#and a huge red flag upon her head now

[corpsebasil]

Nikolai Lantsov and his crew had sailed and plotted for days now.

The island in the distance was gigantic—more than huge—and it was terrifying, if anything.

"Well, that's not foreboding." He chuckled, leaning his arm against the side of the ship.

It was the Sea Whip that they tracked—had tracked—for days. Days in which the daily meals of eggs and pickles were beginning to make him want to tear his own hair out. The prince stared out at the island with intense curiosity, eyeing the steep mountains covered in greenery and as is any sailor's biggest annoyance, cloaked in a thunderstorm.

"Look," Tolya, his close friend and crewmember said, pointing out into the distance. There, docked at the edge of the island, was a ship. A ship grander than anything Nikolai had ever seen, and its flag, red, white, and blue, bore a symbol he had never seen before in his entire life. "where do you suppose that's from? Is it wrecked?"

"No." Mal, the tracker boy that followed the Sun Summoner around like a puppy, argued. "It's docked. Sails are lowered and it looks to be in perfect condition."

"I'm not really in the fighting mood today." Nikolai mused, casting those brilliant blue eyes over to Alina. "But hey. If whoever these fools are have already gotten your beloved amplifier, it saves us a lot of trouble, don't you think?"

Alina grimaced, her dark eyes locked onto the ship in the distance. She gave Nikolai a weighted glance that could mean anything before whispering something indistinct into her tracker friend's ear. Mal nodded, dark eyes morose, before looking back to Nikolai.

"We're willing to fight for it, if that's what you're suggesting." Mal offered, shrugging one broad shoulder before letting it fall.

A grin pulled at Nikolai's gorgeous mouth, and he slapped the boy on the shoulder.

"That's what I'm talking about." He said, looking back to the island. "Steal it, kill for it, it doesn't matter to me. But we're going to be the ones with the amplifier, not whoever these.... pirates are."

Alina snorted, eyeing the prince with an amused look on her face.

"Says you."

"I am a privateer, Miss Starkov. A privateer."

"Tomato, tomato." She beamed, and the mocking 'ah' in the second word made him roll his eyes.

After confirmation from Mal that it seemed safe enough to land, the prince instructed them to land upon the island, and they sailed closer to the beach. When his boots touched the shore, Nikolai stared up at the ship they had docked next to, admiring its smooth wooden sides and huge, white sails. It seemed to be abandoned, no sign of any occupants in sight. But Mal insisted he could sense the prescence of the amplifier and, with grim determination, they strode away, promising to commandeer the vessel once night fell.

"No use in sleeping outside." Nikolai said, eyeing Mal with distaste when he noticed the boy attempting to start gathering kindling for a fire. What was he, an idiot? "This isn't Wendy and the lost boys."

"Shouldn't we just...ask them for it?" Alina suggested, pointing at the ship. "Maybe they're nice."

"Or," Nikolai countered, smiling sweetly. "maybe they'll cut our heads off and sell you to the highest bidder." He rolled his eyes at her. "I'd like to keep my head, if you don't mind. It's a rather lovely one."

Alina grumbled something under her breath but the prince was already headed back to his ship, considering the dinner options for that evening. Pickles, eggs...and rum. A whole lot of rum.

***

When a loud peal of laughter echoed in through the open window of his cabin, Nikolai sat up from where he'd been resting in bed, reading a novel suggested to him by a girl he'd met weeks before. It involved a cowboy, a young maiden, and lots and lots of—

"STOP!" A voice came again, unmistakably Alina, and Nikolai shot out of his bed. He pulled a white shirt over his head quickly, his compass clacking against his chest, and headed out the door.

The sight on his deck made him almost lose his mind.

Alina and Mal, Tolya,Tamar, and two strangers he'd never seen before sat in a circle on the deck of his ship—his ship—drinking and laughing as the stranger on the right mimed along to some ridiculous story. His friends were drinking and storytelling and no one had bothered to come get him?

"Who in the hell are you?" He demanded, glaring hard at Alina, who's smile was so wide and lazy he was sure she had to have been on something.

"Sturm—" She let out a wheezing cough before passing the pipe—the pipe—in her hand across the circle to Tolya. "This is umm...Harry and..Wesley?"

"Winston." The man who had been telling the story corrected lightly, and all Nikolai could do was stare because...because... "The captain, are you? Lovely piece of wood, this is."

"I'm Harry." The other man said, smiling widely. Smiling drunkenly, and by his behavior, his appearance seemed not to be anything out of the ordinary for him.

He and Winston, both clad in finely tailored suits and coats, wore giant, white wigs, and the oddest makeup Nikolai had ever seen before in his life. White makeup, their faces painted so pale as to be almost clownish, spots of rouge on their cheeks, and a strangely bright lip color...they looked insane.

"You—" Nikolai exchanged a horrified glance with Mal, who seemed to be the only one not partaking in the revelry. He sat next to Winston but a bit back, as if scared the man was going to bite him. "What are you wearing? Where are you from?"

"England." Harry said, as if it was obvious.

"Glorious country." Winston added.

"God save the queen."

"England?" Nikolai's head was spinning with confusion. "Where is..."

"Oh, come on Sturmhond." Alina whined, picking up the bottle closest to her and extending it to him. He took a few careful steps forward and snatched it from her, taking a swig. Then he gagged.

"What is this?" He demanded, staring at the two men.

"Gin." Winston informed him.

"Very good with lemon." Harry added.

"And star anise."

"And what—" he pointed at the pipe Tamar inhaled from. The smoke that she exhaled was definitely not tobacco. "—is that?"

"Don't be a party pooper." Alina sighed, reaching out to tug childishly on his pant leg. Saints she was high as a cloud. "I thought you were the fun one?"

"I am the fun one, damn you."

He moved to turn away, likely to go brood in his room with the new bottle of gin he'd acquired and read his filthy novel, but the figure behind him made him freeze in place. His fingers almost sent the bottle crashing to the deck. He could only stare as the woman, clad in one of tightest, most scandalous dresses he'd ever viewed, reached out and took the gin from him.

"Thanks." She said, holding his stare when she took a long, unflinching sip from the bottle. Her eyes were green as emeralds and her face bore the same makeup as her companions, but on her...on her it seemed somehow dignified. "I'm Victoria. I see you've met my brothers."

Her accent. Her voice was...

"Hello?" She asked, snapping two fingers an inch from his nose. "Lights on up there? Too much opium, huh?"

"I'm uh—" he glanced behind him, making eye contact with an amused looking Tolya. "Sturmhond. Captain of this very fine ship."

"Weird name." She commented, taking another sip. "I like you. See you later." Those beautiful eyes held his for another beat before she pushed the gin back into his grip and sauntered to his crew.

He felt very, very weird, and couldn't remember the last time he'd been truly flustered by a woman.

Do to the severe lack of Nikolai content I've been forced to take matters into my own hands

Preview of my newest fanfiction on wattpad!! Go read Tea and Spices by miashcaluke

[floororangejuice]

BION Information master post!! (abibaz oc)

real image of me after making all of this or something

hit the read more to get blasted with everything or something

HEADS UP!! THINGS WILL BE PURPOSFULLY LEFT OUT OF SOME INFORMATION!

I want people to find some things out through hints and clues hidden in art, so there may be a big chunk missing! Also, his story isn't FULLY finished yet too, so there will be a lot more to come. This post will (if I remember to) be updated along with any major art/information I make about him! (FEEL FREE TO ASK ME ANY QUESTIONS TOO!)

BASIC NEED-TO-KNOW INFO

Bion and Bryne are the same person. Bryne is the person/version of himself when he was alive, and Bion is the spirit that remains after death.

I just wanted to clarify this as this can be something that is easily mistaken if you see me draw them at different times/in different posts, sense at first look they can seem like completely different characters.

In my interp of abibaz, it takes place somewhere in the 90's, so that is also where his story takes place.

BASIC LORE (quick/low effort summary)

Bryne is a poor-ish guy living on his own and looking for a job and in some way ends up applying as an IT guy for the school. He applies for this job because it somewhat relates to his huge interest in computers, and he is already desperate enough for any job so this place seems perfect for him so far.

Upon entering the school for the first time, he can immediately tell something is off. He cant place his finger on exactly what it is but it does raise some red flags for him. Even so, he continues on for his interview and gets hired yadda yadda I dont really know how to explain that part and its not important.

Though, adding to his suspicions about this place, he has to meet and be around Alex now. I dont know how to word it in a good way, but basically he thinks Alex is a massive freak.

As time goes on, he gets more and more curious about what is happening in the school. Kids keep going missing, if there is any at all, and the place constantly smells like iron and rot. Bryne tries to research about the school online, trying to find any documents or reports about the school, like possible crimes that happened or any leads on the disappearances, but keeps coming up empty-handed.

This leads Bryne into a spiral, he keeps trying and trying to find information, it just seems right out of his reach. He spends most of his time at work in his own classroom, in the back with his personal computer most of the time because of this. That computer is like a sort of personal companion to him now, with how much time he has spent there alone with it.

Alex is aware of Bryne's researching, and after a while started to have his own fun with him. Setting up red herrings and letting information slip as a way to reel Bryne back into a game he almost had set up from the start.

Anyways, as time goes on Alex starts to get bored of this, and decides one night to finally get some real enjoyment out of this.

He was ready. The clock seemed to tick exceptionally slow that day, there was nothing different about that day from the rest, all but that usual feeling of dread seeming to hang heavier on Bryne's shoulders.

Alex slinked into his room, looming over him just watching him before making his presence known. He just started talking to Bryne, placing a hand on his shoulder and getting close to his level. Bryne could sense that something was wrong with this little meeting of his, though he did this type of thing this one felt wrong.

Bryne started to head out of his room and to the exit doors, hurrying his pace as he got further away from his room. Though when he finally reached the exit, he found the doors to be locked. No matter how much he tried he couldn't get them undone. He was now stuck here, unsure as to why. He started to panic, Bryne had always been weary of Alex, and now his suspicions have been proven. He was stuck there with a monster.

Now, I dont feel like I have the capability or patience to write the whole next segment, but to quickly summarize it: Bryne gets fucking hunted and chased through the school, becoming exhausted and more panicked over time and ends up heading back to his room, then Alex corners him there and kills him by giving him so much blunt force trauma to the face through smashing his face into a computer screen. yay!

I will probably try and write it out better at a later date when I have it more clearly thought out and have the energy to

anyways, here is a quick demonstration of what that looked like:

really good mock-up i know right

Anyways, after this there is a week period(important) of time where he is dead, his body rotting away, semi-untouched. Bion apears within one of the computers as, well, him, and has to re-learn what it feels like to exist again along with his newfound unstable emotions and overall physical form.

He now has a hatred for Alex that burns brighter than the sun, and in simple terms is extremely violent over even the mention of him.

I'll add more onto Bion's way of processing thought and emotion later, but it is a pretty key part in everything he does. He is extremely impulsive.

MORE ON BION

Bion is a massive recluse, hiding away in his computer most of the time, rarely ever coming out. The computer is his safe space, leaving it even voluntarily causes him to get horribly stressed. The only times he ever fully leaves is when he is driven by an extreme emotion. (usually anger)

Touching him is most times lethal, he is electrically charge. Holding onto him or touching him in general causes a feeling of numbness after a period of time, intensity varying on his emotion and the time touching him. (it feels like when one of your limbs falls asleep, but a bit more painfull)

GAME MECHANIC

If Bion was ever added in game, or if I felt like ever attempting to mass mod the game, his mechanic would be to locate Alex.

He would be a (mostly) neutral character, helping the player by showing where in the map Alex is with a pop-up map. It would only be accessible in his room. Along with this Alex would be unable to enter the room at all, but he could just camp at the door and completely trap you, so it would be wiser to be quick while in Bion's room.

Bion's room is also located in a semi-inconvenient spot, near the end of a very long corridor with the only exit down that hallway being one of the rooms with a red key required door. (I'll add a map of where his room is later)

He also has the chance of being a hostile character too. If you provoke him with enough questions about himself, his past, speak of Alex, or bring a special item to him. Any of these will result in him killing you instantly, or becoming one of the hostile character that chase you in the game from that point on.

I also have an idea with him for an Easter egg ending that is related to his lore, but i have to do some more developing on it before I explain it to the public.

EMOTIONS (?)

Because he is a spirit now, his reactions and emotions are alot more raw and intense, causing him to lash out often or go into violent spirals. He is his greatest enemy. (other than Alex)

His most common emotion that happens is rage, appearing whenever his mind starts going down a path of thoughts about how he was wronged, and the monster that he was wrongfully made into.

His rage and his fear of new things causes him to become more of a recluse than he already was. He cant even go out of his classroom without being reminded of how he was made into such a beast.

Bion can still feel and react like a normal person, and is still somewhat the same man he was. Whither that is good or bad is for you to decide.

The way he comes off when not in any fit of emotions is more flat and mechanical, being inside machinery for so long has changed the way he talks a bit, becoming more formal and thought out.

ART + MORE

Here are my Toyhouse pages for both Bryne and Bion where you can find most if not all of their art, which includes lore art.

(lore art will be specified in the bio of the images, and you can usually tell because there is more effort in the details)

BION

BRYNE

ALSO, Bion has a twitter account! its mostly fun silly stuff, but occasionally there will be lore related posts!

@B10NSC0MPUT3R <- link to his account!!!

btw this is going to be updated with more soon!!!!! im probably going to add some facts + more clarifications later!

[fallen-gravity]

Who's the dorky boi in your profile pic, and where's he from?

THIS LIL GOOBER?? THIS IS MY SON AND I LOVE HIM MORE THAN LIFE ITSELF

His name is Oliver Chen (but he goes by Ollie in canon) and he was introduced in the first episode of season two of The Ghost and Molly McGee. The very same Ollie Chen from the Ollie Chen Defense Squad of my blog title because this poor dork is overhated by a chunk of the fandom because upon being introduced Molly develops a crush on him and he became the token "male character that destroys my precious wlw ship >:("

But the thing that people are missing is that Molly's immediate infatuation with him is what drives a lot of his story forward!! He and Molly are practically two signs of the same coin except for the single glaringly red flag that his family hunts ghosts. and that's a huge problem for Molly because her best friend is a ghost!!! But she also really likes Ollie, and Ollie really likes her, and because Molly wants to see the good in everyone, instead of turning Ollie away, she wants to help him come to a better understanding of how ghosts really are.

His arc really starts getting meaty once he meets Scratch (Molly's ghost friend, if you're unfamiliar) and realizes that things aren't the way he's been taught his entire life. 'Cause now he doesn't want to be a ghost hunter anymore cause he realizes he's hurting innocent people, but he can't exactly stop cold turkey because he's only 13 and his parents and younger sister are gonna start noticing he's acting really suspicious. So he feels wedged in-between these two worlds, the one he's known his entire life with his genuinely kind and loving family, and the life that Molly's suddenly opened his eyes to, where he knows if he keeps going he'll just end up hurting more people than people he's helping.

He feels entirely isolated, like he doesn't belong with his family or in Molly's friend group, despite the fact that he's welcomed with loving open arms to both groups (with the exception of Scratch still holding a grude against him for his ghost hunting past, but even then he's not like, actively trying to hurt Ollie more than he is just being a sourpuss and complaining about his presence).

He's a prime example of a character who's done awful things suddenly being forced to face the consequences of his actions all at once, and he's only thirteen. The only reason he ever did any of those things is because of how he was raised. He never wanted to hurt anybody, and now he's trapped in a place where he may have to force himself to continue hurting people lest his parents figure out that he's friends with someone who has a ghost in her family.

He breaks my heart. His entire world was just completely shattered and turned on his head, and while he's not doing a very great job at coping with it now, he still tries to be his sweet dorky optimistic self. He has my entire heart. I just want him to be happy.

[nomoreusername]

The Plan (Part 2)

Pairing:Aris x female reader

Summary: Despite what he knows Aris is conflicted on how to truly let you go.

I can't believe it. I don't want to believe it. I don't want to believe that Y/N could do that to me.

She had told me herself though. I was nothing more than a plan.

It was depressing really. Now that I look back on it, it's so obvious that she hadn't just grown feelings for me. The change in attitude from a few girls, the way we always ended up as alone as you could get, and how she seemed so interested in everything I said, should have been a huge red flag, but no. Instead, I just decided that she actually felt something for me. I thought that she actually was different and would get to know me and who I am, my morals and beliefs, the things I like and don't, before deciding whether or not I deserve to die. I thought that I had actually meant something to her. I thought she cared about me.

She says she does now, but I don't believe her. I can't. Even if I did, what next? We just move on from the fact that she was just as bad as basically everyone else?

Actually, no. She's worse. I had fallen so deeply in love, and she used that to her advantage.

She's not just cold.

She's heartless.

The fact that I know all of this and am still carrying her back to her tent is pathetic. I could easily wake her up so she wouldn't die of frostbite. Instead, I had her in my arms, curled up to my chest.

I have never hated snow so much before. Not until it meant her needing to be near me.

Of course, that's sort of an excuse. Like I said earlier. I could just wake her. I didn't have to carry her bridal style to her place.

I was though, and I have never felt like more of an idiot doing something good. At least when I was with her I didn't know she was a master manipulator. Now that I did, with me still caring, the pain’s probably on me now.

It actually all is. I blindly loved her and didn’t spot what she was thinking when she acted like she did.

It kills me even more that the very first time she said those three words was after I found out our entire relationship was built upon lies.

But whatever. I’ll just keep holding her until I can't. It's all fine. Everything is fine. I’m fine.

As I approached her already opened tent I felt tears pour down my face. Ignoring them, I ducked my head and entered the place I had spent so much time in.

Holding my breath, I tucked her into her sleeping bag, making sure she was on her side the way she always slept. With her tears shining like dying stars through the dark, she was almost blinding to look out. There were too many things to take in. Too many small details and unwanted, maybe real, emotions.

Looking at my feet to avoid those, I spotted a small paper. Picking it up, I saw my handwriting.

A letter.

A stupid love letter I had given her a few nights ago.

Picking it up, I crumpled it into a ball before throwing it on the ground. Glaring at it, I pretended it was her through my blurry vision. Wiping more tears with the back of my hand I actually gave her a cold look before saying one last thing.

“It's not like it meant anything to you anyway,��I spat. Stepping over it on the way out, I zipped her tent and stormed to mine, of course being just a little further away than everyone else's.

Because screw me, right? Because I definitely asked to be here? Because I definitely didn't spend my first month here sobbing my eyes out every chance I got because of how alone I was?

At least when they were all adjusting to their home and wondering how they got here, if they did something wrong, if they were being punished, if they were meant for something, or if they were dangerous, they had each other. They could just ask for help from someone. And what did I get? People talking about whether or not to send me to die, right in front of me.

I hate this place! I hate all of them! I hate her! I especially hate her!

Without bothering to close it, I fell on the floor of my tent and sobbed like it was the first night all over again.

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

“But he was my boyfriend!” Sobbed the pretty blonde girl. Marcus Smith, the lawyer for the late Hisashi Midoriya, felt like coughing as he took in the sobbing form of Martha Simpson. A young girl, barely twenty-five, who’d been dating the fifteen year older Hisashi for the past four years.

That was a blaring sign if he ever saw one, yet no one else had apparently batted an eye. Ever.

“And you were not named in his will,” Marcus told her as gently as he could.

“He said I was!” Martha borderline screamed. The customers of the diner they were in gave her sympathetic looks, launching dirty looks at Marcus. The woman next to Martha, a tall and buff darker skinned woman dressed in a sherif uniform looked pained and a little disturbed.

“Martha, please tone it down,” Sheriff Mackenzie Hunt said as she covered an ear. “Look, I know you thought he was a good guy-“

“He was!” Martha instantly yelled. “He was here to care for his dying mother and he had a great job as a Quirk analyst!!” She glared at the sheriff.

Perhaps one person had seen the red flags then.

“Martha, I along with several others have enhanced hearing.” Hunt said, scolding the girl. She pouted at that, tears still rolling down her face. “Now, Mr. Smith here says that you’re not in the will. I’m inclined to believe him. If you were you’d have been contacted-“

“Unless he’s LYING-“ Martha began, though slightly quieter. Marcus was pretty sure that Hunt was known to have one of those mythological based Quirks, Werewolf or something like the town doctor basically was a vampire. Given how the man was wincing in his booth where he’d been drinking coffee, her yelling couldn’t be pleasent.

The door opened then, and a green haired Japanese woman stepped in holding a little curly haired boy’s hand.

“Ah, Mrs. Midoriya!” Marcus said upon seeing her. Martha froze, turning slowly as the customers almost froze in the diner. The owner, a grump named Luce had her mouth almost dropped open. “Good to see you. Sorry for the… public meeting.”

