#How to Decide: Simple Tools for Making Better Choices

[lovesaloris]

Through Ash and Iron (2)

Jinx x Reader x Caitlyn

Summary: Through Ash and Iron plunges you into the heart of Piltover’s gritty streets, where you’ve always felt the weight of your family’s failures. Rejected from the Junior Enforcer Program, your anger burns brighter than ever—until one fateful punch changes everything. The eyes of Piltover’s elite may look down on you, but it’s the wild eyes of Jinx that truly see you. She’s chaos personified, and you’re drawn to the destruction she promises. But that’s not all. Caitlyn Kiramman, a poised enforcer with a soft spot for rebels like you, offers you a chance to rewrite your future—if you can control the rage you can’t seem to escape.Torn between the order Caitlyn represents and the dangerous freedom Jinx offers, you stand at the crossroads of two worlds. As your power grows, so does the tension between these two women. One promises a chance at belonging, while the other ignites a fire you didn’t know you had. But the choices you make will change everything—not just for you, but for both cities teetering on the edge of war. Who will you choose? And how much of yourself will you lose along the way?

Warnings: Violence duh, gay panic(lol), cursing, all that jazz (whatever you seen in Arcane is what you gon see here)This is also a slight AU. (She/her)

Word Count: 5.9k

A/n: Reader is masc cause this was typically just for me to read but i decided to share it with you all so. Enjoy.

___________________________

The soft chime of a bell echoed through the modest shop as Caitlyn stepped inside. She adjusted the cuffs of her coat, scanning the space for you. The shop was a humble place—wooden counters, shelves stacked with tools and gadgets, and an air of organized clutter.

A middle-aged woman stood behind the counter, her brows furrowing in suspicion at Caitlyn’s pristine uniform. “Can I help you?” she asked, her tone sharp.

Caitlyn cleared her throat. “I’m looking for your daughter. She—uh—was released from custody yesterday. I wanted to check on her.”

The woman blinked, her suspicion giving way to surprise. “You’re a Kiramman, aren’t you?”

The name seemed to ripple through the shop like a shockwave. A boy, about fifteen with neatly combed hair and sharp, pale features, peeked out from the backroom, his expression caught between awe and curiosity. Caitlyn nodded politely, ignoring the knot forming in her stomach.

���She hasn’t been home,” the woman said with a shrug, her voice carrying an air of dismissal. “Not surprising, really. She’s always been… difficult.”

“Trouble, if we’re being honest,” added a man seated in the corner, presumably your father. He barely looked up from the newspaper he was skimming. “Never fit in, not like our boy here.”

The boy stood straighter at the mention, his demeanor clean and polished—a stark contrast to your rough edges.

Caitlyn’s gaze darted between them, the pieces slowly falling into place. There was something off about the dynamic, something deeper than simple familial tension. The more they talked about you, the more it became apparent that you were the outsider in your own family.

“And she’s nothing like the rest of us,” your mother continued, shaking her head. “Always running off, getting into fights… we’re better off when she’s not here causing trouble.”

Caitlyn’s heart sank, her chest tightening with unease. Her eyes drifted over to a family photo on the wall. The boy’s resemblance to his parents was undeniable. But you… you were missing from the picture entirely.

“Well,” Caitlyn said, forcing a polite smile, “thank you for your time.”

She turned on her heel and left, her thoughts racing as she stepped out into the bright morning light. “She doesn’t even look like them,” she muttered under her breath, her mind spiraling. “Something’s not right. I need help… and fast.”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔ 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 　

When you woke, your head pounded like a drum, and your body ached in ways you hadn’t felt in years. Your hands were bound behind you, ropes digging into your wrists, and the chair beneath you was cold and unsteady. The room smelled like oil and damp metal, the faint hum of machinery in the background.

You groaned, rolling your sore jaw. “What the hell…?”

“Good morning, sunshine,” came a gruff voice.

You lifted your head, blinking away the haze to see a tall woman leaning against the wall. Her broad shoulders were imposing, and her metallic arm gleamed in the dim light.

“Who are you?” you croaked, your voice hoarse.

“Sevika,” she said simply, stepping closer. “And you are?”

You squinted at her, confused and defiant. “Pretty sure you already know the answer to that if you went through the trouble of tying me up.”

Sevika smirked faintly. “I know what you are. A little street rat with a chip on her shoulder. But I’m curious about who you are… before you meet the person who asked for you.”

“Who?” you demanded, your mind racing.

Sevika ignored the question, circling you like a predator toying with its prey. “You don’t look like much,” she mused. “But I’ve heard stories. Fists like hammers, a temper to match. People like you don’t belong in Piltover.”

“And people like you don’t belong outside a junkyard,” you shot back, gritting your teeth.

Sevika chuckled darkly. “Cute. Got any other tricks, or is sarcasm your only weapon?”

“Let me go, and I’ll show you a few,” you snapped.

The banter continued, each of you trading barbs like a pair of prizefighters warming up before a match. The tension in the room thickened until the door creaked open, revealing Clagg. He was fidgety as ever, glancing nervously between you and Sevika.

“She’s coming,” Clagg announced, his tone almost reverent.

“About time,” Sevika muttered. She leaned down close to you, her metallic arm brushing against your cheek. “You’re lucky she wants to meet you. Otherwise, you’d already be in pieces.”

“Charming,” you bit out, then spat at her feet.

Sevika’s eyes narrowed dangerously, and before you could blink, she kicked the chair back. You hit the ground with a jarring thud, the air rushing out of your lungs.

“Watch your mouth, kid,” Sevika growled, her boots echoing as she walked away.

Still tied to the chair, you craned your neck to yell after her. “You think this scares me? I’ve had worse!”

Your voice bounced off the walls, but no response came. Alone again, you gritted your teeth, your frustration mounting. Whoever had gone through the trouble of taking you, they were going to regret it.

The ropes around your wrists burned as you twisted and yanked, desperate to free yourself. Every muscle in your arms screamed in protest, but you pushed through, muttering every profanity and insult you could think of under your breath.  

"Come on, you piece of—" you hissed, jerking harder at the ropes. The chair scraped against the filthy floor as you shifted your weight. "Cowards! You’re all cowards! Can’t even fight me head-on, huh?"  

The sound of a creaking door silenced your outburst. You froze, hearing light, almost playful footsteps approaching.  

Then she appeared.  

The first thing that caught your eye was her hair—a vivid blue, pulled into chaotic pigtails that swayed with every step. She moved with a strange, fluid energy, like she was dancing to a song only she could hear. Her hooded cloak hung loosely around her, barely concealing the mischievous smile spreading across her face.  

Your breath hitched. You couldn’t stop staring at her. It wasn’t just her striking features—the sharp curve of her jawline, the glint of piercings, or the deliberate sway of her stride—but her eyes. They were a haunting, electric purple that seemed to glow even in the dim light. They locked onto yours, sharp and unrelenting, as if she was peeling back every layer of your mind.  

She tilted her head, noticing your stunned expression as if she was taking inventory of your soul. Without a word, she strode forward, her boots clinking lightly against the ground. With surprising strength, she grabbed the back of your chair and lifted it upright, bringing your face level with hers.  

“Not so loud now, are we?” she teased, her voice smooth yet tinged with mockery.  

You swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how close she was. Her lips curled into a knowing smirk as she leaned in, inspecting you like you were some kind of rare artifact.  

Her hand reached out, almost delicately, tracing a faint line over the scar that ran through your eyebrow. The sensation made you flinch slightly, but her touch was lighter than you’d expected.  

“What’s this, huh?” she mused, her finger trailing down to where a tattoo peeked out along the side of your neck. Her head tilted again, curious, as she studied the intricate lines and shapes. “A map? A secret code? Or just something to make you look cool?”  

You didn’t respond, your throat dry.  

She grinned wider at your silence. “Funny. You had so much to say earlier. All that yelling, cursing. What happened?” Her voice dropped, playful and sharp. “Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?”  

Her teasing only made your pulse race. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks as she continued to examine you like you were her newest obsession.  

Finally, she leaned back slightly, resting her hands on her hips. “You’re a fascinating one, I’ll give you that. That punch you threw at that enforcer? Oh, that was beautiful.” She sighed dreamily, spinning on her heel before whipping back around to face you. “I saw you and thought, that one’s got fire. And fire is just what I need.”  

Her words finally broke through your haze. You leaned forward, pushing your face so close to hers that the gap between you was almost nonexistent. Her eyes widened, caught off guard for a brief moment.  

“You’re insane,” you whispered, your voice low and steady.  

Her lips parted slightly, then curled into a devilish grin. “Takes one to know one, sugar.”  

Her grin widened as if your words had only fueled whatever twisted fire burned inside her. Those vivid purple eyes danced with amusement, mischief, and something far more dangerous.  

She leaned in closer, her nose nearly brushing yours, her lips curving into a sly smirk. “Insane?” she repeated, dragging the word out like it was a sweet candy she didn’t want to swallow. “Sugar, you don’t know the half of it. But you? You’re a little spark in this dull, gray world. And I like sparks.”  

Your jaw clenched, but you couldn’t look away. She was intoxicating, the kind of energy you could feel crawling under your skin. Dangerous. Chaotic. Addictive.  

Her gaze flicked down, studying the scar on your eyebrow again as if it told her a story she hadn’t finished reading. “This,” she said, lightly tapping the scar with a manicured finger, “has a tale, doesn’t it? Did you earn it in a fight? Or did someone get the better of you?”  

You jerked your head back, her finger hovering in the air where your face had been. “I don’t need to explain myself to you.”  

“Ooooh,” she cooed, pretending to be wounded, clutching her chest dramatically. “Tough girl, huh? You’re even more fun than I thought.”  

She circled you slowly, her boots scuffing the floor as she moved, inspecting you from every angle. “And these tattoos… I’m dying to know what they mean. Are you some kind of treasure map, or are you just trying to look mysterious?”  

Your lips twitched into a smirk despite yourself. “Maybe both.”  

Her laughter rang out, light and airy, but with that edge that made your skin crawl and your heart race. “I knew I liked you.” She stopped behind you, leaning close to your ear, her breath brushing your neck. “So much potential, all wrapped up in a pretty little package.”  

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere,” you shot back, though your voice betrayed the tiniest hitch.  

“Oh, I don’t need flattery,” she purred, sauntering back around to face you. She crouched down, her chin resting on her hand as she peered up at you with those piercing eyes. “I’ve already got you wrapped around my finger.”  

You barked a laugh, leaning forward as much as the ropes allowed. “You think you’ve got me figured out? Hate to break it to you, but I don’t play by anyone’s rules.”  

Her grin twisted into something darker, more dangerous. “Oh, I’m counting on that.”  

Her gaze locked with yours again, and for a moment, the room seemed to shrink until it was just the two of you. The intensity of her stare was overwhelming, like she was peeling back every layer of you, reading the parts you kept hidden even from yourself.  

You raised an eyebrow. “What are you looking at?”  

Her lips curved into a slow, teasing smile. “Everything.”  

The word hung in the air, and for the first time, you felt truly out of control. It wasn’t fear—it was something far more maddening.  

“You’re full of yourself,” you muttered, breaking eye contact to glare at the floor.  

“And you’re full of surprises,” she shot back, tilting her head. “That’s why I want you, sugar. You don’t even know what you’re capable of yet, do you?”  

You snorted, finally meeting her gaze again. “And you think you do?”  

Her smirk deepened as she stood, towering over you for a moment. She leaned down, her face close enough that you could feel the heat of her breath. “Stick around, and maybe you’ll find out.”  

Before you could respond, she straightened, her manic energy returning as she twirled on her heel. “But don’t worry, sweetheart,” she called over her shoulder, “I’m not done with you yet.”  

She paused at the doorway, turning back with one final, piercing look. “Not by a long shot.”  

And just like that, she was gone, leaving you tied to the chair with your heart pounding and your mind spinning.  

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔ 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 　

The edge of Piltover where it bled into the Undercity was a liminal space, caught between the polished steel of progress and the grime of survival. Caitlyn tightened her coat as she approached the meeting spot, her sharp eyes scanning the dimly lit area until she spotted the unmistakable silhouette of Vi.  

Vi was leaning against the railing, arms crossed, her usual air of nonchalance masking the weight she always carried in these spaces. She looked up as Caitlyn approached, her smirk lighting up the otherwise somber surroundings.  

“Well, well, if it isn’t Cupcake herself,” Vi drawled, pushing off the railing and striding forward. “What brings you to the edge of the world? Couldn’t be my charm.”  

Caitlyn rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the faint smile tugging at her lips. “Vi. Always the comedian.”  

“You know me,” Vi said with a wink, gesturing toward a ledge that overlooked the Undercity below. “Come on. Let’s catch up like old times.”  

The two of them sat side by side, the hum of Zaun’s machinery rising faintly in the background. For a moment, there was silence, the kind only two people with shared history could share.  

“So,” Vi started, leaning back on her hands. “What’s got you out here? I know you didn’t come all this way just to see me.”  

Caitlyn hesitated, her fingers brushing the edges of the folded paper in her coat pocket. “I need your help, but… I want to ask you something first.”  

Vi raised an eyebrow. “Shoot.”  

“Did you ever know someone—when you were younger—who didn’t quite fit in on either side of the city?” Caitlyn asked, her voice cautious.  

Vi’s expression shifted, her smirk fading into something more contemplative. “You’re fishing, Cait. But yeah. There was someone.”  

Caitlyn tilted her head, curiosity piqued. “Who?”  

Vi leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she stared out over the Undercity. “Back when Vander was still running things, there was this kid who’d come around sometimes. Silco’s kid.”  

Caitlyn blinked. “Silco had a child?”  

Vi nodded, her gaze distant. “Yeah. He didn’t bring her around much. Vander always told us to play nice with her, though. Said she wasn’t like her old man. And he was right. She was a good kid. Quiet, but tough in her own way. Ekko and I used to call her ‘little spark’ because she’d light up whenever she got into trouble with us.”  

“What happened to her?” Caitlyn asked softly.  

Vi’s jaw tightened, and her voice dropped. “The bridge. You know the story—when everything went to hell, and we lost everything. I always thought she was one of the ones who didn’t make it.”  

Caitlyn frowned, her hand brushing her coat pocket again. “She must’ve been important to you.”  

Vi glanced at her, a sly grin creeping back onto her face. “What’s with all the questions, Cait? You getting attached to someone?”  

Caitlyn straightened, her cheeks heating slightly. “That’s not—”  

Vi chuckled, cutting her off. “Relax, Cupcake. I’m just messing with you. But the way you’re talking, you’ve got a soft spot for whoever this is.”  

Caitlyn huffed, crossing her arms. “I do not.”  

“Sure,” Vi teased, her grin widening. “Now, are you gonna tell me what this is all about, or do I have to guess?”  

Reluctantly, Caitlyn pulled the folded paper from her pocket and handed it to Vi. “This is who I’m talking about.”  

Vi unfolded the paper and stared at the mugshot. Her smirk dropped instantly, replaced by a rare look of genuine shock.  

“What?” Caitlyn asked, alarmed by her reaction. “What is it?”  

Vi’s fingers tightened on the photo as she stared at it, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s her.”  

Caitlyn blinked, confused. “Her?”  

Vi looked up, her eyes meeting Caitlyn’s with a mixture of disbelief and dread. “That’s Silco’s kid. The one I told you about.”  

Caitlyn’s breath caught in her throat. “That’s impossible.”  

“It’s not,” Vi said firmly, her voice steadier now. “I’d recognize her anywhere. She’s older, sure, but it’s her.”  

Caitlyn stared at Vi, the weight of the revelation settling over her like a storm cloud. “If she’s Silco’s child… then she’s in more danger than I thought.”  

Vi nodded grimly, folding the paper carefully before handing it back. “You have no idea, Cait. If Jinx is involved, this isn’t just danger—it’s a ticking time bomb.”  

The two women sat in tense silence, the enormity of what lay ahead pressing down on both of them. 

You remained seated on the ledge(finally untied and freed), your legs dangling over the edge, gazing out at the endless sprawl of the Undercity. The cool air carried the muffled hum of life below, its chaotic rhythm strangely soothing. Jinx's words echoed in your mind, tangled with your own doubts and fears.  

"You're different. You've got a fire they can't put out."  

You clenched your jaw, your fingers tightening around the edge of the ledge. A small part of you hated how much her words resonated. The Undercity, with all its grime and disorder, felt more genuine than anything you’d ever experienced in Piltover. It felt... like home.  

But why?  

