#and not like 'wow it's neat that they gave us a little glimpse into the personality of someone who only existed offscreen'

[nowhere302]

I'm sorry but I don't get people being like "this character only exists as backstory/development/ect. for this other character they're written badly!!!" like? that's literally just the purpose of some characters lmfao

[watchmegetobsessed]

Never Have I Ever - Harry Styles (part 8)

a/n: oh my! we have finally reached the end of this story and I never thought it would turn out to be this long but im happy it did! thank you for reading and loving it, and now, enjoy the last part!

pairing: Harry x actress!reader

word count: 4k

warning: just pure fluff

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

“Girl, even if you don’t win, you’ll surely take the title of the hottest woman on the red carpet tonight.”

Florence’s words make you chuckle, but you try not to move your lips too much as the makeup artist finishes up the last touches on them, using a nude shade.

“Stop, my head is big enough already,” you tell her, giving her a look through the mirror. She is standing a few feet behind you, already wearing her beautiful, golden Versace gown that hugs her perfectly. Her hair is up in a neat bun so her back can be on full display and the diamonds in her ears can also shine brightly. She looks amazing while she is the opposite of what you’ll look like tonight.

Rhonda, the makeup artist has an amazing notion about your look when you showed her the gown you’d be wearing tonight and since the dress is not the sparkly kind, like Florence’s, she went a little heavier with the glitter on your eyes, using mostly whitish-silver colors, creating rosy cheeks and topping it with nude, glossy lips. Your hair is in loose curls with a bunch of extension, creating the illusion that you might as well be Rapunzel herself tonight. But you are the most excited about the gown that’s already waiting for you to be finally put on.

“What time is it?” you ask Florence as you don’t have your phone on you, but she has hers in her hands already.

“We still have half an hour before we have to leave. Dude, I can’t believe you are an Oscar nominee and might turn into a winner tonight!” she sighs, eyes shining bright with excitement. She hasn’t come off of this high for days, so over the Moon that you get to walk the red carpet tonight as a nominee.

“Don’t jinx it, Flo,” you warn her.

There’s a knock on the door of the hotel suit you’ve occupied for the glamming and Florence is quick to rush to it answering, but you both know who it is. As she throws the door open Harry comes to your sight, looking  as handsome as ever, wearing his custom made Gucci suit with a pink dress shirt underneath that matches your gown perfectly.

“Florence, you look wonderful!” his british accent fills the room, making you smile. Rhonda sets your makeup with some spray and you’re finally done. Standing up you move your legs around a bit as they went a little numb from all the sitting.

“Thank you! Pink suits you well, Harry,” your friend compliments your man and you watch them smiling.

When Harry’s eyes set on you, the light up, his smile widening from ear to ear. He looks spotless, freshly shaved, his hair recently cut and combed into place for a change. Not that you don’t like it when it’s all tousled and messy, especially when it’s because of your fingers.

“Angel, wow!” he breathes out as he walks up to you, taking your hands in his. You know he wants to kiss you, but doesn’t want to risk messing your lips up, so he is left with admiring you with only his eyes.

“Just wait until you see her in the dress!” Florence chimes in making you chuckle. You kept your dress a secret, wanting to surprise him with the first look. You gave out only the most necessary details for Lambert so the two of you could match.

“You’d be great like this too,” he teases, taking a look at your fluffy robe.

“I’m not going to the Oscars in a robe,” you tell him with a narrow-eyed look.

“I know, I’m just saying that you’d still be stunning,” he mumbles with a boyish smirk.

“Y/N? Time to choose a necklace!” Your stylist, Rupert appears from the room where your gown is hanging. He has a few jewelry boxes in his hands and he sets them all to the coffee table, opening up you are met with four breathtakingly beautiful diamond necklaces, each of them different yet so magical looking, you can’t decide which one you like the most.