“I don’t mind,” Inko Midoriya replied as she walked in, leading her son.

“You can use ther sherrif office next door,” Hunt instantly said. Marcus only felt relief hearing that. He didn’t want to deal with any huge fall out.

Of course Martha spoke up.

“Are you Hisashi’s sister?!” She demanded. Inko looked her right in the eyes, before sighing.

“No I was his wife.” She looked at Martha with sympathy. “You must be his latest girlfriend.”

“I… what?” Martha said. “No, no he wasn’t MARRIED! He was…” Inko pulled out her phone to flicked to a picture, showing it to Martha and Marcus. It was her and Hisashi in wedding attire. “No, no, no…”

“I’m sorry kid,” Inko said very gently. “But it’s true.” Martha simply burst into tears and ran out, followed by a couple of the customers. Friends probably. Inko shook her head. “Damn it Hisashi.”

“Not the first time?” Hunt asked sympathetically.

“No, he was… well I was his first target. The charming twenty-nine year old man had no reason to date me at twenty-one.” Inko shrugged. “We got married and then when I turned 29 I got pregnant. He stopped even pretending not to be seeing others after that, and for the past six years-“

“So he wasn’t thirty?” Interrupted Luce, obviously listening in. Inko scoffed, shaking her head as Hunt groaned. Marcus himself made a face.

What an asshole.

[librosamarillos]

passed down like folk songs

chapter 22: my only one

Maegor Targaryen x OC

Also on Ao3

chapter index

Tags: hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, angst, mature themes, targaryen incest, violence, Maegor is a red flag himself, characters are ooc probably, MINORS DNI

It was a good thing that things were hectic, because Rowan did not want to sit still and dwell on things. Ceryse had asked her to help her prepare for her brothers’ arrival and Visenya had asked her to keep an eye on Aenys while he was preparing for the feast, so Rowan had a lot on her plate for the next fortnight. Focusing, however, became a difficult task. There were many times Maegor tried to find and talk to her, but it seemed like the gods had other plans. Either someone called for him or she had to rush somewhere, something always got in the way and it was eating at her to not be able to just talk to him.

“They’ll occupy two rooms, make sure they’re on the top floor, the best we can offer. The King himself wishes to make a good impression. Please make sure on the day of their arrival that the linens are steamed and pressed, and baths are prepared for them.” she held her notepad in her hands as she spoke to the head of the maids, Donna. She had to make sure Ceryse’s brothers enjoyed their stay as much as possible.

“Breathe, my lady, stop worrying!” Donna laughed lightly, patting her shoulder. “We’ll have everything ready for them when they arrive. Everything will be alright, please stop worrying so much.” she smiled. Donna was an older woman with two daughters of her own, Rowan remembered when she introduced them when she was out running errands in the city. Shilah and Marrah, she recalled, two lovely girls, almost the same age as her. Donna was like a fun coworker, someone Rowan could trust with things, which made her comment even more upsetting. Was she truly that easy to see right through? Did everyone see through her?

“Do I truly look so worried, Donna? I only meant to relay information-” 

“You’re fussing with your hands again, yes you look worried. I know the feast is important, but it’s not a huge one. We can arrange everything, so breathe.” she sent her another sympathetic smile, before she returned to her duties, ordering the chambermaids around.

Rowan sighed. Truly, she was horrible at hiding her feelings, which was dangerous especially now, when she had much to worry about. Firstly, Maegor. After he had stormed off the other day, they hadn’t spoken at all. Between his trips to Harrenhal, the hectic planning of the feast, his duties as hand, her duties in general, they found no time to speak, it was infuriating. Then there was the King. She had hoped that Aenys would not have remembered her the other day, but his memory served him well. She knew that he was close with Ceryse, what if he mentioned it to her? 

She hadn’t told Ceryse about her friendship with Maegor, and it ate at her. If she had learned about it from Aenys it would only raise suspicion and rightfully so. She never wanted to lie, but by not mentioning anything of their shared youth to her, Rowan was a liar. At first, she was just hurt that Ceryse got to marry him, even if she didn’t want to, but then it pushed her into a corner where she now couldn’t bring it up without making an absolute mess out of everything. She hated lying, let alone to one of her closest friends, but what choice did she have? She wished Erin was there. She missed her cousin terribly, and she was the only other person that knew the truth about her and Maegor and also the only one not directly connected to everything thus being the only confidant Rowan had. She wanted to write to her, but she was afraid that someone could read the letters before they arrived. It was too risky, far too risky for a situation so delicate.

It was a tired, late afternoon and the weather was slowly getting warmer. Spring was upon them. Rowan poured Visenya another cup of tea as they both settled on the sofa, taking a well deserved break after hours of planning. She felt that Visenya was deep in thought about something, since she began making small talk. Rowan didn’t ask directly, she replied honestly, and waited for the Dowager Queen to make her intentions clearer.

“So, I heard you and your father had a lovely chat with a certain Lord Tybolt. How did that go?” Ah, there it was. Rowan almost choked on her tea, opting to place the cup down. Visenya cracked a small amused smile, taking a slow sip out of her own cup.

“Lord Lannister was quite injured, he had a hard time walking. He says the maesters hope he will be back to normal in some moons.” she said, smoothing over her dress.

“Mhm, but that’s not what I asked, my girl.” Visenya gave her a knowing smile. “I’m asking if you two have progressed from polite conversation to perhaps one of courtship.” she said more bluntly. Rowan tried not to sigh in disappointment. It was like no matter where she turned, someone would bring up Tybolt and she could not escape it. The man had done nothing wrong, if anything he was doing everything right, it was just that things were feeling so out of Rowan’s control that she couldn’t stop and think properly.

“No, no, your grace. While he has implied courtship, he has not suggested it.” she reluctantly admitted. She was glad that he had not suggested it. Perhaps he sensed her reluctance and was trying not to scare her off and for that she was grateful. She felt so horrible for him, seeing him stumble over with his golden cane, with all his injuries.

“You’re nervous about this. You’re unsure about him.” Visenya spoke up after being silent for a moment. She looked directly at her, with her deep violet eyes studying her closely. It wasn’t a question, she just knew she was right. “I think he could offer you a good life, one that could make you happy.” she said, placing a hand on Rowan’s, a gesture to offer comfort. Rowan wondered if Visenya ever felt nervous about the idea of marriage. Perhaps not, since she had always known who she would be married to, but she seemed very understanding of what Rowan was feeling at that moment.

“In truth, your grace… I don’t know.” Rowan’s voice was soft, as she squeezed Visenya’s hand, gladly accepting the gesture. A life in Casterly Rock could be something nice. She could find beauty and happiness in the day’s routine, her father could visit despite the distance, but she still couldn’t bring herself to make any decision. It was a rare kind of privilege that Rowan had, to have the ability to have a say and even reject such a suitor, whereas anyone else would simply have to accept. She knew she held power over this life changing decision, so she had to act wisely.

“As much as I hate the thought of you being away from me, I don’t want you to stall your life. Tybolt would make a good match for you.” Rowan almost gasped at the sincerity in Visenya’s voice. She never imagined the former Queen to speak so positively of a man, let alone a Lannister, so for him to have earned her approval, it was a big deal.

“Well…” she trailed, wondering if she could admit her avelange of feelings now, but the heavy solar doors opening stopped her.

“Ah, Maegor, I wasn’t expecting you. Come, sit.” Visenya gave him a small smile, gesturing to the empty spot next to her. Maegor seemed relieved to see her there. The air in the room became a bit tense. The two couldn’t really face each other, almost embarrassed at what had happened. 

“Mother, Rowan.” Maegor greeted them and sat where his mother showed him. His eyes went to Visenya, then Rowan, almost too ashamed to face her directly. She missed him so terribly, it killed her to not be able to just jump in his embrace.

“We were discussing the feast, the one in your honour. It’s about time your contributions were celebrated, don’t you think?” Visenya said and took another sip of her tea. Rowan was confused, as the conversation of the feast was over an hour ago. It made sense the more she thought of it, it would be awkward to bring up Tybolt.

“Indeed it is.” Maegor agreed, but seemed distant, whereas he was always the most attentive son. She wondered if his duties as hand were exhausting him, he looked tired, like he had been losing sleep. Gods, she hoped he could rest.

“What’s the matter?” Visenya asked, looking between the two. It was like in that moment, something clicked for her. Like she had suddenly realised the tension in the air, the words not said between them. “Ah, I see. I think you two have some things to talk about. Whatever is causing both of you to sulk, solve it.” she placed her cup on the table after finishing it in one sip and got up. Rowan didn’t have time to ask where she was going, before the former Queen left the room, leaving both her and Maegor in total stunned silence. 

“Rowan, I… I wish to apologise. What I said that day…I never blamed you, never. I’m sorry for saying that, for storming off like that. Please forgive me.” Maegor finally spoke after taking a deep breath. It sounded like he had been holding that in ever since it happened, and Rowan finally managed to look into his eyes. His eyes… She never saw him look this guilty before. It must’ve truly shaken him…

“Maegor, you know I never meant for that to happen.” she spoke up softly, reassuring him of her intentions. She knew that, deep down, Maegor also knew. She hated herself at that moment, truly. If only she could’ve come up with a better lie about the pin so that Tybolt never assumed…

“I know, of course I know.” he said, reaching for her hand, his thumb tracing over her knuckles. His hand felt rough to the touch, rougher than before. He had new scars too, from battle no doubt. It was amazing how much comfort a simple touch of his could bring her.

“You know I forgive you, right?” she asked, looking up at him and placing her other hand on top of his. He sighed at her touch, like he could relax for a moment. She never held a grudge for that fight, she never would. All that mattered to her was that he was here now.

“Oh, Rowan…” he muttered, looking away from her and to the ground. It made her worry, wanting to assure him that she did truly forgive him, but she knew at that moment, Maegor needed a moment to think. The air no longer held the tension it did before, but it wasn’t really light either. “I saw you the other day, talking to the Lannister with your father. Rowan, are you marrying him?” he finally asked, looking like a kicked puppy. It didn’t surprise her that he could’ve seen them that day, but when it was happening, she couldn’t truly think. So she was honest when she replied.

“Maegor… I don’t know. I don’t know what’s happening anymore. It’s like things are happening far too quickly. My father joined me for a walk and then Tybolt came along, it wasn’t something planned. We just chatted, it was nothing serious, but I don’t know.” she frowned. Truly, Tybolt was a good man, but her heart still yearned for the man who sat next to her and held her hands so tenderly.

“Duncan… does your father approve of him? Truly?” he asked, looking concerned. Rowan would’ve lightly teased him, had this been a different scenario, but alas, it was not. Her father went from encouraging and relaxed, to more concerned and serious, now that Tybolt was slowly hinting at a union between their houses.

“He doesn’t seem blown away by him and he remains cautious still. As am I. I’m not… I’m not ready to marry, Maegor, I can’t…” she shook her head, looking away from him for a moment. Gods, never in her life had she imagined she’d be feeling this way about any hypothetical nuptials.

“I still think he’s pathetic. You’re far too good for the likes of him.” he squeezed her hand, his lips turning up to a small smile. Somehow, his mood lightly lifted. For that, Rowan was happy. She let out a small smile in return.

“You’re too mean to him.” she scolded, but not really. She’d be a complete liar if she denied that it made her heart flutter when Maegor acted so protective of her. He warmed her heart. Maegor almost scoffed, looking over at her.

“Why? Did he come crying to you again?” he asked in a teasing tone. He almost got a laugh out of her, had she not held it back for the sake of propriety. Tybolt was a fine young man, and Maegor was far too harsh on him.

“Gods, no. Just from the way you look down at him-”

“I cannot help it that he’s so short, my lady. How can I look at him any way else?” he interrupted, the smile still playful on his lips. For a moment, he and Rowan stared at each other in silence. Both their smiles faded, the lighthearted moment gone, replaced with the reality of everything. Something tormented him, something from deep within. She didn’t want to push, she didn’t want to pry, but gods, she just wanted to help him with whatever had him so troubled these days. Perhaps it was a combination of things, the rebellions, his newfound duties, the upcoming feast, not to mention his two goodbrothers coming to visit.

“Maegor, what’s the matter? You look like you have a million things on your mind.” she asked, her voice soft, her eyes pleading for him to open up to her. She may not be able to do everything to help, but surely he knew she’d try her best.

“It’s nothing for you to worry about.” he sighed, his violet eyes betraying a sadness that hurt her heart to see. What could trouble him so? She furrowed her brows, as if looking closer into his eyes would magically give her the answer. 

“I can tell when you’re lying. You don’t have to do that. You know I care about you, deeply.” she continues, her hands over his, offering him the small and gentle comfort of the shared warmth. She didn’t say love, she couldn’t say it, it would only hurt them both. Maegor looked so full of guilt at that moment, it surprised her, but she did not falter. For a moment, he went to speak, but stopped himself, doubting if it was a good idea to be honest with her with whatever this was. 

“I simply do not wish to burden you.” he shook his head, turning away from her, pulling his hands back as well. Rowan went to protest, to reassure him that surely, things would end well, no matter what troubled him, but it seemed the gods and their timing were on Maegor’s side, as Visenya entered the room in a hurry, a look of slight annoyance on her face. She was only gone for what, ten, fifteen minutes?

“The King is looking for you. He seems like he’s enjoying planning this feast more than anything.” she addressed Maegor, who promptly got up and left, without looking back, as if looking back at her would hurt him. “My dearest, go relax, today was a busy day, was it not? I shall see you tomorrow.”

With Visenya leaving with a small gentle smile, Rowan was left alone in the solar, sitting in hurt confusion, her tea having gone completely cold. 

It was so curious that the Prince had returned so quickly. Alys didn’t know what he was even discussing with her father, who also looked surprised to see him back so soon. It was strange, but hey, it was interesting. Septa Sarah warned her to behave, but gods, she was far too curious. The novelty of moving to a new and bigger castle had worn off and Alys felt like she was going to go crazy with nothing to do. So while the Prince and her father were talking, she snuck out of the castle gates to see him. Balerion was by far the most interesting creature on castle grounds at the moment.

She found the great beast resting in the shallow forest, eyes shut and breathing slow and steady. Alys didn’t dare get too close, she wasn’t stupid, so she kept a safe distance. He looked like a really ugly lizard the size of a mountain, if she were truly honest. Actually, she had seen little Hannah play with lizards that were prettier. On his back, she could see the saddle, it looked regal, it was so interestingly decorated, she assumed in a Valyrian style, as she was not fully familiar with it. It didn’t seem much different than a horse saddle, but it was bigger and more elaborate, fitting perhaps three to four people on it. She squinted her eyes, trying to take a closer look and realised it seemed to be screwed on the dragon’s back. It surprised her, it must’ve hurt to put in place- and who the hell would dare to do that, but she supposed it was better to not slide off while flying in the skies. 

She had bothered Jeyne to tell her what she knew of Balerion, since her nose was always in a book, she might as well be useful. Her sister went on to tell her that the great beast was the last creature alive to see Old Valyria before the doom. He had the name of a Valyrian god, but she wasn’t sure which one. It was on Balerion’s back that Aegon the Conqueror rode to conquer the kingdoms, climbing on the very same ropes hanging off the dragon’s back. She had never seen the King, despite the many progresses he went on, but if she were to trust the rumours, Prince Maegor looked just like him, but was taller and stronger, though people claimed his father was much more handsome. Alys didn’t really find the Prince that attractive. Unsettling and scary-looking were better descriptions in her opinion, but she supposed he could be someone’s cup of tea.

Something made the dragon stir slightly, making Alys jump back. It was quite unbelievable, how much heat the beast was radiating, it was like she could see smoke coming out of his nostrils. How crazy was that? Did fire come out of his nose as well? That would be so weird. Dragons were weird. 

“Magnificent beast, is he not?” a deep voice startled her even more. Alys snapped her head in surprise, turning to face the dragon’s rider himself, the Prince. He looked much scarier up close, his lips etched into a deep frown permanently, he gave off an unnerving aura. He was dressed quite impeccably, an expensive looking doublet over his fine tunic. He was looking at the dragon, who opened his giant red eyes and sighed, as if to acknowledge his presence. 

“Yes, truly he is, my Prince.” she finally spoke, turning to admire the dragon once more. It looked like such a chore to get on the saddle, having to climb up those giant ropes, but it seemed like Prince Maegor was built for it. He looked like he could crush a person with his bare hands without flinching at all. It made her shudder, but her curiosity got the best of her, so she spoke up. “Forgive me, my Prince, but how come you’ve returned so quickly?” she asked, truly not seeing the point of coming back to this boring castle.

“Does my presence displease you?” he asked, his voice laced with annoyance. His eyes freaked her out, she couldn't lie. Purple was a creepy eye colour. He looked at her with a very strange expression, almost bordering disappointment. 

“No- that’s not what I meant at all. If anything, your presence is the most interesting thing to happen to this place. I was just curious as to why you’re back so soon.” she replied, deciding honestly was her best bet with him. Who knew, maybe he’d even tell her what the hell her father had in mind too, but that was not any priority. 

“There was something that caught my interest.” he said, but didn’t seem interested at all. He looked so annoyed at everything and everyone, that’s how Jeyne acted when she had her moonblood. She supposed men had their moods too. “Rather, someone.” he added, now looking right at her, studying her face carefully, the way a maester might inspect a specimen. It was like he was looking, searching for something specific. Alys was shocked, but quickly recovered. It wasn’t the first time a married man made comments about her beauty. She wasn’t sure what to say exactly, but he beat her to it. “What do you want in life, Lady Alys?” he asked, his eyes still searching for something on her face. She paused. Was he offering her to be his mistress or something? She should be offended, truly, but there had to be a reward for such a position, no?

“Something new, something exciting, far away from this place.” she answered honestly, trying to sound confident, like a proper lady, even though she didn’t really feel like one. The Prince nodded slightly, in a way that she would not notice if she wasn’t looking right at him. She wondered if he judged her for wanting to leave her family behind, whereas most women wept at the thought. 

“I can give you just that.” he said, speaking slowly and clearly. His words would come out flirtatious if it were anyone else, but he made it sound more like a business proposal. She didn’t really mind it, in fact, she preferred it that he was so direct about what he wanted. She admired that and hoped she could do the same.

“From what I hear, you’re already a taken man.” she replied in a similar manner to his, gaining some confidence. Maybe it was obvious what he was suggesting, but she wanted to hear it from him. Would it be a huge stain on her family name if she were to become his mattress? Yes, but what was she willing to do to escape this tiny town and the excruciatingly boring and repetitive routine that haunted her everywhere?

“I’m no regular man, I am the blood of the dragon. If you do not recall, my own father had two wives. The laws of men do not shackle the Targaryens.” he said, his voice confident, but something in his eyes letting out disgust at the mention of his father. She supposed complicated relationships with fathers were more common than she thought.

“Is that what you’re suggesting?” she asked, surprised, but not really. The Targaryens were quite weird. Was he feeling left out that he didn’t have a sister to fuck? Or was he bored with his wife after a year already? She knew the Hightowers were a stuffy and serious family, maybe he got tired of her and wanted someone more fun. She eyed him suspiciously. “Why?”

“My lady wife seems to struggle with giving me an heir. That’s all I need from you. I don’t care what you choose to do, as long as you give me an heir or two. In return, you’ll live the life of a princess.” he said, turning his gaze away to his dragon, crossing his hands. He seemed too serious for his own good. She supposed he did like his lady wife after all, but she was lacking in the most important department a woman had. It was appealing, really.

“So that’s all you want from me? A few kids and I’m free to do as I please?” she asked, raising a brow, eyeing his side profile carefully. It was a good deal. She knew one day she’d have to have children, she couldn’t avoid such a gruesome fate, but in this case, she’d go through it once or twice and then have all the money and freedom in the seven kingdoms. Not to mention a completely uninterested husband who’d leave her alone and not bother her at all without need. It was appealing, but it felt too good to be true.

“Exactly.” he replied with a single word. He refused to look back at her, seeming like he was forcing the words out. Perhaps he felt guilty for doing this. Perhaps he loved his lady wife, since this was only out of necessity and not out of some passion or whatever, and this felt like some necessary betrayal for him. 

“It just seems too good to be true.” she stated, turning her gaze to the dragon. It dawned on her that her children would then be dragonriders. Her eyes widened. Is that what he came to discuss with her father? It started to make sense for her now. It would be a huge honour for her house then. 

“There will be pushback from the pious, no doubt. Is that something you’re prepared to deal with?” he asked, turning to face her again. He looked stern, giving her a warning about what she was about to get into. She was never religious, her father never caring to be pious. Septa Sarah would get a heart attack, but that was about it. The only septon in her tiny town was a tired old man, whose voice she could barely make out when he spoke. She scoffed at the thought that a man like that would speak against her, as the wife of a Prince.

