasting impact on an entirely different species.

Never were you taught on how to amend wrongs that weren't even your own doing, but you had to try.

"Is there something I can do to make you feel more comfortable?"

A simple question hung in the air, and Ramattra couldn't help but be intrigued by its underlying significance. After all, he was already comfortably seated within the fancy confines of the royal carriage. There seemed to be no reason for discomfort or unease. And yet, the question lingered, leaving him puzzled as to its true intention.

"You feel as if I'm uncomfortable?"

"Yes. You seem distant."

Ramattra couldn't help but emit a scoff, his gaze finally shifting to meet yours. Though his face remained hidden, you could sense a subtle annoyance emanating from him. It was a response, however, and even a hint of irritation was preferable to the void of indifference.

"Why do humans always ask pointless questions? What is it to you?"

His voice came out sharp, slightly letting go of his facade of comfort.

"Because I care. You may not believe it yet, but I'll try my best to show it to you."

"I think your kind has done enough."

Silence.

The only thing Ramattra could hear was the soft humming of his cooling fans, trying to get rid of the overload in his system. Hostility. 

As Ramattra gazed down at you, he could discern a palpable sense of disbelief reflected in your eyes. Your once-relaxed posture had now tensed, and he realized that he had indeed made a grave misstep. Your face turned away from him, staring ahead with a regal defiance, chin held high. Another scoff escaped Ramattra's lips as he, too, averted his gaze, fixing his eyes on the front. Even in moments like these, your pride remained unyielding. The thought infused Ramattra's system with an overwhelming distaste for your character.

Unbeknownst to Ramattra, your actions of turning away were not driven by pride, but rather by an attempt to regain composure. The insult inflicted upon you struck deeply, especially considering your sincere efforts to make amends and distance yourself from your family's beliefs. By deviating from their approval and creating a visible rift within the royal family, you had hoped to convey a clear message of your individuality and desire for change. In that vulnerable moment, you had believed that Ramattra's willingness to participate in the parade alongside you held a deeper significance—an acknowledgment of your sacrifices, separate from the influence of your lineage. It was a fleeting hope, and the realization that it might have been misjudged left you feeling disheartened and powerless.

Though tears threatened to spill from your eyes, you fought against them, determined to maintain composure. Allowing yourself to cry would only heighten the discomfort, not just for yourself, but also for Ramattra. You couldn't risk your supporters, who came to see you in the Parade, who stood by your side in this ideological battle, witnessing your vulnerability in tears. It would undermine the meaning and significance behind your cause, and a sense of futility washed over you, intensifying the weight of the situation.

"Did you lie?" – You prompted.

"About what?"

"That you thought my presence was calming. You said so earlier."

Despite your best efforts to maintain a firm tone, Ramattra keenly perceived the slight difference in your voice, an indication that you were holding back your emotions. However, he chose not to point it out, allowing the unspoken understanding to hang in the air between you. 

"I did not."

"Then why does it feel like you still see me as a threat?"

The question you posed had a simple answer - because he still did. But Ramattra had to work his system quickly, trying to come up with a lie, with anything that would make you feel less insecure about sitting beside him. 

"We have been killing each other for months, even years. Do you expect a simple Parade to fix your kind wrongdoings?"

It left you speechless momentarily, but you knew he was right. You would be lying to say that you didn't feel afraid of him slightly still, but you were trying to power through it. But that didn't mean Ramattra felt, or thought, the same. He was different. Had different opinions and choices. While thinking about the image you two would give out, you consequently had forgotten to think about how he felt. 

You had asked questions about his comfort, but not about his true feelings.

"I'm sorry."

A sigh escaped your mouth as a hand came to pinch your temple, a small headache forming from all the stressful thoughts. 

"You're right. This doesn't fix anything." – you continued.

"Quite the opposite. Omnics might think I'm playing lap dog. Bowing down my head in respect for the ones that killed and persecuted us without remorse. Treated less than animals."

Ramattra was quick to let his feelings known, not shying away from using drastic and accusing terms. Part of him felt angry and bitter towards this talk, but another part of him felt… free from speaking his honest thoughts. For him, you were caught up in a delusion that Omnics were less. And to change that would be hard, no matter how willing you were to show that.

"I'm sorry." – You whispered softly.

Naturally, one of your hands went to rest on top of his own, a comforting motion that you had learned ever since you were young. Ramattra didn't take kindly to your touch, quickly removing his hands from yours roughly, his hinges pinching your skin slightly as they moved away. 

"You people think saying sorry will bring back brothers and sisters I've lost? You're selfish, egocentric, the only thing you truly care about is power. Having control over everything."

His words felt like razors, and they hurt more than the aching of your skin where he had accidentally pinched you. Your hands rubbed over the spot, trying your best not to show any form of pain in front of him. Somehow, it felt selfish to do so when he was clearly in a much worse state of pain than yours. Tormented by the war and the things he had seen. 

Even if his words were hurtful, you knew he needed to get them out, to express his disdain to you. So whatever relationship you two would create would be free of resentment and misunderstanding. So you simply sat by him, nodding along with his words. Somehow, the jewelry on top of your head felt heavier than before – like it was there due to his kind destruction.

"I understand."

The words that left your mouth left Ramattra speechless. He didn't know what to feel, but mainly, he felt rage.

"Understand? Do you truly, your highness?"

"Yes. That's why I'm here, to try and make amends. No matter how hard it might be."

Ramattra could only scoff once again, in disbelief at your complete state of ignorance. There was no fixing the deaths that your kind had caused, the treatment of omnics as slaves and mere objects.

As the carriage began to move, it was clear that soon the both of you would be under the watchful eye of your admirers. It wouldn't be a good look to have such a heated question in front of them, and even if Ramattra disliked it, he knew it was true. So he simply turned away from you, his cooling fans working to relax his body so he wouldn't appear as stiff.

After all, he shouldn't be seen as a threat. Not for now, at least.

On your side, you made sure to keep your head held high with a smile on your face as the people started appearing in your view. The light of the sun blinded you for a second, but that didn't stop you from doing your duties. 

The city was buzzing, and as soon as the people saw the carriage, they started cheering. A happy look on everyone's faces as they witnessed the change you had promised them unfold, even if it only was the start. Ramattra felt slightly out of place, sat next to you, with a crowd of humans staring at him with… admiration? The change was eerie, he was used to being looked upon with fear, disdain or disgust for his actions. It slowly set in his systems that Ramattra had never seen humans stare at him in such a way, even you, during your first meeting with him, showed respect that was saved especially for royals. 

As the carriage kept moving, the decorated route pathway got more and more excited with how friendly Ramattra seemed to be. Even if it wasn’t entirely true, it wasn’t an untruth, he really didn’t know what to do in this situation. So he only kept staring at the humans, giving small head nods everytime his optics made contact with human eyes. 

Gazing towards Ramattra, it was borderline adorable how confused and lost the Omnic seemed to be. It was a good change of attitude for him. He almost seemed afraid of the change, but it only proved to you further that he had a good heart - or well, system. It only made your view on Omnics further concrete into a positive light. 

"We're in stand-by."

The voice that came by his systems was recognized to be his soldiers. Ramattra didn't shift or make any motions that would appear suspicious, simply sending them Omnicode to confirm the procedure without any problems. Everything was according to plan and looked easy to achieve from now on. It was all a time bomb now. 

Ramattra’s system felt slightly relieved that all of this show would be over soon in a single moment, the damage would be done and there would be no way to repair it. Perhaps killing a member of the royal family that mostly everyone looked up to would be a clear death wish. But Ramattra felt confident in his army and his own ability to handle the backlash of his own actions.

“You’re doing well.”

You smiled towards the omnic, who only answers with a short nod of his head – at least, he acknowledges you. It’s enough to calm your anxiety being next to him, but you feel like it isn’t enough to give him the sense of your truthfulness to the cause.

“I just wanted to say, whether you believe me or not, that’ll support you and your decisions. Although I can’t help you with war, I’ll provide you with anything you and your army need for their well-being.”

The way you so kindly said those words, your voice soft and gentle – it made Ramattra speechless. What should he say back to such promises? Especially when they wouldn't mean nothing in mere minutes.

"I thank you." 

Ramattra's voice was soft, softer than you have ever heard before. It somewhat felt like he was sad, or thinking too much about a topic that was making him feel anxiety. Whatever it was, you could hear it from him.

"And I'm sorry." – His words came to a close.

He turned his gaze towards you, his expression shifting. Ah, so that was the reason behind his aggression. The weight of this realization evoked a gentle sympathy within you, prompting a kind smile. You harbored no resentment towards his outburst, understanding that it stemmed from encountering royalty for the first time—the very individuals who had funded the armies responsible for the loss of the ones he proclaimed family.

"Please, don't apologize."

As your eyes glanced towards his hand, poised near yours, a gentle whisper escaped your lips in response. Delicately, you initiated a slow meeting of your hands, allowing him the freedom to withdraw at will. As your palms enclosed his mechanical hand, a serene smile adorned your face, you stared up at him once again.

"We'll make things right." – you said.

Ramattra couldn't phantom how understanding you were, how gentle you were treating when he clearly had shown his animosity towards you. The harsh words he spoke and the way he acted, all were uncalled for if he really stopped to think for a second. They were actions prompted by feelings of hatred, not towards you – it seemed. But to those he associated with you, and his system was slowly starting to realize the difference between you and them.

No.

He had no time for this, his mission was set and he wouldn't let himself fall for mere human false promises. Ramattra was more than this, he was smarter and his opinion wouldn't change. He hated you. He hated everything you stood up for. He hated where you came from. He hated everything. Unashamedly so.

But, he would allow you to find solace in him for your last moments. A small token of his gratitude for being so open and welcoming. Perhaps, in another life, you would grow to be more weary of those you let near.

"We will." – Ramattra replied.

He let his hand slightly squeeze yours back, just enough to see your eyes glitter with happiness and appreciation towards him. 

Everything was set.

The curtain call.

From the 7th floor of a building nearby, behind glass, Ramattra's army charged the weapon. The rifle pointed towards your head with meticulous precision, following your movements. They only needed Ramattra to simply move his head slightly to the side, to ensure he wouldn't be hit by the killing blast. 

Ramattras head tilted slightly to look at the spot where his Omnics were, a small nod on their way to confirm their plan.

This was it.

Fire.

With the trigger being pulled back, a loud noise echoed through the streets – the glass from the window hiding the Omnics cracking and falling apart. The bullet traveled quickly, piercing the air, leaving a trail behind. But within the gizmos of the weapon, an error hid, awaiting to disrupt the meticulously planned assassination. The bullet that was meant to find your head with cruel intent, embarked on a treacherous journey to forever change the course of events.

The bullet hit the side of your carriage, its blast power hitting you and Ramattra in the process. The shock of electricity made your head spin, and you could barely hear the terrified screams and the scrambling of people around you. The pain was almost unbearable, only being able to move due to the adrenaline rushing through your veins, alerting you of danger. Your ears were ringing, and your vision blurred as you tried your best to look at Ramattra – he had to be safe. For your cause, for your people, for you.

The scene quickly alerted the guards, and the omnics that were under Ramattras orders were quick to evacuate the area without being caught. They had no time to ponder what went wrong, they couldn't risk giving away that this was planned by Ramattra. They had to have another chance to get things right. 

Ramattra's systems were also slightly damaged by the shock blast, but no damage to his exterior was present. It took mere seconds for his system to restart, clearing up any errors or mishaps. His optics quickly went towards you, hunched over, holding the carriage for support as you started to hyperventilate from the shock.

He had to do this quickly now.

"Your highness!"

Upon hearing a guard's voice, Ramattra swiftly assumed a protective posture, hunching over as if he were genuinely concerned for your well-being. He placed his hand on your back, simulating a caring gesture, all the while his faceplate fixedly focused on the side of your face as you struggled to endure the waves of pain coursing through your body. The act was a delicate balance of appearing concerned and concealing his true intentions.

Soon enough, there were multiple guards around the carriage – all worried about your safety as they tried to help.

"We should move her to safety, now!" – One of them screamed.

As Ramattra contemplated his options, a sinister thought crossed his mind. He entertained the idea of ending your life when you were alone, using a shock to deceive others into believing it was a result of the blast injuries. However, he quickly discarded this notion, recognizing the risk it posed. The presence of numerous armed guards made it too dangerous for him to attempt anything in the current situation, even in his Nemesis form.

You coughed a small portion of blood. A bad sign for the health of your internal organs.

"Take Ramattra first."