“Harry, which one do you like the most?” you ask, kneeling down next to the table, mesmerized by the jewelries in front of you. Harry leans down and inspects them one by one before poking on the last one in the row. It has three rows of diamonds, not too big, the stones in the last row are shaped like water droplets, it’s such an elegant looking piece, it surely caught your eyes as well and you think it would be perfect with the dress.

“This one,” he tells you and you nod, shutting the other boxes, satisfied with the choice.

“Alright, time to get you into the gown, girl,” Rupert winks, gesturing at you to follow him into the room.

“I’ll be right back,” you tell Harry, risking a quick peck on his lips before you disappear in your temporary dressing room.

You fell in love with the gown on the first fitting when Rupert pulled it out, still in the finishing phase. It still has pins in it, but it already took your breath away. It has a massive A-line skirt and a tight upper part that hugs your body perfectly, a row of buttons running down the middle of it. The sleeves are puffy, but then end in a tight run from a little above your wrists, the same set of buttons appearing like on your chest. It’s giving out some Victorian style vibes in a more sophisticated and simpler way, but it’s by far your favorite dress you’ve ever worn to any event.

It surely needs the extra pair of hands from Rupert to put it on, but once you are secured in it, you feel like a princess straight out of a fairytale and surely, your prince is standing on the other side of the double doors.

“Alright! Everyone get ready for the big reveal!” Rupert announces, sneaking out the room so he can open the door for you. He waits a few moments as you hear everyone shuffle around outside, probably lining up to see you walk out in your finished state. “Okay, three! Two! One! Welcome our Oscar nominee!” he cheers, a round of applause is heard before you even appear, but it’s quickly replaced with gasps when Rupert pulls the doors open and they get the first glimpse of you in your gown.

“Holy fuck!” Florence gasps, mouth hanging open as she keeps raking your form up and down. Your eyes find Harry’s gaze and you see him in a state you haven’t often found him in the past almost two years you’ve been dating. He is completely speechless, eyes glued to you in awe as if he just saw an angel in real life.

“Y/N, I—wow,” he breathes out, still at a loss of words.

“You like it?” you ask with a shy smile.

“I fucking love it, baby. You look… You really are an angel,” he tells you, making you chuckle at his words.

“Would you please help me put on the necklace?” you ask him and he nods eagerly, carefully taking the jewelry out of its box and walking behind you, he brings it around your neck, his fingers delicately working on the clasp. Once it’s all set, you step to the floor to ceiling mirror, taking in the final look.

“There won’t be a straight woman left on Earth once you step on the red carpet,” Florence bluntly comments, making everyone in the room laugh.

“Let’s take some photos, I need to immortalize this masterpiece,” Rupert gestures around, already grabbing his camera.

The next ten minutes you take hundreds of photos, alone, with Florence and then with Harry. He still seems a little stunned by your look, feeling shy when he circles his arm around your waist, but it’s cute that you can still have such an effect on him after being together for almost two years.

Florence snaps some with your phone as well, your favorite is when he held your waist and leant you back, making you arch backwards as your noses touched since he couldn’t kiss you. You already know it’ll end up as your lockscreen, replacing the selfie the two of you took on your latest trip to Hawaii.

When it’s time to leave you grab your little purse with your phone and other necessities and the three of you pile up in a minivan, since your dress needs all the space so it doesn’t get wrinkled before you step out to the red carpet.

As you sit in the car and watch the buildings pass by, your nerves start to rise in you. When the nominations came out a month ago it seemed so far, you couldn’t imagine yourself actually attending the Academy Awards, but now here you are, on your way to find out if you’ve been good enough to be the best.

Your role in Sinful Heaven has brought a lot to your life aside from the nomination. The three months of filming was one of the hardest times in your life you’ve ever worked through and at some points, you didn’t even think you’d get through it. Working so closely with Levi took a toll on you while you were trying to prove in such a heavy and serious role. It was a mess especially at the beginning when you and Harry were still in this weird phase, but that eventually turned right when he literally punched Levi in the face and ten minutes later asked you to be his girlfriend. It’s a badass way to start a relationship and you wouldn’t trade it for anything, especially because it put Levi into place or at least scared him enough to get off your back for the rest of the filming.