“Who cares what those old people think? I certainly do not.” she said proudly, crossing her hands too. He raised a brow at her, and seemed to be holding back some remark he wanted to make. But it was true, why should she care about what some pious lords think when she was to be the wife of a Prince and her children would be dragonriders?

“Good.” he said after some thought. She wondered what he was originally planning to say, but she supposed it was something that he wouldn’t say to a complete stranger. It wasn’t weird to her that this was their first conversation together, most women never meet their husbands until the day of the wedding, so this was more than generous for most. And yes, it would be incredibly strange to be a second wife to someone who is already married, but hey, the freedoms he was offering her were everything she wanted in a man, making it more than enough to make her move past it. A wealthy man who will leave her to do whatever she wanted, yes after she gave him a kid or two, but that was something she’d have to do anyway. And who knew, maybe she’d even like the little babes.

“You know, I never imagined my proposal to be this way.” she admitted, thinking this was a way to break the ice between them. She didn’t mind that he was a man of few words, but since he was making such a generous offer to her, she wouldn't mind getting to know him a little better. Prince Maegor only scoffed.

“You’ll get no romance bullshit from me.” he said, shaking his head. So he was loyal to his lady wife then. Alys only shrugged.

“That’s not what I was looking for. I meant to say that I appreciate how straight forward you’re being.” she said, cracking a charming smile. She could come to appreciate his mannerisms, no matter how scary he looked. Alys looked at him, taking her turn in studying his face. She wondered what he was looking at when he was looking at her. Maybe he was making sure that she was pretty enough? She’d ask him one day, when they were more familiar with each other.

“I’ll give you time to think about this. I’m heading back to King’s Landing and I will return in a fortnight or two. When I return, I’m expecting an answer. If you decide to say no, you’ll speak to no one about this, you understand?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous. She nodded her head quickly, knowing damn well that he earned his brutal reputation. She had no intentions of getting on his bad side.

“Does my father know?” she asked, wanting to confirm her suspicions at the very least. She already knew the answer she wanted to give, but if her father knew, there was probably something important he’d want to discuss with her before she accepted. He’d feel more comfortable talking to her about this proposal with the giant man and dragon away from his new castle.

“Only he does. Keep it that way.” he said simply. He seemed like he was mentally exhausted from the conversation and was eager to leave Harrenhal. She didn’t blame him, she wanted to leave too. “Any more questions?” he asked once she nodded. Alys gazed back at the giant beast that was now slowly raising his head to stretch. She decided to be a little brave.

“Would you take me flying some day?” she asked, almost too eagerly, with wonder in her eyes. While yes, the dragon was ugly and weird looking, no one could deny how amazing it would feel to fly in the skies. She wondered if he also felt that wonder when he was flying, but perhaps it was not that exciting to someone who grew up on dragonback. 

“Sure.” he sighed after a while, as he began to put on his gloves. And with that, with no formal goodbye, he left, climbing the long ropes on the dragon’s back with admirable ease, and shouting something that she did not understand, but the beast clearly did, as he got up slowly with his giant body and after a stretch, he ran and Balerion took to the skies. She gazed up at him in awe, seeing at how quickly this ginormous dragon was becoming smaller and smaller, until he disappeared completely, leaving her with just what she wished for. 

Something new and exciting. 

taglist:@heartstalked@stupidocupido@discowizard88@slytherisstuff

[emmacreatures]

A WARNING

This is a story, of what could possibly be the first interactions/first impressions of Ka'am to Quaritch. Not nessesairy directly, but here we go👁👄👁

Ka'am so happened to hear outsiders go up to the ikrans.. Having heard sightings were confirmed of Navi in cameo gear.. Without much of an approval from jake, not that he ever did at all.. Considering the man was a bit of a rogue.. He ended up finding the men, all together, with a human. "Spider..." Ka'am whispered displeased, letting his ikran land and clinge onto a flying island, away from the men, but he had perfect sight on them. Hiding in the shadows, he overheard them from a distance. in the meantime he prepared his bow and arrow, inhaling as he put it ready to shoot. He inhaled sharp, aiming on the man that wanted to try and trenqualize an ikran.. Not only cheating, but wanting to get an ikran like that, was a red flag. They definitely werent actual na'vi when it came to their minds.. Perhaps their bodies were. But alas..

Ka'am breathed in with a lot of focus, aiming on Quaritch, but noticed due Spider who laughed at him, the man seemed to change his mind to the approach of the ikran. He now was determined to do it the correct way, making Ka'am focus as best as he could, having a perfect aim at him. His fingers almost felt like loosing its grip on the arrow, though as a big surprise, a sudden seed from Eywa softly made its way to Ka'am's arrow.. Resting upon it as he frowned deeply. Out of slight rebellious behavior, he decided to point the arrow at a different man, as to a big surprise, the seed of eywa did not return back in his arrow.. The slight check made Ka'am narrow his eyes before pointing it back at Quaritch, having his bow again in the perfect position, but exactly as he wanted to shoot again.. The seed came back on the arrow.. Almost making Ka'am growl out of frustration before he pulled his arrow back. He never missed aim so far, but this time.. Eywa told him what he should snd shouldnt do. Eywa was always clear with her intentions; and it seemed she did not agree with the kill Ka'am would make. This was the first time Ka'am had this happen to him.. Which made him fold his ears. It was just confusing at this point, but as he instead now watched that leader of their group tame his own ikran, and fall off the cliff while he was at it.. Ka'am raised his head. Ka'am now did assume that Eywa told him she'd take care of it. Which is why he did not have to kill him. But out of a huge surprise, the now bragging man in the air who flew back up out of the clouds, yelling at his crew mates out of being proud he managed, was still alive.. Ka'am got silent. The man rose out of the air, seeing eywa approved of this. Why did eywa stop him from killing this man.. What was the reason. Out of frustration and mere confusion, Ka'am decided to move more into the shadows before the man he tried to kill in the first place would spot him, now that he managed to have his own ikran.

Ka'am's mind was conflicted.. He did want to report to the tribe for he watched the cameo avatars just tame their ikrans one by one.. But as he was still trying to make up his mind, his communication cord with the tribe woke him out of his thoughts. "Ka'am.. Is there anything out there. Are they there.. "A tribe part called for Ka'am watched the whole scenery near him.. Breathing firm out of uncertainty with himself. If eywa convinced him not to kill that one man, how would she react if he'd report that they were here.. Meaning part of his tribe would come and try to kill them as well. A silence would hit him, before frowning but answering. "Nothing in the hallelujah mountains.. I've double checked" He said in na'vi, being freed from his duties of the day now.

"This man has to be a threat, everyone says so.. So why.."he whispered, grabbing his bow tight in a fist.. before putting it away again. He doubted and had the tendency to still shoot, but he didnt want to refuse eywa's word twice, that could be bad karma for him if he'd be disloyal or just not listened to her in general. The signs eywa showed to him werent often, which made him doubt alot at this point. Why now...

watching quaritch land with the ikran and talk to the others, bragging before Ka'am gets the notice he might has to move to stay unseen.. he let his ikran with himself still on it, fall silently backwards, as right after Quaritch would look around and frown at the spot Ka'am used to be, but left right on time. "Hurry up people. You never know whats watching you." the man said like a leader, made this arm movement of 'come on you slugs' before the other avatars would try and obtain their ikran, but not as smooth as he would.

Ka'am secluded himself from the rest after returning back to their base, having so many questions.. Why in the moment that he could've taken him out, would eywa tell him different. This man had bad intentions? right, was he wrong.. before he knew it himself, he decided to go out for night duty out of will.. as his mind wouldnt let it go.

[casitafallz-a]

Decay AU | Finding Decay

Pariah’s steps echoed as she followed the dot on the scanner; a human life-sign in the middle of nowhere and faint didn’t paint a pretty picture, especially this far from their native Encanto. Stray somewhere behind her as she went but she knew that they had to get to this person before they expired. Aid, if possible. Protocols were simple in this situation; aid them back or bring them in. Recruitment would be offered….depending on the context but she was sure this was just a rescue and return than a recruitment drive.

“How far?” Stray called.

“A hundred meters.” Which in all wasn’t too far but in the dense jungle, it was given the mount of trees around that forced them to take new pathways which certainly added to their step-count.

They weren’t even meant to be here for this detour; it was supposed to be a registration of the AU, add it to the map, check against Wanderer’s Quantum signature to see of her family members were in here and then go home if not. But a faint human life-sign outside of Encanto and not moving, it was a red flag so they had to check it out. No one had a good reason to be this far out from Encanto; she knew that first hand.

Sure, she was only 15 months into her own enlistment but she knew that it wouldn’t settle well on her conscience to not see the end to this; to see if they could help the lost soul by one mean or another.

The scanner dot continued to show though her eyes peered through the dense foliage until she could see a settle of large rocks and boulders that looked recently fallen given how a few had a few dirt encrusted sides facing the touches of dawn; the dot appeared to be in the mists of that.

“There.” Nodding towards it with her chin, Pariah headed onwards, circle around first and she saw the opening in the pile; it was the tree that seemed to be a huge support that pulled her attention more; bent from the weight, it still held and seemed to hold back the weight on its centre to it’s edge.

So Pariah entered into the slither of the gap., keeping herself from touching either side; one wrong move would easily unsettle the weight and cause a full collapse that could kill them both in here.  

Under was dim but she activated her shoulder-light that lit upon the un fortunate soul that she recognised in a heartbeat that lay still with a layer of rock dust coating her..

Isabela.

The dress was a dead giveaway but the plant life seemed to have bloomed around her; it was clear to see the girl’s right arm was pinned by the bounder and the tree looked to be supporting the rest of the rocks from her body. But she could see the signs of life; she was able to be saved.

“Isabela?” Pariah swallowed thickly, grasping onto the fact that while this wasn’t her daughter; seeing her like this was bad… how’d she end up here? Why would she leave her mother? Her family?

“What?” Stray peeked in next, his eyes widening in alarm. “We need to get her out!”

“I know!” Pariah sighed. “Set up your lights and get me a medical pack.” She squeezed herself into the gap, changing her scanner for a bio scan.

A broken ankle and a few fractured ribs but that wasn’t the worse of her issues. Her trapped right arm was unsalvageable. The pressure and the corners of the rock had cut off her main circulation to the limb and… deterioration of that limb was built up of now bacteria that has already begun to break down the muscle and ligament and, Pariah realised that may have been for the better; smaller shards had penetrated through the back of her arm, through the muscle and bone but had also sliced through the main artery.

The rocks now acted like a torniquet.

She’d not live if they just removed her form the rock; some that toxic mess would pump back into her body if they released that limb and she’s most certainly bleed out. And the also matter was they had no way to free her either; they weren’t Luisa and couldn’t simply get her either with protocols in place.

They’d have to amputate the limb to save her.

Pariah spared a glance down to her own prostheses; only 7 months into the new arm, she was getting used to it….but would this Isabela want that?

A medical kit was held out before the light was set to properly see the girl; her flesh hand gently prodded the girl’s cheek; the feel of moss welcomed her though it seemed the girl was entirely out to the world.

Not a good sign.

From the pack, she pulled out a bio scanner and fixed it directly onto the back of the girl’s neck, setting it to take live bio scans of her pulse, breath, blood levels and brain activity. Silence lapsed between them before the data began to make sense; her brain waves were steady and spiked systematically like she was dreaming.

“She’s comatose.” Pariah realised, which mean she couldn’t ask for the girl’s permission to do this. Given this looked entirely accidental, it could be something they’d do without but now… they had to do it and hope the girl was relieved at a new lease of life.

“We can’t talk to her?”

“No. Right now she’s surprisingly stable but… sooner or later that limb’s going to rot. If she’s to survive, we have to amputate.”

Stray swallowed thickly, his young face paling a little. “Would she survive that?”

“We have the tools. Tek’s developed a gel cutter, designed for emergency amputation.”

This was after her own arm, of course because why not invest after the fact. Pariah was a little sore about it but she didn’t fault Stay’s momentary act of fear that had ultimately saved her life. Even at the cost of her arm. She’s rather be a limb down than a statue. Gel-cutters were now part of all new medical cases so she found it easily after flipped open the case.

“We need to prep her for it first so her body doesn’t go into shock.” Pariah pulled out a selection of little bottles and needles, rereading the labels and pulled out the hand-guide to make sure she was doing this correctly.

Stray nodded. “You do that. I’ll prep a tent and get the report ready.”

-

Pariah could see the tent prepped and ready; a simple rolled out bed for Isabela when she was free but there was now a sense of relief as she set the gel cutter into place at the top of the girl’s arm, an inch from her shoulder, where there was no crushed bone but at the border of a break; an point that may make a new arm  installation easier

The Gel-cutter was a dual metallic ring that was two inches wide that would slip around the limb and adapt to fit. Once on and activated, it’d used a energy-based blade to sever through the skin, muscle and eventually into bone before the gel inside activated to act as a tourniquet; sterilising the area from the outside world and keeping the blood inside. The gel’s outer side would harden and attach to the metal rim and the gel itself was also a painkiller among other things, keeping the cut nerves numb directly and the wound fresh for proper surgery at the Watcher Casita and for metal rod installation for prostheses

Rudimentary but it worked in an emergency situation, as it was over and done with in ten seconds. In the case of an already amputated limb, it could fit on the end of a stump and activate from there with just the gel-setting.

In case this Isabela woke for some reason or another, Pariah kept her under anaesthetic nonetheless before she activated the cutter. Last thing she wanted to do was traumatise the girl hallway through. Her eyes stayed to the readings as the ring clicked into place, gripping into the skin like a stable and the second internal ring moved with light.

It only took about ten seconds from activation before the ring flashed and gel began to form and the strain of the girl’s body dropped from it’s position. Pariah pulled the newly amputated sump away, allowing the gel to buff out though the red on the inside was unmistakeable but the gel did it’s job.

There was warmth from blood from the other half but Pariah tried not to think on that as she heaved the girl from under the rock.

Isabela’s weight was a lot but with her prostheses and leg, it was easy to keep going and as soon as she got out of the rock’s tight walls, Stray grabbed the girl’s leg and between them, lay her down onto the roll-out.

Isabela was still out. Her face a little bit more pale and her pulse faster but she wasn’t loosing blood…but she’d need proper medical treatment soon. Now she was out of immediate danger of death, they needed to collect together evidence in their report; that their involvement was necessary and that this girl had no other choice short of death if her choices was not explicitly stated. If not, they’d be heavily punished for contamination and kidnapping from native AU that wasn’t ready for introduction of the Watcher Services.

“So, Isabela… she looks a bit older than expected.” Stray noted, typing fast onto is tablet. Stray took a hold of the bio-scanner readings before imputing a few notes into the report.

“Bio scans put her late 22 years or early 23.” Pariah answered.

It seemed like this world was a post-canonical AU; no news from the main world was quiet but there was that main history people knew and the Watchers kept tight-lipped on what happened following the reconstruction of Casita. Like her own personal history was considered Post-canonical too.  “Relatively healthy…aside from the obvious.” Her brain chemistry was a little off than expected too, imbalanced which did suggest she may have a might higher level of depression than what was canonically expected as well.

Pariah quickly took scans of their immediate area for reference and more of the rock fall and logged it into their report.

“Let’s go.”

-

Isabela felt the world around her gain more meaning as she stirred from the depths of peaceful sleep; drawn back much faster by a low burning sensation through her right arm before the haze of nose assaulted her ears which only seemed to get faster.

“She’s waking up.”

Isabela groaned softy, becoming aware of the light against her eyelids, her head turning away before the light seemed to shift away from it’s intensity.

“Isabela, you’re safe but you’re badly injured.”, The voice was her mothers “I need you to swallow when I press this cup to your lips.”

Hazily, Isabela complied before she felt warm broth seep into her mouth, soothing away the dryness in her throat but the haze in her mind seemed to disappear along with the pain throughout her body though dull aches stil lingered.

Her eyes flickered open, half expecting to find herself in her room with her mother and Abuela standing around, the latter for chiding her for not doubt her injuries but for running away. But… the room she was in was not her bed room. In fact it was entirely unfamiliar.

White walls, the air smelt sterile and there was an array of…machines that were beeping around her. All unfamiliar. This was not Casita. It was a scary realisation and what more was unsettling was the woman attending her bed-side.

The woman standing with the mug; she looked almost exactly like her mother. Kind face and warmth but everything about her screamed not-mother. No familia warmth or touch, not that she had much before but even now, she would have thought her mother would have given her something. But the woman’s hair was much darker; less grey and her attire was consistent of a teal, wrap tunic with a V-neck, two frontal pockets and strangely matching pants that exposed cream boots, attached to her hips was a coloured card. Her hair was pulled back into a familiar bun but… this wasn’t her mother.

“You’re not my Mam.”

“No, I’m not.” The woman agreed. “but I am here to help heal you. Do you know what happened?”

Isabela licked her lips softly, her mind lulling back for a moment. “I…I was trying to get out of Encanto…it was night time.” She hazily recalled. “I… I needed to use my vines to get up over a step part but… I think something went wrong.” It was too hazy to recall the details after that. “I…I don’t remember after that.”

The woman nodded softly. “You were found by two of our workers; they were…exploring the area when they found you under some rocks. It appears that…using your vines upset already lose ground and you triggered a rock slide.”

Isabela frowned intently. “Rock slide?”

“The worse of it was directed off by a creation of thick trees, but a few large bounders… broke the line. You were caught underneath but… it seemed you were able to save yourself with another tree. Now, when you were found, you were trapped under the rubble and pinned.”

Isabela blinked but her eyes dropped from her not-mother to her body; to the lingering aches and the burning but her guts chilled as she realised what she had missed…

“Where’s my arm?!” the beeping around her increased but her mind couldn’t process the fact her arm was gone, she was shirtless, but her top body was wrapped and bandaged up so she could plainly see the stump of where her arm used to be. Her ankle was braced as well and she could feel other supports along her back but… her arm.

“It was amputated on site, the rock that landed on the caused tremendous damage.” The not-mother spoke, her hand coming to her other shoulder, “But they saved you.  Removing your arm was the only way that you could have come out of that alive.”

“I…I need my arm!” She panicked. “My… My gift… I need it!”

“My dear, please, you’re okay and your gift is not lost.”

Isabela shook her head, her body wanting nothing more than to get up… but the woman’s face was oddly soothing, gently holding her into the sheet.

“I know it’s devastating but there are ways we can assist. Right now, your body is still healing. Magic had taken the worst away but I need to monitor and make sure nothing else is missed.”

Isabela sucked in a heavy breath, her eyes filling up with tears. “why?”

“The rock sliced through the main arty, the limb was dead by the time you were found. You would have bled out or suffered septic shock and—“

Isabela shook her head at the details—a problem for future her, “Why am I here? Who are you? Why…why do you look like my mother?!”

The woman sighed deeply. “It’s all a long story and right now, too complicated to explain. I am… another version of your mother, call me Watcher Julieta if you need to call me something.”

“Another version?” That didn’t make any sense. What did that mean?

“It’s complicated. But I promise that we can answer your questions. Right now, you need rest.” The woman raised her hand, reaching for a bag of fluid that Isabela now realised was attached into the back of her left hand. From the mid-point at a port, the woman seemed to slick some sort of needle of fluid into it before her head felt all hazy.

“Sleep well, Isabela.”

[padmeandaloysupremacy]

This is a snippet of a Modern AU story I'm writing about with Anakin being a single father to Leia and him meeting Padme, and Leia trying to play matchmaker between the two lovebirds!

Rich brown tresses curled to perfection by God himself. Wide and vibrant chocolate brown eyes that brought out the indulgence of Heaven. Slim, toned, and curvy figure that was only missing a pair of bright feathery wings to ascend her ethereal presence to th--.

"Dad!"

Anakin jolted out of his trance and found the eyes of his daughter, the princess herself, Leia Skywalker staring back at him with an odd expression written across her face. Her brown orbs similar in color to the Angel's peered into his soul like she had opened Pandora's box and found something so extraordinary and outwardly that her tiny little head couldn't even comprehend it even if she tried.

Anakin took a deep breath to calm his nerves and answered his daughter's plea, "What, princess?"

No words came out of her mouth, only a chuckle reverberated from her mouth? Oh No!

Red Flag.

Code Red.

A smirk wider than the Grand Canyon stretched across her face, eyes glistening with mischievous intent, and hands fidgeting at her side in the way Anakin only knew as 'YOU ARE SO SCREWED SKYWALKER.'