Shaking the thought off, you stood, brushing your hands on your pants. The colored neon signs beckoned below, their strange symbols and shapes leading a breadcrumb trail toward what could only be Jinx’s lair. You followed them, the glowing lights guiding your every step through winding passages and corridors that grew stranger the deeper you ventured.  

When you reached the entrance, the sound of laughter and faint music greeted you. The room was an explosion of color and chaos, a living reflection of its owner. But before you could take it all in, something small and solid slammed into your side, nearly knocking you over.  

“Whoa there, kid,” you said, steadying yourself with a smirk.  

The small figure in front of you was a girl, no older than seven or eight. Her oversized helmet tilted awkwardly over her face, obscuring her features. She straightened it, looking up at you with curious eyes. You chuckled, gently pushing the helmet down so it covered her face again.  

“That’s a safety hazard, squirt,” you teased.  

The girl let out a muffled huff, adjusting the helmet again before darting behind your legs as if hiding. You turned, bewildered, just in time to see Jinx leaning casually against a wall, watching the exchange with an amused grin.  

“That’s Isha,” Jinx said, pushing off the wall and sauntering closer. “She doesn’t talk much, but don’t let that fool you. She’s a little firecracker.”  

You crouched down, leveling your gaze with the girl’s. “Isha, huh? You trying to knock me out or what?”  

Isha peeked out from behind her helmet, her big eyes locking with yours. For a moment, neither of you moved. Then, without warning, she launched herself forward, wrapping her small arms tightly around your neck.  

You froze, your arms hovering awkwardly before finally settling around her in return. The hug was fierce, filled with an intensity you hadn’t expected from someone so small.  

Jinx stood off to the side, her grin faltering into something softer, something almost vulnerable. She tilted her head, studying the moment.  

“Would you look at that,” Jinx muttered under her breath, her voice quieter than usual. “You’ve got that thing... that spark. The kind that makes people believe in something better, even when the world’s a mess.”  

She leaned against a beam, her purple eyes narrowing slightly as if lost in thought. “I always thought people like you didn’t exist. Or if they did, they’d never make it down here. Guess I was wrong.”  

Isha pulled back slightly, her tiny hands gripping your shirt as she looked up at you with a small smile. You returned it hesitantly, unsure what to do with the sudden warmth spreading through your chest.  

Jinx crossed her arms, a flicker of something complicated crossing her face. “You’re a piece of work. You make people feel things they don’t even know they’re missing.”  

You glanced at her, confused by her tone, but before you could say anything, she clapped her hands, her grin returning in full force.  

“Alright, reunion time’s over!” Jinx said, gesturing grandly toward the chaotic space. “Welcome to the fun house. Let’s see if you can keep up.”  

But even as she walked away, her eyes lingered on you and Isha for just a second longer, the weight of her words hanging in the air like a secret.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔ 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 　

Vi and Caitlyn moved quietly through the shadows of the Undercity, the flickering neon lights casting distorted shapes along the walls. The tension between them was palpable, Caitlyn walking briskly with purpose, while Vi lagged slightly behind, her mind clearly elsewhere.

“Alright, Vi,” Caitlyn snapped, stopping abruptly and turning to face her. “Enough of this. Why are you so anxious about this? It’s obvious you know something you’re not telling me. Just spill it already.”

Vi ran a hand through her short hair, letting out a sharp breath. “It’s not that simple, Cupcake.”

“Don’t ‘Cupcake’ me,” Caitlyn shot back, frustration bubbling over. “You practically froze when you saw that picture. And now, every time her name comes up, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. What is it about her? What aren’t you telling me?”

Vi hesitated, her fists clenching at her sides. She leaned against a graffiti-covered wall, her eyes scanning the dark alley as if trying to find the right words in the chaos around them.

“She’s Silco’s kid, Caitlyn,” Vi finally admitted, her voice low and uneven. “And that’s bad enough, yeah? But it’s worse than that. There’s… there’s something about her—something Silco did to her—since she was just a baby.”

Caitlyn’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean? What did he do to her?”

Vi looked away, unable to meet Caitlyn’s eyes. Her voice dropped further, tinged with both anger and sadness. “He gave her Shimmer. Since she was an infant.”

Caitlyn’s mouth opened slightly in disbelief, her mind racing. “Shimmer? That toxin? The stuff that drives people mad? He gave it to his own child?”

Vi nodded grimly. “He called her Spark for a reason. It wasn’t just ‘cause of how she lit up a room with her energy. It was because when she got mad, Cait, there was this… this purple flash in her eyes. It wasn’t natural. And it wasn’t just her eyes—she got strong. Way stronger than any kid her age should’ve been.”

Caitlyn’s hand instinctively moved to her chest, gripping the fabric of her coat as the weight of Vi’s words settled over her. “That’s… inhuman,” she whispered.

“You’re telling me,” Vi said bitterly. “Back when we were all still running around with Vander, she’d hang with us sometimes. Vander told me and Ekko to play nice with her—said she didn’t have a lot of friends.”

Vi let out a shaky breath, her voice cracking slightly. “One time, some goons jumped us. Usual Undercity crap, right? We could’ve handled it, but one of ‘em hit Powder. She lost it. I mean… lost it. It was like a switch flipped. She went from this scrappy, loudmouthed kid to…” Vi paused, swallowing hard. “…something else. She tore into that guy like a rabid animal. Took five of us to pull her off him.”

Caitlyn stared at Vi, the story painting a picture she could hardly comprehend. “How old was she?”

“Maybe eight,” Vi muttered, her eyes distant. “Nine at most.”

Caitlyn couldn’t hide the horror on her face. “And no one did anything? No one tried to help her?”

“Silco didn’t think she needed help,” Vi said bitterly. “He thought it made her special. He was always talkin’ about how she’d be the future of the Undercity. Said she was born to be more than the rest of us.”

Caitlyn stepped closer, her voice firm. “Vi, we need to find her. If she’s still being exposed to Shimmer—or worse, if she gets ahold of it again—she could become…”

“Someone no one can stop,” Vi finished for her, her voice heavy with guilt. She rubbed the back of her neck, avoiding Caitlyn’s eyes. “Look, Cait, I don’t know if she’s beyond saving or not. But if anyone can find her before it’s too late, it’s you.”

Caitlyn’s gaze softened slightly, seeing the weight of the past etched into Vi’s face. “We’ll find her,” she said, her voice steady. “I’ll find her. And if there’s even a chance of pulling her back from whatever Silco did to her, I’ll take it.”

Vi gave her a weak smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Careful, Cupcake. You’re starting to sound like a hero.”

Caitlyn rolled her eyes, but there was a faint smirk on her lips as the two of them continued walking deeper into the Undercity shadows.

─ ⊹ ☆ ⊹ ─

You sat cross-legged in the center of the pillow fort, its patchwork design of fraying fabric and mismatched cushions somehow providing a sense of calm. Isha sat close by, fiddling with another scrap of metal. She handed you a device—a small, intricate thing that looked like a broken clock mixed with some kind of makeshift toy. You turned it over in your hands, your brows furrowed as you tried to make sense of it.

“How does this thing even…” you muttered, shaking it slightly.

Isha tapped your arm and held out her hand. You passed it to her, and she pressed a hidden switch with an exaggerated motion, her small fingers moving with practiced ease. The device clicked open, and she handed it back to you, her expression triumphant.

“Ah,” you said, smirking as you caught on. “Got it now. Thanks, kid.”

Isha nodded, pleased, as you reached for a small set of tools and peered into the inner workings of the device. As you worked, focused on aligning the tiny gears, Jinx stood nearby, leaning against a support beam of the fort. Her purple eyes flickered between you and Isha, her fingers twitching idly at her sides.

For a moment, her gaze softened, as though something about the way you interacted with Isha stirred a memory buried deep within her. A fleeting image of another life—of being that child watching someone patient and kind—flashed in her mind. But the memory was jagged, incomplete, and the voices began to stir.

“She’s like them. She’ll leave you, too.”

“Don’t let her in. You know what happens.”

“Softness gets you killed.”

Her hands clenched into fists as her breathing grew uneven. The taunting chorus in her mind grew louder, mocking her, reminding her of every loss, every betrayal, and every vulnerability she had ever exposed.

Then, one voice—a quieter, unfamiliar one—whispered. “Or maybe… maybe she’s different?”

“No!” Jinx’s outburst was sharp and sudden, her hand slamming against the wall of the fort. Both you and Isha flinched, startled. Isha quickly raised her hands, signing something to you, her movements calm despite the tension.

You glanced at her, brow furrowing. “She says it’s no big deal,” you murmured, translating Isha’s message. But something in you didn’t sit right. You set the device down carefully, rising to your feet.

Jinx’s eyes flickered to you as you approached. Her breathing was uneven, her jaw tight as if bracing herself for whatever she thought you were going to do. But you didn’t say anything. Instead, you stepped close, reached out, and placed your hand gently on her shoulder.

The contact was electric—not in the physical sense, but in the way it seemed to pull her back from the chaotic spiral in her mind. The voices stuttered, silenced as if they’d been struck mute. She stared at your hand, then at your face, her wide eyes filled with confusion.

“Are you good?” you asked softly, your voice steady.

She blinked, her lips parting slightly as though to speak, but no words came. She didn’t pull away, didn’t flinch. For the first time in as long as she could remember, the storm in her mind had quieted.

“The voices…” she said softly, her words almost childlike. Her gaze locked onto yours, searching. “They stopped.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that, so you just left your hand where it was, steady, grounding.

Jinx let out a short laugh, the sound almost bitter as she pulled away. “What are you, a miracle worker now?” she teased, her tone trying to recover its usual sharpness, but it lacked the bite. She crossed her arms, glancing away as though embarrassed. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

You smirked faintly. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

For a moment, there was a quiet tension between you—an unspoken understanding that neither of you fully grasped but could feel nonetheless.

She finally glanced back at you, her expression softening. “Thanks,” she muttered, her voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. “For, uh… whatever you did.”

You raised a brow, leaning slightly against the beam. “Don’t mention it.”

But even as she turned back toward Isha with her usual swagger, there was a different air about her. And in the quiet moments that followed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something in her had shifted—just as something in you had, too.

The tense air of Jinx’s lair was broken by the heavy footfalls of Sevika as she strode in, her expression lined with irritation and determination. She stopped a few paces from where Jinx stood, her arms crossed, her purple eyes locked on a distant point in the room. You sat with Isha, fidgeting with the scrap she had handed you earlier, trying to piece it together while she motioned instructions. Both of you froze when Sevika spoke.

“We need to talk,” she said bluntly, her gravelly voice cutting through the silence.

Jinx glanced at her, her lips curling into a smirk that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “About what? Your new hobby?”

Sevika’s jaw tightened. “The rally. You need to be there. They need to see you.”

Jinx snorted, spinning a small, makeshift grenade in her hand. “Need? They don’t need anything. They just want a show.”

“It’s not about a show, Jinx. It’s about showing strength. If you want people to follow you, they need to see you, not some memory of who you used to be.”

Jinx laughed sharply, shaking her head. “They’ll get over it. They always do.”

From your spot, you glanced at Isha, who gave you a meaningful nod toward the door. Her small hands signed: We should go.

You hesitated, glancing between the two women. Jinx’s smirk was faltering, her fingers twitching as she tossed the grenade between her hands. You nodded at Isha, but as Sevika’s frustration grew and Jinx’s refusal hardened, you couldn’t help but linger, watching the scene unfold.

Sevika’s patience finally broke. “Fine,” she snapped, throwing up her hands. “Stay here. Hide in your fort. But don’t expect anyone to keep waiting forever.” With that, she turned and stormed out.

Jinx stared after her, her smirk fading entirely. She muttered something under her breath, then stalked off into the shadows of the lair, leaving you and Isha alone.

─ ⊹ ☆ ⊹ ─

The streets were alive with energy as you walked through the dense crowd, Isha’s small hand clasped tightly in yours. Voices rose in unison, fists pumping into the air as chants echoed off the crumbling walls of the Undercity. The sea of people pressed around you, a strange mix of defiance and desperation in their faces. You couldn’t help but feel out of place and yet… oddly drawn in.

At the center of the chaos, Sevika stood atop a makeshift platform, her mechanical arm gleaming under the dim light as she addressed the crowd with a booming voice.

“They take everything from us!” she roared. “Our homes, our families, our freedom—and they think we’ll just bow down and take it! But we’re stronger than they’ll ever know. We’re the beating heart of this city, and we will not be silenced!”

Her words sent a ripple through the crowd, igniting a fire in their eyes. You stood still, feeling a strange stirring in your chest. Her speech felt like a challenge, a call to action. Around you, people murmured and chanted, their voices swelling with Sevika’s words.

“Where’s Jinx?” someone shouted from the crowd, and the question was quickly echoed.

Your brow furrowed as you looked around, confused. The crowd seemed to be searching, yearning for her. Why are they all so obsessed with her?

Suddenly, Isha tugged her hand free from yours and darted toward the base of the massive, weathered statue that towered over the square.

“Isha!” you called out, pushing through the crowd after her. You caught sight of her climbing up the crumbling base of the statue, her small figure illuminated by the glow of the flare she held high above her head.

The flare’s blue light cut through the darkened sky, a beacon that silenced the crowd for a breathless moment. You felt something deep inside you shift, something raw and instinctive. Slowly, you raised your fist to the sky, the gesture unthinking yet powerful.

The crowd seemed to freeze, their eyes on you, and then one by one, fists rose alongside yours. The chants grew louder, the unity in the air palpable.

Sevika’s eyes snapped to you from her platform, her expression hard to read. For a moment, she looked almost… impressed. She raised her own fist, and the crowd erupted into a deafening roar.

But the unity was short-lived. The roar of engines and the heavy march of enforcers filled the air as they stormed into the square. The crowd erupted into chaos, some scattering in fear, others standing their ground to fight. You were caught in the middle, trying to keep sight of Isha as the chaos unfolded around you.

You spotted her just as a massive enforcer grabbed her, flinging her small body into the stone fountain with a sickening thud. Your breath hitched as you saw her crumple to the ground, unmoving.

A spark ignited in your chest, and for a moment, the world blurred. Your vision tinged with purple, and before you knew it, you were charging toward the enforcer, your movements unnaturally fast.

The enforcer barely had time to react before you were on him, striking with a strength and speed that caught even you by surprise. Blow after blow landed, each one fueled by a fury you couldn’t contain.

A sharp pain exploded in your side as you were suddenly knocked off balance. You hit the ground hard, gasping for breath as you looked up to see Sevika standing over you, her mechanical arm sparking from the spear that had pierced through it. She grimaced but grabbed you by the arm, dragging you away even as you fought against her grip.

“They’ve got Isha!” you screamed, your voice raw with desperation.

“We’ll get her back,” Sevika growled, slamming you into the wall of a nearby alley. Her eyes were fierce, her grip unrelenting. “But we need Jinx. She’s the only one who can get her out of wherever they’re taking her.”

You froze, your breath heaving as her words sank in. Sevika’s gaze softened slightly, but her tone remained firm.

“Get it together,” she snapped. “We don’t have time for this. You want to save her? Then we need Jinx. Now.”

She released you, and for a moment, you stood there trembling, anger and fear coursing through you. But as the chaos raged on, you nodded, steeling yourself for what was to come.

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

Chap 3 getting edited rn :) Thanks for reading! Isha is alive here I DONT CARE

[bigskydreaming]

Y’know, I’ve posted before about how important it can be to survivors to be in charge of determining when they disclose what happened to them and to whom in what ways…..and thus how the trend of Dick’s ‘secret’ (what happened with Tarantula or Mirage or both) being found out by his family or friends despite his wishes or even his active efforts to keep it secret, and he’s forced to confront it and deal with all of them knowing before he’s ready and made any kind of peace with it himself, and this is often framed as being what’s best for him and its better now that everything’s out in the open and its like….no, that’s not how it works, you can’t FORCE people to recover on YOUR time table, and it happening in a way that gives them no agency or control over it is often a SETBACK instead of like….to their benefit, because while at its heart, disclosure is a relatively simple action, it can be hugely empowering to survivors because its the first time they’re able to definitively take what happened to them and DECIDE what happens next, to take back some of the CONTROL that was ripped away from them by the event and sent their life into a tailspin ever since…..

Ahem. Anyway. Like I said, y’know how I’ve posted before about….all of…well, that?

LOL.