The unexpected words you spoke left the Omnic in a state of disbelief, and to his surprise, the guards swiftly redirected their attention to him. Uncertain of how to react under their watchful gaze, he couldn't bring himself to resist when they promptly ushered him into a nearby building, although he knew he didn't require any assistance. The situation left him feeling perplexed and conflicted, navigating a new realm of emotions that he had never encountered before.

You were clearly in a worse state than him. Why had you so unselfishly requested the attention to be on him? Perhaps, you were stupid. Ramattra mused himself with the thought. But it was vanquished as the weight of your decision set in his system. You were a mere human, capable of dying. Even if Ramattra had suffered damage, it would simply be a change of parts – you couldn't do such a thing.

Then why?

He kept repeating that question, obsessing over the possibilities – trying, fighting, against the possibility that it was that you cared for him. 

Ramattra couldn't explain why or how, but he found himself standing by your side at the hospital bed. Despite the whispers and rumors circulating about his involvement in orchestrating the ordeal, there was no concrete proof linking him to the incident. The weapon used by the Omnics was also capable of being operated by humans, leaving no discernible trail of the perpetrator. There were no camera recordings, no DNA evidence, and no tangible traces, exactly as Ramattra had meticulously planned for months. 

The stark contrast between the current sight of you and his first glimpse was striking. Once adorned in elegant jewelry and luxurious silks, you now appeared as a mere shadow of that former self, draped in bandages and a simple hospital gown. However, amidst this transformation, one thing remained unchanged - the warmth of your kind smile that you had offered him back in the carriage. It held a special place in his memory, a beacon of comfort amidst the changes and uncertainties.

The way you had reached out for his hand and whispered sweet reassurances at him. Apologies for something that was clearly not your fault.

"Do not apologize. I am fine. You should worry about yourself." – Ramattra spoke.

For response, a small giggle escaped your lips. Hand still holding his own as he sat next to your hospital bed. 

"I'll heal. I'm glad you're safe, Ramattra."

The nonchalant manner in which you spoke about your experience, as if you hadn't faced death or endured pain, left Ramattra feeling perplexed. The complexity of emotions swirling within his mechanical system was difficult to decipher. He grappled with identifying the unfamiliar sensation, trying to make sense of the conflicting thoughts and feelings that were surfacing.

Your keen eyes acknowledged the way Ramattra's body was slightly tense, giving away the overthinking and anxiety he was obviously feeling.

"Hey."

His optics met your eyes at the softness of your voice.

"It'll be fine. I know it wasn't you, why would you be here making sure I am alright if it was?" 

The question you posed left him utterly bewildered. It wasn't the meaning of the question that puzzled him, but rather its implications. He had been by your side… ensuring your safety and well-being, even though he had initially intended for your demise to occur. The contradiction in his actions weighed heavily on his mind, creating a turmoil of conflicting emotions within him.

Why was he there?

He couldn't even answer his own question. How could he answer you?

"It doesn't matter what anyone says. We'll show them. We're different."

As you spoke, he found himself grappling with uncertainty, unsure of how to adequately respond to the depth of emotions you conveyed. In a heartfelt attempt to reciprocate the affection you had once shown him, he gently enclosed your hand within his cold, mechanical palms, seeking to offer you the same type of comfort you had bestowed upon him. The surprising realization struck him, but it felt natural, as though the act was destined, a testament to the newfound connection between the two of you.

A small, appreciative smile graced your face as you noticed his gentleness. Deep down, you felt grateful for the way things had unfolded. You would do everything over and over again if it meant earning Ramattra's trust, to ensure he wasn't hurting anymore.

Ramattra and you let the silence hang, somehow, it didn't feel uncomfortable anymore. 

He couldn't help but steal glances your way, watching the way your chest breathed in and out. He was designed with advanced sensors and processing abilities, allowing him to comprehend human emotions and behaviors. Yet, witnessing you laid so vulnerable, he suddenly became acutely aware of the profound susceptibility humans possessed. The realization how fragile you truly were, how he would never truly understand your pain, made Ramattra's chest tighten for the first time ever for a human. 

In the silence, he found solace in your presence. It was as if the once vast gap between you and him had narrowed. In his mind, he ran countless simulations, trying to calculate the best course of action to go forward. But in the end, he understood that there was no real answer, it wasn't about finding the perfect solution – maybe, just maybe, it was just being there for you.

Tenderly, he returned the gesture, gently squeezing your hand, reminiscent of the care you had shown him before. The profound effect of this simple touch surprised him, as it seemed to bridge the gap between Omnic and human, blurring the lines of distinction.  And yet, somehow he felt grateful for the complexity of emotions he was experiencing.

Your injuries, though not highly critical, would require a month-long healing process. However, it was astonishing to him how long it would take your body to recover from a mere blast of shock, a task that he, with his advanced systems, accomplished in mere seconds.

It was inevitable your death. It will come sometime soon.

It should be by his hands.

And yet…

And yet.

[meadowlarkx]

Elwing/Eärendil and 41? 🥺

41. ...because the world is saved

The prayer was granted—he had felt the currents of the world assembled and heard them answer yes. Yes, yes, yes: it beat in him. He had been relieved, as though a great burden had fallen from his shoulders, and then he had felt barely anything at all. His feet carried him from diamond street to pearl-strewn shore, still expecting the land beneath to move like a ship’s deck, in waves. Where was Elwing?

Here was another city. If Tirion had called up childhood memories of Gondolin, the shining mirror of a ghost, here was the distant, grander echo of Sirion and home. It was in the adornment of the arches that reminded of Círdan and in the piers with their forest of gleaming masts. The proud curve of the bay was an embrace, until he remembered that it reminded him of nothing: Sirion was no more.

Many voices rose ahead of his steps. These Elves had not gone to the festivities in Valimar: they were immersed in talking, gathered in a lantern-lit square near the water and seated casually clustered about one slight figure.

Her dark hair stood out among them, but he would have known her anywhere. Their eyes met and she was again before him, studying him with steely eyes. Her hands alighted on his hands gently, but firmly. He interlaced their fingers without thinking of it. A moment ago, he had drifted across the littoral, a houseless shade. Now he was solid, and suffused with the news to bursting. He kissed her and tasted salt; his own tears spilling over and down his cheek.

“Yes,” he said. “They said yes.”

Elwing laughed and gripped his hands harder. 

“They said yes?”

Leaning up she kissed him.

“Then the world is saved!” She laughed again. She was crying too, a piscine glistening upon her brown face in the silver lantern-light. He released her hands and drew his arms around her. “You have done what your grandfather and all Círdan’s craft could not.”

“We have,” he said.

What a dream it was: here they stood in a dream land, the land of song and stories. They had nothing: they had accomplished everything. Somewhere away through the impossibly high stone arch across the mouth of this harbor, gleaming with mother-of-pearl, were the darkened eastern shores of Middle-earth, and a much smaller arch in a kindred style that jutted out perilously above the Sea.

“I hate them,” Elwing said suddenly. “Is it wrong, that I hate them?”

“No,” Eärendil said, and squeezed her tightly. “I hate them too for not acting earlier. But it is done now. It will be better now. It must be.”

[kte-alxxndr]

I promise this is a Tommy Shelby Imagine.

Plane rides aren't really my thing - from watching too much action and horror movies I believed I had developed some sort of aerophobia, or maybe I was just imaging it, I don't know. I've been flying several times a month and look I'm still alive.

"Y/N?"

Yes, that is me. Y/N.

"Y/N L/N?" I haven't been called L/N for sometime now.

"Y/N L/N, it's really you!"

I try to open my eyes. First class should have privacy and not crazy fanboys.

I drag myself to open my eyes only to be met by dark colored eyes similar to mine.

"Yes?" Whoever this person was - I have no idea. He looks neat, sharp in his suit, a killer smile and eyes that I'm almost certain can catch a cabin crew by the end of this flight. A fuckboi.

"It's me, YEx/N L/N." He proudly introduces himself; but introductions are far too gone, I know the man sitting and smiling at me. I know him too well that I'm willing to bet he hasn't changed a bit over the years. "How are you? It's been so long since I last seen you."

"Yeah.." It was all I could say. I try to take deep breaths because in my imagination the plane's air suddenly wasn't enough to keep me alive before we could land.

"20 years," he started. "20 years and you haven't changed a bit."

20 years. I haven't realized it had been that long.

It was a lie, I changed.

"So business or pleasure?" I shot him a look of disgust and he just kept on smiling. "You're going to Boracay, right? So its either of the two: business or pleasure."

I couldn't believe that someone who I haven't seen in over 20 years haven't aged mentally in 20 years. Business on the front and pleasure on the side.

"I'm all about business actually, got an offer I couldn't refuse. It pays well to have connections. I come to the island every once in a while, I'm a consultant for hotels and restaurants."

I never asked yet he tells me his life story. His arse was through the roof, and I could do him a favor if I threw him out the plane just to see if that arse of his have wings. But I chose to be the better person, I decided to keep my silence and nod my head pretending to be amazed by his achievements.

From the side I could see how his eyes would travel up and down on me, until he set sight on a certain thing he found interest to open a new topic on this dreadful flight.

"Big ring," he didn't sound pleased. "Engaged?"

I followed his sight and there it was, a diamond ring and a silver band resting on my left finger.

"Married," I said proudly.

His lips pursed, his eyes looking down on my ring. Disappointment and anger was clearly written on his face, only a idiot head over heels with this fool would misinterpret that look and sympathize for his pain.

Silence was brewing and I knew him too well to know that there wasn't going to be any good in his silence. And I was right.

"With looks like yours and a body like that, you could get any man you want. And by looking at the size of that ring, you've hit the jackpot!"

I didn't know if it was destiny or what but of all the people in this planet, the universe had decided that it would be best to have him seat beside me. I was never the type to make a scene, especially in public, but if it wasn't for the crew announcing the plane would land and everyone must stay on their seats, I would have sworn to the gods that this man would already be dead.

Strangling him wouldn't be enough, stabbing him a thousand times wouldn't be enough, any form of violence and torture wouldn't be enough to satisfy the rotten feelings I harbor for this man.

A bus took us passengers to the port, I had been on this island as it was the starting point of my life, it was also the end and the change. Clear blue crystal waters and fine white sand awaited as the boat crossed the sea.

A five minute sail from the main land to the island and there a shuttle from the hotel awaited at the port exit, and the universe was testing my patience. It seems that he will be staying at the same hotel as I am. 15 minutes of ghastly trip with him seated by my side; I could see how he would turn to smile from time to time or how he would accidentally brush his hands against mine as the shuttle would turn on every intersection.

"Aren't you married?" I asks, as I stepped out of the shuttle. He wasn't amused by my question, as I too with his flirting.

"Unhappily," he says.

I wouldn't be surprised if he wasn't. A man who cares about looks and a woman uncontented of anything.

The staff started to unload the luggages from the shuttle to the hotel. The place was breathtaking, from the grand lobby with high ceilings over to the crystal water pool to the white sand beach upfront I could see from where I stand. I had momentarily forgotten a certain someone until I felt a hand grabbed me to which I was pulled back to reality.

"I was wrong," he started. "What I did was wrong and I regretted letting you go. I shouldn't have done what I did, if you could give me a second chance I promise I won't screw up, and I could give you much more than that man of yours can give. Please, give me a chance to fix us."

There was a high pitch sound ringing in my ears, a stinging pain in my hand and as if all the ranging feelings that I had been harboring were slowly escaping my body.

He was stunned by my sudden action, but so was I. It had been one hard of slap for him to keep his hand on his cheeks. A slap was nothing compared to the things he did. Some of the staff and guests were already staring but I couldn't care less.

"A chance is only given to someone who deserves it. The way you looked at me the entire flight and the accidental touch of hands was your way of flirting since then before until now, even when you are married and I told you I was. Do you think you deserve to be given a chance? Even if you did, even if others did give you that chance I. Will. Not.

I gave you chance after chance back then, when you flirted with Gale. When you got drunk and slept with Joan, or when you were forced to kiss Eliza over a stupid game of spin the bottle! You used all your chances and you never got any left since you walked out the door."

He was about to say something but I wasn't through.

"You want to fix us? There is nothing to fix! You left me, remember? You just left without giving a fucking explanation! And I was responsible for picking up the broken pieces of me.

You choose her, because I could never uphold to your stupid explanations and now you see that I'm happy, suddenly you want me back? Don't you think I deserve happiness too?

Do you really hate me that much to want me back and break me again? I never deserved you. You never deserved me and you deserve whatever is happening to you know.

I had always thought that there was something wrong with me, so I changed. I stopped drinking, stopped eating my favorite food to lose the weight, wore fucking dresses and heels to make me more ladylike. I even stopped hanging out with boys even though they were the ones I'm most comfortable with because you always say that people will think that I'm a whore if I continue to be with them!