Anakin closed his eyes and practically pleaded with God the Almighty, that whatever his daughter had planned will not lead to his embarrassment or humiliation.  

He doesn't want a repeat such as the time Leia planted a huge make-shift sign on the back of his car before he left for work which read 'Help wanted, need help cleaning my adult diaper, call this number, PLEASE'.

Anakin will never forget the amount of voicemails left on his phone with people who were actually serious in helping him. And the older women who were more than eagerly interested in helping him with his situation. Just the thought gave him a shudder.

"Oh, nothing." Leia articulated with mock sweetness, that would've been believable to most, but not him. "I was just wondering why your eyes looked like they were going to fall out of your sockets."

Anakin attempted to ignore her answer by turning away from her and choosing to stare at the clear blue sky above and enjoying the flock of birds who were currently flying in some intricate pattern, which Anakin wished he could be doing right now to avoid the inevitable he knew was coming.

"No Answer, that's surprising because I believe that it maybe had to do with the fine young woman currently positioned a couple yards to the right of us, who is currently seated on a beautiful quilted blanket possibly knitted by her grandmother and reading a large book that she seems currently engrossed in, moreso fascinated in. Am I right to presume that?"

This made Anakin swing his head to her faster than a bullet shot out of a rifle, and as he looked into her eyes with something accustomed to fear and guilt, she had the audacity to tilt her head at him and pout like she was suddenly four years old and jumping on his bed at one in the morning to go get ice cream.

The heat radiating from his cheeks was so warm, he swore he could literally fry eggs off of it and start his own restaurant chain to compete against Waffle House and IHOP. 

His daughter, Leia Skywalker, so inquisitive and such a pain in his ass.

Anakin did his best at calming himself and replied with an innocent look crossing his face, hoping Leia would buy his bluff. "L-leia, what are you talking a-about."

"Dad, don't play dumb. I saw you giving her the 'You are so perfect, I will kiss the ground you walk upon'  look."

Anakin shook his head in disbelief at the words pouring out of her at the moment. He closed his eyes to control his breathing and to take control of the situation. 'Grab ahold of yourself, you idiot. You are, Anakin Skywalker, teacher at the prestigious Coruscant University, don't let this 15 year old little dumpling be out to make you look like a fool to all these people here enjoying their day in this beautiful park.'

Seemingly able to somewhat convince himself about his character and integrity, Anakin found that he needed to coherently explain to Leia that she isn't some Dr.Phil and what she saw was just a misunderstanding and biased assumption on her part.

He turned to her and glared, "I d-didn't give her whatever you were calling it eyes, so how about you shut up, Dr. Lightman, and go back to painting your portrait."

Leia stared up at him and seemed to almost obediently nod back at him, which would have raised lots of red flags if it wasn't for the fact that his mind was in such a volatile state that he didn't even know if he was thinking correctly.

He needed to find something quick to alleviate the pressure building up in his brain, so he decided to lie down on the soft blanket atop the grass and was blessed by the immediate sense of pleasure and serenity that seemed to invade his senses and send him on a sort of trip like Alice from Alice in Wonderland.

His mission: to forget the Angel, Leia, and his problems.

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

As Anakin pondered at the noises of nature for the last few minutes, he seemed to realize that it got very quiet. Too quiet. Not physically like no sounds at all, but more so the fact that Leia hasn't said anything in the last few minutes.

He knew Leia to be anything, but quiet. He waited for the witty comeback that he expected she was coming up with at the moment, but he heard nothing, besides the birds chirping and the wind bristling through the leaves of the tall oak trees.

Anakin frowned as the quietness ensued and seemed to damper the tranquility he experienced not too long ago. He finally opened his eyes to investigate the matter. He glanced around trying to find his little princess. He saw that her painting had been left untouched and he started to wonder if she maybe happened to wander off somewhere.

A sense of worry started to fill him up like a pond and he frantically looked around trying to locate her. Once his eyes found what he was looking for, he couldn't find it within himself to fight the urge of not wanting to faint.

He found his little munchkin sitting on an exquisite quilt not too far from him, with her legs crossing each other in the form of sit-cross applesauce and her mouth talking animatedly with, HER.

The Angel

The goddess

The world started to fade

"It can't be." Anakin whispered. Leia can't do this to him.

He then sees a finger pointed his way and a pair of chocolate brown eyes peering into him and a delicate rising in the air to wave directly at him.

 He swore he fainted.

Actually he did.

[dancingintheraindreamingonday]

They came and they took her - Chapter 4

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

A month later later, Bucky sits in a bar waiting for Sam to arrive. After all that time he’s still not sure what to think about Sam. A lot of people like him, including you and Steve. But Bucky finds this guy a bit annoying and irritating.

Sam tells Bucky about the group called the flag smashers who was comprised of super soldiers. Something that they really should investigate further and in need stop.

Bucky’s phone’s ringing. As he looks at it, he stops in his movement. 

„What is it?“ Sam notices the distress in Bucky’s face.

„It’s the number of (y/f/n)’s emergency phone. I gave it to her in Bucharest. Told her to use is when she’s in danger.“

„Well, answer it!“

„Hello?“ Silence

„Who’s there?“ Bucky asks again

„My name is Alexander Steve Barnes.“, says the soft, timidest voice Bucky ever heard. 

„My mum told me to call you.“, his voice was full with fear. 

„Where’s your mum?“

„They came and they took her.“ Alex starts hiccuping.

„Stay exactly where you are. I’m coming.“ 

Bucky ends the call and looks at the gin glas in front of him. He takes it and smashes it against the wall. 

„They got (y/f/n). They took her.“ Bucky’s furious. 

„Who took her?“

„Sam, how would I know who took her?! I wasn’t there, yeah?!“ This realization hits him like a ton of bricks. He wasn’t there. He was so caught up with his amends, with his pain, with his guilt, that he didn’t protect you. Bucky demolishes the whole interior of the bar. The pain he feels right now is agonizing and almost unbearable. You’re missing and he has absolutely no idea who could be responsible for that. 

The drive to your house was quick, thanks to Bucky ignoring every single traffic sign.

Arriving at your door, Bucky’s heart drops into his gut. The door isn’t locked; it was barely in the frame. 

Walking down the floor he and Sam see the impact of your abduction. The furniture is demolished, glass got shattered, doors of cupboards are open like someone was looking for something. But the most disturbing thing is the blood. Everywhere. “Your wife gave a hell of a fight.”

As they walk they stumble upon two corpses laying on the ground. 

„Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.“ Sam states. 

„Why was S.H.I.E.L.D here?“ He asks Bucky.

A question none could answer. 

„Stay here. I’m getting the kid.“

Bucky takes the stairs thinking to himself that if they were after the child, they probably would’ve found it in this tiny house. But why were they here? Why did the kidnapped (y/f/n)? Probably because of him. All bad things happened because of him.

He enters your bedroom, noticing that your bedding was on the ground. Aren’t you sleeping in your bed? „Kid? You can come out now.“

„Say the password.“, requests the child’s voice

„Password? Sorry kid, I don’t know any password.“, Bucky rubs the bridge of his nose, cursing you silently for creating a password no one knows. He looks around in your bedroom hoping that he might find a post-it with the password on it. But instead the only thing he sees is a huge celestial map. And just like that, he remembers:

Bucky laid on the ground. Just a few hours ago he resisted the Russian commands that Ayo gave him. He was no longer the winter soldier. He was no longer a slave. And he was no longer a weapon. His eyes were still wet and red as he stared into the night. The sky was clear and all the millions of stars shined brightly. „Beautiful, isn’t it?“, your voice broke the silence. Bucky turned his head and saw you starring at the sky. „Ayo told me what happened. I’m so damn proud of you, my white wolf.“ You winked at him as you sat down next to him. „And I finally found out what star this is.“, you pointed to the brightest star. „Well, to be honest- It wasn’t me who found out the name of the star. The kids I’m teaching at school are way smarter than I am with my maths degree, so instead of embarrassing me again I gave them the task to find out the name of the star. And it’s name is… drum roll.“ You clapped out the rhythm. „Canopus. The name of the star is Canopus.“ Since you two arrived in Wakanda this star always made you interested. „So, now we know the name of our lucky star.“ You laid down next to Bucky. „No matter what challenges we will face and no matter where we are- together or apart, our star will always be out there watching and guarding us.“ “We will never be apart.”, whispered Bucky.

„Canopus. The password is Canopus.“

Bucky hears the lock clicking and the door opens. And there he stands. His son. For the first time Bucky meets his child. He was undoubtedly his son. His dark brown hair, his oval face and your big (y/e/c) eyes. He was still wearing his pyjamas. A brown teddybear with a bowtie is pressed against him. Bucky recognizes the teddy bear as the one he won for you at a shooting gallery. A warm feeling of attachment and the need to protect this child floods through his body. He bends over and picks him up. Alex buries his face against Bucky’s neck. „Lets get you out of here, kid.“ 

As he walks down the stairs Sam meets him with lots of files in his hands. „Here are dozen of S.H.I.E.L.D files. There are several about super soldiers. This one…“, Sam shows him one file „This one is about you. But I can just read your name. Everything else is blacked out. Strange, isn’t it?“ 

Strange doesn’t even describe the oddness of this situation. 

„What do we do now?“, Sam asks while opening the car. Bucky has no idea. What should he do with this kid? „Aunt Pepper.“, mumbles the little one. „What?“

„Mum said that when the superhero doesn’t know what to do, I should suggest aunt Pepper.“ Alex shows Bucky the back of his left hand. There are, written with a bullpen, the words „aunt Pepper“. This was probably a precaution if Alex would’ve forgotten the name. Bucky chuckles. Even in the times of great danger, his wife stayed sane and cool-headed.

This time Sam is driving, noticing how calm Bucky seems with his kid still in his arms. Seeing Bucky acting somewhat like a father is just an interesting picture. That makes Sam contemplate the thing he saw next to the bin. As a guy he wasn’t really sure what it was but now that he thinks about it… it definitely could have been a pregnancy test. 

But two lines mean negative, right?

Chapter 5

@inlovewith3 @jackiehollanderr @homesicam @dreamydreamerwriting @losers-club6 @gengen64 @agentsofsheilds @crimson-darling @akkinda10 @xemine @bubblegumholland @chipilerendi @iamasimpingh0e @bbmommy0902 @madddiiee26 @teenagedreams-bucky @aya-fay @idontknowwhatthisisfam 

Let me know what you think. Criticism is always welcome 😃 English is not my first language so bear with me and my errors. And thank you to everyone who reads my stories. Especially to those who write sweet comment. I live for them :D I smile all day just because of you guys. 

[ackerfics]

so this is love — annie leonhart

— annie leonhart x female reader

— request by anon: I kinda have a request. How about royal au? Where 2 kingdoms are at war with each other, and reader is the heir of the throne of one kingdom (but they’re not the spoiled type of heir, more like the solider one?) and then the kingdoms decided a truce. Reader will have to marry the heir of the other kingdom which is Annie. Idk maybe those arranged marriages that they never get along at first? Kinda like they were enemies bc they never get along until some development of feelings happen along the way. Maybe Annie will realize that she has feelings when reader got injured since they’re a soldier

— warnings: mentions of war, slight angst if you squint, just two idiots falling in love with each other :))

— summary: you were sent off to another kingdom as a sign of a truce, promising to yourself that the engagement is close to death at how you got off on the wrong foot with your betrothed. it was hell at first but who knows? maybe, unbeknownst to you, the two of you are a match made by the gods.

— word count: 7.5k

— author’s notes: i am so sorry this came out so long :((( we just finished our exams and we have a case study to write as our midterm for a subject. i hope this will still quench your annie fic cravings. and by the way, i fashioned the kingdom of idylle to mondstadt because genshin impact is my stress reliever right now and a kingdom built upon freedom sounds like a gem. plus, the glass castle of the reader is based off of the castle of cinderella, which is the reason for the title hhhhhh happy reading !!!

so this didn’t appear in the tags so i reposted it :”(((

Corsets were abominations that needed to be burned.

The girl with your features staring at you from the mirror was someone you couldn’t recognize from all the preparations your chambermaid did on your figure. The make-up was appalling and thick that you could see a smear on the back of your hand when you tried rubbing your itching nose. Your hair was done in a half up-do with too many decorative pins sticking out, creating a makeshift crown of silver roses, one of the symbols of your kingdom. The dress your mother expected you in was straight-up ridiculous, you couldn’t move from the tightness of the corset and the heaviness of your skirts was hindering you from moving freely. You couldn’t even deny that it was a lovely gown but its inconvenience was irking you at the slightest turn or stretch.

Dressing up this lavishly was rare for you, the Crown Princess of the kingdom boring flags of silver and lilac. You very much preferred the heaviness of your armor and your title as one of your kingdom’s Commendatore rather than the ladylike image your mother has been forcing you on the past few weeks.

You were livid when your parents renounced from the ten-year war that was purging the continent with just a sign on a piece of paper — one that included your name and your honor. Everything was brutal, carnage dotting every town and village of the two kingdoms throwing spears and fire cannons, and you witnessed it all firsthand when you started being one of your kingdom’s soldiers four years ago — a sixteen-year-old girl throwing orders that gave you an advantage from your enemies wearing the crest of the kingdom that painted your lands a heart-wrenching red. Of all solutions that your parents and the other kingdom could come up with, it involved you in the most unacceptable way possible. Officially entering your twenties this year, your parents thought it necessary to offer you as a bride that signified peace to the warring nation right beyond the border. The idea made your vision red, an outburst coming out of your mouth mere seconds after the proposal was announced in the council meeting.

A soldier, a knight, a commander — that’s what you are.

Not some forsaken young woman ready to be shipped off to your rival nation because it was the only way out of this bloody mess.

You had no choice.

The only way for you to grasp the final moments in your kingdom was relishing the touches of the chambermaid and taking in the décor of your room — the small trinkets scattered on your nightstands, the books you escaped to, the jewelry that boasted the colors of your family, and the stuffed animals your nanny sewed for you when you were a toddler. You closed your eyes and let the feathery fingers of the people around you lull you into a prayer for the gods in their celestial thrones, asking for their blessing in this far travel. In the middle of reciting an ode dedicated to the goddess of divine bravery, you felt a cool pendant carefully slide over your collarbones.

Your mother’s face appeared beside the watery princess of the mirror, a forced smile pulling on the corners of her lips. Your distinctly colored irises flickered down on the necklace your mother placed upon the exposed parts of your body. It was a flower-pressed necklace, the gold plate carefully protecting the flower representing your birth. The golden chain holding the necklace together was so thin that you worried for a moment that the fragile piece of jewelry might break in less than an hour while you meet your partner-to-be. You met your mother’s gaze in the mirror — from a chivalrous princess of armor to a dignified queen ruling within a land of eternal spring.

“You look so beautiful,” your mother breathed your name, holding your arms tightly against her ring-adorned hands. Tears blossomed her eyes, trickling down her cheeks akin to the lavender flowers’ petals of the large white tree in your backyard. “You look like the queen you were supposed to be.”

You tried smiling but your wobbly lips made you falter. You can only purse your lips in a tight, flat smile as you face your mother, face set in a kind expression. “Please don’t cry, Mother,” you murmured, placing your palm on top of hers, squeezing it for reassurance. “They wouldn’t do anything to me.”

They, meaning the kingdom you were at war with, the nation that claimed they needed a bride for their Crown Heir. In your world, there was freedom even in marriage — with the kingdoms pairing their sons with the sons of their enemies all for the sake of a truce, especially if the two of them were firstborns. This is very much your situation at the moment. The kingdom of Idylle was a beautiful haven of songs dedicated to the god of the winds, very contrasting to their military power that could take down a good number of your soldiers. You heard stories from some villages in your nation that Idylle was a hoax, that they were bloodthirsty warmongers hungry for the spilled blood of the people of Glaieul, your kingdom. You couldn’t help but believe their words. That was the only addition to your knowledge of Idylle except for their battle tactics and placement of soldiers on the battlefield.

“We’ll pray to the deities that they will do just that,” your mother laughed a little despite the tears. “Or else your father will wage war if they so much scratched you.”

“He wouldn’t do that, Mother,” you shook your head with a slight smile. “You two have worked so hard for this peace treaty. If I ever scratched myself in Idyllic lands, trust me that it would most likely be my fault. Not theirs.”

Your mother’s laugh twinkled in the room, painting everything in a light that erased the heaviness shrouding in every corner of your chambers. “I suppose so. You and your love for your sword are unrivaled. I can still remember the time when you first got the weapon, you were so thrilled for a six-year-old that one would think you were born in the barracks. I have to admit, you looked adorable swinging your sword until the greeting of the night and its stars.” She wistfully sighed, looking down at the necklace she gave you. “Your father was so proud when you came back for dinner that night.”

“My sword has always been a lifelong companion. I will even bring it to their castle.”

Your mother placed a hand on top of her chest, over her heart. “I hope you don’t unsheathe it in front of their royal family.”

You breathed a laugh. “No promises.”

The two of you talk about all the things that happened in your childhood, your laughs echoing through the hallways. The maids and the butlers bade you goodbye and safe travels as you passed by, never forgetting to nod in their direction in acknowledgment. You will miss their company for they saw you grow up before you decided to partake in the war. Almost all of them fussed over the mess you made while practicing your swordplay, cleaning up the broken vases and the mud on the carpeted floors. Even one of the apprentices of the Keeper of Books residing in the palace, Armin, enthusiastically waved at you, his friends flanking him for a visit in the kitchens. You didn’t miss how Eren directed an incredulous stare towards the blonde man, with Mikasa looking shocked at how easily the apprentice interacted with you in a public setting since your times with them only happened behind prying eyes.

You gave the three of them a huge smile that gave their faces a pretty rose shade.

Upon reaching the foyer, your father stood at the foot of the stairs along with the soldiers you acquainted in your time on the battlefield, sending a wave of warmth through your chest. His silver coat lined with gold details was a beacon and his white breeches were tucked in a pair of knee-length boots. His chest was decorated with his sash full of medallions, the kingdom insignia of lilac gladioluses and silver roses pinned on top of his heart. The king of Glaieul softened his eyes, crinkles appearing at the corners, at the sight of you and your mother descending on the stairs.

“My little flower,” was his greeting to you when you reached him.

“Father,” you breathed, picking up your skirts to settle in the embrace of waiting arms. You buried your figure against him, inhaling his scent of pine and rosewater, creating the last memory you will have of him. The two of you pulled away for a moment, your eyes watering at the sad visage your father sported. You felt the lightest brush of his kiss on your forehead. 

“Now I’m becoming reluctant in sending you off,” he told you. “I felt guilty when I saw you fight against this during the council meeting. But it is what they offered and I have no say in the matter.”

“I know.”

“May the eternal spring never waver in your soul.”

You nodded before taking a step back, bowing with your knees on the marble floors. Your crown glinted against the light from the stained-glass windows, your hair forming a curtain around your face as you replied, “I will let it fester among the ballads and idylls they will offer. I will carry the name of Glaieul with faithfulness, honor, and grace.” You raised your head to meet your father’s eyes. “I promise to never deter the eternal spring.”

It would be that way until your last years in that kingdom. And as you rode the carriage with the soldiers you fought with guarding the vehicle with their lives on the line, you could only sigh and offer another round of prayers that this swerves in a more positive direction than what you were expecting. After a hefty journey across the bustling capital (people stopped by and waved your carriage goodbye, offering you flowers that one of the captains of the fleet, Levi, scowled at — you coaxed him that it was alright, though) to the hectares of meadows in the countryside, the sight of flowers mixed with emerald turned into a sea of teal as you entered the outskirts of Idylle, your betrothed’s home. Everything was bathed with the endemic species of grass solely blessed by the god of the winds on Idylle — legends say that it was because He wanted the kingdom that worshipped him to look different than the rest. No matter how much you deny it, it was beautiful.

“How are you faring, princess?”

Your daze was interrupted by a baritone voice, deep enough to alert some of the men around the carriage. His gray eyes provided you support during the war. You couldn’t help but smile at the onyx-haired man riding by your right window. “Hello, Captain Levi.”

“Tch. Drop the title, brat. You and I both know that the war made us friends somewhat.”

You let out a small laugh. “Well, Levi, to answer your question, I’m quite fine even though my parents just sold me to gain peace.”

Levi rose an eyebrow at the remark. “I am not one to have the capabilities to comfort someone but think of this as a way for you to help the kingdom without sacrificing your life for once. A nation without its heir is just like losing its king. I’ve seen you train when you’re starting as a squire and to the point when you got the position you deserve. This would be like a small walk in the gardens of your mother.” He fixated his stare on you, eyes dull yet determined to get his point across. “You have a role in every part of your life and this time, this is what the gods crafted for you. Do not fret, princess, you have more chances of being on the battlefield again.”