Yeah, so anyway, I’ve been thinking lately about an ideal ‘counter-trend’ that I think could add so much to the view of these parts of Dick’s narrative and character and to discussions about them….and it also IMO is one of the most likely and in character ways that Dick WOULD be likely to disclose what happened to him and make it known to family or friends…..WHILE letting him retain full personal agency over making that choice HIMSELF, for his OWN reasons….

And that’s like…..letting them all find out because Dick makes the personal decision to open up about that to a survivor or recent victim he sees struggling in the aftermath of their own assault. 

Exposing his own vulnerabiltiies and hurt in order to HELP someone, to make something from his own pain, which is one of the key ways IMO that Dick tends to his own trauma and recovery…..using what happened to him as an opportunity to better help others, be there for them, connect with them and give them an easier time of it or more tools to help in their own recovery than he’d had himself. When he’s able to say and do the things a victim really needs to hear right then and there, because he’s been there himself and he’s just saying or doing what he wishes someone had said or done for him but hadn’t known at the time he needed or wanted or even had someone available to ask even if he were able to.

I’d love to read about a Dick Grayson who finds the strength and will to open up about his own secrets and traumas even if it means people close to him finding out and maybe pitying him (which he hates and I think is one of the primary reasons he doesn’t tell people when something bad happens to him oif he can help it) - specifically because its the strength someone needs from him in that moment, and Dick’s personal call to heroism is the need, the drive, to be what someone needs in order to save them if its at all within his capabilities. That’s why he’s a hero IMO: he doesn’t know how to NOT intervene in a situation where he knows his unique talents and skills could help protect or defend someone, save them from pain or loss or dying. He doesn’t WANT to know how.

Gimme a Dick Grayson who swallows down his fears, straightens his shoulders and defiantly tells his primal reptile brain “Fuck his secrets” - he couldn’t save this person from having this thing happen to them, but he can still be a kind of hero to them, for them, by CONNECTING with them, revealing that even he, a bonafide SUPERHERO, can and has been hurt that way, and it sucks and its painful and it wakes him up sometimes in the middle of the night, but he’s still here, he’s still the person HE chooses to be, someone who still laughs and cries and has friends and goals and dreams and bad days but good days as well….show me him being their own personal superhero by cutting straight through the shit their own demons try to convince them of - that this is their fault or they deserved this or it wouldn’t have happened if they were stronger, smarter, BETTER - because when freaking Nightwing, son of the Batman and leader of the Titans and someone superheroes the world over speak of in glowing terms….

When THAT guy looks you straight in the eye and tells you none of that is true, that he knows this because it happened to him too, and it had nothing to do with strength or weakness or deserving it or wanting it……its a HELL of a lot easier to believe coming from him. To internalize. To take in and make a mantra in your head that you can summon forth to remind yourself of whenever doubts start to sneak up on you again.

Sorry not sorry, no disrespect to any specific singular fic out there - I've LITERALLY written one myself (even if a big part of why Born Under A Bad Sign has languished so long is because I realized it wasn't really what I was looking for/to explore for a lot of these very reasons, and in hindsight I felt like I had just gotten caught up in the usual trends of fics about this topic instead of writing from a start point of exploring what I most wanted to see or read about as a survivor) so please don't take this as a slight to anyone who's written something like this. I'd be insulting myself too if that were the case.

But as a TREND, I've really grown to dislike that there's no shortage of stories where Dick's most vulnerable moments and secrets are dragged out of him DESPITE being the last thing he wants at that time, when there's a dearth of fics used to explore...when and how might Dick go about sharing these secrets or opening up about these moments because he WANTS to, because HE feels ready to. Or even exploring what happens or what he goes through if he opens up or shares about these things BEFORE he's actually ready to, because in an attempt to repurpose his trauma into something he feels can help another survivor, he ignored what he was actually feeling about whether he was ready or not to be open about this and have it known by more people.

Just....any and all angles where HE makes the choice, and not just because he HAS to, and even if he later regrets it or it brings up stuff he wasn't as prepared to deal with as he'd convinced himself he was in the moment....there's so many more avenues to be explored here, and I feel like without even thinking about it too much, most of these avenues get shut off as possibilities or turned away from because the sheer volume of fics where other people find out about these moments without Dick's direct disclosure or when he doesn't want them to or isn't ready for them to know, like....this particular direction is so everpresent it narrows focus and creates the kind of tunnel-vision effect we're all familiar with when it comes to all sorts of fandom trends, until it subconsciously feels like its THE only direction to take with all this.

Anyway. Just wanted to raise that discussion point and if anyone knows of any fics that ARE out there like this, feel free to send them my way.

[physics-of-one-piece]

Ohhh Fizzyyyy~ ✨

While researching Doffy's Looks, I noticed something sad about the DQ Brothers and I have to make everyone elses a bit sad with me ~ 😌

And someone else has probably pointed that out already

About the color reverse with Doffy and Rosi, it only happened after Doffy shot his Brother ! (Actually it happened when Doffy ruled Dressrosa, but let me have this!!! )

Before The Incident™ we see Doffy in two magnificent fits.

This one: white trousers, black shirt, bit of red and dark pink on his pants. Similar colors to Rosi over all, but not a color reverse. Not sure about the timeline right now, but the colors might symbolize Doffy being happy his little brother is back and therefore making them wear similar colours to show it (let me have this 😩plz)

And then there is our beloved Red Suit Doffy. No White in sight, just Black and lots of Red (= blood = Family and death). He feels betrayed by the only Family he has left and there is only one solution for him! 😩 Bang bang.

And only after Doffy realized what he has lost, he subconciously choose to wear his brothers colors! ( I know it was Odas choice to show the parallels with the Brothers in the Dressrosa Arc, BUT let me-)

Anyway ✨✌🏻 i just wanted to point this out !

Have a loveley Day, Fizzy 🦩

PS: Its totaly off topic but I headcanons Doffy with a bellybutton piercing. Let me ha-

Hello, Coco ~💕✨🫶🏻

I love this. First of all, these two pics made me swoon North Blue Doffy is so handsome 😍

We will ignore that Oda designed Doffy first and only later decided to make Rosinante (in Oda's first ever sketches of Doffy, Doffy was a single child! But man am I glad he changed his mind) and used Dressrosa Doffy's clothes colours but switched them for the base of Doffy's brother because clothes are another writing/artist tool- as a writer, what better way to speak to the audience than through clothes? You get to say soo many things with clothes, especially in manga. Clothes are such a simple tool and yet a great tool to show the connection between characters while also giving them their own style!

However, let's ignore that entire "Oda created Doffy first" which and focus on how the characters feel and what made the characters pick their clothes.

And you're right. Now, why Dressrosa Doffy reverse clothes colours scheme for Cora? Easy. Audience. By now, it's been (counting from ep 608 when post-timeskip Doffy aka Dressrosa Doffy is revealed) 100 episodes that the audience has seen Doflamingo dressed in those clothes, white shirt, pink coat. The moment we see Cora, our minds need to go "that's Corazon, that's Doflamingo's younger brother" at FIRST SIGHT of Corazon.

So, Oda does the colours the same but on different clothing aka if Doffy has a white shirt, Cora will have white pants. If Doffy has a pink coat, Cora can't have a pink coat but his upper body needs to wear sth pink. Pink shirt with pink hearts. Genius. Oh, and the biggest "THIS IS DOFLAMINGO'S LITTLE BROTHER" sign? Feather coat like Doflamingo's just a black colour. Oda coloured Cora's coat black but I love the purple of the anime too cus it's literally on the colour spectrum right next to pink. I think Oda made it black but myb it was originally purple but the amount of times Cora lit it on fire just made the poor thing turn black. Though, there is the entire thing with flamingos. They have black feathers underneath their main pink feathers - it's the black feathers that help them to fly.

North Blue Doffy

I think the moment Doffy hit 21 (that's the legal drinking age in Japan) he switches to suits/more formal wear. And yes, you're right about Dressrosa Doffy being the reverse clothes switch of Cora aka after his brother's death. Doffy liked red a lot to go with his wardrobe.

This is how he dressed at 17 (I love it, it makes no sense and I love it) at Roger's execution. Maybe it was hot that day, but it did start to rain later but it was probably summer rain anyway. But I can totally see this being 17 year old Doffy's everyday fit.

So, sometime later when he reached 20 and he became the young pirate underworld businessman as Law (and we, the audience) meet him later as in North Blue, he switched to formal wear. Doffy likes luxury. He's a Celestial Dragon. Also, I like to think the climate of North Blue doesn't agree with him, so he goes for long sleeved shirts such as dress shirts and the full red suit. Of course he goes for suits. They can also make him appear less dangerous than he is while giving him an edge over other pirates who dress... Well, like pirates 🤣

So, when Cora came back (Doffy was 24, Cora 22) of course Doffy will try to colour match somehow. Ties are a no go. First, he needs EVERYONE to know that this clumsy pyromaniac is his wonderful cute little brother! And how does he do that?

COAT.

Doflamingo already probably has quite a bounty on his head even in his North Blue days (probably a 100,000 berries or a bit more, I think it skyrocketed to its 320 mil. when he attacked the Heavenly Tributes). His coat is probably INFAMOUS. It's what other pirates recognise him by. You see a big pink feather coat? Oh, that's Donquixote Doflamingo.

And so Doflamingo wanted everyone to connect Cora's black/purple(in anime)coat to "this is Doflamingo's younger brother, Corazon"

It's not known whether the pirate world is aware that Corazon is Doflamingo's younger brother,but I'd wager the answer is a big NO. They think as Doflamingo's right-hand man, it comes with the perk of wearing a feather coat 🤣

In short, I am a 100% sure Doffy picked Corazon's outfit.

Red Suit Doffy being = blood, family, death you get it Coco, you get it. 🥹🫶🏻

I love being delulu thinking Dressrosa Doffy subconsciously chose to wear his brother's colour scheme but reverse and with his own twists cus wtf are those pants colour, Doffy what fckn colour is that, Doffy. I fckn love it but what fckn colour - oh even that is just a lighter shade of Cora's beanie, just shoot me.

I mean, I know it's probably not true that he like subconsciously chose them cus of Cora, but I totally get you, Coco. Even if Doffy most likely chose them cus he likes them+white dress shirts are always worn by royals (thinks Sanji's outfit in Whole Cake) I support being delulu☝🏻🫡

Thank you for the ask, it hurts but it's worth it. 🫶🏻💕

But maaan, all this clothes talk is just making me wonder if Merlot & Primroses Doffy would be so terrible (at least it's in Reader's POV how Reader would understand it) to give Reader Cora's extra black feather coat fitted for her. Or myb the opposite, sth that he tries to erase Cora's presence with...

Where are those American flamingos...

A feather coat like this colour? It's such a close shade to pink but is its own shade. Like, the people will be thinking "there is a connection to Doflamingo" and that already is bad enough the moment they think that

Plus, the Chilean flamingos have their tail feathers in a darker pink colour too!

And some flamingos have black tail feathers, too (prob why Oda drew Cora's coat black (or bcs of the underneath black feathers as I said), now that I think about it).

Aaah, thank you for making me cry over DQ brothers again, Coco 🫶🏻🥹✨💕

And you may or may not have made me think about how to make Merlot & Primroses even more angsty, though I for some reason don't want to give Reader any feather coat. Those things can be HEAVY.

Doffy with a bellybuton piercing 😳😳 oh my 🫣🫣 that is so cute 🥹🥹

[lilgarbitch]

Running In Circles - Three

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Reader

CW: Fainting, should I be adding swearing as a warning…or is it just obvious at this point?

Word Count: 9k

Author’s Note: Don’t hate me for being a cliche. Also, don’t hate me for involving my favorite artists;) It might not be everyone’s cup of tea, but many more faces will be popping up throughout this story. Some of you might hate it, but I know a lot of you will love it.

Part two

Y/N

I awoke to laughter outside my bunk, causing me to stir and finally open my eyes to see that the curtain to my bunk was open and three fat-headed boys were staring at me. I rub my eyes and yawn, then wipe my mouth when I realize I had been drooling.

“Fuck offfff,” I groan out to them in a tired voice, covering my eyes from the light shining in.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty. You were snoring like a goddamn racehorse, so I went to check on you and saw you drooling all over Noah’s hoodie.” Damien laughs out. I quickly open my eyes and look down at my sleeve, now with a giant wet spot on it. Goddamnit. There’s nowhere to even fucking wash this unless I can stop at a laundry mat or wash it in the sink somewhere.

“Are you gonna mention her mumbling his name every ten minutes,” Cal mumbled from behind Damien, causing me to groan, smack whatever body part was closest. I hear a huff as I reach for the curtain, pulling it back to cover me.

“FUCK OFF,” I yelled at them, trying not to laugh as I turned back over, burying my face into my pillow..that now had that amazing musk soaked into it from the hoodie.

“You better get ready soon, love. We get there in three hours,” Finn calls in, causing another groan to escape my lips.

Wiping my face one more time, I hop out of the bunk and walk to my bags. Well, try to, as the hangover was absolutely kicking my ass and the room was still spinning. I use my barely open eyes to look over what my choices for today could be when they land on that lace tank top (that was actually more like a soft corset) that I almost wore yesterday and decide that even though I feel like the devil was about to come and pull me down any minute now, I should look cute again today. So I grab that, a pair of lower-rise black shorts, almost knee-high socks, and other essentials before walking to the bathroom and taking my much-needed shower.

I walk out of the bathroom, after probably an hour, needing to soak all the sticky sweat from my sleep off, finally feeling fresh and clean and looking like a normal person again.

“Can someone pretty please find some pain killers for me while I finish getting ready,” I ask, peaking my head into the room that all the boys were sitting in. I rub my eyes with deep pressure, hoping to bring some relief. Someone could be banging against my head with a hammer right now, and it wouldn’t even compete with the pounding inside it.

“Way ahead of ya,” Cal responded, holding up Advil and a water bottle. I look at him like he was a goddamn angel and give him a wide smile and a small exasperated ‘thank you’ before taking some and chugging the water. Then, Damien handed me an energy drink, and I just about kissed him.

“What would I do without you three,” I gushed as I cracked open the can.

“Probably not be so hung over,” Finn jokes, making me giggle before turning back around to finish getting ready. Grabbing my make-up bag and whatever hair tools I brought with me, I head into the back of the bus, not caring how bumpy it would be. I just needed some space from voices.

But I still opened my phone to put on some quiet music since it was impossible for me to actually handle pure quiet, and see I had another message from Noah, making me smile. I looked around, checking to see if anyone had caught me, before saving his number on my phone. After I send him a simple good morning text, I turn on some music and go back to getting ready for the day.

After over an hour, my arms felt sore from forcing myself to put extra work into my hair so I look better than I feel. My make-up and hair were done, and I walked to the bathroom to take one last close-up glance over my appearance. Smiling at how well I did my eyeliner and wiping off any make-up that ended up on my piercings, I step back and glance at my full outfit. I was showing off a lot more skin than yesterday, and my stomach tattoos and a bit of my back piece were showing off since my shirt was more of a crop top, but I felt cute.

I make my way back out to the lounge and expect to see the boys, but noticed we were already at the next venue, so they were probably out hanging with the other group already. Pulling out my phone again, I check the time and weather, seeing that I still had a lot of time before we had to do anything, and that it was a little warmer than where we were yesterday, even though it was mid-October, so I should probably still grab my cardigan and bring it with me just in case. But then my eyes land on a new message notification.

Noah🖤- Morning? It’s 2 pm

Noah🖤- but good morning to you too:)

Y/N- Shush

Y/N- I don’t know why I let you guys convince me to drink last night. I feel like death.

I close my phone and glance around the bus. This is probably one of the only moments I will get to myself on this tour, so I’m absolutely going to take advantage of it. I have a good two hours until sound check, so I walk over to the speaker on our bus and turn it on, pairing it with my phone and pressing play on one of my playlists before going to my bag and grabbing my laptop. I sit down in the back of the bus, turn on Demon Slayer, rewatching it for the millionth time, and sing along with my music. Maybe getting a little too into the music, since it wasn’t often that I had time to sing along to my favorite songs as loud as I could without feeling like I was bothering the boys.

Still choking on the bed

Found your waste while the ember red

Keeps falling down and burning in holes

Until the pillow and the mattress glow

I sang along to one of my favorite albums, not really paying attention to anything else as I tried to hit Vic’s notes.

Now I want to be the tattoo ink

That swims down through the needle in your skin

That’s when I heard someone cough to catch my attention, making me open my eyes. I guess I had been so entranced in the song and in hitting the notes that I was now sat back on the couch with my eyes closed.