When Harry left following that visit, you couldn’t see each other until filming wrapped and you flew straight to him and travelled with him for the next two weeks, hopping from one city to the other, watching him perform every other night and spending all your time with him.

When the movie premiered eight months later, you didn’t appear with Harry by your side, Maya was your date for the evening, but by that time everyone knew you and Harry are an official couple. Neither of you felt like hiding it or caring about what others would think and you were able to focus on each other and rely on the strong foundation you’ve built for your relationship.

He was there with you when the nominations came out and probably screamed louder when your name appeared in the list. With tearing eyes and choked out sobs you jumped into his arms as he mumbled into your ear.

“I’m so proud of you, Angel. So, so proud!”

And now you are on your way to the show, only hours away from finding out if your dreams will come true tonight. Harry squeezes your hand and you turn to face him, his soft eyes meeting yours.

“Nervous?” he asks with a small smile.

“Very,” you admit with an airy chuckle.

“Whatever happens tonight, I’m very proud of you. Don’t forget that.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, giving his hand a squeeze back.

Since it’s the first time you and Harry appear on the red carpet as a couple, once you set your feet out of the car, everyone goes nuts. He helps you out and even fixes your dress so it falls just perfectly around your frame before he offers his arm. You link your through it, taking a deep breath as the two of you start walking down the carpet, posing for the photographers.

You feel powerful and strong, like it’s the peak of your career, but you also feel that it wouldn’t be the same without Harry by your side even though he is making sure to let you shine tonight. At one point he even steps back for a moment so photographers can snap you alone and you think it’s such a caring move from him.

You feel a little dizzy from all the flashlights by the time you walk into the theater, Harry holding your hand tightly as he leads you to your seats.

You’ve been to plenty award shows and it’s not even your first Academy Awards appearance either, but for obvious reasons, it’s the most important. Sitting in your plush chair, you can barely stop yourself from continuously fidgeting as one category follows the other and it’s still not yours.

Then following a jaw-dropping performance from Dua Lipa, Chris Evans walks out with a golden statue and an envelope in his hands and your heart skips a beat, but not because of the man himself, but because you know he is the presenter of the Best Actress category.

Your hold on Harry’s hand on your lap tightens and you glue your eyes to the big screens behind Chris as he smiles around.

“Good evening. It’s a pleasure to be here and to present the award for Best Actress. The theater tonight is filled with exceptional talents, but let’s see the nominees,” he speaks into the microphone and then he starts listing the names.

Emma Stone, Anne Hathaway, Margot Robbie and Rooney Mara are called and a camera fixates on each of them when Chris says their names, all smiling brightly and waving around before your name is called at the end. Taking a deep breath you plaster your most wonderful smile across your face, waving around like the other nominees did before the big screen splits, showing the five of you simultaneously.

“We’ve seen some spectacular performances from these ladies and now let’s see who proved herself to be the best this year.”

Chris flips the envelope open and pulls the little paper out that has the winner’s name written on it and for a moment you’re convinced you’ll pass out. You’ve never felt this anxious before and you’re gripping Harry’s hand so tightly you’re surprised he hasn’t pulled it back, but he is patiently putting up with your nerves, his eyes glued to the man on the stage as well.

“And the Academy Award for Best Actress goes to…” Chris starts with a charming smile, holding a short pause before he finally says the name. “Y/N Y/L/N for her role as Marie Davidson in Sinful Heaven!”

Your mouth hangs open, ears ringing as you process that your name was called. Everyone around you jumps up, including Harry, who is screaming just like when the nominations came out, while you are completely blank. It takes you a couple of moments to realize that you in fact just won your first Oscar and everyone is waiting for you to go and get your little statue.

“Baby! Baby you won!” Harry cheers as he helps you up from your seat and you throw yourself into his arms as reality sets in. “I fucking love you, Angel. Go and get your Oscar!” he laughs, pride all over his face as he urges you to walk up to the stage.