The words Levi spoke settled in you until you reached the capital of Idylle, a small island in the middle of a clear azure lake with walls resembling a huge castle. The bridge leading to the gates was lined with guards bearing the kingdom’s crest, all of them standing under the flapping flags bearing the symbol and colors of the royal family they serve — a harp surrounded by the colors of gold and blue. Their eyes warily followed the series of carriages, postures becoming stiff in the realization that the entourage holds the visitor their rivaling country sent. That was still the scenario when the series of carriages and horses passed by the marketplace, the vicinity on the lowest part of the walled capital, as if the wind even ceased to let the people gawk at the brightly-colored entourage making its way to the highest tier depicting mansions and the main plaza where their patron god stood tall and proud in front of the palace’s gates.

Everything looked magnificent.

It was a breath of fresh air from the glass castle you grew up in. Whereas your kingdom built a white, blinding home that withstood for hundreds of years, Idylle’s palace blended with the brick walls with its leveled mansard roofs and turrets. The gates were made of gold, welcoming you into a huge square of maze-like hedges, a fountain sitting in the middle of the labyrinth. Some gardeners stopped their daily chores to greet the carriages with a wave of their hat, seeing as you were going to be an addition to the royal family after the wedding in a few months. The steps leading to the main doors loomed in front of you with only a few servants waiting for you to step out of the carriage.

You took in a deep breath, nodding at Levi to open the door. When it swung open, you placed your hand on top of Levi’s as he guided you down the propped steps on the side of the carriage.

“Well,” Levi hummed from behind you, making you glance at him with a curious eye. “May the eternal spring never waver in your soul, Your Highness.” He bowed in front of you, only a dip of his head, a firm hand on his heart, and yet that was enough for you to reciprocate it with a kind smile.  

“Safe travels back, Captain Levi. May the gods protect you.”

The servant boys standing on top of the stairs jumped an inch in the air, going down in fleeting steps to get your luggage when they realized they were staring too long at you. You smiled at them in gratitude before stepping inside the palace as the guards opened the huge, gilded double doors in front of you.

The inside was just elegant as the exterior appearance of the entire capital. Everything was bathed in gold that seemed to rival the Sun and it made you look away for a moment. The grand hall followed the kingdom’s colors, from the turquoise carpets leading towards two winding staircases to the golden ceilings decorated with paintings of cherubs and the story of how their god of the winds came to be. One of the servant boys slightly cleared his throat, snapping you out of your curiosity of the myths laid on the ceiling. You turned to him with raised eyebrows, spurring him to whisper a faint, “Follow us, Your Highness.” They led you through hallways hung with tapestries and paintings, drawing rooms where the queen hosted her tea parties (Levi would have loved it), and ballrooms that have the same aesthetic as the foyer. Finally, you stopped in front of one of the apartments in the palace, the servant boy who told you to follow them brightened at the guard stationed there.

“Reiner!”

You waited patiently and let your eyes roam across the hallway.

“Hello, Falco, Udo.” The man, Reiner, smiled at the young boys before turning to you. He placed a hand on his heart and bowed. “Welcome to Gale, the capital of Idylle, Your Highness.”

“Thank you for the welcome,” you replied, motioning for him that it was quite alright to straighten his posture. “The palace looks lovely.”

“Indeed, it is.” Reiner opened the doors of your room and once again bowed with an outstretched hand towards the room. “Here are your chambers and I will be your guard for the entirety of your stay here in the palace, Your Highness.” You muttered a faint ‘thank you’ as you entered a drawing room with a door to the private chambers on the left and the bathrooms to the right. There was a table fit for two people, armchairs, and drawers with vases on top. A huge floor-to-ceiling window illuminated the room, your feet carrying you there to open them, and letting the wind caress the curtains as they danced in the breeze. “If you ever need anything, you can call for my name and I will be here in an instant. Your chambermaid will be up here in a moment to help you prepare for the family dinner. For now, rest well, Your Highness.”

“Thank you, Reiner, Falco, Udo,” you smiled, retreating towards the private chambers.

You let out a sigh and stared at nothing for a few moments. It came down to this. To think that you were in enemy lands and was treated so well without any degradation came as a shock to you. The people so far that radiated negativity at your arrival were the guards stationed at the bridge and some of the townsfolk and nobles parading in the streets. As you think about the servant boys and Reiner’s calmness in receiving you in the palace, you immediately thought that it would be better than you expected.

You took off your heels under your dress, mind racing that this wouldn’t be so bad, and plopped on top of your canopied bed, its baby blue curtains protecting you from unknown disturbances and drowning you in a rapid of dreams.

-

The dinner didn’t go so well as you expected.

You donned a more suitable dress for indoor use, something that doesn’t include forcing your figure in a tight corset and yet presentable enough to be shown in the family dinner. You even placed a circlet of silver flowers on your head to compensate for the dull dress you chose, the description fitting after one of the chambermaids expressed their perplexity at how simple regarding design your dress has. Your light blue skirts fanned out around you as you made your way to one of the grand dining rooms reserved for family use. The choice of the color of the dress should be enough to express that you are willing to be on good terms with the family of the person you will marry.

But your first meeting with Annie Leonhart was interestingly disappointing.

Before departing from your kingdom, you learned the royal family and even Idylle’s customs. You learned how they always valued freedom and expression above all else, compared to your home that valued their ties with the gods more than the idea of getting rid of the shackles placed by your deities. You learned how they have this festival dedicated to celebrating the love they share with their patron god and how it spanned for half a month.

Finally, you learned about the indifferent Crown Heir of Idylle, the young woman with the piercing blue oceanic eyes sitting in front of you at the dinner table. She was known for building up walls that discouraged some of her engagements with other royalties across the continent. She was so closed off that she didn’t even glance in your direction for one second. Her hair was done in an elaborate bun wrapping around her head in a braid, her small, thin diadem resting against her golden hair. Annie kept her gaze on her plate, even playing with her food mindlessly for a couple of minutes before sighing and taking a bite of the chicken the maids served. No conversation was exchanged and the dinner ultimately became one of the most awkward meals you had. The king even tried to engage his daughter for casual talk but Annie dismissed them with a hum.

The queen had to apologize to you several times after the dinner, with Annie huffing at the back and eager to get out of the room. Despite how much she was against this engagement, you still bowed at her before you retreated to your room.

Now dressed in your nightgown, you stared at the canopy of your bed, already missing your home the more you fixed your attention on the bundled-up curtains. You badly needed to hit a straw dummy with your sword to let out your frustrations. Of all the royalties present in your continent, why did it have to be you that was shipped to this measly forced marriage? There were still so many solutions that could lead to a peace treaty but why was this the only one the kings and queens could present to their courts? A sigh escaped your chest once again at the thought of actually getting to know Annie. You laid on your side, curling your legs towards your chest and prayed that the god of dreams will visit you sooner than expected.

A knock reverberated through your chambers, the sound making you sit up.

You went to the receiving room and opened the door. You kept the small hitch of your breath in your chest at the sight of Annie and her half-lidded eyes. There was no one in the hallways. You figured that she sent Reiner away for some privacy, meeting the blue irises you likened to brilliant sapphires. 

“What brings you here, Your Highness?” you asked, opening the door wider.

“Annie.” She saw how your eyebrows raised in surprise. “Call me Annie, we’re betrothed after all.”

“Of course.” You smiled. “Annie,” you tested her name softly, missing the way she inhaled too sharply at your voice. 

Annie reciprocated the gesture by saying your name. The two of you stared at each other and it felt like an eternity before she looked away to focus on the receiving room behind you. She noticed how your eyes held kindness underneath the star-like shine even though she showed hostility during your first dinner with her family. Your hair was disheveled and it didn’t take her a minute to realize she might have woken you up from a good night’s rest. The journey from Glaieul to Idylle was a long one. You deserve all the rest you can get, “I apologize if I woke you up but I feel like I should do this before dragging it out.” You once again raised an eyebrow so she took out a leather box, opening it to reveal a ring with a holographic gem showing teal and pink in the middle. The Leonhart family ring. “Here.”

“Oh.”

You were gawking at the beautiful piece of jewelry, with Annie taking the matter in her own hands. She took the ring out of the box and pocketed the container. Her hand reached out to hold your palm against hers, sliding the ring in your ring finger. Your hand still hovered in front of you after Annie retracted hers to find their place by her side. She continued to eye your mesmerized visage with a half-lidded gaze, clearing her throat to catch your attention. You turned to her with a small apology for spacing out.

“It’s fine,” Annie waved off. “It’s yours starting today.” She turned away from you and went down the hallways but not before saying a “Good night, [Name].”

-

The entire week of your stay in Idylle was uneventful, to say the least.

Annie kept her distance from you after that night she gave you their family ring. It left you thinking that you should also gift her the [Last Name] ring your family treasured for centuries. The ring was placed in a small cushioned jewelry box that you opened and propped on one of your night tables. Your conscience was telling you to give it to her but there wasn’t exactly any moment alone with her let alone just passing by her in the hallways. The blonde princess made it her mission to never let your fates meet the more time you spent in the capital. You then decided that she probably didn’t want this engagement to happen.

But she gave you the ring. Wasn’t that a strong signal that Annie accepted you as her betrothed, unlike the others before you?

You shook that thought as you focused on giving consecutive hits on the dummy in front of you. Two days before, you proposed to the king to let you have a moment alone in the training grounds for about two hours or so to keep you in shape. He reluctantly agreed, but not without a side stare at the queen. They heard of your glorious feats during the war, how you managed to become one of the Commanders of a battalion of soldiers tasked with being in the frontlines and how you won constant ambushes against Idylle’s numbers. Two hours of training became three until here you are, still not stopping as you finished every single dummy in the private training grounds. With your day spent outside, you thought it would be nice to have a nice dip in the bathtub before dinner.

In your walk towards your chambers, you spotted Annie in one of the drawing rooms, sitting in the window seats with a book of war tactics in hand. You recognized the author as one of the revolutionaries mentioned to you by your tutor. 

“That’s a nice book,” you couldn’t help but mention. Annie turned to you unfazed by your interruption though there was a glint of interest in her eyes. “The book mostly describes battle formations but I think the author likened it to every situation on the battlefield. For instance, the phalanx was native to the empire of Great Findara and it was great for preventing casualties until it was overpowered by the infantry tactic of the city nation of Khisfire where every man has a role and a weapon depending on their group. The latter was more on the long-range yet melee way of taking back the territory.”

Annie hummed. “Do royal tutors of Glaieul teach this to their students?”

“Oh, no. I learned it while taking on the role of a squire.”

She once again hummed. “It completely slipped my mind that you are one of the Commanders in your military. You were ruthless as the folks in the noble plaza say, blood tainting your hands from doing raids in the border villages of Idylle.” Her tone was like a jab to your side, like an arrow tearing through your skin. “I know it was a time of war and desperate times call for desperate measures but our people didn’t deserve to experience the massacres.”

“They were far from being massacres,” you gritted your teeth.

Annie scoffed. “Then what were they? Because that’s what it looks like to me. I can still remember the story two years ago of a young girl wearing her lilac cape in the bloodbath, eyes so dull that you can see your reflection on it. What’s to say that this engagement is a hoax plotted by your parents to assassinate my family for you to win a territory you greatly needed because of the resources?” She closed her book with too much force, bitterly spitting out the next words, “The apple doesn’t fall from the tree as the saying goes.”

“If you question my being here then why did you give me your family ring, Annie?” you asked, your body now facing the tense young woman by the window. You cursed at how the light made her look angelic like the girl the god of the winds sacrificed his life to before he ascended to the heavens. “This peace treaty is everything my family wanted even though hundreds of our soldiers died in vain for not meeting the ends of what they fought for. If you’re saying that my parents placed me in an undercover predicament to add to the weight of deaths on my shoulders, I suggest you tell your father to put a stop to our betrothal. Because I don’t even want to be here, Your Highness, and it would do me such a huge honor. I would rather spend my time out with my fellow soldiers than pretending I’m some dainty princess my family sheltered when in fact, I was anything but that.

“Have a good day and I hope you enjoy the rest of the book. Chapter ten was a personal favorite of mine,” you dismissed, turning towards the direction of the apartments.

Once you reached your door, Reiner straightened his posture, faltering for a second when he noticed the cross look on your face. He chose not to say anything as he opened the door for you. You took off your boots right beside one of the armchairs of the receiving room and immediately went inside your private chambers. The glint of the ring on your night table mocked you. You stomped over the furniture and forcefully closed the small jewelry box, throwing the container inside one of the drawers.

Maybe sleep will be much kinder to you, the sheets enveloping you in an embrace you wish your mother can only give in this time of need.

-

You were radiant under the harsh heat of the Sun.

Annie was scheduled to have a free slot in her timetable after being included in one of the court meetings regarding the resiliency plan of some of the villages in the borders that managed to survive the Glaieulian raids. She suggested that the villages should be moved to one of the more remote villages nearer the capital, where the terrain is suitable for growing crops and starting small farms. There wouldn’t be an issue with overpopulation because the recommended village was home to the elderly and children. The newly situated families will also aid the old people as they go about their mundane activities. It was a sound suggestion and her father was also considering it. Annie hoped that would be the case as she scribbled a small note on a piece of paper. After the meeting, she stopped by one of the windows overlooking the training grounds, and there you are.

Your small argument that happened a few days before stirred some guilt in Annie’s stomach. 

You weren’t even part of the raids she was talking about. They were led by a commander by the name of Erwin Smith. The stories about you that she heard were from Idyllic soldiers that suffered a lot during the war, not from the people of the villages Erwin raided. Annie couldn’t deny it but she did step out of the line by accusing you of being an assassin. That was too far-fetched. She was just stuck in her suspicions when she was supposed to be getting to know you.

All she knew about you was that you were adept with a sword and can name any tactic written in books about wars.

Annie saw a maid cleaning one of the vases in the hallway. “Miranda.”

The maid turned around, curtsying in a haste before patting her uniform. “What can I do for you, Your Highness?”

“Can you prepare a tray of iced apple juice and some cakes?”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

Annie nodded. “And can you place this note on the tray and deliver it to [Name]’s room?”

The maid was taken aback. “Well, it would be my pleasure, Princess.”

“Thank you.” With that, Annie walked away without a glance back.

Curious eyes followed the princess’ form, the maid finding herself looking at your figure sparring with Reiner and a smile instantly greeted her face. This could be a turning point in the betrothal because she could’ve sworn Annie had a small blush on her cheeks at the mention of the other princess. 

After your training, a tray of sweets and a pitcher with glasses of apple juice awaited you in your receiving room. You wanted to ask Reiner if he asked some of the chambermaids to prepare the afternoon snack but a folded note caught your eye. With one hand gripping the towel around your shoulders, you read the note, your face warming up at the short yet endearing sentence.

Indulge in these, they taste better after a good training session.

Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all, you thought as you munched on a sprinkled cookie.

-

Her eyes kept following a trail of gold tulle, silks, and laces, never looking away the moment her blue eyes laid themselves upon a beauty that rivaled the goddess of oneiric realms, the most ethereal goddess of the heavens. You were dressed in an off-shoulder gown with loose sleeves reaching your elbow, the bodice carefully wrapping around your torso in the most flattering way possible, and skirts adorned with silver gems. In a sea of aristocrats with fabulous dresses, you were a sight to behold in this ball dedicated to commemorate the truce between Glaieul and Idylle as well as announce the engagement between the two countries. You were starlight personified, shining in Annie’s eyes under the lights of tens of chandeliers in the ballroom. 

You were on the other side of the ballroom, laughing with your friends from your home kingdom. There was a tall brunette that seemed to be star-struck because of you just like Annie, a black-haired young woman who was smiling slightly, and a blonde who was engaged in an animated conversation with you. Your smiles were refreshing, to say the least, Annie seeing it for the first time since you came to their palace. Your laughs are genuine and it came out of you so easily when in the company of your friends.

Annie visibly stiffened when you turned around and smiled at her, gesturing for her to come to join the small huddle. Your three friends tensed noticeably at her half-lidded stare, with you reassuring them that she’s not that indifferent all the time. 

As if sensing Annie’s hesitance, Reiner chuckled behind her. “You know, it wouldn’t hurt to introduce yourself to them, Your Highness.”

“I’m getting to that, Reiner.”

A laugh came from the blonde man. “She’s good for you. That much I can tell. The kindest soul I’ve ever met in my life.”

Again, guilt pooled in Annie’s chest. Those words are the opposite of what she spewed out to you the last time you talked. She called you a power-hungry monster who ravaged the war with no care on your shoulders. She didn’t even apologize yet. Annie sighed, “I know.” Then, she pulled up her skirts, navigated the ballroom, and stopped directly beside you. Her blue eyes scrutinized the three people you grew up with, with the brunette and black-haired woman stepping a small step forward to assert their dominance while the blonde pinched their backs to warn them not to step out of line in another kingdom. “Hello.” She transferred her eyes on you afterward, placing a gentle hand on the small of your back and rubbing it in a comforting motion. “I hope you enjoyed the ball so far.” Those words were directed to you.

You only nodded with a smile. “Annie, this is Eren, Mikasa, and Armin. They’re my friends when I was growing up in the glass castle.” Annie nodded. “Everyone, this is Annie, my fiancé.”

“We know,” Eren, the long-haired man in a low ponytail murmured with his arms crossed over his broad chest.

“Eren,” Armin reprimanded. He smiled at a stone-faced Annie. “Thank you for making [Name] happy! I can sense that she has a different air around her while we talked. It must be because of you.”

Annie stayed quiet, her hand coming into a still on the small of your back. It was a good thing her left hand was hidden away because they would immediately think that you didn’t accept the engagement. She glanced at the ring nestling in your finger, a perfect match against the golden train of your dress. Realizing that she created an awkward stretch of silence, Annie could only nod wordlessly before shifting her attention to you again. It seems like you’re the only one who can calm her nerves down inside the vast ballroom. She never took her gaze on you even as you continued the conversation between your friends.

Her mind was fogged with thoughts of only you throughout the ball.

The two of you excused yourself from the trio when Annie’s father called for everyone’s attention from the front of the huge chambers. “Everyone, kind souls and pure-hearted people of the continent, since tonight is all for enjoyment, the waltz of the ball will now commence.” His blue eyes went to his daughter, standing at the side of his throne. “The moment everyone is waiting for — the first waltz.”

She rehearsed this too many times for when a proper betrothal comes into play but why is her hand shaking when she outstretched it in front of you? You must have felt it because you flashed a comforting smile her way. The two of you went to the middle of the ballroom, the guests staring expectantly at the birth of a romance. They were wrong because you hate her and she hates you. Right? Her hatred for you will never waver for killing her people even though you look like a descended goddess with the lights of the chandeliers raining on you. Hatred must be fueling her heart to beat faster than ever, why she seemed to trip over her skirts and how her words stumbled in her tongue. That must be it.

The dance slowly made its way to the part where she struggled, dipping you as gracefully as she can. Before it happened, you whispered to her, “Please don’t make me fall.”

Annie’s voice was soft, for your ears only. “I promise, my princess.”

It truly was a birth of a romance, the two of you unaware of it all.

-

“Come on, Reiner!” You shouted at him from across the training field. “Come at me with all you’ve got.”

The blonde man hesitantly shifted into position as he eyed you. “Are you sure, princess? I wouldn’t want to hurt you.” He remembered the threatening look he received from Annie before this training session and he would like all of his limbs intact, thank you very much. “I just don’t want your chambermaid to nag me again after last time.” He managed a cut on your arm your previous session and you had to wear a long-sleeved dress in such stifling weather.

You scoffed lightheartedly. “I can handle it, Reiner. You don’t have to worry about it. Plus, I can dress my wounds perfectly.”

Reiner didn’t believe that. Your skills in covering up your wounds were lacking despite being a soldier. The most you could do was apply some salve on your bruises, that was it. He had no choice because the past month he spent his days with you, you were like a persistent little child that reminded him of his younger cousin. He hoped that you two wouldn’t meet. “Alright, here I go, Your Highness.”

Parry after parry could be heard in the private training field. You were doing fine in deflecting Reiner’s sword but your ankle immediately ached after shifting your body, leaning back to avoid the sharp edge of the knight’s weapon. You let out a huff as you dropped on the ground, jolting when Reiner called for you to stay alert. Seeing the glint of his sword, you rolled away and the pain on your ankle flared, even more, traveling through your calf. It also didn’t help that you received a cut on the side of your bandaged arm. You picked yourself up despite the throbbing pain on your ankle and arm, now being on the defensive as Reiner continuously struck you with his sword. He then circled his weapon around yours, throwing your sword on the side and pushing you to the ground with the tip of his weapon. That was the time where your ankle finally twisted into a sprain.