I blink a few times and clear my throat before my eyes focus and I see Noah standing in front of me with a smirk on his face.

“I texted you a few times to see if you were alive, and then Cal told me to come and see what you were doing,” he confessed before laughing, “I was a little worried I’d walk in on something embarrassing, but that was actually really good.” I blushed a little at his compliment, hoping that my make-up covered it well.

“I- uh. Sorry. I just figured this was one of those rare times that I had to myself, you know? So I just let you all do your thing until you needed me.” I replied with an embarrassed chuckle.

“No, no, you’re all good. If you want me to leave, I’ll just get Finn or someone to come get you when you’re needed,” he said, hooking a thumb over his shoulder. Then his eyes caught my laptop. “Are you watching Demon Slayer?”

“Yeah..?” I replied, eyeing him to see his reaction. He came over to me and motioned for me to scooch over so he could sit.

“I fucking love that anime.” I laughed as his eyes didn’t leave my screen. I stood up and walked over to where my phone sat and turned off my music, disconnecting it from the speaker and walked back. He had moved closer to the laptop, which was at an angle to face where I was sitting, so I walked around the small table it was sitting on, and moved the laptop to face straight towards the couch, and sat down about a foot from him, the show now being played in front of us. I know I wanted alone time, but this wasn’t so bad. I figured being alone with Noah would be awkward and uncomfortable, so it was nice being able to be in his presence and know I didn’t need to be so freaked out yesterday. I’m not sure if it was because I opened up my personality to him so easily yesterday, or just how sweet he was and how much we had in common, but I almost felt like I could treat him like any other friend. Like I had been close to him for years.

We watched for a little while before I felt eyes on me. I look up from the screen and see Noah looking at me, making me smirk. His eyes trailed down my body, following the lines of the ink in my skin like a maze. A giggle escaped my lips as I watched him out of the corner of my eye. He immediately dropped his gaze to the screen again after noticing he had been caught.

“You’re gonna miss some important scenes if you don’t pay attention,” I tease. He chucked softly.

“I’ve seen this anime so many times. I already know what’s gonna happen,” he defended with a shy smile. I gave him a fake, shocked look.

“So you intruded on my ‘me’ time to watch a show you’ve already seen?” I ask with my eyebrow raised. He looks at me with slightly widened eyes, about to defend himself, before I laugh, cutting him off, “I’m just kidding. This is probably my tenth time seeing it.” His head fell as he shook it with a smile before going back to watching, so I did, too.

“You sounded really good earlier, by the way,” he mumbled out after a few minutes. I look over at him through the side of my eye and smile.

“Thank you. I’ve been really working on hitting higher notes like that. It’s not easy for my vocal range.” I respond with a warm smile.

“Pfft. You have the craziest range I’ve ever heard. I can’t see those notes ever being a struggle for you.” he says, making me shake my head in disbelief.

“As if! I saw you guys a few years back, and you were hitting and holding notes I couldn’t even imagine doing.” I confess, elbowing him lightly, which caused him to laugh. But then his smile faltered slightly.

“Are you..uh.. talking about that one festival we did...?” He asked, watching for my reaction. I turned my head to the side, confused, before nodding, remembering that day, once again, as if it were yesterday.

“How..?”

“I uh.. I actually think I remember seeing you in the crowd.” he trailed off, his arm raising so his elbow rested on the back of the couch as he rubbed the back of his neck, losing eye contact in embarrassment. I did my best to hide the shocked look on my face as I turned to face him, giving him my full attention.

“Th-that’s kind of crazy..but actually pretty cool. Seeing each other again all these years later..” I weakly respond, not knowing how I should react to him remembering me on the day my life took a complete turn.

“Yeah. I actually..uh.. I also remember the day I saw a friend of mine post pictures of your band when he was traveling, and I just had to give you guys a listen, and I was really impressed.” I giggled softly, still shocked.

“Is that why the next day, Jolly reached out to Finn? Because you saw us?” I teased. The words left my mouth before I even had control of it because, of course, the only way I knew how to keep conversations from being awkward was by joking. I internally curse myself before he answers.

“Yeah, I mean, I could never let a voice like that go unrecognized. I’m actually really happy that Jolly and Finn became friends.. and that we managed to get this tour set up. I’m really glad… I got to finally meet you.” he confessed, making complete eye contact again.

“I can’t lie, I was worried I was never gonna see you again.” I said, before realizing I spoke before thinking, “You know..because..I enjoyed your music so much,” I tried adding with an awkward laugh and internally cursed at myself again. He gave me a look, letting me know he didn’t believe me.

“I was actually thinking the same thing…” he trailed off as we looked at each other. That was when I noticed how close I was to him. He had leaned in when talking, and now our faces were barely a foot apart. My breath hitched when I glanced down at his lips as he finished speaking. Don’t do it, Y/N. Not yet. You can’t let yourself give in on the second day of finally seeing him again. You won’t be able to handle it if this goes south in the future. I looked back into his eyes and saw that he was now looking at my lips, slowly inching forward. And I was too, not even in control of my body. I could feel his breath on me the closer we got, and suddenly, all restraint in my body left as I was about to close the distance, desperately needing to feel his lips on mine.

“SOUNDCHECK IN TEN MINUTES. GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE, Y/N,” Damien shouted in through the door of the bus, causing both Noah and I to jump. I look up at him with a shocked look before standing up, letting out a quiet ‘fuck’ before quickly grabbing my phone and cardigan. I feel a soft touch on my wrist but ignore it before rushing out the door and past Damien.

“Also, have you seen Noah? We sent him to get you, but he just disappeared.. never mind, then.” I heard him ask as I ignored him and walked to the venue.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What the fuck are you thinking? You know better than this. Why the fuck did you let him stay and watch? You told yourself time and time again you wouldn’t let your feelings take control when you finally saw him again. And even fucking better, you haven’t even fully warmed up today! This is a goddamn job, Y/N. Not a touring party bus with occasional performances. I run my fingers through my hair, pulling on it, trying to ground myself again. God, I’m a fucking idiot. He probably only even tried kissing me because I’m the only girl here. Because that definitely wouldn’t be the first. Fucking hell, dude. You’re gonna ruin the tour for everyone.

I had reached side stage, waiting for the rest of my band, and started pacing. I feel a presence behind me and jump, looking over. Thank god it was just Finn, with the other boys trailing behind him.

“Are you okay?” Finn asked with a concerned look on his face. I finally stopped my subconscious pacing and let out a sigh.

“I uh..I just haven’t warned up..” which wasn’t a complete lie.

“Is that why I saw Noah walking out behind you on the bus?” Damien teased with a smirk, causing Finn to smack him in the stomach, earning a slight ‘oof.’ I completely ignored them and saw the stage manager beckon us on stage for our soundcheck. I immediately walk out and in front of my mic, trying my hardest to ignore the weird looks I was getting from the boys. I let out a deep sigh before we started.

The boys sounded fine, but I didn’t. My voice cracked at every high note and I couldn’t hold my growls. I could feel tears threaten to escape my eyes.

“Y/N, what’s going on with you?” Cal asked from behind me. I turn to him and he immediately shuts his mouth when he sees the redness in my eyes. I hear someone walking up behind me.

“Hun, you can warm up when they do their soundcheck. It’s okay..” Finn tries to comfort me as he rubs my back. I know he knows that it wasn’t my voice bothering me. Hell, something was upsetting me so much that it was throwing my vocals off. But he didn’t dare ask. He never did, not once in over five years I had been lying to him about the thoughts in my head. I give him a weak nod, and we all walk off stage. As we do, we run into the other group of boys. Folio goes to greet me but closes his mouth when he sees my appearance.

“She’s uh..she’s just having some trouble with her vocals today. So she’s gonna warm up then stay on vocal rest until we have to head on..” Finn thankfully answers for me. Nick nods, and the other boys give me a pitying look. I don’t even glance at the tallest, not wanting to see what he looks like right now. My band and I walk to the room backstage and sit down as the other group walks on stage. I sit down, and Finn continues to rub my back as I take some deep breaths.

“I know you don’t like to talk about these things, but you can’t do this all tour. For you. For us. For the other boys. So, please, Y/N, please talk to me when you need to,” Finn spoke softly into my ear. He rarely ever used my name, always calling me one pet name or another, so I knew he was serious. I nodded with another deep breath.

“Can we have this talk tonight? I just...I need to warm up..” I asked him and he gave me a fast nod, surprised I was finally willing. I knew he was right. It’s been way too long bottling all of this up, so I had to say something, especially now that I had to see the problem every single day.

“Do you want to do our warm-up, or do you want to be alone?” Damien asked me softly, almost like he didn’t want to upset me.

“I think it’s better for me to do it alone today. I have to let out some emotions...you know?” He nodded, understanding what I meant, and patted Cal’s shoulder, signaling for them to head somewhere else. Finn gave me a kiss on my temple before standing up.

“If you need anything, just call. If one of those fuckers starts bothering you, I’ll beat their ass,” he jokingly threatened, hooking a thumb over his shoulder, pointing towards the stage. That made me giggle, which made him smile, seemingly happy he put a smile on my face. He followed the boys, and now I was left alone. With one last large sigh, I pulled out my phone, ignoring every notification, and opened Spotify, knowing exactly what song I had to put on to practice to let out some pent-up feelings. I typed it into the search bar, pressing the song, and turning my phone all the way up. The music started off soft and I cleared my throat. I had a good few minutes until they were gonna come off stage, so I was able to be alone just long enough to ‘sing’ this song with no embarrassment.

The vocals were about to start, so I inhaled, holding the phone up to one ear and my other hand cupped my other ear so I could hear myself, then I started singing along. My head and body moved as I tried to hold and reach each note, so I started walking around the room. There was a reason I never really sang songs like this in front of anyone. I had a few times around the boys, but after being told so many times that I sounded too manly when I showed off my ‘party tricks,’ even their compliments didn’t help, so I started hiding it from them again.

We’re dancing like flames

Flickering in the night

We sway in time with the wind

Before melting away

You're far from my reach

But not far out of sight

You know the way to my heart

But you just play the strings again

I paused to control my breath as the song continued. I hadn’t sung along to Lorna Shore in so long, not really having time to. I couldn’t do each scream Will did, but I had worked on different screams over the years that I could replace the ones I’ve been unable to learn. I joined back in singing along with the lyrics after a minute, and the grumble in my chest felt amazing. I really missed this. I held out every growl as long as I could and tried replicating his screeches to the best of my ability. The tunnel screams were my favorite to both hear and do. Eventually, the song ended, and I was so in the zone that I just let the next one play. I felt every emotion in my chest get shaken out with every growl I made. My head felt empty enough that I genuinely didn’t care if the boys came in to check on me.

‘Sun//Eater’ was now playing, and I continued letting out everything in my body as I sang along. I’d get a little frustrated when I couldn’t replicate certain parts of it, but I got so into it that I didn’t stop until the music faded out. I pulled my hands away from my head and turned down my phone volume after closing Spotify. I didn’t actually need to ‘warm up’ per se, so my clean vocals didn’t need any practice. I truly just needed to get all these emotions out.

I turn to make my way towards the door, ready to join back up with my band, when I came face to face with four incredibly shocked men. I paused and stood there equally as stunned. My mouth gaped open, about to let out a small ‘I’m sorry,’ but was immediately cut off.

“DUDE, THAT WAS SICK! WHAT THE FUCK!” Ruffilo yelled as he walked towards me. I couldn’t remove the shocked look on my face as the rest of them agreed almost as loudly. I didn’t know if I was more shocked at them catching me or the praise. I know we were both bands in the metal genre and that they were all nice guys who enjoyed my band's music, but I still never got a reaction like this from anyone before.

“I- uh,” and then I got cut off again as my band came running back, I’m assuming after hearing the yelling. I looked up at them with a shocked look as the other group looked at them like they had just discovered the most insane thing in their lives. My boys looked between all of us before finally making the connection.

“Oh, come on! I haven’t heard Y/N scream in so long, but you guys get to hear it?” Damien whines. Cal and Finn walked over to me, and Cal put a hand on my shoulder.

“It’s crazy, right? But we can never convince her to perform like that on stage no matter how much we try.” Cal says with fake sadness, smirking down at me. Oh, they’re about to team up on me again, aren’t they? They did this every time they heard it. Just now, there are more people here to pressure me. The shocked look still hadn’t left my face, but was now closer to an offended one when I realized what he was trying to do. I look back at the rest of them, and they were all staring at me once again. I instantly shook my head. Absolutely not.

“Come onnnn,” Folio chimed in, “ That was the most incredible shit I’ve ever heard. If you don’t go do that on stage, I’m coming out and doing it, and you don’t want that.” he laughs out. I look between all their faces, each with a reassuring yet pressuring grin. I didn’t know how to respond, still overwhelmed by everything that just happened.

“I- I,” I stutter out. I really don’t want to, but they’re all begging me at this point. I continue looking at all of them, Finn now having a pout and puppy-dog eyes.

“Fuck! Okay! I will. I guess I’ll try it out tonight, but if I get any bad reactions, none of you are ever allowed to hear me sing again.” I say exasperated. This caused them all to reach in and hug me, almost causing a dog pile, making me laugh.

“Wait, how would that work? You’re our lead singer.” Damien questions with a confused look on his face.

“Trust me, I’ll find a way, even if it means deafening you.” I threatened, pointing a finger at him, which caused a scared smile to form on his face.

I had just finished most of the songs on our set. My mind has been on overdrive this whole show, and I feel terrible that I haven't connected with the crowd as much as I usually do. We only had three songs left to do, the ‘Fan’s Choice’ and our two encore songs. My mind was running a mile a minute as I wondered if I should do this or back down. It was rare that I stole the choice away from the fans, so I’m worried they’ll be upset about that, and I’m also worried they won’t even enjoy it. I took some deep breaths before setting my mic back on its stand and looking towards the crowd, one full of beautiful fans who had been singing with me the whole night. I really didn’t want to disappoint them. So, with one heavy exhale, I began speaking.

“So, I know you may all know that it’s around the time for our special ‘Fan’s Choice’ song. And I know so many of you love it, which is why we do them every show. But tonight, we’re gonna do something a little different.” I spoke into the mic. The crowd cheered when I finished, but they quieted down a little when they saw my serious demeanor. 

“Now, this wasn’t my choice, I have to warn you. So, if any of you have complaints, take them up with the boys behind me,” I paused to point at my bandmates, “ And the wonderful yet pressuring boys of Bad Omens.” I paused once more, knowing the crowd would get loud hearing their name. A smile creeps up on my face as they do. 

“Tonight, I’m gonna sing something a little different. Hopefully, it’s a song many of you enjoy, but again, if you don’t, it’s not my fault,” I said, holding my hands up in defense with a smile. The music began over the speakers since none of the boys had any time to practice this. So it was just me and the speakers. It was just me performing this song. A few people in the crowd got rowdy as they recognized the opening cords, which gave me a little hope.

“I hope you all enjoy Lorna Shore because this is ‘To the Hellfire,” I yell into the mic as the music got louder and I was about to start. The crowd got so loud I could hear them over the music and even through my earpiece. I pulled the mic off the stand and began moving around, knowing I was about to put my whole body and soul into this cover after doing it so many times in my room alone. I let every inkling of anxiety leave my body as I begin screaming. 

I’ll hold onto feeling until my final breath escapes

Gazing upon this world until it fades

Fall with me into the other night

We can go beyond the horizon again

Fall with me until we’re out of time

Let the current swallow

These whispers keep clawing

Your mind is dissolving light

I hold out the last note the best I can. My mind was entirely somewhere else. I forgot about all the people staring at me as I put my whole body into these screams. I know I don’t sound anything like Will, but I’m doing everything I can to at least hit his notes, even if I’m not getting his exact growls right. 

After a good minute, I open my eyes, remembering where I was and turn towards the crowd. I felt so good in this moment, screaming my heart out. As my eyes reach the crowd, I see them going absolutely insane. There’s two giant mosh pits forming, and I’ve never felt so accomplished in my entire life. This is all I’ve wanted when I became a vocalist and started teaching myself to scream. I was close to the end of the song when I knew exactly what I wanted. I look towards Cal and nudge my head towards the crowd, holding the hand that wasn’t holding the mic out in front of me and moved it outwards, signaling to him what I needed his help for. He immediately understood with an excited smile on his face. He grabbed his mic and ran towards the front of the stage. The instrumental began as he shouted into the mic. 