“Walk me up, please!” you stammer, not trusting yourself with walking in this fragile state. He offers his hand without a second thought, walking you to the stage where Chris is politely waiting for you to help you up on the stairs.

“Thank you,” you breathe out once you’re finally up on the stage, every set of eyes on you as Chris hands you the little statue.

“Congratulations,” he smiles as the two of you exchange two kisses on the cheeks before he steps aside and lets you give a speech.

You thought about writing a few words beforehand, but you figured if you end up being the winner you’d forget the whole thing, so there would be no use and that’s the case. Your mind is still blank as you look down at the award in your hands, the crowd still cheering on you, giving you a few extra moments to figure out what to say.

“I uhh—I don’t even know what to say, this feels like a dream,” you admit talking into the microphone, the clapping dying down so that everyone can hear your words. “I want to thank to everyone who worked on Sinful Heaven, because I wouldn’t be here without them. To my wonderful director and amazing costars, it’s been such a wonderful journey with you all. Thank you to my friends and family who were there with me from the very start, believing in me when I was losing faith in myself, thank you for never giving up on me. To my parents who I assume are now crying in front of the TV,” you add chuckling softly, imagining your mom and dad in tears as they listen to your words. “This is a wonderful sign to me that I am where I need to be and that I’m on the right path, so thank you for giving me even more motivation to keep me going on my way.”

Your eyes roam around all the guests until they fall on one proud man staring at you in his Gucci suit and pink dress shirt, his green eyes looking glossy as he listens to your words.

“And last but not least, thank you to one special person, because I’m convinced I wouldn’t be here tonight without him. I have one thing to tell you.” Forgetting about everyone in the theater you hold up the Oscar in your hand as you finish your speech: “Never have I ever loved someone like I love you.”

The crowd starts cheering again as you step away from the microphone and Chris is quick to jog up to you and help you down the stairs, Harry rushing back to take your hand once Chris lets go of it.

You catch him wipe a tear off his cheek as the two of you walk back to your seats hand in hand. Once you are settled, you take a deep breath and turn to Harry who is already looking at you, the same proud smile you saw from the stage still on his handsome face.

“I have never,” he tells you as his answer to the last line of your speech and you chuckle as your free hand finds the back of his neck, pulling him close. The lipstick on your lips long forgotten as you finally kiss him for the first time tonight.

“I have never either,” you whisper against his lips before kissing him again and again.

***

  Smiling around you wait for the audience to quiet down as you make yourself comfortable in the familiar armchair. It’s such a nostalgic feeling to sit here again.

“Y/N, it’s so nice to have you here again,” Ellen greets you once the clapping has stopped.

“Thank you for inviting me.”

“Of course. A lot has happened since the last time you were here, you won an Oscar just a few weeks ago, congratulations!”

The cheering starts again as a picture of you appears on the screen behind you, wearing your iconic pink gown, holding your Oscar in your hands.

“Thank you,” you shyly smile, still not entirely in peace with the fact that you are now an Oscar winning actress.

“Such a major thing, congrats.”

“Thank you, it is a huge thing, yes.”

“Do you already have a spot for the award? Does it have a designated place?”

“Well, for now it is in my study along with some more mementos, but I’m planning to have a little stand made in the living room,” you share your plans.

“Surely, I would want to show it off if I had an Oscar,” Ellen chuckles. “You have such a busy time behind you, have you been up to something new lately?”

“We finished filming the third season of The Umbrella Academy, so now I’m having a little break before I jump into anything new.”

“Sounds nice, you deserve all the relaxing. Anything planned while you’re on a break? A new book to read, or maybe a concert to go to?” she asks and you already know where this is heading.

“You know you can just ask if I’m planning to attend a Harry Styles concert,” you bluntly tell her, making the audience and Ellen laugh.

“Well, I was just asking around about your plans, but I’m happy you plan to visit Harry’s concert! It’s also good to know that the situation has changed since the last time you were here, you definitely have been to one of his concerts since then.”