“Ah!”

“Princess?” Reiner’s tone became alarmed, dropping to your level and taking off your boots in an instant. His hands ghosted around your swollen ankle, not knowing what to do. “Gods, Annie’s going to kill me!”

“Annie?” You asked between pants. “What does this have to do with her?”

He only shook his head, carrying you in his arms and into the palace. His steps were hurried and the maids gasped at the sight of your red ankle. “Please prepare a bucket of ice and bring it to Princess [Name]’s private chambers.” He turned to you. “Hang on for a moment, Your Highness, we’re nearing your room. Just a little bit more.” Reiner entered your room and gently placed you on your bed. “I’m going to be taking off your other shoe, Your Highness.”

“Reiner, I think I’ll take it from here.”

Reiner stiffened, slowly turning his head to the entrance of your private chambers. Annie was impatiently standing with a bucket of ice in both hands, eyes glacially set on the blonde man kneeling on the floor in front of your confused form. She didn’t care if Reiner trembled in front of her. She vividly remembered telling the knight to never hurt you (she didn’t see the cut you had last training session because Annie was in another court meeting involving the incoming tax collection of various villages). Annie glanced at your ankle, barely grimacing at the state of it before gesturing for Reiner to get out of the room. The large blonde man took his leave, bowing at the two of your hastily and closing the doors with finality.

Annie mimicked Reiner’s position, kneeling in one knee to place your injured foot on her thigh. She didn’t wear any dresses for the day and it made her look dashing. The image implanted itself in your brain. Her hands are gentle against your skin, your cheeks flaring at the contact. Her features were contorted in a downturned one that showed how bothered she was. 

“How did this happen?”

Your eyes settled on the top drawer of your nightstand. “I dodged Reiner’s blow and I twisted my ankle in the process.”

“You should be more careful.”

“I’m always careful.”

Annie scoffed. “That’s clearly obvious.” She said nothing more while dipping your foot in the ice bath. She lifted her head too fast when you winced at the coldness of the water. “Deal with it. We wouldn’t want this to be worse than it already is.”

“Thanks for the concern,” you dryly mentioned.

“What makes you think that my being worried is all fake?” You’re silent, Annie choosing the moment to continue the words she didn’t have any control over. “When the maids prepared this bucket of ice in the kitchens, I was out of the council meeting. When I saw then bringing this up to your chambers, I was alarmed and my mind was a mess of thoughts concerning what happened to you.” At each word, her face held a multitude of emotions that you never saw on her. Her lips became pursed whilst you wordlessly stared at her. “I am not pretending to care for you. How could I pretend when I’m already feeling foreign emotions when it comes to you? It’s my first time feeling this way so I don’t know if I can categorize this as falling in love. But it feels like it. So, for the love of the gods, can’t you see that I’m rambling because of you?”

You didn’t reply, instead, you reached out to the drawer where you kept that ring.

“What are you doing? You should be still right now.”

You pulled out the jewelry box and flipped it open, showing the blonde the ring fashioned in a vine, the centerpiece being a group of small gladiolus flowers with diamonds in their centers. 

Annie’s cheeks reddened, flustered at the pretty jewelry. “What?”

Words never came out of you as you took Annie’s left hand. The ring looked pretty on her, the two of you admiring it after you slid the engagement jewelry in her ring finger.

“I now accept you as my fiancé, my future lover, and holder of my heart. Annie Leonhart, may our eternal spring bloom for centuries, and may your god of the winds bless us with his idyllic ballads.” Annie’s eyes were wide and you can see your reflection on them, along with constellations that lit up her irises. You placed your forehead against hers, looking straight into her flushed face. “They were right, this is the birth of a romance.”

And as you two kissed for the first time, the gods were rejoicing in their thrones, each of your prayers answered — your love finally etched in a whimsical melody. 

[limitlessgojo]

Blood Bound: Red Strings of Fate (Ch. 11)

Warnings: Action, Coarse Language, Fighting, Descriptions of Blood

Previous Chapter: Invisible Ties

Next Chapter: Goldenrod

Tags: Soulmates AU, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Fem!Reader

Taglist: @lessie-oxj @rizzo-nero @whoreuc @fkngkumiko @isl3t @gojoussunglasses @onepotatostand-blog @s-t-f-u-b-i-t-c-h @sunaswife

Notes: If you want to be tagged for every update, please mention it in the comments below ty <3

Additional notes: This is so funny but I made a mistake in assuming the previous Goodwill event was held in Tokyo. Rewatched JJK and found out it was in Kyoto so I had to rewrite it XD.

Chapter 11: Kyoto-Tokyo Goodwill Event

Breakfast was a quiet affair. He brought out a short table and you had the meal side by side.

It was grilled salmon and miso soup. You both stole glances at each other when the other wasn't looking.

A domestic life with Noritoshi. Yeah you could get used to this. "Thank you for the meal Noritoshi." You smiled and offered to wash the dishes.

He stood behind you in the small kitchenette as you did, humming softly to yourself. Noritoshi was holding your waist gently and leaning his forehead against your shoulder. Thumbing small circles into the sides of your hips.

You quietly smiled at yourself, not expecting Noritoshi to love physical affection this much. After washing the dishes, you laughed as you placed your ice cold hands on his neck, forcing him to let go of you and flinch back with a frown.

Leaving Noritoshi’s dorm after breakfast had terrible timing apparently. You bumped into Todo senpai on your way out.

“Ah.” You both stared at each other for a bit. Noritoshi was still behind you, the door to his dorm room open. It didn’t help that you had your pillows and blankets in your hands.

And you were still in pajamas.

“So is this like a thing now? Congratulations on getting together.” Todo smiled down at you.

“Ah uhm- we- I- “ You stuttered, but Noritoshi wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you to him.

“Yes we are dating. And what of it?” He stared Todo down. You were flustered but incredibly pleased upon finally hearing a solid label between the two of you.

Todo just grinned. “So you actually have decent taste in women huh Kamo?”

“The best.” He replied dryly. You flushed and whined at Noritoshi, pawing at his robes. He just pulled you closer and hid your face in his chest.

“Didn’t know you had this shy side Tsuchi chan.” Todo was laughing. He bid both of you goodbye, and by the end of the day the entire campus knew both of you were dating.

But of course the both of you didn’t know it yet. “So…. you’re my boyfriend now Toshi?” you reached up to twirl his hair in your fingers as you made your belongings float in midair.

His eyes sparkled at the nickname. He leaned down close to you, “So it seems. Are you unhappy?”

“No. I’m happy.” You leaned up to press your lips against the corner of his.

Noritoshi sent you off, only letting you go after he had gotten a huge hug from you with a deep kiss to the cheek. He realized with a small jolt that he was pretty much touch-starved (no surprises there).

Wishing for more of your hugs and kisses already, and you just left for a few moments. He sighed heavily and shook his head.

Later that day, you bumped into Miwa as you were leaving your dorm. It was the weekend so you all had no classes and missions. She hesitantly called out a “Congratulations. You finally got together with Kamo senpai yeah?”

You looked at her in surprise. “How did you-”

“Todo senpai.”

“That man really doesn’t keep his mouth shut.”

◇◇◇

It was a different experience, having the other students tease the both of you about your new relationship as a real boyfriend and girlfriend. You felt weird by calling him your lover.

"I called it!" Mai proudly smirked down at you. "We all did Mai chan." Momo senpai giggled, bumping her hip with yours as you looked shocked over the bets they placed.

Noritoshi always had a soft smile for you. He recently managed his time better, finishing his studies very early so he could spend more time with you.

Not shy to take your hand whenever you meet in the hallways and drag you for a picnic under the huge Plum Tree or just to hug you quickly before going off to a mission.

You were more open, hopping up to him in the hallways and greeting him cheerfully. ‘It was nice’, you thought to yourself.

Ever the overthinker, you at times think of the secrets he mentioned having. Probably personal matters he wasn’t ready to talk about. That’s fine, you had your own fair share as well. Time will heal and bring whatever it may to the both of you.

◇◇◇

The Kyoto-Tokyo sister school goodwill event was drawing near. You and your fellow first years wished all your participating seniors good luck.

“I heard they also have a Special Grade 1st year student in Tokyo Tech.” You perked up at that, “Is that so?”

“I highly doubt they’d come though. Just like how you aren’t participating, Tsuchi. Usually 2nd and 3rd years are the ones participating. It is going to be held here in Kyoto Tech since we won last year.” Todo grinned.

You wondered about that.

◇◇◇

Just a few days before the goodwill event, Utahime texted you and said Noritoshi was injured from a mission. So of course you flew as fast as you could to his room, where he was being treated.

"Noritoshi!!" You wheezed out, entering his room in a burst of wind. You had come back from a lunch date with an old classmate from elementary.

You hurried over to his bedside and looked him over. He slowly turned to you, eyes widening. He smiled, "An angel is here."

You flushed and laughed out loud, "Noritoshi you've lost it. It's just me. Y/n." You brushed some stray hairs out of his face.

He continued staring at you dreamily, “Angel”. You were all dressed up, face fully made up. Rouge lipstick with a light touch of blush on your cheeks. You had your round shades on, prettily framing your face.

He used a free and uninjured hand to reach and cup your cheek. You leaned into his touch before pushing his arm back down. "You need rest." You said gently.

You placed your hands over his chest and activated your reverse cursed technique. He groaned as he felt his skin stitch back together. "Shhh, it will be fine."

He wasn't that badly injured thank goodness. “Angel, have you seen my y/n? I miss her.” He whined. You patted him on the forehead and shushed him with a quick kiss.

Why was he behaving like this?? You turned to the nurse packing their things from the corner, “I put him on anesthesia. He will be loopy for a bit.”

“Ah.” This might be a little bit fun. “Toshiii~ It’s me y/n how could you not recognize me?” You pouted. Noritoshi pouted and whined in return. The nurse pointedly ignored both of you and quickly left the room.

He stared at you with the biggest eyes he’s ever made, seemingly thinking hard. “Don’t think too hard, you’ll lose brain cells.” you whispered.

“Hold me.” He demanded not unlike a child asking for candy. And so you sat beside him and held onto his hand. You watched as he fell asleep, clinging onto your hand.

This loose-tongued and childish side to Noritoshi was just too adorable.

◇◇◇

Noritoshi stirred awake, seeing you so close to him. You were laying on top of his chest, one hand holding onto his.

He stared at your profile half sprawled over his blanket and reached to put a hand on your back and rubbed it soothingly. Then let his hand rest on the back of your neck while tracing small circles on it with the pad of his thumb.

You were so sweet on him. It was a wonder to Noritoshi, who felt as though he was always lacking in physical affection. To see someone sincerely take care of him without requesting anything in return was refreshing for a change.

He watched as you stirred, then your hand tightened in his and you brought it close to your lips, all while you were still fast asleep. Noritoshi’s eyes twinkled. What were you dreaming about? Was it about him?

He watched as you slowly woke up. “Mmmm Toshiii~” you blearily reached out for him. You were able to wash up and change your clothes while he was asleep.

He pulled you into his bed, making your half sprawl over his lap. “Why didn’t you get in bed with me? Surely your back must hurt? It’s late now, sleep with me.” You looked at the clock and to your surprise it was indeed late. 2am.

“Okayy” you were still whiny, half asleep, and slightly grumpy from waking up. You both settled in the bed and fell asleep holding hands.

◇◇◇

It was finally the day of the Kyoto-Tokyo Goodwill event. You were all out, 1st, 2nd and 3rd years with Utahime sensei and Principal Gakuganji, waiting for the Tokyo group to arrive.

Then you felt this ominous presence from afar. You took a few steps back, cursed energy flaring and winds whipping around you. Everyone looked at you in concern and Noritoshi whispered as he squeezed your hand, "Angel, you okay?"

You still found it funny how he now takes to calling you his angel when it’s just the two of you after you told him about his embarrassing moment when he was loopy on sedatives.

You stared off at a distance. "Everyone... Something… big is coming." You didn't realize that you felt Rika's presence from afar. Everyone tensed and looked in the same direction you were as the Tokyo participants came.

There were some really loud 2nd and 3rd years, but the one that stood out was a rather reserved boy with black hair. He had a Katana bag hooked over one shoulder. And a massive curse looming over him. ‘How is that thing not exorcised yet?!’

"Yooooo Everyone from Kyoto hello!!"

That voice. Your eye twitched. "Nice to meet you all again." Gojo Satoru cheerily yelled. Introductions were exchanged. The group challenge on the first day is Capture the Flag. The details for the individual battles tomorrow are yet to be announced.

Everyone was surprised to hear that the first year, Okkotsu Yuuta, the special grade cursed human, was participating to even out the numbers.

Based on that amount of cursed energy…. Tokyo school might win this year, you thought grimly. 'As long as there are no casualties please.' You prayed to yourself. You wished Noritoshi good luck with a quick hug.

After the participants were dismissed and released to their positions, the Kyoto 1st year's followed the two principals and Utahime sensei.

"Neko-chaaaan! How cruel, you don't wanna greet me?" His damn voice was so fucking loud everyone in the vicinity turned to Satoru.

(His nickname for you was cute but the story wasn't. When you were 4 years old, the Tsuchi family cat always ran away from you. You tried to be more catlike to befriend it, which Satoru found hilarious. Ergo, he started calling you Cat or Neko chan.)

Your eye twitched again as always does with Satoru. "Toru nii, it's been a while." You said, looking at the man leering down at your figure. He pulled you in for a side hug and ruffled your hair. "I missed you loads, it's been a while huh. How's school?"

"Not too bad." You fixed and patted your hair back down, aware of the eyes on you.

"Mmm, I bet." His bright blue [six] eyes could see the red strings linking your pinky to Noritoshi's. "You got a boyfriend by any chance y/n?"

You stopped at that and looked up at him. "Did Hiroki tell you anything?" "Nup" he always pops his P's obnoxiously.

You looked to the side and murmured "I do."

"You have a boyf-ooms" You slapped your hand over his mouth, floating up to his height. You could practically see his blue eyes gleaming behind those white bandages. "Keep your voice down dimwit." You hissed.

He licked your hand. "You're gross as always Toru," you wiped it on his sleeve as you walked on air to match his height.

"You should have told me you got a boyfriend. Anywayss, my students are gonna kick ass. Yuuta is pretty strong and he's the type to go all out you know?" He nudged you.

"Noritoshi and the senpais won't go down without a fight." You said. “Heehhh, is that so?”

You caught up a bit with him, making small talk as you made your way to the viewing rooms.

◇◇◇

Miwa later pulled you aside, "You know Gojo Satoru?! Isn't he, like, super famous?!"

"Uhhh?? He is?? … uhm I don't know. But we are family friends, he's like a brother to me really." You said confusedly. "The Tsuchimikado and Gojo clans always got along. His dad and my dad are friends."

"Ahhh I see." She nodded. She was still unfamiliar with the Great 3 clans and minor clans of Jujutsushi so it was understandable for her to be curious.

The rest of you filed into the room. The teachers allowed all of you to watch on the screens, so that you can get familiar with the goodwill event.

"Psst! Y/n sit beside me." You laughed as Satoru eagerly patted the seat beside him, sounding more like a teenager than a teacher. You scooted over to his side as he brought out snacks, chips, and popcorn. You stared at him. "You think this is a movie?"

"It's free entertainment." He shrugged.

And the event started. You all watched on the screens as both schools fought against curses while defending their home base flag and trying to take down the enemy's flag.

Todo, of course, was on the front lines, recklessly plowing into Tokyo high's home base. Hakari, a 3rd year, was facing him off, somehow holding his ground against him.

Noritoshi was following Momo around, taking down curses and stopping the other team's students from charging in.

But before they knew it, Yuuta was on the other side, flag in his hands. It wasn't a quick match but a rather rough one. At the very least, no one was injured badly.

Your eyes watched Okkotsu’s movements. It was very obvious he was new to fighting, but his brute force of cursed energy played well to his strengths. You were looking forward to tomorrow's matches.

Blood Bound: Table of Contents

[sweetestlamb]

Leave the Door Open

Summary: He doesn’t hate having someone in his house. Having her in his house but he knows he should.

Author Notes: Vincenzo was a roller coaster this weekend and I LOVED it every adrenaline filled, angst inducing moment of it all. They are pining in 4K and I had to write this. I am salivating waiting for their first kiss. I hope it’s crazy and impulsive and filled with ineedyouithoughtilostyou energy, it might be cliché but I am a simple woman. Until then I present more domestic(sometimes horny) Chayenzo moments this was very freeform I went in with nothing and just let my brain go crazy. There’s some angst again LOL oops

It’s unnervingly easy to get used to, having another person in his space despite his years of solitude and purposely pushing others away. Women had tried to sleep over before, sweat clinging to their naked skin as they coyly brushed a finger under the sheet trying to entice him to let them stay. It never worked. Not once. Sex was one thing- he loved being in control and hearing his name breathless on their lips as they writhed and screamed on his silk sheets- but sleeping over was a completely different animal and he was never stupid enough to give them that much leeway. It was dangerous for them to think this was something more than it was, he had an itch and they could scratch it. There were no feelings involved, at least from his end. 

So when she showed up on his doorsteps and the urge to drag her into his arms overwhelmed him that should have been his first warning, danger danger do not proceed. 

But she pushed past him before he could close the door in her face and unfortunately at the same moment he had a spasm in his hand and hesitated for just one second allowing her enough time to bulldoze her way into his apartment. He had contemplated kicking her still out but the look on her face stopped him in his tracks, she looked scared- ridiculously so. Even as she stuttered out nonsense about the suspicious hoteliers who wanted to harm her and made a show of swinging her bag as she told the story of the man breaking the lock on her hotel room, he could see the slight tremble in her fingers. 

She was always a lightning rod of energy but that night it had been different. Her movements had been panicked and the urge to protect her overrode his self preservation. 

It was a clear erroneous mistake on his part. 

She’s comfortable around him, that much becomes clear all too fast when he wakes up to her swaying in the kitchen over a boiling pot on the stove- some kind of soup, he can smell the aroma of miso wafting across the room- but what catches his attention is her clothes, or lack of. 

There is miles and miles of bare skin from his angle on the ground, her loose sleep shorts barely covering her legs and he raises an eyebrow as he takes in the top half of her body. Her wet hair drips onto the flowing pristine white shirt that is peeking out from beneath a cardigan. She’s taken a shower. Just moments ago, she had been naked in his shower, water cascading down her slim body curving over her breasts and sliding down her flat stomach in long slow streams until it reached her wet....

“Oh you’re awake! I made soup, let’s eat before work.” She brightly calls out to him, using his ragged oven mittens to transfer the steaming pot over to the low rising table in the center of his tiny living room. 

His eyes savor her every move as she flounces over to him in that annoying way that he is starting to find cute. She carefully folds her legs beneath her bottom as she joins him on the ground, her smooth makeup free face coming into his line of vision. He’d always assumed that it was her lip tint making her mouth so red and plush and so goddamn alluring, but even bare the twin petals are too much for his sleep laden brain to handle. He sits up curling his blanket in his lap, balling up the material to better hide his little morning problem. He almost hopes this is a dream, it wouldn’t be the first time she visited him in one. They usually ended in sinuous screams and naked limbs twisting but sometimes they were like this, just simple moments that made him wake up with an ache in his chest. Those dreams terrified him the most. 

“Yah! Are you listening to anything I’m saying?” Her voice cuts through the arousal thick fog in his brain, light pats on his cheek rousing him from his untoward thoughts. “What are you thinking about anyway? Why are you so distracted?” Her eyes narrow as she glances at him, slowly descending down his body almost reaching his groin and he flushes red coughing loudly before quickly moving closer to the table, hiding his lap entirely from her wandering eyes. 

Their eyes meet in a tense lock and she looks curious and something darker that he has been seeing in her eyes the more they work together. He watches swallowing a groan as she leisurely licks her lips chasing the drops of soup that have escaped. 

They don’t have time for this. There is so much to do and a part of him fears that she is using him as a distraction because she’s scared about her break-in, despite his constant warnings it had been her first real experience with how far Babel was willing to go to silence them, the first time she was in the line of fire. He had been her “hero” and that was evidently confusing her, making her think he was something better than he was. Contrary to the lie he had cowardly told her, he was nothing but a murderer. Once she saw him for what he truly was, she would want nothing to do with him- she was still a good person after all underneath her armor and brazen attitude. 

He wants her and that is exactly why he can’t have her. 

Those thoughts knock any desire promptly out of his body, he couldn’t forget that he wasn’t worthy of love. 