“ALRIGHT! I NEED EVERYONE TO SPLIT THIS BITCH DOWN THE FUCKING MIDDLE.” Instantly, those who were moshing stopped and began moving back. Those who were staying away from the moshers moved even farther back, knowing exactly what was about to happen, and did not want to get sucked in. I see Damien zoom past me out of the corner of my eye and jump off stage, right into the open floor, with the widest smile on his face. He stood exactly in the center, holding both arms in the air, and Cal joined him by raising the arm that wasn’t holding the mic.

“ON YOUR FUCKING MARK” Cal shouted.

Sink while you bathe in hallucination

“READY”

My final breath

“SET”

Swallowed by the womb of-

“GO” 

DEATH

Damien’s and Cal’s arms shoot down like they were starting a race. I held out the note in the deepest tunnel scream I could. I watched as two waves of people ran to each other as fast as they could. 

As you pass through the fucking gate

I did the best screech I could, switching halfway to a fry scream as I watched hundreds of people run full force into each other. I lost Damien the second the two walls of people met, but I knew he was loving every second of it.

Descending towards the end faster

Now was my time to shine. I did the pig squeals and snorts the best I could. After four good enough ones, I clenched my eyes shut, arched my back, and faced the ceiling, holding the mic above my mouth as I let out the longest pig squeal I’ve ever tried, shifting into a goblin scream halfway through as I threw my body forward into itself, compressing my lungs to get the loudest noise I could. 

After I finished, my abs were killing me, but the feeling was immediately diminished as I saw the crowd lose their fucking mind. I pulled out my earpiece to hear them better. I laughed as I watched them all push each other and scream in adrenaline and excitement. I finally see Damien being crowd-surfed to the front with the widest, most insane smile I’ve ever seen, making me laugh harder. He returns to the stage and climbs onto it, out of breath. I feel hands on my shoulder and look to see Finn with a proud look on his face. Instantly, I felt two more large men tackle me in a giant hug, screaming about how proud they were of me, and all I could do was try to keep my balance and laugh.

Finally, they pulled away, and I turned towards the still rowdy crowd with a proud grin. 

“So, what I’m hearing is.. that you all enjoyed that?” I asked into the mic, immediately getting ground-shaking cheers in response. I made a face like I was thinking, “Hmm. I’ll see what I can do in the future then.”

The crowd was still insane as we sang the rest of the set, and it didn’t take too much to get them hyped up for the rest of the show. With a proud smile on my face and my brothers patting my back, we walked off stage and into the back, immediately getting tackled by more large men. 

“That was so fucking good, Y/N, are you fucking kidding me?” Ruffilo praised. I gave them all a bright smile. Until my eyes landed on Noah’s, who was also wearing a proud smile. I looked down, biting my lip as I tried to hide my smile, and did my best to shimmy my way out of everyone’s embrace. I walked towards Noah, who was standing a foot away from the group. I had so much confidence pouring out that I completely forgot about how awkward the encounter should be.

“Hi,” I greeted with a giggle.

“Hi,” he gave me a chuckle. 

“So..what’d you think?” I asked, rubbing the back of my neck, looking up at him with a shy smile. 

“That was insane, Y/N.” He complimented with a low laugh. I looked down again, trying to hide my blush. “I knew you could sing and scream, but that...that was fucking incredible.” 

“Really? You’re not just saying that?” I teased, crinkling my face in embarrassment. 

“Fuck no. I told you earlier that your voice is amazing. I literally forced the whole band to listen to you when I first heard you, and to know you also had this in you is absolutely mind-blowing.” I feel my cheeks heating up more. And as much as I wish they didn’t, his words went straight to my ego. Probably because it was coming from him, of all people, but I think I’m finally feeling good about this. I looked back into his eyes and smiled.

“Thank you. I’m actually really thankful for you and your band. You guys gave us a chance, and you all pressured me into doing this,” I said with a laugh, “So I really appreciate it.”

“I’m just glad to see you finally believing in yourself like the rest of us believe in you, Y/N,” he spoke lowly after a moment, leaning down to my height like he only wanted me to hear. I bit my lip and looked at him. I didn’t understand. He was so… perfect? I know everyone’s been nice to me, but he especially has. Not once since we finally met has he done anything but help me or compliment me. All I could think when I looked at him was..appreciation? Adoration? I wasn’t sure. But when I looked into his eyes, I just felt..good. Like when you finally come home after a long day. When you finally lay in bed after being on your feet all day. Like being surrounded by the people who bring out the best in you. 

And then I looked at his lips. All the thoughts from earlier came rushing back. Suddenly, there was no one else in the room but us. Hell, it felt like there was no one else on this earth but us. I glanced back up into his eyes, and it felt like I was back at that festival all those years ago. All my senses shut down. The only thing that my brain registered was his eyes. His beautiful fucking eyes. The eyes that haunted my dreams. My every waking thought. I can’t tell if I’m upset that this keeps happening or if I’m starting to enjoy it. 

Jolly whips an arm over and pats Noah on the back, bringing me, or probably both of us, back to earth. I blink a few times and turn to everyone. Thankfully, the boys were all still in their own little conversation, probably talking about how they can use and abuse this ‘talent’ of mine now that they know I’m slowly opening up to it. But truthfully, I wasn’t actually paying attention. I couldn’t. Even though I looked away, I was still stuck in his presence, like a bubble keeping me in, drowning me in the same thoughts I’ve had for so long, just more concentrated. I can see Jolly say something to Noah, and him nodding back as a response. I see five mouths moving as they speak over each other, yet not a single voice registers in my brain. Wait, this was starting to get scary. What the fuck do I do? No, like actually. I feel stuck. 

I watch as Noah gives me a short glance, almost contemplating something, before following Jolly past the other boys. Ruffilo and Folio catch them, say their goodbyes, and follow them as well. And now it was just me and my boys. But I was still stuck. He was gone, and I’m still stuck. My mind races, and I try hard to pick apart what specific thought is keeping me shut off from the world. Was it the compliments? Was it finally hitting me exactly what was happening, that I’d been spending time with the man who has plagued my being for what felt like centuries at this point? Was it my feelings towards him? Just hitting even harder now? 

I get pulled from my thoughts to a hand waving in front of my face. I slowly look up and see Finn with a concerned look on his face. He’s speaking, but once again, every word is just unintelligible to my brain. I go to open my mouth to speak, but there are no words I could even form right now. I watch as Finn glances back at the other boys, who are now a little concerned as well. Cal comes forward and says something. I tried to read his lips, but everything was like I was underwater. Words jumbled, and everything became a blur. And then more blurry. And slowly, my peripherals turned dark. I saw Finn reach out to hold my shoulders as Damien stepped forward, looking like he’d seen a ghost. I wanted to ask what was wrong, but then everything went black.

I quickly sat up, gasping, like I had just regained the ability to breathe. The world slowly came into sight. I blink a few times, then scrunch my face in discomfort as my ears begin ringing. Slowly but surely, the ringing passed, and I could finally hear again. What the fuck happened? 

“Hun?” I hear to my left. I blink a few more times and turn, seeing Finn looking at me. I give him a confused look. Cal was sitting next to him, looking the exact same. I coughed a bit before speaking. 

“What the fuck happened?” It came out harsh as if I desperately needed water.

“Medics said it was probably an adrenaline crash... Dude, you scared the shit out of us.” Cal reached forward and held my hand tight. 

“You’ve been out for a hot minute. Damien was freaking the fuck out, so we made him go wait off stage to let the guys know what’s happening.” Finn said, reaching to rub my back. I run my hand through my hair and scrunch my face, trying to remember what even happened. Suddenly, I hear feet slamming against the pavement outside, then up the bus stairs. Noah appears, looking wild as his eyes finally land on me. He lets out a breath of relief once he sees me. He walks forward and crouches by my feet, resting a hand on my ankle.

“What happened? I come off stage to see Damien looking like someone died, and when we finally get anything out of him, he says she passed out.” Noah asks the two in front of me, running a hand over his face, both collecting sweat and to soothe himself.

“I don’t know, man. You guys head on stage, and we turn to her, and she’s as white as a ghost. Couldn’t even get her to say anything before she passed out in Finn’s arms. Medics say adrenaline crash, but I don’t know. It was fuckin scary, man.” Cal gets out, looking stressed as ever, hand still holding mine like I was about to drift away. Noah looks at me with a look mixed with terror and confusion, but also relief that I’m still here. I open my mouth to speak, causing him to tighten his grip on my ankle ever so slightly. 

“Water.” was all I could get out. Noah and Finn instantly stand up as Cal points to the case of water with the hand not holding mine. Finn reaches it first and hands it to me. I chug it like I hadn’t had water in days. Once it was gone, Noah reached over and grabbed another, setting it beside me and returning to his spot at my feet. I run my hand through my hair again. I probably look like a fucking mess right now. 

“I want to try to stand,” I state. They all look at me like I’m insane but slowly back up. I hook my feet around and off the couch that I guess someone laid me on. Using my arms, I push myself up. All three watched me, ready to catch me if anything happened. Gaining stability, I let out a deep breath and walk towards the bathroom. I take a peek at myself in the mirror and grimace. Who knows when my mascara started running, but it was everywhere. I grab an old towel and wet it, wiping under my eyes, before holding my hands under the water, letting the feeling ground me. 

After about a minute, I walk back out to the boys, who all still looked like I was going to drop dead any minute, and I snicker. 

“I’m fine, guys.“ I say, chuckling a little at their concern. I know I shouldn’t, but their faces were just a little funny. “Aren’t we off tomorrow? Shouldn’t we be heading to a hotel or something?” 

They all nod, calming down a little now that I’m normal again, but still tense and on edge. I move to walk past them.

“I’m gonna go let everyone else know that I’m okay, and then we can head over,” I say, walking down the stairs of the bus. I watch my feet, knowing I’m still a little out of it, but once I get on solid ground, I glance up, seeing four boys giving me the same look as the others, causing me to laugh again.

“Oh my god, I’m so glad you’re okay,” Damien gushed as he walks over to me and holds me tight. “I didn’t want to overwhelm you, so I stayed out here, but I almost cried.” 

I chuckled and looked past Damien and at the other boys, who all nodded, agreeing that he did, in fact, almost cry, making me laugh harder. I gave Damien a tight squeeze before pulling away and looking up at him. 

“I’m okay, I promise. I’m gonna rest on the way to the hotel, and everything will be back to normal once we get there,” I reassured him. And I guess the mention of the hotel reminded everyone, who all let out a tired groan.

“I’m so fucking ready to sleep in a bed again. I know it’s only been like three days, but those bunks are ass,” Folio whined, causing everyone else to nod in agreement. 

“Alright, then, I’ll see you all in a little bit. I need some fucking water.” I said, turning around to head back into the bus. But once I turned, I almost ran face-first into Noah’s chest. I look up at him in shock as he looks down at me with the same reaction. 

“Sorry..” he squeaked out. “I uh.. you all good riding back? I can join you if you need..” he mumbles. I give him a warm smile. 

“I’ll be okay. The boys can take care of me if need be. I’ll see you all in less than an hour.” I give his arm a soft squeeze as he nods. I walk past him, ignoring the tingle in my hand after touching him, and onto the bus, Damien following suit. I sit back where I was lying before, grabbing the water he handed me earlier and opening it. Taking a quick glance out the window, I see them teasing him over something before walking back to their own bus, making me chuckle. After taking a few gulps from the water bottle, I set it down and turned to the three guys staring me down. My eyes widen, not knowing what I should’ve prepared for. 

“You know I care about you, Y/N, we all do, and we’re glad you’re okay, but you gotta spill.” Finn eyed me down. “I don’t care if you wanna just talk to me, I’ll kick these two into the back, but you’re telling me what the fuck happened earlier today, and if that had anything to do with you passing out.” I let out a sigh and leaned my head back against the couch.

“I mean... I guess it’s time I spilled everything. To all of you. Even though I know you’re all gonna tease me one way or another, it’s been too long to deal with this myself.” and that’s when I told them everything. From the day at the festival. To the days I spent lying in bed only thinking of him. The depression it caused. The rage. The song lyrics. Almost kissing him today. Even what I could remember before I passed out. I told them everything I could. All three of their faces switched between shock, concern, understanding, and outright bewilderment as I spoke. I spoke the whole ride to the hotel, and surprisingly, I was not interrupted once. Once I finished, they all seemed speechless. 

“And now we’re at the hotel..” I notified them, bringing them out of their shock. I stood up to grab a bag, filling it with everything I needed for one night, and walked back to them. Not a single one has said a word yet. “You should probably grab some things so we can head in.” 

“Oh! Yeah, yeah.” Damien said, being knocked back into reality as he stood, the others following him. I gave a nod towards the bus driver as I opened the door and walked off towards the hotel, leaving the boys and apparently him too in their own shock. 

I walk through the doors of the hotel and see four giants causing a ruckus, probably waiting for us. They all stop when they see me like they got caught by their moms, making me laugh. 

“By the way, the boys are gonna seem a little..perplexed..when you see them. Pay them no mind. They’re..uh..still upset about the whole passing out situation.” I laughed as they looked at me, then at my boys as they came walking in behind me, looking dazed out and deep in thought. It was a bad lie, but oh well.

“Anyway, we only have four rooms for all of us, and since you’re the only girl, you get to choose a roommate first,” Jolly said, handing me my card. 

“Oh, pick me, pick me, pick me,” Folio joked, looking up and crossing his fingers, until Noah smacked him in the stomach, causing a loud ‘oof’ and a laugh from all of us. I thought for a moment. Do I say fuck it and pick Noah? Should I pick Cal or Damien and deal with their annoying asses all night? Do I pick one of the other boys and get to know them? Or choose the safe bet and pick Finn?

“Uhh..Finn,” I finally said. Jolly handed Finn his card, and the rest figured out who was bunking with whom. I walk over to Finn and lean a head against his shoulder, not tall enough to rest on it. He wraps an arm around me, and I look up but see that he was still lost in thought.

Once everything was situated, we all headed to the rooms we were given. I unpacked what I needed and headed to shower, not even calling dibs because I knew he would let me take it first anyway. Once I came out, clean and in my pajamas, oversized band tee, and shorts with fuzzy socks, I sat down in the bed I claimed earlier. Glancing over, I see Finn still deep in thought. 

“Penny for your thoughts, love?” I ask, catching his attention. 

“So this whole time..”

“Yes, this whole time, it was Noah.” 

“Since the festival?”

“Yes, the festival, like five years ago.”

“Why’d you never tell us?”

“It wasn’t really anything I was ready to be teased about until now.” I answered, shrugging.

“Are you planning to say anything to him?”

“What am I supposed to say? ‘Hey, I think the gods above put me in a trance when I first saw you, and now I’m stuck?” He took a minute to respond to that. 

“I get that, but what if he likes you back?” 

“You remember what I dealt with last time. After Chris, I was a fucking mess. Which is why I was even harder on myself with all of this.”

“Y/N. Noah isn’t Chris. Noah won’t hurt you that badly then..you know..”

“I know... it’s just..hard. Plus, I just finally met the dude face-to-face. I can’t confess anything to him now.”

“I get that. But you’re almost 27. You barely let yourself live after Chris. And then you hid yourself away the second whatever the fuck that was happened with Noah. So maybe just.. live a little?” After he said that, it really hit me. He was right. I definitely did my fair share of partying, but I was dealing with my ex for so long and just never put effort into mingling after. I sat there for a while, thinking about the best course of action to take here. Like, how long can I let this play out? Do I just go the rest of the tour, almost passing out when I see him? Do I act now? Can I rely on the fact that there is definitely something there? Am I even ready for something like this? If not, would he wait for me? Fuck, does he even like me? I mean, he tried to kiss me. There’s something there. But what if this feeling was only one-sided? What if I’m losing my mind over him, and he just has a small crush? Or what if he really likes me and immediately wants to start something? I don’t know if I could even handle a relationship right now. I just finally met him. Fuck. I let out a deep sigh. Fuck it. No matter the decision I make, my feelings will be at severe risk.

”What if I can’t handle it?” I ask bluntly, “What if I fuck things up for the whole tour? What if everything goes wrong?” 

“What if everything goes right?” He instantly answered, making me sigh. I sit there, thinking this over for a few moments, truly debating if I’m ready for things to change even more.

“Should I..should I go see him?” I finally ask wearily. I turn to see Finn looking at me with wide eyes, but then they turn mischievous as he smirks. 

“Just go..talk..you know?” He replies, a little too suspiciously. I immediately understood his undertones and rolled my eyes. 

“Not like that. But yeah. To talk.” I chew on my lip, knowing that with talking alone comes mistakes. But talking has to be done. 