And I just should have let people call me that; I lost my friends because of you. I lost myself because of you. Some part of me drowned and couldn't be saved because of what you did."

"Then why didn't you fight?!"

He must be joking.

"Fight? Why would I fight in a battle that I already lost halfway? I knew you were seeing her. I knew You. Were. Fucking. Her. And yet I fucking stayed!

So you have no right to ask if I fought, because I did even though I lost. It was you who didn't fight!

You chose Zareena, because she was more pretty, rich, sophisticated, something that I wasn't. And after you left I realized why you chose her, because I was never good enough for you."

People were looking, but I didn't care. I went straight to the bathrooms to fix myself, as I look at the woman in front of me I could say she is damn strong, she's someone I want to be when I grow up. Tears were useless, I already cried for that bastard many years ago and I'm not doing that again.

After fixing my makeup and clothes I went straight to the front desk. Some of the staff were still looking but I confidently made my way, I had carried that weight in my heart for over 20 years wondering what I did wrong, having it all out out was finally shutting the box and throwing it out to sea to drown.

Well of course he will be staying at where I'm staying, I might have forgotten that. I could hear the other front office associates giggling, saying something like how they were excited to work with him.

"I'm looking for Marie," I told the FO Associate.

He must have heard me because he was coming towards me, "If you have trouble with your reservation, maybe I could help you-"

"I'm not." If I did he wouldn't even be an option to ask for help. He must have gotten the message as left going to the other side of the hotel lobby.

"Welcome back Ms. Y/N," Marie, the Front Office Manager came out from the back office; and a dear friend of mine. She was the only one who never made fun of me or called me names when I started as a Hotel Manager in this same hotel, and I made sure to repay her kindness with everything I got. "I already had someone send your bags to your room."

"Mummy!"

A small voice echoes through the entire hotel lobby. I knew it too well that the moment I turned around I see my 3 year old son running towards me with open arms. I scoop him in my arms, and he immediately wraps his arms around me, his head sinking in my neck.

"I missed you, Mummy." He whispers, we only haven't seen each other in two days and my heart would melt on how my son misses me.

"I missed you too, Charlie." I say as I kiss his head and rubs his back.

"I want ice cream."

"We'll have ice cream after lunch. Where's Daddy?"

Charlie then makes this gestures as he brings his hand to his lips and blows an imaginary smoke.

My husband and his habits. He's at the smoking area then.

"Daddy!" I set Charlie down and watch him run towards his father. I couldn't help but laugh as he excitedly announces that we were having ice cream after lunch than tell his father I've arrived.

With our son in his arms my husband came to my side and gave me a kiss to welcome, "I missed you."

"I missed you too, Tom." Like father, like son. God I love my two boys.

"I'd like to introduce you to someone, Y/N." Tommy says, he looks over and I saw the person in view. "Love, this is Mr. YEx/N L/N. He's the new hotel consultant."

No wonder those FO Associates were giggling, YEx/N is the hotel consultant who will be overseeing every operations from the front and back.

"Mr. YExL/N, this is my ever beautiful and amazing wife Y/N Shelby and our son, Charlie. My wife is the CEO of the Shelbreeze Resorts and Hotels."

I gave him my most beautiful smile. Oh have the tables turned.

"Welcome to Shelbreeze Crystal Sands, Mr. YExL/N. I'm afraid we won't be needing your services after all." Tommy looks at me with a questioning look, but he knows better. "I'll have Marie send someone to fetch your bags and drive you back to the airport. A ticket will be ready when you get there. I'll assure you that you'll be on the first flight back."

Terrified. That what he looks like. I'll make sure that his connections get burned to ashes and he gets an offer he couldn’t refuse.

"No hard feelings, Mr. YExL/N. I just don't want someone to screw over my husband's company then suddenly leave for no apparent reason. I'm afraid I won't live up to your expectations as your boss, after all I will never be good enough, right?"

Tommy placed his hand over mine and holds it tight. I never told him a name, only the story, and I think he got the message.

"I would appreciate it if this will be the time we'll be seeing each other, Mr. YExL/N." says Tommy.

Marie immediately stepped in and assisted YEx/N on his way out.

"Oh, Mr. YExL/N before I forget," Tommy calls out. "She's more than enough."

Boracay Island is truly an amazing place to be, and I decided to set my story there thinking it would be a perfect place for a Tommy Shelby Modern Imagine.

[ MASTERLIST ]

Note: Thank you again for the 100 followers. I hope you like this story. Comments are deeply appreciated.

[dainangel]

NEXT TIME. 

heeseung x f!reader (angst) (jungwon is also in this)

———-

!!: slightly suggestive(not really)

author’s note: yea hi im back from the dead 

———-

🎵: i love you, when i was your man, space song :(

———- 

this was the worst day for heeseung. well, one of the worst. he took a swig of his wine, and sighed. he looked around his surroundings, hating how happy everyone looked. hating how happy everything looked. hating how happy you looked. everyone was chatting like the sound of bees, until the DJ began to play a slow romantic song. he looked around the venue again, seeing your happy face again. you ran onto the large dance floor with your former fiancé (now newly wed husband), jungwon. the orange and pink lights turned into a dark blue and some purple. everyone began to get out of their seats to record and dance along the floor. except heeseung. he stayed put in his seat, not taking his eyes off of you. 

he ran his hand through his dark hair, sighing. he should be happy for you… but can he really? he’s loved you for so long, but was too afraid to admit it. you probably had a thing for him, too. 

until you discovered jungwon in highschool. you two met in chemistry class, and hit it off from there. jungwon to you was like a new spark, or something youve never tasted before. soon enough, you began to drift away from heesung, like a boat leaving its harbor. all of your free time was now being spent on jungwon and not him. 

coincidentally, you and jungwon basically confirmed your guys’ dating status at heesung’s house. heeseung threw a movie night party for some friends, which then turned into multiple guests because of how many plus ones people were dragging in. jungwon was technically your plus one. it was about halfway through the movie, and heesung still couldnt take his eyes off you. jungwon couldnt, either. you were oblivious to this, just laughing at the bright screen along with everyone else. jungwon ended up slowly snaking his hand towards yours, grasping onto it. you didnt have any big reaction, but a subtle bashful smile to him, like its been done before. to heeseung, seeing your hands together was like him seeing the biggest bomb in the world with a 5 second timer on it. he couldnt take his eyes off of it, and eventually started fidgeting with the blanket on his couch, panicking and wondering. when it was time to go, he walked all the guests out to their cars. he looked for you, to say bye, but instead saw jungwon kissing you. jungwon kissing you. after he kissed you, he reached for your hand and opened the car door for you. he went to the other side, and got in. sooner or later everyone was gone. he was in complete shock. that was the worst day of his life. 

he zoned back in and looked at you closely. the way your white jeweled dress hugged your figure perfectly, and all the lace and frabric made you look stunning. your hair beautifully laid with a veil and flowers sprinkled on it. he scoffed, seeing how happy you looked with jungwon. he was the first one, afterall. he’s the one that first made you feel safe, appreciated, and loved. not jungwon. he wished he could go up to the stage and grab a wine bottle and pour it out all over the dance floor, watching the dark red liquid stain everything in its path. even better, chucking the empty bottle at jungwon. but he couldnt. he saw how happy you were.

he grabbed his glass, gulping down the remaining liquid. it burned his throat, but he didnt care. he just wanted to be the one who was holding you. the one who was dancing with you. the one who had a 5- paged speech to give to you. the one who bought an expensive diamond ring for you. the one who was supposed to be by your side forever. the one you’d wake up next to. the one who kissed you at the movie party.

he couldnt imagine the fact that you were living with jungwon. the fact that he got to see your happy smiles everyday. he could give you endless kisses. he could see you at your weakest moments, and be the one to comfort you. the one who could listen to your deepest thoughts before going to bed.

but, what if you never met jungwon? what if you werent taking chemistry? what if you stayed by heesung’s side through it all? what would have happened if he spoke up about how he feeled? 

he chuckled at his stupid thoughts. heeseung knew even if you didnt meet jungwon, you and him would still never be together. he was too afraid to ruin the friendship you created with him. 

heeseung smiled lightly, sucking in the salty tears that were about to drip down his cheeks. “maybe next time, y/n.”

written by;

chubbles

[ao3feed-kathony]

Tell Me That You Hate Me (Most Ardently)

read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/54431317 by Murphys_Law1111 “Does the young lady know the Viscount Bridgerton?” “Only a little.” “Do you not think him handsome then, miss? “Yes. Yes, I dare say he is.” or With the untimely passing of her elder sister, Josephine, and the sudden appearance of a long-lost cousin poised to claim her late father's title, Diana's world teetered on uncertainty. Still grappling with the aftermath of her own debut season and the pressures of society's expectations, Diana makes a bold decision: to forsake the notion of love and marriage altogether and focus on her younger sister. With her sister Georgiana’s rising acclaim as the season's foremost diamond, the arrival of Lord Bridgerton derails Diana's carefully laid plans. Despite his undeniable allure and impeccable reputation, Diana harbors a deep-seated disdain for the suitor, convinced that no man, especially not Anthony Bridgerton, could ever be deemed suitable for her beloved sister. or Diana had learnt to never trust a Bridgerton. Anthony seemed intent on making her change her mind. If only she was more forgiving. If only he could remember. If only they could have a real conversation. Kissing does tend to make someone stop talking. Words: 8658, Chapters: 5/?, Language: English Fandoms: Bridgerton (TV), Bridgerton Series - Julia Quinn, Queen Charlotte: A Bridgerton Story (TV) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M, Gen, Multi, Other Characters: Anthony Bridgerton, Bridgerton Family (Bridgerton), Original Female Character(s) Relationships: Anthony Bridgerton/Original Female Character(s), Anthony Bridgerton/Original Character(s), Anthony Bridgerton & Violet Bridgerton, Anthony Bridgerton & Bridgerton Family, Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington, Penelope Featherington & Original Female Character(s), Bridgerton Siblings (Bridgerton) & Original Female Character(s), Benedict Bridgerton/Original Female Character(s), Anthony Bridgerton/Kate Sheffield | Kate Sharma, Anthony Bridgerton & Benedict Bridgerton & Colin Bridgerton & Eloise Bridgerton Additional Tags: Protective Anthony Bridgerton, Anthony Bridgerton Needs A Hug, Anthony Bridgerton Being an Idiot, Jealous Anthony Bridgerton, POV Anthony Bridgerton, POV Original Female Character, Inspired by Bridgerton (TV), Alternate Universe - Bridgerton (TV) Fusion, Pride and Prejudice References, Bridgerton Family Feels, Anthony Bridgerton Being a Gentleman, Unrequited Love, Not Actually Unrequited Love, the sharmas/sheffields do not exist, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, sorta - Freeform, hopefully, we'll see, Violet Bridgerton Knows Everything, Scene: Fitzwilliam Darcy Hand Flex (Pride and Prejudice 2005), but anthony, Based on a Taylor Swift Song, you'll have to guess which one, or multiple, Fluff and Angst, Mutual Pining, Diana Thrombey hates Anthony Bridgerton, Georgiana is a ray of sunshine, Josephine is dead, like dead dead, yet still affecting plot from the grave, what an icon, Love Confessions, lots of miscommunication, love is real, they just deny deny deny, GET THESE GUYS SOME THERAPY MY GOSH read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/54431317

[notsopersonalcharlie]

Hotshot Part 5 - Second Chance

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Army!OC - Angsty Fluff

tags: @rousethemouse @hotchgan​ @hotchnerxo​ @chaoticconnoisseurgiver​

Warnings: swearing, mentions of being shot, I think thats it.

Notes: You know I have 0 consistency but I do have a vision and that vision was cheesy as fuck. Photo from a post by @slytherqueern and this is what I imagine him looking like in literally all the flashbacks Enjoy!

Part 1 here - Part 2 here - Part 3 here - Part 4 here

Willow smiled at her phone when it buzzed. She was looking at a photo of Aaron and Jack from a few weeks ago. It felt like it had been a lifetime and also no time at all since she met Aaron again. In reality it had only been seven months.

"Hey Hotshot."

"Are you ever going to give that up?"

"No, what's up?" Aaron looked at the ring one last time before putting it in his jacket pocket.

"Ready for our surprise date?"

"Of course I am. Always ready for our dates, Aaron." He couldn't help but smile.