Problem finally resolved he stands up, “Sorry I’m not a morning person. I need to use the bathroom, thank you for the breakfast. I’ll be back.” He can feel her eyes on him the entire way to the bathroom, those huge doe-like eyes that make him want to be a better man, but surely it’s too late for someone like him. 

Right? 

They had separated after work, him meeting up with Mr. Cho secretly to discuss the fate of the gold, it was another long conversation that left them with more complications rather than solutions and he can see the frustration on the other man’s face. He will have to keep an eye on that in case it becomes something problematic. 

Something he has to handle, regrettably. 

He yanks at the stiff ball of his necktie loosening it as he pushes his key into the lock and presses the door open, he hears her laughter before he sees her almost tripping on her black high heels carelessly discarded at the door. He pauses with a rumble, “First she breaks into my house and now she almost kills me at my own front door,” with a sigh he straightens the shoes, slipping off his own and stepping into his house slippers. 

His heart lurches at the first sight of her, she’s wrapped up in the blanket he had placed around her quivering shoulders the night of the break in, only her head visible from the swaddle. She’s watching some variety show he has never watched but knows is popular here, a can of beer thankfully on a coaster on the table and too many empty bottles of soju. She turns to look at him when she senses his presence, that also disarms him because he is a man who can go undetected if he pleases and he had not made a sound upon his entry, yet she still knew he was here. 

Then she makes him weak in the knees when she shoots a soft smile his way, her rosy lips slightly upturned but its the glow in her eyes that captivates him, those dark orbs come to life when they land on him as if they were waiting for him to flush with life and vibrancy. 

“You’re home!” She calls out, still beaming at him and he stands frozen in the line of fire. She casually pats the cushion next to her, motioning him over as high pitched loud voices patter out from his TV. 

Home. He has hardly ever used that word himself, long given up on the idea of having a place to call home. But seeing her like this, a fire that had been snuffed out a long time ago starts to rekindle, a desire he had long suppressed starts to bubble back to the surface. 

I should leave. 

He thinks foolishly, but he finds himself walking over to her, skin pebbling when a warm small hand reaches out and drags him the rest of the way from his suspended form.  

“What took you so long? Why didn’t you answer my calls? I wanted you to get us some soju.” She snuggles into his arm as if this is normal for them, and with an urgent awakening he realizes that it is. Constant and casual touches flash in his memory, his hand on her shoulder as he escorts her way, her hands on his back as she carries his intoxicated body, arms wrapped around each other as they walk away from the scum that is Babel. His hands always find her body as if it’s a heat seeking missile and not once has she pushed him away, on contrary she moves into his touches and returns them just as frequently. As if they belong to each other, as if they are each other’s to touch. 

What game exactly are they playing? 

He has never lost before but suddenly it feels like his defeat is imminent. 

“You already drank all the soju in the fridge? Are you an alcoholic? Should I have you admitted?” He grumbles trying to diffuse the situation but she chuckles at his words, resting her head on his shoulder now as she peers up at him with glossy eyes. His control wavers, fluttering like a flag in the wind. 

“After everything I’ve done that’s the thing you want to get me admitted for?” She teases giggling into his collarbone and her breath ignites a flame on his skin that spreads like wildfire. “Oh. Why are you so red?” 

He jolts up, only feeling marginally guilty when she falls head first onto the couch with his sudden disappearance. When she glares up at him he has to smother a smile at the cute affronted look on her face, he is a mafia member he shouldn’t use words like “cute” but he’s constantly breaking his rules because of her. 

He escapes to his bedroom, surprisingly pigeon feather free the window securely closed for once and he looks back towards the living room with a smile, she was full of surprises. With a groan he pops his shoulder, letting the day’s tension melt away as he takes off his suit piece by piece, breathing easier when he unknots the tie and tosses it to his bed. When he is down to his boxers, he ambles over to his dresser taking out his silk pajamas- she loved to tease him about them but after running a sneaky hand over his arm, she has admitted that they felt nice on your skin- he had desperately wanted her to keep going. Dragging the bottoms on first he slides on the top, fingers on the top button when his bedroom door bursts open making him still his movement. 

“Oh, I forgot to tell you that I ordered fried chicken that’s why I needed soj...nnngghh” her words trail off into nonsense as she sputters at him, eyes immediately locked on the lower half of his body and he almost laughs at her wide eyed stare before she walks closer, a hand outreached as she penetrates his skin with her unblinking stare. He can see the red blush spread across her bridge of her nose and he wonders if it’s from the alcohol she has consumed or if it’s something else? 

She answers his questions with another step toward him, unflinching beneath his hard stare and he instinctively recoils, stepping back out of her reach but she double steps until they are inches apart, her fingertips hovering above his abs and then she closes the distance, stroking the ridges on his stomach making him groan, unable to contain the deep sound and he grabs her hand. 

He can’t let his go any further. 

“What are you doing? Haven’t you heard of knocking? What if I was naked?” 

The blush covers her face completely at his words and he watches fascinated as her pupils dilate and a hungry look flashes across her pretty face. 

She doesn’t look scandalized at the idea. He has seen that look many times. From her, more times than he wants to confront. 

“Cha-young.” He states her name firmly, making her eyes snap away from his body at least this time she looks ashamed of herself for ogling him, but not tremendously so. It’s not lost on him that she hasn’t tried to leave the room once. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”  

It’s a warning. For both of them really. 

It can tell by the twitch in her eyebrow she sees it as a challenge, without a word she grabs him by his shoulder tugging him closer until they are flush, her soft breasts pressing into his firm stomach and he groans when he realizes he can feel the flesh too vividly, she’s not wearing bra. Fuck. 

“Who said I couldn’t finish it?” She retorts peering up at him with those gleaming eyes, too many emotions swirling around for him to pinpoint what is the driving force behind her actions.

His arms wrap around her waist, bringing her closer despite there being no room felt to do so. She moans prettily at his tight grip swaying unevenly into him. 

She’s drunk. 

He suddenly recalls all the empty bottles of soju on the table and he loosens his hold, he refuses to take advantage of her no matter how willing she seems right now, it’s the alcohol distorting her thoughts. He releases her waist and puts his hands between them. 

“You aren’t in your right mind right now, we should stop.” 

She shakes her head disagreeing, “I got drunk because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. The alcohol didn’t make me want you, it made me do something about it.” 

He blinks at the comment feeling like her words are intoxicating him. His thoughts are incoherent. 

“I know you want me too. Don’t push me away.” She pleads and he feels his resolve crumbling as he watches her bite at her lower lip, wringing her hands between them. She seems...nervous. Scared of his rejection. 

It’s not fitting on the Cha-young he has grown to know and l...like. 

With a sigh he steps forward much to her apparent shock, wrapping his arms around her in an awkward hug, complete with too rough pats on her back and he wonders if he did the right thing when she stands frozen in his arms but then she laughs brokenly before sniffling and burrowing her head into his chest. He can feel the wetness pooling on his skin, he hugs her tighter ignoring the voice in his head warning him that he’s letting her get too close.

it’s already much too late anyway. 

He lets her cry on him until he hears admittedly gross sniffles and he starts to fear for his skin, tears are one thing but mucus is another. He might like her but there is still a line, snot is his line. 

Thankfully, when he drags her away from him her nose isn’t running, just large tears streaming down her face. Looking at that face, he would probably allow her to drip snot on him; she looks so pitiful- it’s probably the first time she has allowed herself to feel her emotions and not put on a brave front for him. 

He longs to tell her that it isn’t necessary, ever. He doesn’t need her to put on a show, he will accept her no matter what there is no version of her that isn’t perfectly imperfect in his eyes. 

But he can never say those words to her. 

“Let me put my shirt on and I’ll meet you in the living room.” He pushes her lightly, playfully glaring and shooing her away when she doesn’t immediately leave taking one final moment to ogle his body. He tries not to preen and fails horribly, it’s hard not to when the woman he wants so badly clearly wants him too- at least physically. 

She whispers something that sounds like, “You don't have to,” and he raises an eyebrow watching her leave finally, with a long suffering sigh he stares down at his overly interested friend willing it away before dragging on his shirt. 

it’s going to be a long night. 

He can smell the delicious aroma of fried chicken when he finally exits the bedroom, she offers a leg to him as soon as he’s close enough and he easily accepts the food with a bite, letting her feed him until all that remains is the bone. 

“You eat so well.” She praises and he flushes in embarrassment at her words, or more accurately at the feeling that swells up in his stomach at her deceptively maternal words. Unaware of his thoughts she continues feeding him until the food is all gone and she is looking at him with a satisfied grin. 

He tries not to become too excited when she licks the grease from her fingers, before putting the bones on a plate. 

“Here, have some wine. The storekeeper said it was popular in Italy.” 

She places the rounded curve of the wine glass at his lip and he inhales the intoxicating scent, Barolo, he can already smell the sweetness of the Nebbiolo grapes that have been long fermenting, it’s not a cheap bottle of wine or easy to acquire, not even for him while living in their country of origin. She must have looked all over to find that particular brand here in Korea. 

He stares at her with a softness he has never felt for another, not even her late father. This is bigger and more consuming, the respect he felt for the man seems to pale in comparison to the bundle of emotions he feels for his daughter. 

“Thank you.” 

She simply stares, before returning his gaze and he accepts the wine glass by the stem tipping the deep colored liquid into his mouth, flavors dancing on his taste buds and he moans freely at the delicious taste. 

They are already sitting closely, too much so for just coworkers but she moves nearer at his subconscious response, their knees knock into each other. 

“Is it that good?” She whispers breathless, staring at his mouth. Again. 

He nods dumbly, freezing when he feels her hand on his thigh. 

“Let me see.” 

He watches in a daze as she leans closer to him, his eyes following her face as she draws nearer and then he closes his eyes, tired of fighting this magnetic connection between them, he’s only a man and a bad one at that, he’s not good enough to keep pushing her away. He waits impatiently to feel the swell of her lips on his and blinks his eyes open when he feels a sudden weight on the wine glass instead, her lips curl around the ridge where his lips had just been. Taking his hand in hers, she lifts the glass and tilts it back into her mouth swallowing the liquid in a deep gulp before she pushes it back towards him, with a loud smack of her lips before moving back to her spot on the cushion. 

“Mmmmm, you’re right that’s really good.” 

His tongue is heavy in his mouth and his brain isn’t functioning well enough to give a response beyond staring at her with his mouth gaped. 

“What’s wrong were you expecting something else? Did I get your hopes up? It’s not nice is it? ” She teases obnoxiously tsking at him body loose on the arm rest opposite of him and he knows exactly what she’s alluding to, recalls her face as he had leaned across the small space of the car. She hadn’t looked scandalized in that moment either. 

No, she looked ready to risk it all. He was the coward who couldn’t risk anything. 

He leans back with a huff, folding his arms. 

“I guess it’s true, revenge is a dish best served cold. Do you feel good about yourself?” He pushes his lips out, not pouting whatsoever. 

Mafia men don’t pout. 

She snickers from the left of him, poking at this cheek gleefully. 

“Oh my god, are you pouting? You big baby! You did it to me first!” 

He has no argument to that so he doesn’t refute the claim, he just silently glares at the tv not hearing anything despite the volume being quite loud. 

“Next time let’s both be brave enough to finish what we started.” 

He turns to look at her, blinded by the hopeful smile on her face. 

Maybe he’s wrong and it’s more than physical for her too. 

If that’s true, then he needs to sever this bond sooner rather than later. 

He doesn’t reply to her, drinking more wine to occupy his mouth and she doesn’t push him, humming before turning her attention back to the tv. 

He collects all her different laughs while they watch the mindless show, the soft giggles and the full body guffaws that make her slap his knee and spill over into his space, her long hair thrown across his lap. He gives up on stopping her and finds himself smiling at her joy, offering her water when she starts to choke from laughing too hard. He pats her back and rubs her until she can speak easily again, she’s seriously a hazard to herself and he tells her as much. 

She cheekily replies, “That’s why I need you then, you’re my Italian hero.” 

He refutes that claim but he knows that she’s right, he would destroy anyone who tried to harm one hair on her head. 

Moments later when he hears her light snores, he turns the tv off and makes to stand up and put some much needed distance between them but she halts him with a gentle plea, “Don’t leave me alone please.” 

He stills at her words, staring at her closed eyes praying that she’s dreaming about someone else. That those words aren’t for him, he doesn’t know if he’s strong enough to ignore her appeal. 

When her head falls heavily on his shoulder again, her body distractingly warm pressed against his own he knows he should push her away it’s the only way they can both get out of this unscathed. 

But his decision making is all but obliterated, so he stupidly leans his head onto hers, deeply inhaling the sweet vanilla of her shampoo instead, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her closer, dragging the blanket over both their bodies, silencing his heart when it jumps at her easily molding into him and softly murmuring his name from deep slumber, “Vincenzo.” 

Just for tonight, he will let himself have this. 

One night only. 

It’s all he can afford. 

[captainkurosolaire]

Prompt #27 ~ Warfare

♫Till I Die♫

The fall of Garlemald's effects ran-through out the realm suddenly the shift of power had been flipped over. As many of the countrymen deserted, or those scattered, were pursued. Now they understood what it was like to be the spoils to war. Hunter's turned to prey. A privateer ship supporting under the banner of the Crimson. Chased pursued in the open seas of an attempted escape, a remnant squadron. Their division shattered as their Empire was crumbling to dust. The divisional commander of her ship was taking huge mortar's although the sea-vessel was sturdy and advanced, was taking blows, her men were taking hefty causalities, hearing in screams. They couldn't flee from this. In the fang's of revenge, under the skies of war, monsters were born. The people who once felt were fighting for righteousness, become no-better. These Privateer's were rejoicing. "Commander. Two more alliance accompanying vessels of the opposition have ascended over waves, we've nowhere to go!" The morale of her people were descending. "We've deserved this outcome. It was an honor." Her sentimental tone, spoke they'd rather imperial salute each-other, and commit suicide before becoming prisoners. Right in their contemplated end. The shift was about to turn again.

"A third vessel had wedged between the middle of their reinforcements!" Was shortly called out, giving them further, resolve of hopelessness, before... "Wait. The middle-vessel is bombarding the others!" Suddenly a massive ship rising over tides, removing the fake red Maelstrom banner had been withdrawn into an iconic pirate flag hoisted. Upon the bow-spirit was a tricorne-man. Treading past the destruction of two smaller privateers vessels. The ambush assault left them fodder out-maneuvered. Gathered man, etched in warpaint, they were banned ready for a fight. To intervene between this naval battle. The Seeker leapt back to his decks to bolster. "I would ask ye my Crew, within my helm. T' PRAY for yer enemies. Give them an early moment of silence. For these poor unfortunate soul's will b' educated, they'll earn their red-coats upon this Sun!" He roared and screamed with a warrior shout That followed behind others. "Give Boy-Lad his sea-legs. Let him earn his stripes t' walk over bones!" A crippled and amputated legless fighter crawled on the floor in disbelief, as Sol made augmented prosthetic legs. Unified chaos positioned, to invade the vessel of the privateer from behind. "Aid th' carrier of Garlean's, give all others no-quarter!" Viciously a stampede of leaps was drawn, it was anarchy. Projectiles flung back and forth, sniper shots from the crow's nest of the Worldly Finder started picking off them. Each Crewmate nearly about to be butchered by an opposition was protected by another, they fought as sword and shield, and reversed the roles. Rallied by a leader who was believed-long-flung dead. The brute Seeker skirmishes an assortment of parries to one of the swashbucklers before pulling out a sheathed revolver in the other hand and angling it under his chin and pulling the trigger in a massacre. Completely butchery. Blood of not his own making savagely drew over his face. As he bellowed another victoriously battle-cry that kept even his own injuries gaining on Crew to fight-on. The Garlean's left their hunker, to unity in bewilderment anyone would fight under their behalf. The Captain was almost executed by an aimed shot musketeer but was shot back by an assault rifle of the imperialist. The buccaneer brought terrifying laughter. "THEIR NUMBERS ONLY GIVE US MORE HEADS T' ROLL!" Not only bolstering morality to his own fighters, but also was making hesitation and fear start wearying the grip's of his oppositions, a tactician of dirty behavior. How long have they gotten to do anything they wanted? Or used the excuse of the Garlemald for them to justify or blame their heinous antics? These seas held no discrimination. Yet being constantly corrupted. Putrid borders, barriers for entries, they started skewering Beast Tribes because they strictly took advantage of the Calamity. They put a price-tag on the seas, owning it. Law and restricting and it's no different than what Captain's seen before, they're vindictive and greed-coated. Yet unlike Garlemald who were openly wanting to conqueror, the Maelstrom and Grand Companies alike played fantasy pretend. They're unbeatable, the good! Couldn't do any wrongs, existed of no poison. Bullshit, in war there was no such thing. It's a contest of ego. How many times had the Captain seen a Maelstrom get promoted after they violated his kinsmen, while preaching they were pirates... How many times did he watch them do nothing as people plead in the dirty-alleys before a gal went abducted and missing. These seas would find freedom from vile. Disarray and unorganized, suddenly being attacked by two-sides, the privateer's were being annihilated. Counter measured every-time they brought their marine scholars out, their magic was cancelled by the Historian of the Goldbrand, the purest faith in the Twelve, who brought them no harm, other than silencing their spells. The God's weren't on their side, they belonged to this pirate. That fiendish outcast hound of an Xaela, who ghoulishly shrieked, was feasting on arm's while slewing them in beheaded messes. A Quartermaster

followed by impaling them and hurling the smaller runt's of the enemies. Captain leapt up off that mountain of a Hellsguard on his Crew and bounced off his shoulders dexterously onto the stern. Exchanging in runaways some jumping overboard. "Draw them from th' seas back up here! Their corpses is unworthy t' share with the benthos!" Angry swarming came to their noisy vocalized leader. If they could just behead that blasted vermin then all of them would crumble to despair. He played defensively and evaded one of them about to slayed, was sniped from afar. The handicapped soldier got a puncturing stab on one of the men to protect his Captain before collapsing as his new leg's were already damaged and punctured. The Seeker picked up the adrenaline as blood cut's were protruding from his cheek. He threw his coat onto one of them and jabbed a series of quick deft dirks. A swishing blade came again as he relied on his above-feline scents. The thing he was mocked for by these giants. Doing a handstand leg, disarm from twisting the wrist of the deathly aggressor. The Seeker rolled away and jumped off the stern and swung a leap into the cabin, where he saw the frantic Head-Captain of this enemy helm, run-into, gathering up belongings to attempt plotting retreat. Unexpectedly a flintlock shot at his leg making him fall over all his glistening golds and gil he was trying to rummage into a burlap sack like a coward trying to recollect himself. He brought his own gun out but was disarmed by the wrist from another firearm shot, "Cap'n Daniwyrn... Ye have lost your sense. Recall me." These two knew each-other full and well, this was more than just a one-sided squabble, now. It held harboring emotion. "...Yer supposed t' b' blimey dead!" The callus blood-thirsty Seeker lowered his arm. "Dead is what ye did t' someone I loved. Well, I got yer message. Ye saw t' remove her head cause she moved t' me. If you couldn't have her, neither ov' us could." He lectured in all this chaos-warfare and took a menacing seat. "See, I am not here for revenge on you. This goes beyond that. Now, ye made a crime, sin I find very offensive..." The sea-wolf tried regaining himself while trying to also slowly scoot his bottom and get back his disarmed gun. Knowing was about to be sentenced to a horrific death, or believed. "You have tainted these seas, Daniwyrn. The punishment fer losing your sense. Is crueler than death by my hand. It's t' live as such." He shot the ear's respectively of the privateer. Then the Seeker stood up. Fiendishly brought out his coeurl toothed carved dagger and carved out eye to eye from his enemy. While he was screaming in anguish and incomprehensible pain never able to reel back. He cut that tongue like a fleeting ribbon.

Taking the senses of someone who lacked senses firstly. A fitting treatment, barbarically exercised. He bathed in all the blood over his inferior feline frame. "I know you can't hear me, see, nor speak, though I'm also a nice-guy, I'll leave ye with yer gun... if get the opportunity you should kill yourself." He'd savagely trail, beating his enemy who barely was functioning, stuck in a haze, discombobulated, suffering severe blood-loss. Loading and priming the revolver with one bullet, he'd force it into the arm's of his blind foe and make him squeeze it. Captain walked out as if this was just a regular circumstance. The duty of returning. Closing the cabin door. Hearing a procedure gun-shot ring-throughout. A signal was overhead horned, "They've got more crimson reinforcements!" The battle sizzled and the sparks were over. "Let us gather up, plunder post-haste. Burn this shite down." They took the Garlemald survivors and retreated, licking wounds but won victorious.