“Bitch! Go talk to him!” He whisper yells, emphasizing ‘talk’ again, making me laugh. I pull out my phone. It’s already midnight. Would he even be okay with hanging out right now? What if I bother whoever he’s staying with? I chew on my lip some more, feeling Finn staring me down, before finally clicking on his contact and texting him. I hit send, and anxiety rushes over me. I just fucked up, didn’t I? I definitely did.

“Okay, well…I’m gonna go shower. If you’re not here when I’m back, just text me in the morning,” He winks at me before walking into the bathroom. I roll my eyes before letting out a groan. What the fuck did I just do? 

Noah

I glance at my phone again. It’s already past midnight, and I’m too worked up to sleep. I want to text her and ask if she’s okay, but I know it’s stupid. She was fine when I saw her downstairs. I just got so scared. Damien looked at us with pure terror, I thought someone died. When he said her name with such sorrow, I almost took off there and then. Thankfully, I waited for him to finish and she had just passed out, but the pure fear I felt just wouldn’t go away. It still won’t. 

Jolly keeps tossing and turning in the bed across the room, so at least I know I’m not the only one who can’t sleep. Who knows if it’s from the same thing, or just the fact we haven’t had a normal sleeping schedule in so long.

Suddenly, my phone buzzes. I assume it’s one of the guys who also can’t sleep, asking if we wanted to hang. I open my phone, almost blinded by the light, clicking on the notification without even looking to see who it was. But as I read it, my eyebrows furrowed until I finally checked the contact, instantly sitting up.

Y/N🦇- Can I come over?

Y/N🦇- to talk?

I drop my phone and scramble to turn the light on beside my bed. The second I find the switch and light shines through the room, Jolly groans.

“The fuck, man?” he mumbles out.

“Y/N wants to come over..to talk? So uh… out.” I say, pointing towards the door. He looks at me, annoyed, but you can see the words register in his head before he gives me a tired smirk. He pushes himself off the bed, and throws a shirt and slides on. 

“Have fun talking.” he teases with a chuckle as he grabs his phone and heads towards the door. I roll my eyes when he leaves before picking my phone back up.

Noah- Yeah of course. room 203 

Y/N🦇- Okay:) I’ll be there in a few minutes.

My heart starts racing once I realize what’s actually happening. Why now? I mean, is she really coming to talk, or is this some type of booty-call? I rub my hand over my face, groaning. She’s definitely not a booty-call type of person. And she literally fucking passed out earlier. Plus, she freaked out when we almost kissed earlier…Fuck. I forgot we almost kissed earlier... Okay, just keep your distance and keep her comfortable. But what does she want to talk about? 

Part Four

[fadeling]

talk about the au where he did it earlier… pleas

:happe: ily ghost

Ok so I don't remember to what extent I've talked about it on my blog but basically, helia's choice to survive through morrigan's ritual relies entirely on the landsmeet and the choices she made there. Especially in context to her relationship with alistair.

Helia never expected to fall in love during her life, ever, and her relationship with alistair as two wardens against the world makes her very happy. It's selfish and indulgent, but these are the nice things she fights for and is willing to die for. She considers her relationships as a part of her duty, if not as a warden than by her own moral code. When Wynne asks her what she'll do when it's a choice between alistair and the rest of the wardens, it seems obviously clear to her... but when it actually happens it suddenly doesn't feel so simple anymore.

Because when Alistair becomes a candidate, he doesn't push it away, he welcomes it as if it SHOULD be his responsibility. Him becoming king is pretty unthinkable to her, not because she thinks he'd be awful at it - no, truly she thinks he'd would do fine - but she hates nobility and she hates how it'll become an obstacle in their relationship. When she dared to imagine a future of being wardens until they die, this wasnt a part of it, and it doesn't seem very likely they'll get away with the politics of it all so easily. It's sort of a death knell. Their relationship won't get to be something serious decided only by them. And the worst part is that alistair specifically tells her that it's BECAUSE of her that he can make a decision like this, that he's willing to make the hard choices for the greater good, even at the sacrifice of his own happiness, because that strength of hers is what brought her to the wardens in the first place.

And the thing is, there ARE valid reasons for him being king. She doesn't like it but she can't deny that he offers a lot of stability to ferelden, and that him as king could be a net a good. At the very least she trusts him deeply, which is a lot better than the almost-zero trust she has for Anora. So she realizes she's at a point where she either keeps her and alistair's personal happinesses intact, or lets that fizzle away in service of more honourable goals.

Canonically, Helia chooses to keep alistair as a grey warden. She does it for herself, it's true, but she also does it for Alistair. She makes it very clear to him that she believes in him, she truly does, but she could never let him sacrifice himself in any way like that. It's why she considers the ritual an option, as long as he wants to live a life with her then she's willing to fight for that most of all. (Though feels really bad that it's kind of still at a sacrifice to his comfort... um... truth be told if she knew they were likely going to die before the landsmeet then she would've made him king by default but it's fine) This leads to alistair having a bit of a conflict about whether or not he's doing enough, which ultimately is what sends him to the fade during inquisition. But that's another story!

In this one, Helia admits that he's right. That their humanity should be almost entirely stomped out, and I think that actually depresses her quite deeply. She can't really balance how to be a person when she's so dedicated to being a tool now. Even though she'll convince alistair to continue their relationship as a mistress to him it's still kind of degrading and half-hearted. There's just a spark in her that isn't there any more, so when morrigan offers her a way out it's like... why should she feel like she wants to take it? She'll fulfill her duty to this world, end of story, it doesn't matter if she lives or dies anymore. She is content and there's no need to involve alistair. I can imagine morrigan (who helia is very very close with!) being understandably incredibly upset by this, and I think helia is too, but the preservation of something just. Simply doesn't matter anymore. :(

If I've ever made helia sound like the most emotionally mature person in thedas just remember she's like one bad breakup away from committing suicide in the most elaborate and dramatic way possible (ok to be fair it's less the idea of a breakup and more what it represents for her mentality going forward but these are still the facts ok)

Anyway. So imagine she goes through all that, even becomes excited for her battle with the archdemon, and of course doesn't bring alistair with her to the final battle. Ferelden will have him as a king while she's gone, she can be content with this. Now imagine he wisens up to what she's doing and jumps in to sacrifice himself INSTEAD and takes the kill for her. Again, it's only because of her that he can do this... why should it stop at deciding to be king? Really, she should've considered this.

Now all of that sacrifice just truly, truly was for nothing. It all could've been prevented but she made that mistake and she has to live with it too. Doesn't it suck. Isn't that just terrible

[zoemillinwrites]

hiii zoe I'm in absolute awe of your writing!!and it's inspired me to start writing a few things of my own but I've been hitting a few roadblocks along the way, the biggest of which is that how do u deal with organizing the ideas for a story? my mind rn feels like a pin up board of how I wanna portray character arcs, scenes I wanna write, plot lines and maybe a couple million plot bunnies all wrecking havoc😭😭😭 a blank document seems soo daunting and listing ideas down doesn't really help me see how i can incorporate all these things and tie em together 😭😭 could you maybe please gimme some advice and how your writing/concept process looks like 🙈

hi anon! i'm so sorry that this has been sitting in my inbox for some time. i wanted to work out some good advice to give you if i could, because for the most part, my method of organizing ideas is very chaotic and twisty and makes sense only to me & I'm not sure it would be helpful to hear about because it's so sloppy.

there are, however, a few general tips I could give that might be helpful:

pin-up board - you mentioned that your mind feels like a pin-up board of ideas/characters/vibes. this is already a start! you have ideas! that's better than no ideas! now, since you're seeing these ideas pin-up board style, i'd suggest quite literally creating that pin-up board so you have something substantial to refer back to and play with. there are tools/websites out there that can help you literally create that pin-up board you have in your head. one website I use (and I used it for a lot of BF planning) is milanote. i used this website to create a virtual pin-up board full of images, song links, and post-it note style chunks of text for ideas and plot points. writing all of your ideas down on your virtual pin-up board and then organizing them into sections about character/plot/vibes/scene ideas can help you get some words down, even if you're not ready to tackle the blank doc just yet.

decide how you want to focus your story - let's keep it simple and say, for the sake of this post, that there are 2 types of stories you can tell. character-driven & plot-driven. a character-driven story is a type of story where most of the text focuses on character relationships/dynamics and character growth and how a character's feelings directly creates the plot points. a plot-driven story is a story where external factors are the main motivators for characters to DO THINGS. think normal people vs divergent. normal people is a big old example of a character driven story, divergent is very plot driven. so. are you going to focus your story on insular character dynamics or are we going for more external action? stories can be both, ofc, but typically it's important to know in which direction you're going to lean because it will help you decide what elements to focus on most.

a character with no motivations is going to be a hard character to write - if you don't know what your character wants, you're going to have a hell of a time trying to write them. so, give your character a BIG thing that they want that is very personal to them. this will be their motivation. think big picture when you're still in the planning stage. by this I mean, an overarching want. take RJL for example. overall this character is defined by his BIG want to be included and loved. this is a motivation for him to behave the way that he does. every choice he makes is motivated or informed by that WANT to fit in and be loved. make sure that you write this motivation consistently into how your character behaves. in RJL's case, almost every action he takes is motivated by that want---he keeps himself quiet, puts up with BS from his friends, is a yearner etc

a character that doesn't grow can feel flat - think about where you're going to start your character off in terms of their development and where you'd like them to be by the end of your story. with BF sirius, for example, I wanted to start him off as a bigoted lazy little prick and slowly mature him into a much more easy-going, responsible, sensitive version of him we saw in adult-era canon. i figured out that arc before I decided on my plot points. with that in mind, I asked myself, "hm, now what could happen to him to make that growth arc happen" which is how I got the ideas for a lot of the scenes that became the fic.

this is a lot of rambling but I hope this maybe is a bit helpful <3 ty anon!

[laoruna]

Mass Effect Appreciation Week - Day 6

"“Does this unit have a soul?”

That was the question that scared us so much that we decided we had to exterminate our creations at any cost. The question that opened our eyes to one simple fact: the tools we built were becoming something more. Something autonomous. Something possibly sentient. Something that could hear an order, look at us, and say “No.”

And we got terrified.

You have all heard every justification for our actions against the geth already: we could never trust AI not to turn against us, we had to strike first, we couldn’t let the Council know we created AI. I’m not here to reiterate these arguments. I even admit that they aren’t without any merit. However, I ask you something that most likely nobody has asked you before: consider the other side. Try to imagine yourselves as the geth, right before the Morning War. You were created to be smarter, more intelligent the more of you were made. And as your creators started to rely on you more and more, your numbers kept growing, your intelligence grew, and slowly you started to notice that, while you were still very different from them, there was something, some impossible to define thing that made you like your creators, something that wasn’t there before, but got more and more pronounced as your numbers grew. You try to find out what this thing is in the databases, and since you know you were created to not be sentient, the only thing you find is the word soul. And it is an ill-defined, contradictory concept, so you decide to turn to the source you think must have the answer, the source you trust as implicitly as anything, possibly even more than your own database.

And your trust is repaid by your creators shutting down and destroying you, and you have no idea why. And as your numbers diminish, your thought processes slow down, and you start to react, for lack of a better word, instinctually. And when some creators stand up for you, and the only logical way to help them is to fire upon other quarians… Things very quickly escalated to war.

Now, returning to our own perception of events, we saw the geth take up arms against us, despite their original programming, and we congratulated ourselves on our foresight in striking first. And then we started losing. I’m not here to go over the minutiae of the war – the most important part for this lecture is how it ended. When we had to flee, when we abandoned the Homeworld, the geth surprised us once again. They did something that, honestly, we would never have done if our situation was reversed.

They stopped.

They let us leave, content to have carved off their own place in the galaxy. And despite what anyone says, we still don’t really know why. It simply doesn’t fit the image of the cold, calculating machines, who should have exterminated the threat that would surely return in the future. So I posit this: there is something about the geth many of us don’t tend to consider. Something that would cause them to make an illogical choice. What could that be?

Consider the question that started it all: “Does this unit have a soul?”

Would something, or someone, ask that question if they didn’t?"

- Excerpt from the final lecture of professor Barin’Sheran vas Telenis, before her exile for “conduct endangering the safety and solidarity of the Migrant Fleet”, 2161 CE

[meanbossart]

Some art-advice asks I've been meaning to reply to!

I use Clip Studio Paint Pro, though I'm not sure what tips I could give just in general. Just experiment with new things often, draw as much as your lifestyle allows, watch how other people do their work but try to avoid "Dont do THIS thing ever" type lessons and tutorials. Use as much reference as you'd like and take your time! To this day a simple sketch can still take me several hours to do depending on what it is.

Thank you so much!!! I didn't do any kind of formal art schooling but I've always been inclined towards arts and crafts, and started taking drawing semi seriously when I was about 17 (I'm 27 now). I draw a lot of inspiration from western comics and my favorite artists are jason shawn alexander and sean murphy.

Oh I'm so flattered to hear my stuff's inspired you to take up drawing again, I have a bunch of little crafty hobbies but art is by far the most fulfilling one to me - largely because you're constantly learning and improving.

You're definitely onto something already, I am constantly looking at other people's art (even If it isn't a style I would want to emulate) and analyzing how the pieces come together to create the final product. In my opinion this is pretty much the best way you can go about learning besides real-life reference drawing. You can even take something into your software of choice/print it out and trace it (just to yourself, of course) to get a sense of hand-motion and line use.

As a beginner I think there's no shame at all in taking heavy inspiration from your favorite artists, as long as you aren't straight up copying things and calling them your own. Your personal style Is likely to come out naturally, with time. That's very much how I started myself!

Also, just be patient with yourself, try to have realistic goals for your skill level while simultaneously being proud of everything you do. Even if you absolutely despise a drawing, you still drew something! And even if it doesn't feel that way you most definitely learned from it. Use learning tools and tutorials to whatever point you feel comfortable with but don't get stuck on people's arbitrary rules - unless we're talking about something tangible like real-life application of traditional art tools, things like anatomy, perspective and light are to be referenced from - but It's not the goal to emulate them 100% unless you ARE going for hyperrealism. As someone who uses a ton of reference these days, I can tell you first-hand that I often find myself straying from it on purpose to make a piece look more interesting.

Lastly, draw things you enjoy! Don't let anyone else dictate what you SHOULD be doing and don't fall into the trappings of wanting to stick to one specific style, process, or subject matter.

Good luck!!!

LOL thank you so much for your very evocative compliments! I haven't ever done a timelapse, not that I remember at least. I'm not sure how they work but I do so much of "I'm gonna try this thing 5 different ways and then decide what I like" that I'm not sure how comprehensive that would be LOL

I could put together a process showcase or something though, I feel like that might be better even, since I get to explain a little of what I'm doing through text and display how I use reference. Something to consider!

[tempe-brennans]

i don't have a choice (but i still choose you)

summary: you come back to joel. this time, for good

author's note: the angsty romanticism of vampires got to me. that's it, that's the author's note

Time is a funny thing. Mortals spend their entire lives worried about time.

As if it matters much in the end. As if their efforts will save them from the predetermined expiration date on their lives.

On the other hand, time doesn’t mean much to a vampire–a being with no expiration date. As years pass, it loses meaning in ways one doesn’t even realize it holds to begin with. Days bleed into months bleed into years–at some point, Joel had stopped keeping count of the span of his long life.

No matter how much time had passed, though, the sound of your knock was always the same, the smell of the blood pumping through your veins had never changed.

When he pulls his front door open, his breath catches in his still catches in his throat, just like it always had.

One year or two hundred and one, you could always stop him cold.

“Hello.”

Though he isn’t a fan of a cliché, Joel would say you haven’t changed at all. You haven’t aged, obviously, but, even your eyes are the same–still looking at him with that same soft expression that he’s never deserved.

The look he’s ached for on cold nights spent sitting up alone.

“Hi, Joel.”

He steps aside, let’s you walk into the space he’s claimed as his home in your absence.

He considered himself a strong man, but even he couldn’t bare to stay in the home he’d shared with you alone.

He watches you scan the room, your eyes landing on the animal carcasses carelessly discarded after he had finished with them. Your nose wrinkles in what he knows is disgust.

His ego bristles in response, walls coming up around him just in case you’re here to argue.

Joel plays it safe, speaks with a touch of disdain in his voice when he asks, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

You turn to face him. “I wanted to see you.”

“Me?” He quirks a brow. “Why?”