"I'm leaving right now." Willow set the phone down and looked in her closet. She hadn't thought about what to wear and he hadn't really given her an idea of what the event was. Jeans and a shirt were probably alright, maybe a sweater since the spring chill hadn't vanished yet. A frown set it when she looked in the back of her closet, pushing her uniforms out of the way. A familiar navy gown was gathering dust against the back wall. She'd only ever gotten to wear it the one time. She couldn't even have imagined looking at it seven months ago, much less touch it.

"Aaron, what are you talking about." He had always worn his emotions on his sleeve, maybe just to her but she could always see them, especially in his big brown eyes.

"Willow, I joined the military to go to law school, you knew this. I need to go now."

"But Aaron, I..." She regretted everything now, waiting till after they deployed to get married, all the time that had passed with the ring she was wearing now.

"Please, I have to. I know you want to stay, but I can't. That doesn't mean we have to-"

"Have it. You'll need it to pay for your degree." He was speechless now, watching the diamond ring fall into the palm of his hand that had been outstretched to take her hand. Willow felt like a coward when she walked away, hot tears on her cheeks as she stormed back into the busy ballroom. Some of the sniper squad were still seated and when she sat down one of their wives touched her arm.

"Sweetie, are you okay?" Willow shook her head, lifting up her left hand without a word and stifling a sob as her friend pulled her into her arms.

"Grey, grab our stuff come on." She helped Willow up, her husband trailing with all their things as Willow tried to keep her crying under the radar.

Willow forced the thought away. She hadn't ever felt like that since that night, maybe because she had avoided it at all cost, moving from war zone to night watch over and over until no one knew where she was or how to talk to her. But now she had Aaron.

Willow jumped remembering she was trying to get dressed, and opted for a black and white sweater before grabbing her phone and a jacket and running out the door. Aaron was already waiting.

"What did you forget I was coming?" he joked. She smiled, leaning over to kiss him before fastening her seatbelt.

"I got distracted. So where are we going?"

"You are so terrible with surprises," Aaron laughed, pulling away from the curb. He had gotten sentimental, and he knew he couldn't recreate exactly his first proposal, but he could get pretty darn close on the harbor by the water.

"You are too."

"What did you get distracted by?" Willow took Aaron's hand, which was resting on her thigh, and squeezed it before saying, "I was thinking about when you left. And I guess when I did, and how I shouldn't have given that ring back." Aaron's heart was beating too fast now, and he pulled over just a few blocks from where she lived.

"Is this where we're going?" She asked, looking out onto the city block.

"No... No I... Willow, there's more to that story. On that night." She frowned and looked at him.

"After you and Carly went outside Greyson found me. I was just sitting on the back of my pickup and he asked me what happened."

"Hotchner, what the fuck, man?" Aaron could tell he was mad just based on the face that he used his actual last name. He was slow to lift his head out of his hands.

"I have to go to law school, Grey. I joined the Army so I could do that and I've put it off long enough."

"You weren't fucking putting it off. You were in love, you were doing what the two of you needed. It's not too late, you can make this work. You can stay together." Aaron was shaking his head, he hadn't ever cried in front of the squad, not even after his first kill or when Willow had gotten shot when he was still stateside. Now he couldn't stop the tears. Law school was all he had ever wanted before he met her.

"It's too late. I have to go." Grey grabbed his shoulders, forcing Aaron to look him in the eye.

"Aaron, you can go over there right now and ask for her back. Ask to make it work, but this is your only chance man. You only get one chance."

"I regretted not getting up then, but I really hope Grey was wrong. I really hope this is my second chance." Willow stared at the ring Aaron was holding out to her. It was the same one. She could see the small knick in the band where it always rubbed against the shitty metal on the door handle of Aaron's blue pickup. It carried so many memories of them. And she had always assumed he just sold it.

"Of course. You better not screw it up, hotshot."

[roguelioness]

in this land of broken stars

Fandom: FFXIV Pairing: Alyzen Kaide & Urianger Augurelt Rating: T Words: 1672

(Read on ao3)

Even now, weeks after the defeat of Lakeland's Lightwarden, the people of the Crystarium still celebrate the return of the night sky. Fewer in number than that first day perhaps, but the looks of awe and wonder on their faces is a sight Alyzen will never tire of.

She stares at the sky herself, at the myriad constellations, so similar, yet so different to the sky that covers the place she calls home. The stars, as Urianger had described it, gleam like diamonds scattered across a rich velvet robe. Their light is gentle and kind, so unalike the harsh, relentless brutality of the Light that scoured the rest of the land; it’s incredible to think that this was hidden behind that nigh-impenetrable veil of lucence. 

At her next inhale, claws of acid rake her insides. Her vision blurs and she stumbles, hand pressed desperately hard to her chest. Whatever is within her presses against her nerves, attempts to gnaw on her bones, and it is only her stubborn refusal to give into it that drives it back.

When the pain recedes, she exhales, and fear rushes in, panic fuelling the rapidity of her pulse. Something is happening to her, she knows it, and yet no one will give her answers. Worse, she cannot even talk about it with her companions, for they would worry and fret. What they have to accomplish is too important for them to stop and search for answers.

She scoffs, frustrated and despairing. What else is new? This is how it has always been; her nature as a weapon far more valuable than her status as a person.

But this new kind of pain – whatever it is – in this new, unknown place frightens her enough to seek out answers. 

She finds Urianger in the Cabinet of Curiosity, seated at ones of the tables furthest away from the main entrance. As she’d expected, a plethora of tomes are stacked neatly atop the wooden surface, the man himself poring over a particularly thick, leather-bound volume. Alyzen smiles at the sight of his pale hair, no longer hidden by a hood. Norvrandt has changed him, and she is pleased for it, gladdened at how he’s grown in both confidence and self-assuredness.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you?” she asks, a hand resting on the back of an empty chair.

Urianger looks up at her and smiles. “Thine company is ever welcome,” he leans over to adjust the chair so she can sit. “Should thee not retire and partake of slumber? Thine struggle with Rak’tika’s Lightwarden was most arduous.” 

“I could not sleep,” she murmurs, her eyes taking in the book titles but not really registering them. “Too many thoughts in my head, I suppose.”

“Wouldst thou share them with me, so I may attempt to lessen thy burden?”

She gives a wan little half-smile and shrugs. “What Emet-Selch said, about those murals… do you think he was telling the truth?”

Urianger carefully marks his place in the book with a thin strap of leather before shutting it close and setting it aside. “I knoweth not what to believe,” he clasps his fingers together. “To hearken such a somber tale doth disquieten me indeed. Never would I perpend mineself of harboring any sympathy for mine enemy, and yet I find myself pondering over the Ascian’s words. Nevertheless, I balk at the veritable discord his kind hath sown, and the countless deaths they hath contributed to. Certain am I that our path is true.”

“You’re right,” she murmurs. “If the Ascians are truly tempered to Zodiark, I suppose it makes sense that they are driven to act as they are. Still, I am surprised that he’s aware that he is tempered, and yet chooses to act the way he does instead of finding a way to break the tempering.”

“He hath made his choice. ‘Tis most futile to scout for the reasoning behind it.”

They fall into an easy silence. Aly idly thumbs through the book nearest to her while Urianger returns to his perusal of his tome. The question is on the tip of her tongue – what is happening to me? – and yet she can’t seem to find the courage to push it out. 

It’s only when a bladed ribbon of pain curls around her rib that she’s able to blurt it out, though not as elegantly as she’d hoped. “I overheard you and Y’shtola talking.” When he stiffens but doesn’t look at her, she continues in a ramble, “About me. About the aether I have been absorbing. That’s why she thought I was a sineater at first, isn’t it? There’s something wrong with me, Urianger, and we both know it.”

“I–”

“Don’t try to pretend it isn’t there,” she hates that her voice is cracking, hates even more that she can feel the tears build up behind her eyes. “She told me about it. Is that why it– why it hurt after I killed Rak’tika’s Lightwarden? Why it sometimes feels as though there’s something inside me that wants to devour me? Please, Urianger,” she places a hand on his arm, her fingers gripping onto him as though he were a lifeline, “will you not tell me what’s happening to me?”

His gaze, when it meets hers, is deeply troubled. Urianger hesitates a moment before placing his hand atop hers. “It grieveth me most deeply to deny thine request,” his voice holds within in a plea for her to understand, “Know that I doth not refuse thee for malice. There are forces at play that need must be navigated with the utmost of caution–” he trails off, breaking away from her eyes.

Aly wants to cry. Her fingers curl into her palm, nails biting into the skin, and the bite of pain holds her steady. She has to clear her throat and take in a deep breath before she can continue; it’s a challenge, but she’s pleased with how she’s able to keep her voice low and calm and even. “You will not tell me, even when it’s affecting my life? When there’s a chance I might die? There are two more Lightwardens I must slay, Urianger,” she beseeches, “at least allow me the comfort of knowing what is happening to my own body so I might prepare for it.”

His head droops to hang between his shoulders. “Forgive me, my friend, but I cannot grant thee thine request, though thou art deserving of elucidation.” There’s anguish in the depths of his eyes when he’s able to look at her again. “Pray, do not quit thy faith in me. Upon mine honor, I vow that I will do naught to misplace thine trust.”

She wants to be mad at him. She wants to rage at him, to scream and pour out the entirety of her fear and her stress and her anger at being used this way, at constantly being used as a weapon, at how little of a person she’s become ever since the mantle of Warrior of Light was laid across her shoulders, but… what is the point? He is not to blame for all that has befallen her. It’s not his fault that her life is the way it is. In all the years she’s known him, her trust in him has never faltered, not even when she knew him to be working with the Warriors of Darkness.

Even if she dislikes his secrecy, she still trusts him.

Even if it means his lack of answers might lead to her death.

“I trust you,” she says, very quietly, her unshed tears clogging her throat. He looks so distressed she has half a mind to reassure him, but her own fear and anxiety have left her jittery and shaky. Still, she’s unable to keep herself from being just a little spiteful, just a little petty. “I trust you.” She pauses a second, then adds, “Like Minfilia trusted you.”

Alyzen takes no pleasure in the way he flinches.

“Forgive me,” he murmurs again, his head bowed so low his forehead nearly meets the table.

Her heart aches at his hurt, at the way he seems to have resigned himself to being painted a villain, and she regrets her pointed barb. None of this is his fault; he is as much a mummer in this play as she is. Has he not always watched out for her, aided her in ways she did not know she needed help? He has never failed her in her moments of need. Though she might not know the reason for his secrecy, she cannot deny that his schemes, elaborate as they are, have been for the greater good. Placing a hand on his shoulder, Aly gives it a gentle squeeze as an apology for her unwarranted cruelty. “I already have,” she says softly. “I do trust you, Urianger. I always have. I always will.”

“All shall be laid bare with time,” he says, grave and somber. “Know that I dislike this concealment as keenly as you. For the sake of this world, and our own, must I keep mine own confidence, even should it inspire mine allies to displace their belief.” 

She knows he’s referring to Y’shtola, and she doesn’t know what to say, for she knows as well as he does that Y’shtola is deeply suspicious of both the Exarch and Urianger’s silence. “We’ll figure it out,” she says, in an attempt to console him. “You are not alone.”

He tilts his head to press his cheek against her hand, his shoulders rising and falling with the force of his sigh. Aly awkwardly strokes his hair with her free hand, half-expecting him to pull away, but he does not; instead, he takes the hand on his shoulder between his own, clasping it like he’s attempting to shield it – shield her – from all she is yet to face.

There's no need for words – they stay there in silence, the warrior of light and her friend, each offering the other comfort in the way they know best.

[doomxdriven]

DRABBLE: The Diamond Dust Incident

Within the compound of Central 46, a great commotion unfolds-- the numerous judges and wise men flood into the Underground Assembly Hall with great haste, one of them not even bothering to take their seat  before they turn and yell at the man standing on the platform beneath them in the center of the room, a masked, hooded individual who's attire bore the mark of the Kido Corps-- Bansui. "What do you mean it was stolen!?"

Bansui, lazily hunched over while he cants his head just enough to gaze at the judge speaking to him, says in his usual calm, low, and haphazard tone,"it.... appears, that is the... case. The Ōin has been... taken." 

That's when the uproar really started, as one by one, numerous members of Central 46 began yelling at Bansui, some angry, others scared.

"Do you know what this entails? The King's Seal? Stolen!?" 

"Who did this? How did they outmaneuver a contingent of your best men and a Captain of the Gotei 13?"

"Why weren't you there!"

"How did you not see this coming ?!"

"This is unacceptable! "

"You don't know the peril we could all be in now, you fool!"