[kitkatopinions]

The sad thing is that Blake's most healthiest option romance wise is someone who gives her space and willing to let her go. Sun fits this description perfectly. But they went with a codependent toxic relationship partially held together by guilt in which one side is clearly submissive and the other too worried and insecure.

Yeah, tbh, the send off to Sun at the start of volume six made me think they would pick up the relationship where it left off eventually for a couple different reasons, but one of them was this reason.

I want to preface this post by saying that A. I don’t really like Bumblebee and I don’t need a reason to dislike it even though I have reason to dislike it, B. I’ve shipped BlackSun from Sun’s first introduction, and C. also I’m coming at this as someone who has been in a co-dependent relationship, so all three of those things means I’m naturally a little biased. I’m not pretending this is all a super objective, impersonal interpretation. This is just me talking honestly about my thoughts towards a ship I don’t like. Bees, I’m sorry if this shows up in your tags, Tumblr is being screwy and I’m not trying to rain on anyone else’s posts. I’m using filterables and putting this under a keep reading to try and make it easier for Bumblebee fans to not see this.

I had - when I saw season six’s opening ep - given the show mad props for writing a romance driven relationship where the partners didn’t have to stay together all the time to still care about each other and be secure. It felt like the perfect move to me to get some distance between their characters while firmly establishing that Sun had never done the things he’d done ‘to win the girl,’ and didn’t consider himself ‘letting Blake go.’ Sun not only being willing to spend this time away from Blake, but to not even need it really said, and to have his own stuff he needed to do as well... All of that felt like a healthy, independent relationship. I don’t mean to get personal on main, but I’ve been in a relationship where I felt partially responsible for my partner’s happiness and he tried to do things like keep me from my friends or guilt me into things. I ignored the red flags because our relationship was important to me, but it made me feel pretty unhappy because I was always worried that if I didn’t do the things he wanted, he would get upset and over-react, and put himself down until I built him back up, and if we didn’t spend the majority of our time together, he would start talking about feeling like I didn’t really care that much about him and how lonely he felt. This was really exhausting to me, especially since I’m an introvert.

Sun always seemed like such a good partner for Blake because he was always so self-possessed, so confident in who he was already, independent and happy and accepting of Blake’s independence. Sun was always there for Blake, but he also was the one usually pushing her towards interacting with others too, they were able to go do separate things and even go on completely different missions with confidence and without drama. For a character who had previously been in a destructive, possessive, controlling, abusive relationship, it had seemed like a scene that clearly established Blake and Sun’s relationship as one where Sun wasn’t expecting Blake to stay with him all the time, respected her goals and her independence, and had his own life and his own friends too. I had kind of just assumed that the choice to have Sun leave the group and go to Vacuo was to further their relationship. Upon rewatching the scene later now that I know that the writers were already starting to try to implement Bumbleby, I can see how the show writers might’ve been intending that scene to be an amiable goodbye where Sun confirms to Neptune that they aren’t actually an item with his ‘it was never about that.’ But I just have to shake my head, because I was giving the writers credit for something they didn’t do.

Instead, they were trying to tie off the relationship between Sun and Blake by having him leave, not cementing Blake’s independence and Sun’s encouragement of that (and they tied it off badly imo because Blake freakin’ kissed the boy lol.) And once they had Sun leave, they started setting Blake up with Yang. I want to clarify that there’s nothing wrong with the writers deciding to go with Blake x Yang, and the ship itself was not a totally baseless one. I’m personally disappointed that one of my favorite RWBY ships isn’t going to be endgame, and I personally don’t like the idea of Blake and Yang as a couple. But my problem isn’t really with the ship itself, it’s with how the show writers have chosen to write the ship in execution.

Getting past the queerbaitery nature of Bumblebee as a ship, the choices surrounding Blake and Yang seem faulty on both sides (which I also think is important to remember. I’ve seen loads of people recognizing that Bumblebee as written in the show is destructive to Blake, but I’ve seen much fewer people talk about how it’s not the best for Yang too.)

Let’s start from the fact that Blake is an abuse victim. She was previously in a relationship with Adam and talks about his destructive and violent behavior. Blake has a really hard time trusting people because of how Adam had acted. He was explosive, manipulative, and he got angry at and hurt Blake specifically for leaving him. The last thing Blake would need is a relationship where she feels personally responsible for the stability of another person. The last thing she needs is to be pressured into staying with someone. The last thing she needs is to be expected to be with that person without the option of ever working with others. The last thing she needs is to be in a relationship where she can’t be apart from someone even temporarily without that person getting anxious and insecure or without having to feel guilty and like she did something wrong.

And yet the show has her in a relationship with someone that has abandonment issues. The show has her promise to stay with Yang in a moment of huge trauma, Blake crying out a desperate denial to the accusations of the abusive ex who had made her life hell, after he tried to again separate her from anyone she loved and she was forced to kill someone she had once deeply cared about. It was also a really weird choice of the writers to have the characters respond to a question over if they’d ever thought about working with other partners with dismissive and cold behavior as if the very idea was somehow wrong (especially since Yang spent quite a bit of time pre-volume six working with Weiss and Blake spent so much of her time working with Sun.) And the writers chose to frame Blake and Yang leaving on temporary separate missions in volume eight to result in insecurity and anxiety from Yang and guilt for Blake. On top of that, Yang is a person with a strong temper and aggressive tendencies. Although she seemed to be trying to work through those problems in seasons four and five, Yang backslid and seems just as controlled by her anger and her insecurities as her volume 2 self now, who had lashed out at Blake and angrily pushed her for not listening in ‘burning the candle.’

As for Yang, she lost her mom when she was very young (Ruby was a toddler,) and her dad temporarily shut down after that. She soon found out her biological mom had left her when she was a baby and spent her whole life wondering why while her uncle spent that time flitting in and out of her life and taking on dangerous missions - the same types of missions that had killed the woman who had raised Yang for the first part of her life. Yang has deep seeded fears of being abandoned and losing her loved ones, and she also has a history of trying to take care of and support the people around her even at her own personal expense. While Yang’s more selfless moments in season five - like giving up her dream of getting answers from Raven to follow and protect Ruby even when she clearly wasn’t wholly healed from her trauma - are admirable, what Yang absolutely doesn’t need in a partner is someone who she feels like she has to protect and save and sacrifice for. What Yang absolutely doesn’t need in a partner is someone she feels like she can’t rely on to be there for her. What she doesn’t need in a partner is someone who can’t give her stability or struggles to trust her. What she doesn’t need in a partner is someone who won’t call her out when she goes a little too far. And yet the writers chose to put Yang with someone who runs on the regular, the only member of their team who thought Yang might be lying about Mercury, someone who needs time and distance when Yang clearly needs someone who is consistent and present. And then the writers made it so that Yang and Blake spend very little time with anyone else. The writers made it so that they can’t be apart without guilt and anxieties.

And you guys, Blake in seasons 6-8 feels so needy. She’s consistently in need of saving, consistently doesn’t stand for herself, seems like she needs a lot of reassurance in her relationship, she’s consistently waiting for other people to make moves, etc. Even when Blake convinces Yang to divulge top secret information to Robyn, when Ironwood confronts them about it, Blake backs up and leaves Yang to explain their actions. In the early seasons, it feels like Yang cares more about their friendship than Blake does and that she’s putting in more effort, which don’t get me wrong, makes total sense since Blake had just gotten out of an abusive relationship and Yang’s clear anger problems (and her using a laser pointer to try and force Blake to talk to her,) might’ve made Blake hesitant to get close to or open up to Yang. But while it no longer feels like Yang cares more, it still feels like Yang puts in more work. Yang is constantly reassuring, protecting, comforting, and stepping up for Blake, while Blake is so passive and acts so dependent that I personally can’t help but feel like Yang must be exhausted. Yang needs stability and reassurance too, Yang needs a partner she can talk to and rely on to be there. When the writers did write Blake as trying to comfort and take care of Yang, it was way too much and had undertones of ableism. And I know, I know they had this ‘we’re taking care of each other’ moment when they were fighting Adam, but that’s just what we were told for one scene, and not what we’ve actually seen in their relationship.

The worst thing is that it didn’t need to be that way. Bumbleby could’ve been a really good ship that built on their foundation. Blake used to be an independent, brave, strong, active character. Blake stood up for herself to Weiss, told Ozpin to his face that he needed to do more for the Faunus, used to have a great, creative fighting style, used to be this sassy girl who’d banter with Sun and with Yang and when she did start opening up to Yang, it was a great way to start evolving their characters to be a strong relationship. In V3 when Blake admitted that she had doubts about Yang due to her past experiences with Adam, but opened herself up and decided to trust Yang anyway when Yang looked her in the eyes and told her sincerely exactly what had happened... That was so great and it really showed off the dynamic the two of them were starting to adapt. CRWBY might’ve immediately separated the two, but A. Seasons four and most of season five had great set up for them to work through their problems and then continue to grow that great dynamic we started seeing in the first three seasons. And B. their respective arcs continued their growth as characters even apart from each other. While I wish that RWBY had let the two work some of this out together, the growth that we were getting did make them more suited for each other. I’ll always ship BlackSun. But Yang getting a hold on her emotions, maturing, starting to work through her abandonment issues, and displaying just what a caring, honest person she was, at the same time that Blake was working through her past and her fears, learning to let people in, strengthening her resolve, and coming into her own as a leader... Come on, those two characters could’ve easily developed a good, healthy, strong, independent relationship and I’m legitimately sad that’s not what we got, especially since we sacrificed so much of Blake’s personality to get a worse ship.

I don’t even know what to say about it, tbh. Idk what else the writers expected us to think with how they wrote things. I’ve heard before that there was probably a cut scene in volume eight that included Yang and Blake fighting (which would then justify Yang and Blake’s reactions when they reunited,) and I do believe that, but the writers chose not to include it, and that made them look worse as a couple. Just like they chose not to include a scene where Blake and Yang work through the problem of Blake having left Yang without a word of explanation at the end of Volume 3. And they didn’t include a scene where Blake explains herself and Yang realizes that maybe she was being a little shortsighted about the trauma Blake had also gone through. And they didn’t include a scene where Blake actually learned that she didn’t have to protect or take care of Yang in volume six. And they haven’t included a scene where Blake puts just as much effort into their relationship as Yang does. And they didn’t include a scene where the two make it clear that they’re fine being apart. If anything, CRWBY has established the opposite, and it isn’t enough to just say that they’re taking care of each other, when they don’t show that to be the case. 

Sun being not only willing to let Blake be with others, go her own way, and be her own person, but encouraging of that, made him a very compelling romantic prospect for her. Unfortunately I just don’t see that with Blake and Yang. Their relationship feels co-dependent, and maybe it’s just my personal experience talking and making me chafe, but I personally just don’t like it.

However, fans have been queerbaited long enough. So personal opinions aside, CRWBY give Bumblebee some confirmation you fucking cowards.

[mooshys]

zara employee!AU futakuchi

content: me trying to be funny, retail headcanons

word count: 2.0k

a/n: ah yes, so winter (@/wackatoshi) and I planned out this entire mall universe for the hq boys and it’s the funniest thing to think about. y’all know those rude zara employees at the mall who judge you as soon as you walk in and tell you that “everything’s out on the floor already” when you ask for a size up? and all the racks on the floor are in shambles? that’s what inspired this. not sure if another installment will be added to this, but whatever! for reference, the other employees: oikawa, ennoshita, kuroo, hanamaki.

the worst person to work with... ever

he completely fits the stereotype of zara employee

will go on his lunch break, but “accidentally” forget to clock out, so he’s still earning cash for eating his sandwich in the back. also prolongs his breaks by at least 5 minutes

can never be found when there’s a rush. and by the time they DO find him, the store is completely empty

comes in late, but leaves as soon as his shift ends

never comes to the store on his days off and whenever the managers text him asking if he can pick up a shift he says he’s “busy”

everyone knows it’s a lie. one time ennoshita, the manager, went on his break and saw futakuchi buying a pretzel at the auntie anne's from the mall food court even though he texted ennoshita like thirty minutes ago that he already had important plans for the day. futakuchi made direct eye contact with him as he took a bite into his pretzel, not the least bit apologetic about lying

all his coworkers wonder how he still has this job

spends most of his shift complaining about working than actually working

when people ask if there are any other sizes in the back, he’ll go to the storage room, play on his phone for 5 minutes, and then walk out to the customer and tell them that they're out of stock

will say he’s doing go-backs, but in reality he’s just walking around the store in circles to avoid work

when he’s REALLY annoyed he sometimes won’t even wear his name tag on the floor so the customers don’t know if he works there and will leave him alone

doesn’t even try to hide how disgruntled he is with work, will literally say “I hate this job” loud enough for customers to hear when he’s shit talking with oikawa behind the register. does loud audible sighs when a customer comes up to check out if he’s in the middle of telling a story

awful at folding the clothes. he might as well just compress all the shirts into a ball and toss them into the bag instead

DESPISES CLOSING WITH A PASSION. he hates staying back even five minutes to pick clothes off from the ground. will literally curse that the company is so inconsiderate of his time even though he clocked in late to his shift...

if you’re on shift with him be prepared to do all the work... go see a chiropractor cuz you’ll basically be carrying him on your back the whole time!

he also finds the most creative ways to get others to do his work for him. his usual victim is hanamaki. he’ll go up to him and say “hey, do you mind folding up all the shirts in zone B for me? ennoshita asked me to organize the back since we’re doing new promos tomorrow” and hanamaki’s so clueless and goes “yeah! sure dude, I got it!”

futakuchi doesn’t organize in the back, he hides behind all the boxes while crouched down on his phone for about twenty minutes before going out on the floor again

someone save hanamaki he’s literally doing futakuchi’s work for him... poor boy needs a RAISE

you actually don’t work at the store futakuchi works at, you’re a part timer at another nearby store

during the holiday season the zara futakuchi works at gets super busy and you take a few extra shifts there to help out

you and futakuchi have an... interesting relationship

first thing you say when you see him during the holiday season: “you haven’t been fired yet?”

he’s rolling his eyes going “oh haha. very funny. saw you were at the bottom of sales last week. that’s probably why you’re always getting transferred here, huh.”

you two are constantly snapping back at each other, even when you’re ringing other people up at the registers. the customers are standing there awkwardly as you two scan and passive aggressively insult each other

it’s so weird, like you two are so mean to each other, but at the same time you’re both practically attached to the hip during your shifts together

futakuchi is more... punctual during the holiday season and even takes a COUPLE EXTRA SHIFTS which floors ennoshita (he’s so moved, he thinks futakuchi has had a change of heart and is trying to improve his work ethic... buddy that’s not it, I’m so sorry)

every time you clock in, futakuchi is there too and you’re going. oh great. not this guy again. it’s like clockwork, as soon as your shift starts, you’re at each others’ neck

when you diss the way he folds clothes, he’s scrutinizing your high pitched customer service voice

at first the other guys are laughing at what’s going on between you two and they’re thinking you two are Mortal Enemies For Life

but then they start noticing little by little that your relationship with futakuchi isn’t like that at all

when you’re scolding futakuchi with his awful folding, you take the time to show him all the steps to make a clean display free of wrinkles. he’s standing next to you trying to imitate the way your hands work on the fabric. he adds in a few snarky comments here and there, but you hush him as you’re giving instructions

and when you’ve got a huge rack of clothes from the dressing room that need to go back on the floor, futakuchi offers to help you put them away. he’ll say “ennoshita told me to help out” and you brush it off, but he’s actually lying. he’s helping you on his own accord

he has his asshole persona to keep up with, so he’s still sliding in snide remarks, but you’re so used to it and can keep up with him that he’s always on his toes. he likes this back and forth with you

one day, kuroo starts talking about you with futakuchi to get the 411 on what’s going on between you two. futakuchi denies it all until kuroo starts teasing him by saying he’ll ask you on a date. that’s when futakuchi’s going. wait what

“yeah, there’s a nice restaurant about ten minutes from here and I think going there on a date would really—”

futakuchi starts internally freaking out. he’s going “oh. a date. at a nice italian restaurant near here. wow.”

and kuroo’s got a nice lopsided grin because HE KNOWS and he’s still egging him on

that’s when it finally hits futakuchi. he... he likes you. He Likes You A Lot

the tips of his ears start turning red at this sudden revelation

and upon seeing this kuroo’s like "Alright bud, I was just messing with you. But if you don’t ask her out on a date then I sure as hell will!"

futakuchi’s going alright man give me like a week

Bro futakuchi is even MEANER to you than he was before because he Likes you and Doesn’t Know How To Deal With His Feelings since he’s got the emotional capacity of a grade schooler

futakuchi: wow. that blouse you’re wearing. it suits you.

you: really? thank you I think the color—

futakuchi: yeah. it’s ugly. like you.

you: ...

kuroo’s watching the exchange from the register completely horrified. he’s like. what have I done. futakuchi whips his head over with pleading eyes when you tell him to shove it and kuroo’s shaking his head thinking “I never should have gotten involved”

he’s in too deep already and when you leave the floor to help ennoshita with the stockroom, kuroo has another one-on-one with futakuchi. he tells him the basics like “Don’t call the person you like Ugly”

“well what else am I supposed to say”

truly a lost cause...

it’s like talking to a wall with futakuchi. kuroo’s telling him to be polite and sweet to you and futakuchi’s nodding his head in understanding, but as soon as he’s within a 3ft radius near you his brain is thinking “insult them for attention” kuroo’s like DUDE. WHAT DID I SAY.

this sad exchange goes on for a week and by then kuroo’s like. I give up on you. I can’t deal with this and the holiday rush. he’s waving up the white flag

futakuchi’s been kinda meaner to you than before, so you start ignoring him a bit and he’s getting so frustrated with himself that he doesn’t even know what to do and kuroo notices you two not talking AT ALL during a shift and he’s like. Futakuchi. Just Confess Already. Jesus.

futakuchi wishes he never realized he likes you because he wants to go back to those work days when you two would be Kinda Cheeky towards each other and everything was lax

the confession happens when ennoshita assigns you and futakuchi to work on orders in the back room. at first, futakuchi was trying to find hanamaki to do the work for him, but was promptly dragged by ennoshita to the back. there was no getting out of this

when he saunters on in, he sees you’re already printing out the shipping labels and folding up boxes and it’s silent, your back is facing him and he can definitely feel something is wrong

you saw him searching for hanamaki on the floor and it hurt your feelings because were you that insufferable to work with?

there’s silence between you two and then you break it and tell him that he can go back on the floor if he doesn’t want to work with you

and he can sense the hurt in your voice and he’s like... no, no, no that isn’t it

you’re shaking your head and saying “look, I get it. I get on your nerves. I could tell from this past week and you avoiding me. sorry if I did anything wrong... you can grab hanamaki and we’ll finish these orders while you work in the front”

now futakuchi is internally screaming NONONONONO in his mind because YOU’RE not annoying him at all he’s just a complete dummy who doesn’t know how to deal with his own emotions and now you’re on the verge of crying as you fold some shirts with tissue paper

it’s now or never

futakuchi blurts out that he Really Likes You

at first you think he’s joking and you’re going “Are you serious right now? I’m literally crying and you think NOW is the time to do some fake middle school confession? you’re sick”

POOR GUY HE’S LIKE “NO I REALLY MEAN THAT I LIKE YOU... A LOT...”

he’s right next to you now and grabs onto your shoulders so you can get a good look at his face. his eyes are all business as he confesses again

you’ve got your hand over your mouth and it hits you

futakuchi being Extra Mean to you is his way of showing affection...

now you’re throwing your head back in laughter because he’s so dumb. he’s tall and handsome and too cheeky for his own good, but he’s also like an elementary school kid realizing he’s got his first ever crush and he has absolutely No Idea how to Deal With It

after you’re done laughing, you lightly hit him on the chest and throw in a few lighthearted insults before you hug him as tight as you can. he returns the favor by wrapping his arms around you, practically engulfing you

he’s thinking wow. this is nice. he’s keeping his mouth clamped shut to avoid ruining the moment, but he’s totally digging the way you fit perfectly in his arms

when you pull away you notice his face is red all over and now you’re cracking up and calling him tomato head

and at this, he’s pointing at your running mascara and is like “sure I look like a tomato, but you’re looking like a reject Joker with all that smudged makeup”

now you two are fighting in the back, but in a more loving manner

as soon as you both clock out for the night, futakuchi takes you to the nice italian restaurant nearby. the one kuroo mentioned about a week beforehand

it’s the perfect place for a first date

(he’s too prideful to thank kuroo, but what he instead does is send a selfie with you in the picture + the food during the first date. kuroo’s slow clapping it out. he knew the little asshole could do it.)