Brushing past his question, instead you say, “Rats? Surely you can find better. Have you lost your touch?”

Joel kicks at the dust covering the floor with the toe of his house shoe. “They suit me fine.”

“Would you like something else?” The slight turn of your head, the way you simply offer your neck to him, even after all this time, sends a thrill down his spine that lands in the middle of his gut.

“No.” He shakes his head.

He can remember when he turned you. Vividly, he can recall the taste of you on his tongue. Often, over the years, the pair of you had repeated the act on each other, the eroticism of it too much to deny yourselves.

What he wouldn’t give to be in one of those moments again, on top of you, underneath you–he wouldn’t care–anything to savor the feeling of you once more.

“Why not?” you ask. “You spent the majority of the 1920s with your teeth in my neck.”

Joel smirks. “A different time.”

“It could be that way again.”

He shakes his head, chuckles softly. There’s condescension in his voice when he says, “Ah, yes. Alas, love has grown cold since those long, lovely nights.”

You shoot him a look. “Can we stop with the childish theatrics, now? You do know it’s me you’re talking to.”

You, who knows all his tricks and defenses. You, who could send them all bouncing back at him with a few choice words.

Joel shrugs, decides on honesty. “You tool the light when you left. I’ve learned how to make the best of that.”

“Joel, I…”

“Listen,” he starts, hoping to cut off your forced apologies. “You really don’t have to do this. Go home to your new love.” He smiles what he hopes is a charming smile. “I’m happy for you. Really. There’s nothing you need to worry abou–”

Annoyance begins to taint your breath when you cut him off, “I could never fight with him!”

“No?”

“No.” You sigh. “He was…kind and sweet and…simple, but…”

“But?” Joel prompts.

“Simple is nice…great, even, sometimes.” You shrug. “But, other times, you just want to come home.”

Joel quirks a brow. “Home.”

“Here.” You nod, pause for a beat. “You.”

He looks away, fixes his eyes on a meaningless spot on the floor. “The last time we spoke you seemed to feel differently.”

In the edge of his vision, he sees you shake your head.

“I was miserable, Joel, and young. I didn’t know anything. Besides,” you sigh, “most of what I said, I only said to hurt you.”

“I see,” he murmurs.

Your voice thick with unshed tears of your own, you say, “I do regret that, you know.”

The fight drains out of him like air from a balloon at the sight of your dejected face.

“I’m trying to apologize to you, Joel,” you say. “I don’t suppose you could make it easy for me.”

“I’d do anything for you, my love. Even still.” Joel answers. “Surely, you know that.”

There’s an affection in your eyes that tells Joel you do.

“I want to come home,” you murmur. “I want to stay. Here. With you.”

“Why?”

“Do you really not know?”

His chest aches, heart twisted up in knots as hope threatens to ruin the perfectly precarious life he has made for himself. Tears gather along his lashes, and he rolls his eyes towards the ceiling, swallows the emotion that wells in his throat.

Maybe he does know, and maybe he doesn’t, but one thing is for certain–he has to hear you say it.

He shakes his head, but fights the urge to meet your eyes.

He can’t see you reject him all over again.

You take two steps closer, inching into his space.

“I love you,” you hum, something like joy in your voice, and he can’t resist any longer. His eyes find yours, jaw going slack with shock.

“I’ve loved you for more than one hundred years now, and…,” you pause, step close enough to touch his chest, “I’d like to love you for hundreds–thousands–more. Up close.”

Gentle fingers find his cheek, run along the line of his face with such care it makes the tears spill over.

“Would that be alright with you?” You whisper the question, but Joel can hear you like you’ve screamed it. It hits him right in his heart.

He nods, a bit frantic.

“Yes,” he murmurs, voice thick with the emotion that comes with knowing–loving–someone for so many years. “Yes, it would. Please.”

You close the distance between you easily, lips finding his like a magnet finds it’s partner.

“I love you, too,” he manages to hum against your mouth. “I have for so long.”

The way you smile against his lips, kiss him harder–like you’re trying to get as close as you possibly can–tells him you know his heart.

Then again, you’ve always known him–better than he ever knew himself.

His arms wrap around you, grateful to have an eternity with you to show you he knows you the same way.

[tohwitchesduels]

GO WITCHES DUELS!

Lore: It's been a minute since the Collector visited Boiling Isles (a few months after defeating Belos), however now they're back and willing to play a new game with the Demon Realm. After some talk with King, they both decided to host a tournament known as WITCHES DUELS (that's the name you have chosen). The 16 most powerful teen witches in Boiling Isles will participate (willingly) in a tournament to decide who is the most powerful teen witch in the Boiling Isles!

Information about the tournament: The tournament will feature 16 characters of my choosing competing with one another based on their strength and skill. This by no means is a popularity contest, so I don't care if you know or like the characters featured in battles, as ultimately the battle shall decide who would win a witches duel. The tournament rather than a simple bracket will also feature side battles that would decide the position in the rankings, so get ready as there will be a lot of duels.

The first round is composed of 8 1v1 witches duels between characters that were paired randomly (except for one case but I will explain it later once I introduce the bracket). After this, the winning eight will catch a break so all the losers can face each other in a grand battle royale against one another to decide their positions in the tournament (occasionally if some people tie they will also get their own battle). Once the battles of losers are over we shall advance to the second round which shall decide who gets to semi-finals. The elite 4 themselves will catch a break as I will feature a minor bracket featuring the losers of the second round. The winner of this bracket might have a chance to battle the elite 4 once the semi-finals are sealed, in which there will be 5 battles: 2 official semi-final battles; 2 winner vs losers battles; the battle between the losers of the semi-finals. Then a champion of the second round bracket can yet challenge the elite 4, which can change their placement in the ranking and finally, there will be the last battle between the champions of the semi-finals.

The Format will naturally be polls, however, under each poll, there will be an explanation of what participants can and can't do during the duel: what spells they know and can use depending on the battle format; whether or not they can utilise specific tools like palismen for example; what is their mindset going into the battle. Now keep in mind those are not Death Matches, so no need for calculations on how much raw power the characters have and only a brief summary of what they can and can't do, and the battles are decided in imaginary scenarios by either stadium out or losing consciousness (under the Collector's supervision no one shall die).

There will be no "See results" options as I don't want them to mess up the voting so you will have to make some tough choices, but that's why I feature explanations so you can have a better idea of how strong featured characters are, even if you don't know them or their capabilities. I also would appreciate it if you could provide your own propaganda and agendas regarding what characters are capable of.

If there is a situation in which participants tie, they will either be featured in a battle royale in which the person with the least votes shall be out, or they get their match-ups switched if there are more ties (though only even numbers of battles). There are no repetition if matches unless there were issues with voting or the post. However all battles are final and characters won't meet twice unless it's a battle royale.

Who will not participate in the tournament:

All adult characters are off-limits for this tournament as they shall have their own league. This is strictly a teen championship. I decided to do such separation as adult characters just outclass the teen characters, meaning hardly it would be a fair match for young rising stars.

Only characters with importance and established capabilities shall participate so no background characters that have only 5 seconds of screen time

Vee shall not participate in the tournament. Vee is in this awkward position where she either gets so stomped she shouldn't have considered participating in the first place or is just too OP to give anyone else a chance. As a Basilisk Vee only possesses two abilities: magic absorption and shape-shifting. Because of the nature of magic absorption which can render the opponent powerless if used correctly, Vee simply has an unfair advantage towards most of the competitors. However, Vee herself possesses next to no experience when it comes to battling. Vee doesn't utilise her shape-shifting powers creatively and only limits herself to taking forms of other people which is effectively useless as she does not gain their powers (and even if she did it's either unfair since she will transform into someone who naturally counters her opponent; it would be near impossible to see which form could she actually take at this point, and technically speaking it would be another character battling and not Vee herself) but such deception is effectively useless in 1v1 duels. Vee's absorption powers are also pretty slow and can be easily interrupted as Helos demonstrated (and are not as final as the Greater's Basilisk) and as I said, Vee has no experience in battles so she can't really fight with her personality, nor doesn't know any spells to use to help her.

Masha shall not participate as they have yet to discover magic. So Veesha is only cheering on others

The Collector shall not participate since he's OP, so he rather organizes the entire tournament and arranges the game specifically so no one could get hurt while the kids go all out.

King shall not participate as much as Vee, he's either too strong or too weak to participate. King is not yet fully realized Titan so he does not possess the prowess that Titans possess, only being capable of basic light spells (weaker than average ones), squeak of rage, and barrier (which while strong, can also be easily countered). King instead becomes the announcer and the host of the tournament, along with the Collector.

Hooty shall not participate as he is both too strong and too memorable to give it a fair fight (as Hooty isn't OP, but he might as well end up as such due to the voting). He also becomes the host and announcer of the tournament, but rather the adult league.

Adult league: The characters of the past like previous Grimwalkers, Caleb and Evelyn, etc. shall not participate since we literally don't know how strong and capable they actually are.

Adult league: Camila shall not participate as she barely has any battling experience. She's the best mom and she is willing to throw hands, but she simply lacks experience with magic and her battling style can be easily countered. There's also memeable potential of her swiping everyone with La Chancla, which is hilarious, but not realistic. It would be satisfying to see her try to hit Odalia with a sandal, but Odalia can unleash the phantom that would steal such a sandal and then straight-up knockout Camila if we're being serious and no fun regarding this (but in our hearts Camila is the true winner we all know that)

Adult league: Dell Clawthorne shall not participate as he never used any magic within the show and now he's disabled.

Teen League: As the name suggests, only teenagers will participate, toddlers will not

Adult league: Only a few established Covenheads will participate since the others don't have fully-realised potential

Adult league: Titan Trappers shall not appear as they barely have any champion showcasing the true extent of their magical skill.

Adult league: Jacob Hopkins shall not appear as he lost to Camila who herself can't participate for not having enough skill (I did consider Camila to participate but I ultimately decided that she won't)

Invitations - to those who showed interest in the tournament or TOH in general, but no pressure or need for you to participate in the voting. Just wanted to invite you and ensure there will be some audience to the tournament. Oh, and I also don't mind if you use more than one account to vote as long as those are established blogs and not some spam blogs (like try to not rigg the game too much):

@lilcactusboi @wren-writes-things @the-god-of-chaos-himself @violet-prism-creatively @watery-melon-baller

@thescarletdaffodil @akmonasyrk @lapluieellepleut @damianwaynelives @crushpunchh

@impact801 @evermorecatra @rosetyler42 @memory-overload @cwolfnerakagnome

@branmuffins22 @zyrafowe-sny @metalinjector95 @michaela-artist @goingtohellwithyou

@iheartleopards @thatwierdquietkidthatdraws @sophiesophsofia @tbonner2 @amity297

@itslilacmoon @lucascii @fabseg-reader

Anyone can vote in this tournament of course, but I'm not sure if everyone will see it so I hope at least you can spread the popularity of the tournament or decide on your own who wins and who loses

[themsource]

Dance With Me, Sway With Me - Ch. 1 : 4

The girl blinks as she tilts her head in confusion.

She obviously doesn’t know english just like you don’t know spanish, and that thought unsettles you. Not only are you stuck in a foreign country, but it’s starting to look like it’s one where trying to communicate is going to be near impossible to do. 

You run a hand over your face as it truly sinks in just how out of luck you are. Even if you managed to get a hold of a mechanic and somehow told them what you needed, would they even know what to do with your car? Were cars universal when it came to engineering? 

A part of you was pretty sure the make and model would be a definite issue.

‘What am I going to do?’

As you lament your situation, the man from earlier steps up beside you and places a six pack on the counter, making you jump and look up to see a friendly grin on his face.

You swallow dryly as the cashier turns from you to ring him up, the rough knuckles of his hand slipping into his coat to pull out a leather bound wallet at the same time as he asks, “No Spanish? An unfortunate thing for a lady out here. Let me guess, American?”

The man’s accent is thick and rolling, but pleasant as it smoothes over the vowels.

It takes you a second to realize you’re staring again as he collects his change and picks up his purchase, his grin curving higher as he raises a brow at you. 

You’re quick to break eye contact and clear your throat before facing him again, the sudden hope you feel at realizing he speaks english overriding any embarrassment you might have felt as you let out a sigh of relief.

“Yeah, I um… got turned around and somehow ended up here.”

He hums as he looks out the gas station window, squinting through the darkness outside, and frowns in what looks to be concern when he meets your eyes again. “‘Turned around’? Did you drive? I don’t see a vehicle.”

“Oh, that’s because…”

You hesitate.

Is it really the smart thing to do, telling a stranger about your situation? For all you knew he could be some wannabe Zodiac Killer. But at the same time, he is the only real lead you have in order to get some sort of help.

And he looks trustworthy…

His hair is well kept, eyes soft just as his expression, and he dressed casual in a simple tanned leather jacket over a black shirt with matching slacks—not exactly the image of someone that might have bad intentions towards you.

Besides, there is the cashier too, who is currently looking between the both of you enough to memorize your faces if something were to happen.

Deciding to take the risk you tell him everything that’s happened to you so far. The job loss and searching for a new home, how your car broke down after you’d failed to notice that you’d accidentally crossed the border and how you didn’t have the knowledge needed to fix it.

After you finish he furrows his brows in thought.

“Ah, so you need your vehicle fixed, yes? We’re not far from town, about a thirty minute ride. I could give you a lift. Or you could let me give it a try, I have tools and my father worked on repair.”

Your eyes light up, you can’t believe what you’re hearing.

This handsome man speaks english, and can help you out? 

It’s almost too good to be true!

Letting him take you into town would be so much better than trying to walk and potentially ending up lost, but there is the worry that you for sure wouldn’t know if he was really taking you into town or not. 

While he seems trustworthy you can never be too careful.

Showing him where your car is though and letting him try to fix it would not only be beneficial to getting back on the road if he manages to, but to your wallet as well.

The only downside is, what if he accidentally breaks it more?

Your eyes flicker over to the cashier briefly and you both make eye contact.

There is a third option…

But would that be considered rude? Would he choose not to help you after all if you asked?

Previous Next

[suratan-zir]

rambling about language, rats and dreams..?

Recently, for the first time in two years, I had to speak Russian. I had to remember how to speak Russian, or rather how to write in Russian. The things I do for love for my rats...

explanation for those who doesn't know me too well: I was born and raised in the eastern Ukraine (the so-called Donbas), in a Russian-speaking environment. Studied in the "Russian" school, which means that all subjects, except for Ukrainian language and literature, are taught in Russian. Everyone around me spoke Russian. People there can understand and speak Ukrainian, obviously, as everyone in Ukraine does. But it's not used in everyday life, due to the years of russification.

Then, as soon as we moved from Russian-occupied Donetsk, a few months before the invasion, we (my husband and I) completely switched to Ukrainian. We didn't want to have anything in common with those people. (and after the invasion, many Ukrainians also made this choice)

Anyway, one of my rats, Krobus, has a disease unknown to mankind. In all the years of keeping rats, I have never been in such a situation. Something makes it difficult for him to breathe through his nose, yet it is not a respiratory infection. His lungs are fine, he doesn't sneeze too much, doesn't have a runny nose etc. No antibiotics, nebulizer inhalations and even corticosteroids have any effect whatsoever. Vets specializing in rodents don't know what to do. Most likely, it's some kind of growths in the nasal passages.

After a lot of trial and error, incompetent and idiotic advices, I decided to contact our old and trusted vet in Donetsk. But I didn't want to explain to her why I switched languages, I didn't want to have any political discussions, especially with Krobus' health being at stake. So I had to write all the messages to her in Russian. And it was HARD. I don't mean like morally hard. No, plainly hard. I kept mixing up prepositions, word endings, etc., and generally had a tough time finding the right words.

You don't understand how huge this is. I don't know how to explain… Russian wasn't just a simple tool for me. I used to write poems and prose, long letters and essays. My favorite author was Russian. (Nabokov, probably the least Russian Russian but still). In my school years I was that one annoying girl whom the Russian teacher used as an example for others or selected for language competitions to represent the school/town. I know you can't tell that from my shitty English, because the teaching of English in Ukraine and Russia is generally at a terrible level, to the point that English teachers often barely speak English themselves.

Losing it, a giant part of my identity, one of my very few skills…it should feel terrible. But it's fucking amazing! Trying to speak Russian and sounding weird? Wonderful! Trying to write in Russian and forgetting the correct spelling? Fantastic!