“I have been, yes,” you admit smirking.

“And I assume the two of you are now very close, am I right?” she asks and suddenly a paparazzi photo of the two of you appears where you’re walking down the street hand in hand just a couple of weeks ago.

“You could say that,” you nod, biting into your bottom lip.

“Amazing, because he is going to join us now. Everyone, please welcome Harry Styles!” Ellen announces and turning around you spot Harry walking out from backstage, the audience screaming for him. He shyly waves around walking up to the center, greeting Ellen with a kiss on the cheek before he turns to you, pecking your lips shortly as he sits down next to you.

“Harry, so good to see you again,” Ellen smiles at him.

“Good t’ see you as well,” he nods.

“So, the last time you two were sitting here, you—it was the first time you ever met, right?”

“Right,” you nod with Harry.

“And now you are…” she gestures at the two of you, not finishing the sentence, but everyone knows what she meant by that.

“And now we are… not strangers anymore,” Harry says chuckling, making everyone in the studio laugh.

“Certainly,” Ellen nods. “Alright, I thought that we could play another game, just to bring back some nice memories,” she explains, reaching behind her armchair, grabbing the familiar board from her, flipping it in your hands with a nostalgic smile.

“Can we keep it PG rated though?” Harry asks, examining his board before looking up at Ellen.

“No,” she simply answers, reaching for her cards as the audience starts laughing. “Okay, you know how to play it, no need for explanation. Here is the first one: Never have I ever used my fame to get in somewhere.”

Ellen is quick to show the I HAVE side of her board and you slowly do the same while Harry thinks to himself.

“Oh come on, you surely have,” you elbow him playfully as he smirks in your way, holding up the same side as you and Ellen.

“We all have, it’s not a shame,” Ellen shrugs. “Next one. Never have I ever forgotten the name of someone right after they introduced themselves.”

Ellen holds up the I HAVE side and you do the same again while this time Harry flips it over to I HAVE NEVER confidently.

“Really?” Ellen asks him, surprised at his answer.

“I’m good with names,” he simply shrugs.

“That’s a good trait. Alright, let’s move on. Never have I ever punched someone in the face.”

It’s a sneaky and very shady statement. Just a few days after the incident with Levi, word got out that he was punched, a few blurry pictures floating around the internet of his bruise, then fans figured out it had to happen around the time Harry visited set and people were quick to put the picture together and assume that Harry was the one who hit Levi, but it was never confirmed.

Glancing at your boyfriend you are fighting your smile back, holding up the I HAVE NEVER side as he is looking back at you slyly, continuously flipping his board before it finally lands on I HAVE, the audience immediately rumbling at the partial confirmation and seemingly Ellen is also amazed by Harry’s honesty.

“Alright, interesting. Love that for you, Harry,” he comments making everyone laugh as you reach over and give Harry’s hand a squeeze. “Last one,” Ellen announces, reading the last statement from her cards. “Never have I ever fallen in love with someone I played never have I ever with.”

Ellen quickly shows her I HAVE NEVER side as you suck your lips into your mouth, glancing at Harry again. You share a look before you both slowly raise your boards, both reading the same sign on them: I HAVE.

[oikawaplssteponme]

locked lips

pairing: Pro Hero! Izuku Midoriya x fem! reader

ratings/warnings: NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI [please im literally begging you], swearing, legal consumption of alcohol, slight praise, fingering, use of the name ‘baby’, deku being a little bit of a cocky jerk, unprotected intercourse, make-up sex

genre: ex’s to lovers, smut, aged up characters, fluff/angst (?)

word count: ~2.2k words

synopsis: You broke up with him on impulse. That doesn’t mean you stopped loving him. Now you’re back at his place, at a party you planned, with him looking just so desirable. What else were you to do?

a/n: hi hi! alright friends, this being my first nsfw post i cannot stress enough how important it is that minors don’t interact. if i catch any minors interacting with this post, ill delete this post and block them, which i obviously don’t want to have to do. just please respect these rules :)) anyway, reblogs are greatly appreciated and enjoy xx

You scrolled through your phone, mindlessly. You tried your best not to double tap on any of the pictures on your screen. The last thing you needed was for him to know you were stalking his page.