Bansui simply stands there for a minute or two, silent, listening to the chorus of angry, or otherwise emotional voices descend upon him from every direction. "........." Though silent, Bansui was not pleased by the words being thrown at him, nor the sheer, almost ear drum bursting level of noise all these judges and wise men were creating, and that's why at some point, they are all forced into silence, with many brought to their knees on account of Bansui suddenly releasing his Reiatsu. It's a very brief release of Bansui's Reiatsu, not enough to really hurt anyone, but enough for all the yelling to stop, finally giving him time to explain.

"You!... You will remember your place, Bansui," one of the judges manages to call out, after climbing back to their feet, "we could have you executed for such borderline treachery!" 

Bansui slowly shakes his head at that judge, "My... good lords, and ladies, please, I cannot... give the answers thy seek with such.... unruly behavior afoot. Thou... left me, no choice, truly." 

 Many other members of Central 46 grumble and whisper among themselves, some still shaken by the release of Bansui's Reiatsu, but one finally clears their throat and says, with no small amount of contempt, "speak then, tell us what happened."

Bansui, putting some effort in to stand up straight and face the members of Central 46, begins, "After reviewing the... data, of the incident, I can say that it is... as thou heard, the procession harboring the... Ōin, was ambushed by an... unknown Shinigami, and three.... unusual, Arrancar."

Bansui holds out one of his palms, and from it, an orb of dark energy begins to gather. Some judges are scared by Bansui's action, and some were about ready to call for the Onmitsukido, but they relent once that energy morphs into a large, spherical screen, that, after levitating upward, begins to replay pieces of the incident that has occurred with the Ōin.

"I was... immersed, in other matters when the... ambush, took place-- more specifically, I was... in, the World of the Living, trying to gather more.. information, on the beings encountered by the... Thirteenth Division's Lieutenant two months prior." The matter of the Bounts was an intriguing one, and Bansui had apparently been busy with it for some time now, almost too busy. "Had I... suspected, the Ōin's procession would be... obstructed, I would have... personally, seen to it's... relocation, along with Captain Hitsugaya, but alas.... we were all wholly, blindsided."

Upon the spherical screen, images of the Tenth Divisions Captain clashing with a masked Shinigami and three strange Arrancar can be seen. The members of Central 46 look on with concern, but are taken aback when they witness the masked Shinigami release an attack that's identical to one of Captain Hitsugaya's Zanpakuto, Hyorinmaru.

"What just happened there?" One member of Central 46 asked.

"Ahhhhhh, yes... their identity is .. yet unknown, but it appears the... main assailant, in this matter, possesses the same Zanpakuto as... Captain Hitsugaya-- intriguing, is it not?"

While shocked, a number of the judges in the room scoff at what Bansui said, despite clearly seeing his words vindicated by the recording. "No two Shinigami can possess the same Zanpakuto, this is known. "

Bansui let’s out a low chuckle, “Thou are not wrong… according to, all we know, it is indeed, impossible, for… two Shinigami to possess, the same Zanpakuto Spirit, but what we… see here, cannot be denied.” 

Bansui waves a hand, rolling back the recording upon that spherical screen, pausing on a brief moment where the masked Shinigami holds the Ōin in clear view for all present to see.

“I trust all here are… aware, of the Ōin’s capabilities?” Bansui assumed so anyway, though it wouldn’t surprise him if no one here knew at all about the thing they were fussing over.  “My theory is… that the Ōin is somehow responsible for this, it is… the only way, to make sense of this, lunacy.”

The members of Central 46 talk among themselves, many still in disbelief about what they were hearing and seeing but none being able to really question or provide any better explanations themselves. Soon enough,one of the judges addresses Bansui again, their eyes narrowed, "... please continue."

"As is the case with.... the main assailant, none of their accomplices are... identifiable." Waving his hand at the spherical screen again, the recording flashes forward to close up shots of three mysterious Arrancar. "These three have.... never been seen before, and the samples of their... Reiryoku, that were left behind are... puzzling. They are all indeed... Arrancar, but the... signatures, of their, Reiryoku suggest they are... artificial creations, similar to the workings of the.... Hogyoku." 

That revelation stirs many members of Central 46 to gasp, with one frantically asking, "Are you saying this individual possesses the Hogyoku and the Ōin? How is this possible?! I thought Aizen was in possession of the only one!"

Bansui holds his hands up at the speaking member of Central 46, gesturing for them to calm down, "While it is.... not impossible, for someone to ... create another Hogyoku, I do not....  believe, that one is responsible here." Bansui spoke with great confidence in that factor, maybe too much confidence for someone who claimed they were just as in the dark about this whole matter as everyone was, but the members of Central 46 seem to take him at his word, despite still being on edge. 

"Not all..... is lost, however. The identities of these... thieves, is yet unknown, but we.... know, where they went-- to Las Noches, Hueco Mundo." Bansui grins widely beneath his mask. "It would be.... wise, for thou all to... dispatch patrols, posthaste. We may well locate the... Ōin, before these thieves have a... chance, to truly use it."

Some members of Central 46 grumble at Bansui for not having led with that information, but they get ready to deploy Jigokuchō with the necessary information. 

"In the meantime, myself and.... assistants, from the SRDI, shall continue to... study,  all aspects of this... incident, and we shall report any new... details, as they are discovered." Turning away from the members of Central 46, Bansui begins his departure from the chambers, but not before un-summoning that spherical screen, and cryptically adding, "I would also... advise, thou all to, question, Captain Hitsugaya, in light of him being present for this... incident. When I... spoke to him, the young lad seemed... troubled, in a way that suggests he is... hiding something."

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

Meanwhile, as Central 46 wastes their time with Hueco Mundo and to a lesser extent, the Tenth Division's Captain, a group of people congregate in mansion on the outskirts of Karakura Town.

"It would seem the information you and your Arrancar friend had was correct, and to boot, you actually retrieved that seal, bravo." Jin Kariya reclines in his seat, sporting a pleased smirk on his face as he looks in the direction of a masked individual, the same one who had stolen the Ōin. Standing at Jin's side are two of his more trusted subordinates, a dark haired man dressed in Shinigami garbs and a blonde, bespectacled woman with orange-esque eyes-- both seem equal parts concerned as they are in awe, looking on with Jin at the golden, glowing item held by that masked individual. 

"You're damn right." the masked individual replies, practically dangling the Oin in front of Jin and his subordinates, before removing his mask and declaring, in a downright vicious manner, 

"Now we can really kick this plan of ours into action. The Shinigami won't know what hit 'em."

[robertshawaiii]

Dive into Adventure: Experience the Thrill of an Oahu Submarine Tour

An Underwater Journey

The journey begins at the picturesque Honolulu Harbor, where you'll board a comfortable shuttle boat that takes you to the submarine dive site. As you sail out, you'll be treated to panoramic views of the Waikiki coastline and Diamond Head, setting the tone for the adventure ahead. Once you reach the dive location, the real excitement begins.

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Whether you're traveling with young children, teenagers, or seniors, an Oahu submarine tour is an activity that everyone can enjoy. The tours are designed to be accessible and comfortable, with climate-controlled cabins and spacious seating. best pearl harbor tours from waikiki For families, it's an excellent way to introduce kids to the wonders of the ocean in a safe and controlled environment. For adults, it offers a unique and relaxing way to explore the underwater world without the need for diving gear or swimming skills.

Planning Your Tour

When planning your Oahu submarine tour, it's a good idea to book in advance, especially during peak tourist seasons. Many tours offer flexible scheduling and convenient departure times to accommodate your itinerary. Be sure to check what is included in the tour package, such as transportation to and from the dive site, and any additional amenities or services.

[libraryofcirclaria]

1027 to 1072

Library of Circlaria

Remikra Timeline

The Great North: Industrial Boom, Overseas Expansion, and the Establishment of Terredon

During this period, the Kingdom of the Great North and its land claims saw the emergence of numerous factories including textile mills, manufacturing plants, and metal crafting facilities.

Scriptfire, having originated in the late 800s and early 900s, evolved into industrial talisman production. Based upon the talisman industry came into existence various trinkets and devices, most notably clocks and gyroscopes.

In the railroad industry, trains connected every major city in Northern Remikra except for Norm; and by the year 1045, a train ran between two major cities twice a day at any given location. Smaller rail lines, meanwhile, connected the suburbs around each major city. The most remarkable achievement was in the year 1050, when a rail line connecting the Edoran and Linbraean Regiondoms was completed, making it possible to travel cross-country directly by rail. Meanwhile, rail networks arose and expanded in Great Northern territories overseas, as the major cities on the West Canticulan peninsula were connected.

Such robust rail networks were all powered by steam engines burning blue-diamond coal sands, the mining of which created many jobs. Along with trains, coal sands powered factories and steam-boats. Before long, a large market emerged for the resource, which was expensive at first but became affordable as more coal sand deposits were discovered.

Most Great Northern land acquisitions in Northern Canticula were peaceful transactions, as the superpower trekked further to the East. However, there were numerous conflicts, carried out by stubborn local figures who resisted; but they were easily defeated by the Great North. Following behind the advancing lines of the Great Northern border were established cities and industrial infrastructures, as the Great North began to have profound influence on the continent. The Great North also gained control over the Hobland territories, although it did fail to conquer present-day Notulfa, due to the brutal resistance measures carried out. Such the latter was abandoned.

Sulledon was established as a seaport in the year 1001; and by the 1030s, it became quite affluent. In 1021, however, a pirate attack upon the city prompted the King and Queen to establish a large Navy reserve around its harbor. Such an agenda effectively rendered the city safe by 1023, so much so, that King Philip and Queen Mary, wanting to have better enforcement over trade taxes, decided to move the Great Northern Crown to this spot. With such a decision made came the desire for additional layers of protection. So, under the orders of the King, one great wall around the city and harbor, and three defensive layers around a designated perimeter in the center of Sulledon, was built. Upon this perimeter was constructed the Crown Seat, named the Stellion Palace. On 15 October 1036, the project was declared officially completed, as the city was renamed Terredon; and it was here on this day that the Crown's location was officially established.

One year later, King Philip died of a heart condition. Nevertheless, under Queen Mary, the Great North continued to prosper.

The Great North: Early Crises

On 9 June 1039, a coordinated pirate attack was waged against the cities of Edora and Cales. Queen Mary, intent on defeating these pirates, could not yet find the location of their base; so she signed orders to triple the size of the Navy around the Great Northern homeland and recruit numerous additional divisions from lands abroad to provide regular patrol and coverage over the Northern part of the Circlarian Ocean, as well as the Galapolgis Islands. By 1045, the Navy presence quota was achieved, as the Great North arguably became the most significant power in the Circlarian Realm.

Meanwhile, in 1041, blue-diamond coal sand mines in the Moorlands began to run dry, leading to a rise in prices and temporary slowing in industry. In response to this, Queen Mary launched an agenda for a Circlarian-wide search for additional reserves. In 1044, large reserves, even larger than the ones in the Moorlands, were discovered throughout Southeast Hobland. To this area, the Queen launched numerous military agendas for tighter control, as land was sold and partitioned off to various Great Northern companies for mining. By 1046, the early blue-diamond coal sands crisis was resolved.

Succession of Great Northern Monarchies: 1037-1079

King Philip and Queen Mary were coronated on 14 May 998, bringing into existence the Kingdom of the Great North. As mentioned above, King Philip ruled until his death in 1037. Queen Mary then continued her rule over the Great North until her death in 1051, arguably the apex for the expansive empire. Mary was succeeded by her daughter, Queen Alexandra, who would rule until the year 1079.

George Benson: The First Invasion of Prove

Born in Cales in the year 1018, George Benson would come to have a distinguished career in the Great Northern Navy, contributing greatly to the keeping of the pirates at bay during the attacks of 1039. He was then promoted to Admiral and assigned to command a Fleet which covered Vantacula and a section of the Eastern Galapolgis Islands.

Benson was descended from the Weller family on his mother's side. He was embarrassed and begrudging of Jacob I's decision to abandon the Edoran Kingdom, while he was proud of Jacob II's choice to return and restore the Edoran Kingdom from the Kramers. As discovered later through personal memoirs, though, Jacob II had an agenda to defeat and bring Prove under Edoran influence, but died before that ever happened. George Benson felt that it was his calling to fulfill the latter agenda, but, in order to gain approval from Queen Alexandra, had to find a reasonable cause.