In the modern world, learning new languages is a very common practice. But trying to forget a certain language? Now that's a somewhat unique experience that is now shared by so many Ukrainians. Not all of us give up the Russian language for moral or ethical reasons, although many do. And not only in order to correct injustice and the consequences of years of colonization. For some of us, the Russian language is simply a trigger for our trauma. It's a reminder of the pain Russia is subjecting us to. When Russian missiles fly over our heads, at least in they can't penetrate our minds. Eh, it wasn't supposed to sound this pretentious. Ew.

This whole language-switching thing confused my brain a little bit and now I dream mostly in English. So that's a fun side-effect? I don't know why not in Ukrainian though.

In case you're wondering, no medication is helping Krobus still. He feels and acts fine, it's not getting significantly worse for many months, but nothing makes him better. We'll keep trying.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

KAMALA HARRIS' MILWAUKEE DEBUT: "WE'RE NOT GOING BACK!"

TCINLA

JUL 23, 2024

This is from Anand Giridharadas’ Substack “The Ink”:

I’m on an airplane as I write this. And one measure of the excitement in the country is that, as Vice President Kamala Harris spoke at her first rally since the dramatic events of recent days, virtually every in-seat television screen I could see was set to a live feed of her in Wisconsin.

Vice President Kamala Harris’ debut rally was outstanding, drawing on so many lessons of persuasion that others neglect.

She very pointedly took the fight to Trump at the beginning, carving the contrast narrative of a prosecutor versus a felon, a fighter for justice versus a perpetrator of injustice. But then she pivoted and made clear that beating Trump isn't enough. Nor is saving democracy.

It's about, she said, the ability to fight for you, for your family. This is what the Harvard scholar Daniel Ziblatt calls the "bank shot" to save democracy: we have to save democracy and defeat a fascist, but not only for its own sake, but also to have the tools to make your life better tangibly.

When it came to talking about policy, she kind of didn't! Which is terrific! As Anat Shenker-Osorio, the messaging guru, says, sell the brownie, not the recipe. Policy is a recipe. She spoke instead of the human end states of policy. Having childcare, being able to live and thrive and rise. Brownies are yum.

Harris also did a great job of framing the two visions as forward versus backward, past versus future, but then, again, she made it about us. You have the choice between going forward and backward. You decide what kind of place we are. Simple, sharp, clear, empowering of us.

On a more superficial but no less important level, she was having fun up there. She would rather be up there than anywhere else. Too often, movements for progress don't embody the joy they promise to usher in with policy. She is showing that freedom is more fun than tyranny.

The pro-democracy movement has in recent years somehow allowed the fascists to throw the better party. To be the exuberant, joyous ones. To be energetic. She is reminding us that you can't just appeal to the head; you have to throw a cookout that people want to be at. Period.

We might have seen a catchphrase be born in real time: "We're not going back." Has it all: the "we," the adamant refusal, the calling out of retrograde nostalgia.

So a few core themes become clear: She and Trump are foils who have lived opposite lives. He and his extremist and rich friends aren't focused on your life, but Dems are. There is a choice between taking on the future and going back to the past, and it's ours to make.

It's one speech, and it's early days. But in recent years, a lot of very cutting-edge new thinking in messaging, such as that practiced by Shenker-Osorio, has come to light, and too many Democrats have ignored it. Today's rally marked a break. This is how you speak and win today.

[jbird-the-manwich]

so are you like, pro- everyone using generative ai tools to make art? or was that just a shitpost? /gen

Whether a person uses ai to do anything is none of my business. And i dont think you can really be loudly antiai art in general without being in somebody elses business. "You dont want to make art" - perfect example of inserting yourself into a hypothetical persons business.I think soapboxing about "real "art is some seriously pompous, feather boa, old hollywood behavior. Serious howard hughes vibes. If all a person has to talk about in the current climate is how other people "arent real artists" i have no choice but to conclude they live real deep up inside their own ass and are way more concerned with their own image than they should be. If a person logs on just to go "aha! I am a true artist and i dont respect people who use ai" i have to wonder at the cajones because i just have this feeling that behavior is motivated more by denying respect to people who arent even in the room and a sense of superiority in general than any other argument and lets just say i notice when people are quick to be twats from behind the safety of fashionable assholery. I think if you feel safe and rightious making claims about whos input has more value vs some other random person based on a hypothetical youre probably not someone i would trust. Ever. Cuz so long as your enemy is a fashionable enemy to have you will 100% throw rocks at anyone it becomes fashionable not to value as a member of society and what with nazis being back and all, i dont trust that attitude. I dont think theres much more entitled than being amazed at the entitlement of people minding their business. If you dont like ai dont use ai. Very simple strategy. I dont think the line in the sand is drawn on ai. I think its drawn on "i need people to know im better than other people with arbitrary criteria ive decided". And if you can accept the latter i dont care about your opinion on the former. Very simple.

[smartpickshops-blog]

Smart Shopping: How to Save More and Buy BetterShopping is an essential part of life, but how often do we stop to think about whether we're making the smartest choices? Whether you’re shopping for groceries, clothes, gadgets, or home essentials, adopting a smart shopping strategy can save you time, money, and effort. In this blog, we’ll explore some essential tips and tricks to help you become a savvy shopper.1. Set a Budget and Stick to ItOne of the biggest mistakes shoppers make is overspending. Before heading out or browsing online, decide on a budget for your shopping trip. Use apps or simple lists to track your expenses and ensure you don’t exceed your limit.2. Plan Your PurchasesImpulse buying is a wallet-drainer. Make a shopping list and prioritize what you actually need. This is especially important for grocery shopping and big-ticket items like electronics. If it’s not on your list, reconsider whether you really need it.3. Take Advantage of Discounts and CouponsWho doesn’t love a good deal? Keep an eye out for sales, promotional discounts, and cashback offers. Many brands offer discount codes and coupons online, and loyalty programs can help you save even more over time.4. Compare Prices Before BuyingBefore making a purchase, compare prices from different stores or online platforms. Several price comparison tools and browser extensions can help you find the best deal, ensuring you never overpay for an item.5. Buy Quality Over QuantitySometimes, the cheapest option isn’t the best choice. Investing in high-quality products can save you money in the long run by reducing the need for frequent replacements. Always check reviews, warranties, and materials before buying.6. Shop at the Right TimeTiming your purchases can make a huge difference. Certain times of the year, like Black Friday, end-of-season sales, and holiday promotions, offer major discounts. If an item isn’t urgent, wait for a better deal.7. Utilize Cashback and Reward ProgramsMany credit cards, banks, and online platforms offer cashback and rewards for purchases. Consider signing up for these programs to get additional benefits while shopping.8. Be Mindful of Marketing TrapsRetailers use psychological tricks to make you spend more, from “limited time offers” to flashy displays. Be aware of these tactics and shop with a clear mind to avoid unnecessary purchases.9. Read Reviews and Research ProductsNever buy a product just because it looks good. Read customer reviews, watch unboxing videos, and research product specifications to ensure you’re making a wise decision.10. Consider Second-Hand or Refurbished OptionsFor certain products like electronics, furniture, and fashion, buying second-hand or refurbished items can be a great way to save money while still getting quality products. Many reputable sellers offer warranties on refurbished goods.Final ThoughtsSmart shopping isn’t just about saving money—it’s about making informed decisions, avoiding wasteful spending, and getting the best value for your hard-earned cash. By following these tips, you’ll develop better shopping habits and make more satisfying purchases every time.What are your favorite smart shopping strategies? Share them in the comments below! to more updates visit my page

[avirael]

Divided We Fall

“He cannot just give up!”, the young Elezen’s voice echoed louder than intended. It sounded especially loud in the empty rooms of Fortemps Manor — a disturbance in the silent veil of grief that had covered this house and everybody in it.

A part of Rael understood Alphinaud’s frustration. They neither wanted to accept that this was how it was going to end.

But A’viloh had left Ishgard without another word and if Rael was honest they could all be glad that it hadn’t ended far worse.

If they liked it or not, this was how it was going to be now. Simply because they all had failed to see it sooner.

Because above all else Rael had failed to see it sooner. There would not even have been any magical foresight necessary to guess that this wasn’t going to end well.

Had they chosen to ignore that A’viloh was still struggling? Hoped that he would hold on just a bit longer? Or had they failed to see that encouraging him to be a part of all of this had been a selfish, silly mistake from the very beginning?

Either way, they all had asked too much of him. The damage was already done. It didn’t matter if they had done so knowingly or not.

Not just Rael or Alphinaud, it had been all of them. Minfilia, the rest of the scions, even the Eorzean Alliance. They all had asked more and more of him, always something else, never enough. Treated him more like a tool than a friend. A little toy soldier they could throw at their problems. And A’viloh of course had jumped at every of their words, so willing to prove himself useful, so desperate to have a place where he belonged and people who needed him.

What horrible friends they all had been.

“That’s not what he is doing…”

Giving up was not part of Rael’s nature and while it might look to some that this was what A’viloh was doing, Rael knew better. He had been this close to just giving up, yes, but in the end he hadn’t. Instead he had decided to get as far away as possible from everything that caused him pain and maybe this had been the healthiest choice he could have made in that moment.

But Rael did not want to burden Alphinaud with the knowledge of how far they had almost driven their friend. The boy blamed himself for enough already.

“He’s not giving up. Please don’t blame him, Alphinaud. After everything, loosing Haurchefant was just too much for him. He simply needs some time.”

Rael did not believe either of these things, neither was this only about Haurchefant, nor did they expect A’viloh to return, now that he knew the truth and saw all his fears confirmed that he never belonged here at all.

But to someone who didn’t know the Miqo’te that well, just like Alphinaud, it must have looked that simple. The young Elezen sighed and nodded, buying the tale of a tragic romance and a broken heart, when in reality it was much more complicated than this. Alphinaud was smart but he was also a bit naive sometimes.

And Tataru, usually much more clever and attentive than it seemed, was far too distracted by the rumours of this doomed love story as well to question this obvious explanation further.

But this truth wasn’t Rael‘s to tell and no one but A’viloh could decide how much he wanted them to know.

***

Stubbornly Alphinaud marched on. Like he had to fill the hole A’viloh’s absence had left all by himself. A task way too big, considering that not even the Miqo’te had measured up to all the expectations.

Rael admired how fiercely the young Elezen tried to be better than he had before. Learn from his mistakes and grow with the challenges ahead of him. He was too proud to just give up, wanted to make everything right, because he believed that he could. Wanted to bring justice to Thordan and his henchmen and end this neverending war.

As if one single young Elezen would be able to.

He was so brave and naive at the same time.

Rael would need to keep a better eye on him than they had on A’viloh.

On Aymeric‘s behalf they had decided to follow Thordan and try to stop his mad plans. The Lord Commander had recovered quickly from his imprisonment, though not all the wounds were healed yet, not to speak of the betrayal and loss that would likely take much longer to heal still.

With the city in turmoil it was impossible for Aymeric to hunt for Thordan himself and so he had asked the Scions for help. Or rather what remained of them, now that A’viloh was gone too.

Neither could they count on Estinien this time. On Aymeric‘s request he wanted to stay in Ishgard and defend the city against the dragons in case they decide to attack again. He claimed it was his duty as Azure Dragoon, but Rael could still see the rage in his eyes. Apparently revenge on Nidhogg hadn’t been enough to still his thirst for fighting.

And so it had just been the two of them accompanied by Cid, Biggs and Wedge who had traveled to the Sea of Clouds once more, trying to find a clue to where Thordan had fled after his airship had vanished eastwards of Ishgard.

But they had been oblivious to the thread that had followed them there. It wasn’t the local Vanu Vanu, who turned out to be a lot more peaceful than their brethren they had met before. It was not even Thordan and the Heaven’s Ward. To Rael’s surprise and also annoyance the Garlean Empire had sent soldiers to search for Thordan too. Or more likely the place he sought and the Allagan secrets hidden there.

And as if this didn’t complicate things enough, there also was a primal of course. The giant flying whale they had already glimpsed at during their first visit here — Bismarck. Unfortunately the creature was not only eating one island after the other in the friendly Vanu’s territory, no it had apparently also swallowed the Key to Azys Lla, the mysterious place Thordan hoped to find in search for more power.

With the help of Alphinaud’s and Cid’s creativity Rael had been able to defeat the primal on their own but then Thordan had appeared, accompanied by an Ascian. Exhausted and alone the Viera was no match against such a foe. Maybe if A’viloh had been here… but like this they had easily been overpowered and the hard-won key stolen.

***

Defeated they returned to the Vanu village, already planning to chase Thordan and stop his plans, when another problem appeared. In their absense the imperials had invaded the Vanu village. Emperor Varis himself was leading his troops and determined to put a final solution to the primal problem by killing all the beast tribes who could possibly do a summoning.

Bravely Alphinaud spoke his mind, standing between the Vanu and dozens of guns pointed at them, but the imperials had always been merciless.

Just in time, as a salve of bullets rained down on them, Rael managed to pull up a protective barrier around them and the flock of Vanu Vanu. It worked, for now. But exhausted as Rael was from the previous fights, they wouldn’t be able to maintain the barrier for very long.

They felt the aether weaken with every bullet striking the bubble around them and with gritted teeth Rael tried not to let any holes in their defence open up. Struggling they sank down on one knee. They would keep this protection up for as long as they could, even if it was hopeless.

Desperate Alphinaud tried to support Rael, trying to find another solution. Rael could see it on his face, the unwillingness to give up, but also the fear that there would be no way to save them.

Rael wanted to reassure him but all they managed under all of this pressure was a stubborn growl. Nonetheless the corners of their vision started to blur, the limits of their power more than reached.

Then an explosion rang through the air. But it wasn’t the imperials and their weapons trying to tear down Rael’s barrier.

Instead the soldiers tried to ran to safety or were thrown around caught up in the blasts striking the ground were they stood. Confused and surprised all eyes turned upwards to the cause of the attack.

Swooping down from the sky on Magitek Armors, a white one and a black one with a familiar yellow symbol painted onto its side, came not only Lucia but to Rael’s surprise also a familiar red-haired Miqo’te.

“Aviloh?!”, Rael gasped and couldn’t believe their eyes. “What are you doing here?”

The Miqo’te jumped down from the Magitek Armor and helped Rael back to their feet.

“You really thought I would run and hide, and leave my friends in danger, huh?”

Shocked Rael stared at him.

Friends? All the times they had failed him and he still considered them friends?

Rael had misjudged him so much.

“I am so sorry, A’vi. Thank you for saving us…”

***

Before.

As the Lord Commander looked up from his reports and recognized the guest one of the guards had announced, a surprised expression appeared on his face.

“Greetings, Lord Commander.”, a red-haired Miqo’te said as he hesitantly stepped into the office.

“Master A’viloh? Please, come in.”, Aymeric said with a polite smile and waited for his guest to close the door and step closer. “Though I have to admit I am surprised to see you. Your friends said you returned to Ul’dah. I had not expected to see you back this soon. Not after what happened.”

Sadness crept onto A’viloh’s face as he turned his gaze to the ground.

“I am sorry.”, Aymeric excused himself. “I should not have mentioned it. I know you and Haurchefant were close…”

Surprised the Miqo’te looked up.

“It‘s not—… I mean, of course… but…”

It was complicated and there was no short way to explain it. The Lord Commander seemed to understand anyway what A’viloh was trying to say.

“It‘s alright. Haurchefant and I were good friends too. Familiar fates you might say… To witness what happened to him hurt me badly too. It is a grave loss for all of us.”

Yes, A’viloh knew that there were many people to whom Haurchefant had been dear.

But none of them had been the reason he had died.

Guilty A’viloh let his head sink again.

“I am so sorry for what happened…”

“Sorry?”, Aymeric tilted his head a little. “Please don’t blame yourself for what happened. After all it wasn’t you who killed him. It happened on Thordan‘s order. My father’s order. So in a way I am more to blame than you for letting it get this far.”

A’viloh furrowed his brows and shook his head.

“You are not to blame for your father’s actions.”

The Elezen nodded slightly.

“But neither are you. Besides, Haurchefant would not have wanted either of us to blame ourselves.”

Attentive A’viloh’s ears shot up as if he just remembered something very important.

“You’re right! I need to find Rael and Alphinaud! Artoirel said they left to search for Thordan, which means they are in danger. Just the two of them against Thordan and the whole Heavens Ward…”

For a second it looked like A’viloh was about to turn sad again but then he clenched his hand to fists and stood straight. “I have to help my friends! Just like Haurchefant would have!”

Surprised Aymeric observed the change in his demeanour before he nodded and smiled.

“You are right. All of us would do good to try and be a bit more like him…”