“You should start getting ready,” said Uraraka. You looked over at her, cocking a brow.

“Uh I'm not going?” you huffed. Uraraka sat down beside you.

“Don’t be like that Y/N. You still have to go tonight, regardless of Deku.”

“The party is at Deku’s house. I’d look like a total idiot showing my face there after we broke up.”

You sat up and crossed your arms. Ochaco sighed. She grabbed your shoulders.

“Y/N, you are gonna go to the party and make Deku regret his entire life. Anyway, I’m bringing you as my plus one, so you have to come!”

You sighed. “Fine, but I’m staying with you the whole night.”

Ochaco smiled and gave you a quick hug. She got up and began scanning through her closet again.

You had been staying with Uraraka since you and Izuku had broken up. It was a blow out fight. You yelled at him for caring about work more than you. He shouted at you for not being understanding of his career. The words you meant mixed with the words you didn’t, and chaos erupted between you and him. So, you packed a bag and left. You didn’t want to, but you were done.

While you and Deku were still together, you helped him plan an event for him and his fellow Pro Heroes, as an opportunity for them all to get together. Now, you would be attending that same event. Only, not with him.

“Who would’ve thought there’d be a day where I’d have too many clothes to choose from,” laughed Ochaco. You smiled.

“You should wear that pink dress Iida bought you for your birthday. I don’t think you’ve worn it out yet.”

“You think? It’s not too much…”

“Of course not! You’ll look hot,” you teased. Ochaco smiled.

“Alright alright I’ll wear it. But then you have to wear this!” She pulled out a bag from her closet and handed it to you.

“Please don’t tell me you bought me something…”

“I had to! All your clothes are still at his place...and I wanted to make sure you felt good tonight.”

You gave Ochaco a nudge and pulled out the tissue paper. You felt the soft material in between your fingertips, pulling it out from the bag.

“Uraraka...”

“No need to thank me. You’ve been through hell and back these last few weeks, the least I could do is get you a pretty dress.”

You jumped towards your friend, engulfing her in a hug.

“Thank you.”

“Hey now, let’s get ready! The limousine will be here in just a few hours!”

~

You sat in the back of the limo with Ochaco as you were on your way to Deku’s party. You looked like a million bucks. A little part of you hoped someone would take notice.

The estate where Izuku lived was gated off. Once you were let inside, you could see the beaming lights from the top of the hill. You felt your stomach clench, nerves building inside of you. You wanted to see him, but you also didn’t want to see him doing better without you. You haven’t even been apart that long. A month maybe? Certainly not long enough for him to be over you, because you certainly weren’t over him.

“Oh wow, Deku went all out!” cheered Ochaco. You looked to see the endless decorations and glamor that surrounded you.

“Yeah, these were my ideas,” you mumbled. Ochaco placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t stress about it. Let’s just have fun, okay?”

You exited the vehicle and began to make your way inside. Champagne fountains and blasting music greeting you. His house was just as extraordinary as you remembered it. Nothing less than perfect for the No. 1 Hero.

“Uravity! Y/N!”

You turned to see your friend Iida, plus others from your old days at UA.

“You two are looking stunning tonight!” smiled Kirishima.

“Why thank you, it’s all thanks to this one,” you chuckled, giving Ochaco a nudge.

“I honestly didn’t expect to see you here tonight Y/N,” said Shoto. You shrugged.

“Well, I was invited after all. So Mr. Number One Hero can deal with it,” you huffed.

“Sounds like you could use a drink.”

Kaminari handed you a glass of champagne, which you took happily. You clinked glasses with your friends before dousing the beverage down.

“It’s gonna be a long night,” you mumbled to yourself.