During the late 1050s and early 1060s, numerous pirate attacks became problematic throughout the Galapolgis region. Of this, Benson took advantage, claiming to the Queen, in a proposition he made to her in 1061, that these pirates were headed by the King of Prove, who was planning a large-scale and coordinated assault on the Great Northern homeland. He then asked to have at his disposal a division each of the Navy, Infantry, Cavalry, and aerovehicles (part of the Navy at this point) to attack and defeat the Provan Kingdom, and establish it as a Great Northern territory. However, upon viewing evidence suggesting otherwise that a pirate base was found on a Galapolgis Island closer to Southern Remikra, and upon knowing of his history and suspecting of his personal agenda, Queen Alexandra denied Admiral George Benson even admission to her Personal Council. To the rejection letter, Benson composed a refutation, alleging that her sources should be questioned. The Queen responded to this by re-assigning Benson to command a Navy Fleet along the West Coast of Tandeiyah, located further North and much further from Canticula.

Frustrated by this, Benson remained determined to carry out his quest.

In October 1062, the Admiral of the Navy Fleet North of where Benson was stationed was dispatched temporarily to address a pirate attack elsewhere, leaving Benson in charge of both Fleets. It was in this moment that Benson saw an opportunity, as he had enough soldiers to carry out an invasion. In the weeks that ensued, he withheld distributions of "The Soldiers' Note," a pamphlet that served as communication between soldiers and Great Northern society, and replaced such a medium with his own pamphlet falsely depicting the Queen addressing a "Provan Threat." As he trained the soldiers for an invasion of Prove, he arranged a supply line and purchased large amounts of coal sands from Hobland, withholding letters of such which were addressed to the Crown. On 17 March 1063, Benson and the two Fleets under his command launched, setting out across the Circlarian Ocean bound for Prove.

On 17 October 1063, Benson's fleet arrived in the Bay of Prove, where Benson's ships fired upon the stone cannon turrets of Provan defenses. The Provans, however, retaliated with "house cannons," cannons hidden in the roofs of homes and shops. Furthermore, Queen Alexandra, having soon heard of Benson's hidden agenda, cut off his supply line. As a result, a majority of Benson's ships were destroyed, as large numbers of casualties were inflicted; and Provan ships soon closed on Benson's. On the last day of the month, Benson surrendered and was taken prisoner.

On 4 March 1064, Provan authorities received a letter from Queen Alexandra ordering the extradition of Benson back to the Great North homeland. Upon return to the Great North on 7 June 1064, Benson was discharged from the Navy and sent to work as a member of the Royal Shipbuilding Guild in St. Eschel. The Queen, furthermore, issued an order for blue-diamond coal sands in the Hoblandish colonies to never again supply fuel to Benson.

The Great North: Tension with the Motanian Empire

Throughout the 1050s and 1060s, the Great North continued gaining land to the East in Northern Canticula. But in October 1064, at the Curatoring River, Great Northerners spotted the Motanian Empire on the opposite bank, as the river served as a border between the two powers. Tension soon developed at the center of which was, in the River, an island containing a great amount of valuable iron ore. Such buildup of friction was preceded, also, by indirect hostility with the Motanians, as independent merchants loyal to each side fought one another. The two powers were equally matched in military and firearms, as it seemed more and more likely that there would be a major conflict; and during this time, the Kingdom of Prove signed an alliance with the Motanians.

George Benson: The Second Invasion of Prove

It was during such buildup of tension between the Motanians and the Great Northerners that George Benson escaped from his post in the Shipbuilding Guild and returned to the Navy, disguised as a freshman recruit. Under this guise, he secretly re-connected with some of his old loyal soldiers while recruiting new followers. He traveled to various locations where he did this, and after determining that he recruited as many people as possible, snuck away with them from each former location and traveling to the new one. By the time he convened with all of them on the Island of Vantacula, their numbers were equal to that of three Navy Fleets, more than he had for the first invasion. In Vantacula, he implemented the same agenda of withholding pamphlets and replacing them with propaganda, except this wave of propaganda depicted Prove as a threat and condemned the Queen for ignoring this. As he trained his recruits, Benson arranged for a secret transaction of coal sands from the Hoblandish colonies, disguising himself in the appropriate letters as the Queen and employing the same methods of withholding any paperwork from the actual Crown. He then arranged a secret supply line, this time with the assistance of the nation of Wannonia. And on 5 January 1067, he and his three Fleets launched for Prove.

They arrived in Prove on 16 June 1067, where they found the Kingdom of Prove noticeably weakened from a war it was fighting in the Red Desert. Benson's ships fired upon Provan defenses, once again. This time, Provan defenses failed; and Benson's soldiers stormed the city, forcing the Provan King to flee. In his place, George Benson crowned himself the King.

Alarmed by this and by news that a messenger ship was hurrying toward Motan, Queen Alexandra of the Great North scrambled five Navy Fleets to confront Benson. On 1 September 1067, these Navy ships arrived in the Bay of Prove and opened fire, toppling Benson's regime within three days, and forcing the defective Admiral to surrender. He was immediately placed under arrest by Great Northern authorities and sent back to the Great North. Other Great Northern ships rushed to the East to send the approaching Motanian Navy a signal of peace, as a Council was called in Prove in October 1067. Here, a peace treaty was finally signed between the Great North and the Motanian Empire and the Provan Kingdom re-established.

Meanwhile, George Benson was tried and convicted of treason, which would have warranted a death sentence. However, being indirectly related to royal blood, Benson was, instead, sentenced to exile in Northern Hobland, in present-day Notulfa and away from the Great Northern colonies.

The Hobland Independence War: 1068-1076

The Great Northern colonies in Hobland held great value to the Kingdom, as they contained 80 percent of the supply of blue-diamond coal sands. However, the colonists and local inhabitants were unhappy with the Great Northern Crown, voicing grievances of high taxation, lack of voice in Parliament, harsh mining conditions, lack of proper payment for labor, and exploitation of resources. Queen Alexandra, concerned primarily with Benson and Motanian affairs, as well as persistent pirate attacks in the Galapolgis region, failed to adhere to the colonists' and locals' numerous petitions. As a result, on 1 May 1068, the colonies declared independence and waged war upon the present Great Northern forces.

The Hobland Independence War carried brutal and costly resistance against the Great North, as revolutionaries seized large swaths of precious coal sand reserves, choking off its supply and beginning an economic crisis in the once-prosperous Kingdom.

<- 998 to 1026 <- || -> 1073 to 1085 ->

[the-firebird69]

Feel some wise asses but this and I have to say it but the rest of them will be less wise asses or it's kind of both an extra having less steam because of it I was trying to cause heat and steem massive amounts of it far too much

-we're seeing a huge huge burden lifted here no and it's not like a massive burden and they're not causing tons of trouble they might but that's where they're living and they're trying to know but they are focusing on the Max and they should be there the ones giving them problems is it an ongoing situation and it is very tired and they are getting some help and they're seeking more from the clones who seem to have some skills it's an ongoing situation and it's very dangerous

-there's other things happening they are working on getting things straightened out here and trying other things they're getting plans together for this weekend they're also trying to organize a force to try and break through the rings to retake Charlotte county.

-they have lost quite a few positions pushed out or they're beating out or made to leave and they are significant jobs and throughout the state really they're trying to repay and they're losing all over the state which is not normal but as the city is heat up and the pseudo empire loses positions they're coming here in areas and it's because of a large number of groups also they are fairly big they come down here and they take over an entire area or sector which is like a county and they enforce it they have been enforce it but without spaceships it's going to be kind of hard it's going to be a heartache again and the difficult dance maybe not as long we think that they're not going to do well against the empire even with foreigners along they will come down here and the warlock are getting cut off it's an increasing trend. Constant too.

-there's a few more things going on there are several individuals who are saying things to our son things are talking to him and it's kind of nasty but we have huge things happening this evacuation is starting in the upper Midwest the cone of the Midwest and the river areas it's pretty big this time this morning was huge and there's tons of rainwater coming out by the time you get down there tomorrow morning again and it should have flashed most of it out and the muck is coming out of the river and the harbors of South Florida mostly South Florida some of it's coming out of the north but not much probably a total of a half a foot but we have had two feet of muck come out over the past 3 days out of the river and the harbors and it's mostly in the middle of the river about 40 ft wide and 80 ft wide in the harbor and it's created a current because water falls into it from the edges and flows and makes it faster and it actually creates a suction effect and helps to drain the harbor faster some ships came out today applied to them the rate of falling is faster we calculated 2 ft to 3 in of a drop total but by the end of tonight tomorrow morning before the rain hits around 8:00 a.m. we think that it will have dropped a total of about 2 ft 7 in roughly and that is about 31 in and it's the height of our son's seat on his bike last week it's not really huge. And take into account that in the middle of the stream at the drop was about 3 ft so far by tomorrow morning it will be about 4 ft 6 and that's pretty deep. Because the water has dropped significantly and it really has there are several factors that occur the muck is going to flow out faster about 3 to 6 in a day faster it was coming out at 3 to 6 in so it'll be 6 in to a foot a day and recently it's been a foot because of the volume and it is a exponential curve. On Monday the water would have dropped about 37 in which is great it's just over 3 ft. And we're getting there it's going to be 8 ft total but the diamonds are not even out and it's the whole peninsula and we calculate this going to stay there with what's cleared and they're clearing more and more so we hope that the forecast is for less water the mark of course will increase in clearing there will be by Monday morning we said 31 in and we expect it and that is a lot so Tuesday morning would probably be like 47 in and it's going to continue to go upwards there's about 40 ft of stuff down there there's a ton of it the center area in the middle is now about 14 ft deep and it was about 10 ft deep this really deeper in the middle but it's a very middle it does make a difference the flow rate will be faster it's going to be faster and faster it's by the way of Mark and it falls out all the way out to sea what a hundred miles in a big plume of crappy and the algae growing is healthy oxygen levels by Monday will have increased to about 20% at night and it wasn't really doing it before and it's going to be awesome 20% is very high and it's only been about 15% at night and abysmal during the day sometimes it shoots up to about 30 when he gets a headache but other people get a lot worse

-some of the things are happening there are McDonald's and Stan and Biden coming in here and they are looking ordering and they're trying to set up a sheriff station so far it's been threatened about 500 times with 100 series threats and 10 are verifiable five were physically delivered and one or two of them they arrested people on site had to start. They're preparing to move in and gathering their forces and they're going to try and stay in that area and they will try and make it bigger and they fight each other a lot of fun some minorities some Max in US we will be about 10% eventually minority murlock will start out at 15 and minorities will be at 5% to start so really all together 25% to start but the clones will be about 10%. It's 35% and more like will still be around and fighting them fiercely they'll be at about 5% in Florida and it's going to be a constant thing with them coming in and getting chased and forcing her way in and causing trouble and more

-we have more to speak to it seems to be uncomfortable for some reason it's only 5:00 but people are saying you should move on but that's not why it's good to do some maintenance and just deciding whether you're drinking a snack here or not so be back in a moment

Thor Freya

Once I get a stand for I do see what you're saying so it's worth thinking about

Hera there's a lot of stuff going on construction is starting because factories are starting and yeah I focused on that I did notice it but I heard you and it's good we're getting a lot of that activity it's great and housing happens shortly after it's terrific all sorts of vehicles are selling now and we're going to have our car we have a design but you can't issue it without someone doing it and it does look like a different car it was already made so we're going to have to find that and no it's not our car from Michigan

Hera

It's a famous car was made in the 80s so it should be too hard

Olympus

[titoist]

ok now's the time that i paste all the invisibile cities i've read that really struck me, while at the same time providing a fitting background track. shifts around in seat. gimme a moment folks. [...] p. 62-63

The Great Khan has dreamed of a city; he describes it to Marco Polo: The harbor faces north, in shadow. The docks are high over the black water, which slams against the retaining walls; stone steps descend, made slippery by seaweed. Boats smeared with tar are tied up, waiting for the departing passengers lingering on the quay to bid their families farewell. The farewells take place in silence, but with tears. It is cold; all wear shawls over their heads. A shout from the boatman puts a stop to the delays; the traveler huddles at the prow, moves off looking toward the group of those remaining behind; from the shore his features can no longer be discerned, the boat draws up beside a vessel riding at anchor; on the ladder a diminished form climbs up, vanishes; the rusted chain is heard being raised, scraping against the hawsepipe. The people remaining behind look over the ramparts above the rocks of the pier, their eyes following the ship until it rounds the cape; for the last time they wave a white rag. "Set out, explore every coast, and seek this city," the Khan says to Marco. "Then come back and tell me if my dream corresponds to reality." "Forgive me, my lord, there is no doubt that sooner or later I shall set sail from that dock," Marco says, "but shall not come back to tell you about it. The city exists and it has a simple secret: it knows only departures, not returns."