You found yourself on the living room couch of Izuku’s large complex. You watched as Pro Heroes danced mindlessly with far too many drinks in their systems. You chuckled. At least they’re having fun.

You hadn’t seen Izuku all night, which was strange considering this was his party. You looked over to the glass staircase, knowing more than well that his bedroom was upstairs. You knew the layout like the back of your hand, after all, you lived here for a year.

You knew all your stuff had to be upstairs. You only had time to pack a small bag the day you left. Surely he wasn’t awful enough to throw your things away. You got up from the couch and quietly made your way up the stairs, hoping no one saw you sneak away from the action of the party.

His bedroom was at the end of the hallway. The doors were closed. You placed your shaky hand on the doorknob and turned it slowly. It was unlocked.

You stepped inside. The smell of his cologne filled your senses, causing memories to flood in as well. His room was neat, as if no one had been sleeping in it. You turned to the closet. All your clothing should be on the right side.

“Sneaking around?”

You jumped, removing your hand from the closet handle. You turned around slowly.

“Just wanted to make sure you didn’t burn my shit,” you huffed. Izuku chuckled. He took a few steps towards you, opening the closet.

“Don’t paint me as a villain Y/N. All your things are safe and sound.”

Your side of the closet was just as you left it. Exactly how you left it. You looked back to Izuku.

“Perfect. Then I’ll be taking it with me when I leave-”

“I’m surprised you came at all. I figured you’d want to be as far away from here as possible.”

“I didn’t come for you, I came for Ochaco.”

“Oh right.”

Deku took a step back, placing his hands in his pockets. That devilish smile stared you down, causing your face to burn. You could see the outline of his muscles through his white button down.

“You look incredible by the way. New dress?” he smirked. You rolled your eyes.

“Well since all my clothes were here, yes.”

“Well serves you right for leaving out of nowhere.”

Your eyes widened and you clenched your fists.

“I didn’t leave out of nowhere, I left because you cared more about your job than me!”

“That’s not true-”

“To hell it is! I was tired of being second to everything so I left!”

Izuku took a deep breath and stepped closer to you. He placed his hand under your chin, having you look at him.

“I didn’t want to break up.”

Your breathing got heavier without you even realizing it. You also didn’t realize that Midoriya had you pressed against the closet door.

“I-I didn’t want to either…” you whispered. Izuku smiled.

“Then tell me baby, why did we?”

“B-Because I didn’t know what else to do…”

Izuku brushed his thumb against your cheek, then took a step back.

“Look, I’m sorry. The last thing I wanted was to make you feel under-appreciated...but-”

Izuku moved closer to you again, pinning your arms to your sides and pressing his torso against you all in a swift motion.

“-I can think of a better way to prove it to you.”

You tried to catch your breath. All you wanted was him at this exact moment. Was that a good thing? Of course not. Did you care? Of course not.

“Then prove it to me.”

Izuku wasted little time in moving you onto his California-king. He pinned you down onto the mattress and instantly kissed you. You felt the rush of butterflies swarm your stomach. You hated how much you had missed this.

Deku let go of your wrists and you began to unbutton his shirt. With little patience, he helped you from out of your dress. He dived back down, locking lips with you once more. You dragged your nails down his back, listening as soft groans escaped his lips. He moved down to kiss and suck on your neck.

“Fuck~” was all you were able to get out. Izuku’s hands grazed your burning body, feeling the skin that he had been craving since the day you left. He snaked his hand to your back, unbuckling your bra easily.

“I’ve still got it…” he teased. He threw the bra to the floor and gave you little time to breathe before kissing you again. You ran your fingers through his fluffy hair, pulling him impossibly closer.

“Izuku...please…”

His puppy dog eyes stared back at you.

“What is it?”

You panted heavily, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I need you.”

A smirk creeped onto his face. Izuku kissed your cheek.

“I promised I was gonna prove it to you, wasn’t I?”