[…] p. 66-67

Lips clenched on the pipe's amber stem, his beard flattened against his amethyst choker, his big toes nervously arched in his silken slippers, Kublai Khan listened to Marco Polo's tales without raising an eyebrow. These were the evenings when a shadow of hypochondria weighed on his heart. "Your cities do not exist. Perhaps they have never existed. It is sure they will never exist again. Why do you amuse yourself with consolatory fables? I know well that my empire is rotting like a corpse in a swamp, whose contagion infects the crows that peck at it as well as the bamboo that grows, fertilized by its humors. Why do you not speak to me of this? Why do you lie to the emperor of the Tartars, foreigner?" Polo knew it was best to fall in line with the emperor's dark mood. "Yes, the empire is sick, and, what is worse, it is trying to become accustomed to its sores. This is the aim of my explorations: examining the traces of happiness still to he glimpsed, I gauge its short supply. If you want to know how much darkness is around you, you must sharpen your eyes, peering at the faint lights in the distance." At other times, however, the Khan was seized by fits of euphoria. He would rise up on his cushions, measure with long strides the carpets spread over the path of his feet, look out from the balustrades of the terraces to survey dazzled eye the expanse of the palace gardens lighted by the lanterns hung from the cedars. "And yet I know," he would say, "that my empire is made of the stuff of crystals, its molecules arranged in a perfect pattern. Amid the surge of the elements, a splendid hard diamond takes shape, an immense, faceted, transparent mountain. Why do your travel impressions stop at disappointing appearances, never catching this implacable process? Why do you linger over inessential melancholies? Why do you hide from the emperor the grandeur of his destiny?" And Marco answered: "While, at a sign from you, sire, the unique and final city raises its stainless walls, I am collecting the ashes of the other possible cities that vanish to make room for it, cities that can never be rebuilt or remembered. When you know at last the residue of unhappiness for which no precious stone can compensate, you will be able to calculate the exact number of carats toward which that final diamond must strive. Otherwise, your calculations will be mistaken from the very start."

[…] p. 71-72

When he enters the territory of which Eutropia is the capital, the traveler sees not one city but many, of equal size and not unlike one another, scattered over a vast, rolling plateau. Eutropia is not one, but all these cities together; only one is inhabited at a time, the others are empty; and this process is carried out in rotation. Now I shall tell you how. On the day when Eutropia's inhabitants feel the grip of weariness and no one can bear any longer his job, his relatives, his house and his life, debts, the people he must greet or who greet him, then the whole citizenry decides to move to the next city, which is there waiting for them, empty and good as new; there each will take up a new job, a different wife, will see another landscape on opening his window, and will spend his time with different pastimes, friends, gossip. So their life is renewed from move to move, among cities whose exposure or declivity or streams or winds make each site somehow different from the others. Since their society is ordered without great distinctions of wealth or authority, the passage from one function to another takes place almost without jolts; variety is guaranteed by the multiple assignments, so that in the span of a lifetime a man rarely returns to a job that has already been his. Thus the city repeats its life, identical, shifting up and down on its empty chessboard. The inhabitants repeat the same scenes, with the actors changed; they repeat the same speeches with variously combined accents; they open alternate mouths in identical yawns. Alone, among all the cities of the empire, Eutropia remains always the same. Mercury, god of the fickle, to whom the city is sacred, worked this ambiguous miracle.

[…] p. 74-75

There is little I can tell you about Aglaura beyond the things its own inhabitants have always repeated: an array of proverbial virtues, of equally proverbial faults, a few eccentricities, some punctilious regard for rules. Ancient observers, whom there is no reason not to presume truthful, attributed to Aglaura its enduring assortment of qualities, surely comparing them to those of the other cities of their times. Perhaps neither the Aglaura that is reported nor the Aglaura that is visible has greatly changed since then, but what was bizarre has become usual, what seemed normal is now an oddity, and virtues and faults have lost merit or dishonor in a code of virtues and faults differently distributed. In this sense, nothing said of Aglaura is true, and yet these accounts create a solid and compact image of a city, whereas the haphazard opinions which might be inferred from living there have less substance. This is the result: the city that they speak of has much of what is needed to exist, whereas the city that exists on its site, exists less. So if I wished to describe Aglaura to you, sticking to what I personally saw and experienced, I should have to tell you that it is a colorless city, without character, planted there at random. But this would not be true, either: at certain hours, in certain places along the street, you see opening before you the hint of something unmistakable, rare, perhaps magnificent; you would like to say what it is, but everything previously said of Aglaura imprisons your words and obliges you to repeat rather than say. Therefore, the inhabitants still believe they live in an Aglaura which grows only with the name Aglaura and they do not notice the Aglaura that grows on the ground. And even I, who would like to keep the two cities distinct in my memory, can speak only of the one, because the recollection of the other, in the lack of words to fix it, has been lost.

[...] ok now this next one's gonna be real good. so g-g-g-g-g-g-ggg-gg-g-GET hyped p. 76

"From now on, I'll describe the cities to you," the Khan had said, "in your journeys you will see if they exist." But the cities visited by Marco Polo were always different from those thought of by the emperor. "And yet I have constructed in my mind a model city from which all possible cities can be deduced," Kublai said. "It contains everything corresponding to the norm. Since the cities that exist diverge in varying degree from the norm, I need only foresee the exceptions to the norm and calculate the most probable combinations." "I have also thought of a model city from which I deduce all the others," Marco answered. "It is a city made only of exceptions, exclusions, incongruities, contradictions. If such a city is the most improbable, by reducing the number of abnormal elements, we increase the probability that the city really exists. So I have only to subtract exceptions from my model, and in whatever direction I proceed, I will arrive at one of the cities which, always as an exception, exist. But I cannot force my operation beyond a certain limit: I would achieve cities too probable to be real."

[retvenkos]

Like Rabbits and Poets ( they’re born to be killed. )

♠  A Grishaverse Story — Post Crooked Kingdom, Pre-Rule of Wolves.     Minimal spoilers.

♠  Kaz Brekker & Reader Series, non-endgame.

♠  status: in-progress!

♠  genre: angst, former relationship, occasionally dark      (chapter specific content warnings will be included on their separate posts)

♠  a note about ages: this series uses character ages based off of the netflix show (roughly early-to-mid 20s) for a myriad of reasons, including (but not limited to): dark aesthetics, mentions of history/years past, substance use, and sexual themes (not involving kaz). 

and perhaps the real monster is dead; perhaps you killed him, and perhaps i am digging his grave.

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠

IT’S A DARK NIGHT in Ketterdam when an unmarked ship pulls into harbor. A small group of Kaelish are deposited on the dark shore, like leftover cargo of little value. The only witness is a Grisha leaving for Fjerda, recognition glinting in her grief stricken eyes. Her whispers reach far, and it’s a mournful night in Ketterdam when Kaz Brekker hears the news the docks bring him - mournful like a dying star, deadly like a scream on the pavement.

It’s a dark night in Ketterdam when the con begins - it always is, and it always will be. Come light, something will be dead and someone will be broken in two. But who can say how? And who can say who? Only Ghezen knows, and all that gleams in the god’s minds eye are diamonds.

INSTALLMENTS: ( also updates on ao3! )

part i — bottlenecked: and in the beginning, it’s a shadow that approaches with a con and a silver dagger.

     ♠ first intermission

part ii — decaying: the con begins - and like it always does, it begs for those little lies and those ever changing deceits.

    ♠ second intermission

part iii — monsters: something growing within the kaelish boys, and you must gnaw at all they have to give.

   ♠ third intermission

part iv — venom: the past is digging in it’s claws, but so is the truth.

                                         to be continued in 2023...

EXTRAS: [ feel free to ask for short headcanons, lore, and more about the series! ]

a silent lover — headcanons about kaz and the opera singer, before their story begins, and before the rot has settled between them.

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠

playlist: flowers — eva noblezada  ||  lay this body down — bernard butler, cosmo sheldrake, sam lee  ||  mausoleum — rafferty  ||  like real people do — hozier  ||  the mercy seat (live at kcrw) - nick cave & the bad seeds

I’m adding my Grishaverse taglist — if you want to be taken off or added, message me or comment on this post.

♠ @starkeysslut, @musicallisto, @catsbooksandmusic, @thefifthweasley, @thegirlwhocriedwerewolf, @amirahiddleston, @ellora-brekker​​​, @amortensie, @permanentreverie,  @teaand-dreams, @ughgclden, @konepmi, @mystic-writings, @sunny-reys, @brekkers-desigirl​, @mylifeofcalculatedchaos​, @dontworrycherry​​​ ​

[angelsxbelle]

growing up in love with you.

w/ oikawa, kuroo, and daichi

helloooo my beautiful beans:) i’m here to feed you with some more hurt comfort headcanons/scenarios since we’re all lonely and in love with anime boys :’)))

likes and reblogs are very appreciated!!!

genre: fluff and angst, hurt comfort, slice of life

pairings: oikawa x reader, daichi x reader, kuroo x reader x fem! reader

listen to: line without a hook, ricky montgomery

@moonhere​ i’m pretty sure this was your request with oikawa i’m so sorry this took so long omg

note: takes place during timeskip so beware of spoilers!!

warnings: mentions of violence, mentions of female anatomy and pronouns

oikawa, TOORU

oikawa tooru appears to have his life together on the outside, but in his mind he still feels like he’ll never be enough

in your relationship, he’s worked impossibly hard to better himself to the point where he’s not insecure which would cause a strain on the both of you, but he still has moments where he lets himself become consumed in his own thoughts

being with you has been possibly the best thing ever to happen to him, but at the same time he’s still terrified of losing you

when his worries start to consume him again, he can’t stop obsessively worrying over the possibility that you’ll find someone better than him, that you deserve someone better than him

oikawa can sometimes hide his insecurities by acting cocky, but you’ve gotten good at reading him so you can easily tell when he’s feeling insecure or unsure of himself

so when it springs up that you’ve been invited to your cousin’s wedding along with a plus one, he’s more than happy to accompany you as he loves fancy events like weddings

you make the preparations together, he helps you pick out a gift for the couple while you go shopping for a new dress to wear

overall, you’re both excited to make the journey back to your hometown to watch your cousin make his marriage official, you both know the ceremony will probably be amazing, as well as the festivities after

when you get there, you’re both immediately swarmed by relatives, exclaiming how excited they are to meet your longtime boyfriend and how happy they are to see everyone together

as the ceremony starts, you’re both on the edges of your seats waiting as you see the bride delicately step past you down the aisle, waiting to secure her vows with your cousin

the formalities went amazing, as all of your relatives sat in tears as the couple at the podium exchanged beautiful vows and the rings were slipped on each others’ fingers

after, everyone moved to the building next door as the wedding was help at a chapel at the edge of a forest, with the after party being a building next to it, walls made of glass so the guests could view the beautiful scenery outside

tooru is more than willing to show off his dancing skills at the beginning, and dinner goes well before your relatives and family get together to do group dances and disperse into separate conversations afterwards

as the lights get dimmer and the atmosphere of the party start to settle, tooru sits at your table as he watches you chatter away with your relatives.

he watches as you speak with such ease, never failing to coax a laugh out of even your stoniest aunts, he can’t help but think to himself how beautiful you are, and how incredibly lucky he is to have you

another man, he recognizes as the best man strolls up to you, striking up a conversation with you.

tooru knows it’s probably nothing, just a conversation, and he also knows you would never do anything to hurt him, so he’s content just watching you talk with someone else.

he watches the scene unfold like a movie, with him as a part of the background, just watching, waiting.

before, tooru would have been filled with a familiar uneasy feeling right about now, his stomach twisting uncomfortably in his body, mind filled with thoughts he wishes weren’t there.

he could only have hoped he was good enough for you.

thinking back through all the years with you, the memories, he remembers all the times you saved him from himself, the world, anything that had ever hurt him.

it was back in high school, the first day of oikawa tooru’s first year of high school, he walked around with his head held high to keep anyone from seeing how low he felt, cocky smirk to hide just how unsure he really was of himself.

it wasn’t love at first, he didn’t particularly remember the first time he saw you, but step by step as you got closer to him he realized that you had one thing his fangirls could never give him, stability, comfort, and home.

he found home in you every time it hurt too much.

the feeling that could only possibly have imprinted itself into oikawa’s conscience was the feeling of being seen for who he truly was, a feeling that he had almost never felt before.

and as you saw him, he saw you the same way in that you could always depend on each other, for every painful moment, every failure, every insecurity.

 it was then that he knew he really was in love with you.

even as he cried with his face in your lap in his third year you were still there, running your fingers through his hair and reminding him that he was enough and that you couldn’t be more proud of him.

and as he packed his bags to fly halfway across the world, he watched you cry as he couldn’t believe how much he meant to you.

the final weeks you had leading up to your graduation, you spent as much time with each other as possible, desperately trying to keep hold of the fleeting moments passing between you.

as you stood together in the tokyo national airport looking out at the window over the scenery of the country he had once called home, clutching a letter for him containing everything you had ever felt for him and wanted him to know before he left.

he looked at you with tears in his eyes, like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on, saying goodbye for the last time.

the years you were apart as you finished university while he was overseas felt like a time of awakening, so much had changed in what felt like moments, both without what mattered most.

and he knew while he was gone there were many more people who could’ve found you like he did, and that there was nothing he could do to stop it.

the trust he had in you was all he needed to keep going, that when you came to meet him you would still love him the way you always did.

when you finally, came, and all was said and done, he felt like he never wanted to let go of you as he had you in his arms again, he had almost forgotten what it felt like to have the love of his life so close to him.

sometimes he still wonders why chose him, but it’s enough for him to remember that you did, and that you’ll never let go of him.

the song in the reception hall changes, and tooru snaps out of the flashback that had taken over him for who knows how long.

you walk over to him and you look even more beautiful than he remembered, saying, “tooru! come over here and dance with me!”

he smiles and takes your hand, fingers delicately brushing the diamond on your finger he had carefully picked out all that time ago, that you had both cried tears of joy over when he stood on the top of the mountain to make things forever, thinking he was the happiest man alive.

you were always with him, from when he was an insecure teenager to the words san juan reading on his back. 

he can’t even fathom how much it means to him as he holds you close to him, one hand on your shoulders and the other on your middle, round and full with his baby, how he’ll never get tired of love like this.

he kisses your forehead and says, “anytime you want baby”.

kuroo, TETSURO

despite his sarcastic and confident manner as he had grown up, kuroo was shy as a small child

he had a hard time making friends in elementary school at first, but that didn’t stop him from meeting people he would care about for the rest of his life, that he would cherish forever

on his first day of kindergarten, he only knew kenma who was also shy and mostly kept to himself during the day

but there was one other person who was there for him, the little girl who stood next to him when no one would, who asked him what his name was and held his hand on the playground

and so you and kuroo tetsuro became best friends, along with kenma, holding a bond that wouldn’t be separated even when you graduated

it felt like time had gone by in a blur, like the memories slipped through his fingers like water, and now you were all fully grown adults with jobs, with lives, with purposes

and now, it was the tokyo 2021 olympics and kuroo tetsuro was getting ready to watch the competitions with his associates and friends, ready to watch his old friends and acquaintances on japan’s national team 

he felt like he could get lost in an ocean of people, but he spots you in the crowd immediately, he could spot your face anytime, anywhere

and so he meets you as you take your places, ready to watch the game begin

as he sees his old friends on the court together, he can’t help but to start remembering his high school days, when you were still young

it doesn’t help either that kuroo becomes painfully aware again of the way that he had been pining for you for all those years, even being one of the smartest people in his grade he still felt like the biggest idiot for just standing back and watching you grow, away from him

sometimes he wishes he could have turned back time, just to go back and tell you how he really felt earlier

but he let the years pass by, watching you drift slowly apart as he harbored his own feeling in order to avoid being rejected

now that you’re both graduated adults with careers and life paths, kuroo’s feelings are still very much present and if anything, he wants to try just one more time to prove he still cares

so he sits next to you, looking over at your gentle face as he takes in your features once again, watching your lips move slightly as you breathe in and out, and he remembers there was once nothing he would do in the world to give up being with you, wishing he had said something sooner

kuroo glances up as he starts to think back on all the times he could have told you how he really felt, all the times he screwed up worse than he could even imagine.

it was your first boyfriend having graduated high school, some douchebag kuroo couldn’t even be bothered to learn the name of.

but what he felt could never be forgotten, as he watched you walk away with another man’s arm around your lower back, pulling you close in a way that he had always dreamed of doing to you but couldn’t.

he was bitter, cold, in a way that he shouldn’t ever have been.

it’s your own dumbass fault, he thought, but that didn’t make him any less hurt or angry at what he had let happen. were you even happy? did someone else other than him make you happy?

he let himself grow apart from you ever so slightly, you saw him just as often and still cared for him just as much, but you could tell there was something he was keeping from you that even he couldn’t admit to himself.

kuroo thought it was over when you said yes to someone else, but here he was holding you in his arms as you cried with a bruised face and shattered heart.

all he could think about was how this would never happened if you picked him, but he was so pathetic he couldn’t even make it happen past his imagination, but no matter how angry or upset he was you still came first.

and he kept that promise as you got older, all he would do was care for you silently as he witnessed your life through the glass that separated you, that he could break but wasn’t strong enough to, no matter how much it hurt.

“are you coming tetsu- chan?”

it was the summer before first grade, he was hiding under the overhang of a bus stop with his hood over his small face, quivering on the ground in a crouched position.

kuroo’s seven year old self looked up at your small face, a hand outstretched as you held your way too big umbrella over your head, waiting for him to say something in return.

he had always hated thunderstorms, he hated the way it felt like the sound and violence swallowed him up, the same way it felt when his parents yelled at each other as he stood in the doorway of his bedroom watching from a distance.

he looked around at the dark gray skies engulfing him, the small threads of lightning painting the skies like blood vessels, wishing it would all go away.

but you still stood there as the rain poured down in your rain coat and small red boots as you waited for him to come out.

he reluctantly started to crawl out slowly, as you inched closer to where he was previously hunched, waiting for him to reach you.

as you stood just past the overhang, he stuck his hand out timidly and you wrapped your fingers around it, giving his hand a small squeeze before you started to walk towards your house together.

he shivered the whole way there, and every time you heard thunder crack in the distance he held your hand a little bit tighter.

when you got home your mother freaked out and called his family so they weren’t worried about him, and then got out warm towels and told the both of you to go take a bath so you wouldn’t catch a cold.

after you were both warm and dry and wrapped up in soft pajamas, which he had borrowed, kuroo felt oddly at home, like he never wanted to leave the safe place he had with you.

even as you had set up a futon for him on the floor, after about 30 minutes of being terrified of the sounds rattling your house he asked to get closer, and you shifted as he crawled into bed with you.

when you woke up in the morning he was fast asleep with your favorite stuffed animal clutched in his arms, a soft expression on his face, and you couldn’t help but think how peaceful he looked.

the truth is, as you made friends with the small boy in your kindergarten class you had already told stories with your dolls and toys saying you were going to marry him one day.

at 13 you had wondered why he never talked about liking any other girls, you had worried he wasn’t interested in anyone at all.

and at 19 you had tried to move on but it was just too hard.

every time you had fallen you were always there for each other, through all the scraped knees, thunderstorms, and broken hearts.

you only wished you could tell each other what your relationship really meant, what you wanted it to be.

and as kuroo sits in the stands of his friends’ volleyball game, he wonders the same thing that you do.

“y/n- chan, will you be my girlfriend?”

sawamura, DAICHI

being in the same class as daichi in your first year of high school had been interesting, he was rather ordinary looking but you couldn’t help but notice how hard working and kind he was, his energy drew others close to him and you could see why he was admired by many

you didn’t pay much attention to it as you were a bit shy about talking to new people and you didn’t want him to think you were trying to hard, so you kept your distance until you were paired together for a project

you were quiet at first as you sat next to him at your desk since he was a bit intimidating, but as soon as he started talking you felt yourself ease up around him, something about the way he spoke was comforting and it felt like you were at home with him even as you sat inside school

you had started to come up with a plan for your project, and you basfully said, “i’m not that good at english, so i hope it won’t be hard for you to deal with me or anything”, not thinking too much about it

“don’t say that, i’m sure you’re great and you should have more confidence in yourself, it will be better for you”, you hear him say firmly but gently from next to you at the desk

your cheeks flush with warmth and you look down, not sure what to say to him next, but he starts talking about your project plans so you turned around to pay attention to what he was saying

things went well with your assignment and you both received a good grade from your teacher, the school day was about to end as it was your last class and you were about to walk through the door when you felt a hand grasp yours and you turned around to face him

“u-uhm, i really had a nice time getting to know you while we were working together and i was wondering if you maybe wanted to be friends”

it was the first time you had ever seen him look flustered or anything of the sort, but you were happy to oblige since you had had just a nice time getting to know him as well

 you smiled softly and walked away, feeling excited at the possibility of getting closer to sawamura daichi as he had intrigued you so much in the couple of weeks that you had known him

and so years later after that time you had first met, you were still around each other, he was one of the best things that had ever happened to you

it was a reunion between his old high school volleyball team, you had known how close they were as you were with him during his final year when karasuno had gone to nationals, and how much his old teammates meant to him and the relationship they had

and so you both made your way over to the tanaka residence with a dish you had cooked in your hands, both excited to see your old friends again and witness the ways they had all grown up and changed

as soon as you walked in the door, all the memories you had made in high school came flooding back at the sight of your friends’ faces, although it was strange seeing how much older they looked.

daichi wonders if he looks that old to them too, sometimes he forgets how much time has passed since they graduated.

it felt like it had been only a moment since he had stood in karasuno high school’s gym barking at hinata and kageyama to get themselves together, with sugawara and tanaka laughing in the background and asahi watching with a fearful expression.

and now they were all grown adults, with lives and jobs and homes, some with lovers and some with dreams that came to life.

he couldn’t be more proud of who they all became, the boys he once knew to be scrawny and mischievous would now be standing on the world’s stage and others who had followed their passions found love in what they did.

still, sometimes daichi still can’t help but wonder if you wanted more, when he saw his old teammates and acquaintances from other schools play on national teams and be watched by thousands around the world.

he wonders if you’re still satisfied with just him.

daichi knows he’s not the most flashy guy out there, but you chose him out of everyone else, right?

he remembers all of those times in high school and when you had graduated that people wondered why why you were with him, couldn’t you have found someone a little more interesting, someone special?

daichi isn’t the type to let his emotions get the better of him, but it stung.

it stung bad.

and yet, he knew he couldn’t lose himself just because of some insecurities, things that didn’t really mean anything, but still wormed their way into his head like maggots growing in a corpse.

sometimes he thinks about the boyfriends you had before him, how he wasn’t anything like them, he was unsure if it was a good thing or a bad thing that he was the odd one out. 

all his life he had felt painfully....average.

he wondered why people would forget his name just after talking to him, or why they would mistake him for other people, was he really that forgettable.

it felt sometimes like he was just another face in the crowd, sometimes he wondered if that was the way you saw him at first too.

what daichi didn’t know is how you had always seen him, someone reliable, special, valuable like no one else had been to you.

that he had always stuck out to you, he didn’t seem like anyone else in the sense that he always stepped up and did what needed to be done, you hadn’t seen a heart like his in anyone else your entire life.

he didn’t realize how in every class you had together, he was the one that you stared at, that you saw as beacon of hope out of everything you had faced in your life up until then.

daichi’s friends and family had always looked up to him, he didn’t always realize it but they saw him as a hero to everyone he helped, whether he did it intentionally or not.

through you, daichi was able to see himself the way that everyone else saw him.

when you said yes when he had asked you to marry him, it was cliche but he could’ve sworn he really was the luckiest man alive.

but the truth was he wasn’t lucky, he was more worthy than anyone else could be, the person who stayed by your side when no one else would and who made it seem like you were capable of anything.

you were living proof of just how special daichi sawamura was.

and on your wedding day, tears streamed down both of your faces as you got ready to read your vows to each other, because neither of you could fathom how much you meant to each other.

he couldn’t help but think how beautiful you looked standing in front of him , how he never wanted to let you go because you were worth more to him than anything else in his life.

in your vow, you told him just how much he meant to you, and how you were so incredibly lucky to have him, and he couldn’t help but let the tears slide down his cheeks because he loved you so damn much.

and as you sat on your living room couch with a pregnancy test in your hands he cried again because you made him happier than he could ever have wished to be.

it hurt him more than anything to see you in so much pain as you delivered your baby, but the amount of joy you’d bring into the world was more than worth it.

as you held your baby girl in your arms for the first time, he realized all he had ever needed in his life was right here, he wouldn’t have to search ever again.

it felt like she was growing bigger and bigger every day just in front of his eyes.

he knew one day she’d leave and grow up and have to let go, but for now she was still his and yours together.

and knew he was more special than anyone else in the world.

“honey, let’s go watch everyone in the living room, okay?”

you smiled, because the world had given you more than you could ever ask for, surrounded with beautiful people every day and given experiences you wouldn’t trade for the world.