Izuku sat up, unbuckling his belt. He slid off his pants and boxers. You caught a glimpse of him, causing your body to feel on fire. Midoriya placed his head in between your legs. He teasingly kissed your inner thighs, keeping his hands glued onto them. The anticipation was practically killing you.

“Izuku-”

“Patience baby...I’m in no rush…”

He moved up to your underwear, biting onto one of the strings and pulling it down. They were practically soaked already. Same with your bra, he tossed them to the floor.

He continued to kiss and nip at your thighs, inching impossibly closer to you. You couldn’t take it anymore.

You grabbed Izuku up and kissed him feverishly.

“So eager baby~”

“Please just fuck me,” you whispered. Izuku chuckled. He licked his lips.

“As you wish.”

Izuku spread your legs apart, dipping one of his fingers inside of you with ease. You arched your back, letting out a moan, and gripping onto his arm tightly.

“That’s it baby~”

Midoriya slipped another finger in, stretching you out even more. You clenched around him as he added more pressure.

He removed his fingers and better adjusted himself above you. He held his cock in his hand before slowly pushing it inside of you.

You didn’t remember him ever feeling this good.

Izuku began to thrust into you, slow at first before building in speed. You could feel yourself clenching around him, sweat forming on your skin. Midoriya groaned with each movement as he pushed even deeper. He kissed you as he fucked you, though you were such a mess you could barely keep up.

He knew exactly how to get you worked up.

“Oh god...I’m c-close,” you mumbled.

“Not yet…”

Midoriya moved his hand down, taking his thumb and rubbing your needy clit. You gripped onto him even harder, digging your nails into his skin as he pushed you over the edge.

“Oh fuck-fuck-”

“Fuck baby, I-I love you-I’m sorry-” he stuttered out.

“I-I love you t-too. Fuck Izuku- I’m gonna cum-”

“Cum with me baby-”

Izuku went even harder as he reached his climax, following you. You let out a pleasure filled scream as you let go. Izuku laid on top of you, catching his breath as your body shook below him.

He looked up at you, brushing his hair back.

“I love you,” he repeated, in case you didn’t believe him the first time. You smiled.

“I love you too.”

~

You had forgotten all about the party that was occurring below you. As you got redressed to head back down to meet Ochaco, you felt Izuku grab your hand.

“What is it?” you asked him. Midoriya took your other hand as he stood before you.

“I really am sorry. I don’t want you to leave again,” he explained. You sighed. You ran your fingers through his hair, kissing his cheek.

“It’s okay, I won’t.”

You walked downstairs with Izuku, his hand interlocked with yours. You watched as Ochaco’s jaw dropped at the sight of you.

“Oh so that’s where you were for the last hour and a half?” she huffed. You chuckled nervously.

“Yeah sorry…”

“Well the limo is here to take us back home, or are you staying here?” she asked. You looked up at Midoriya.

“I’m staying.”

Soon the Midoriya residence was quiet, just you and him remained. You curled up with him on the couch, his arms holding you tightly as he kissed your head.

“You wanna know why I didn’t get rid of any of your things?” he said. You laughed.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because I knew you’d be back.”

•

reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

[vaguely-concerned]

The Mandalorian Chapter 15 reactions; *nobby nobbs voice* ‘s all gone a bit percychological, sir

 - so from both chapter 6 and now this: rick famuyiwa is incredible at portraying prolonged discomfort and tension (and also at getting din’s endless love for that baby across through the stress of being separated from him. this is the very first episode with no baby in it at all, isn’t it? wow that’s a heartbreaking milestone to reach im crying)

I liked this episode SO MUCH but I had to pause it pretty often and take a breather because it all made me so viscerally uncomfortable on din’s behalf -- not just the armour and having to take the helmet off and be seen for the (almost, ilu IG-11) first time in decades, people keep touching him in this episode when he clearly doesn’t want them to but can’t stop it and it makes me want to claw my own skin off in sympathy, it’s so awful. that’s really neat film making to manage to keep that tension steady almost all the way through!!! 

honestly this episode felt a little bit like psychological horror, with the cheering storm troopers and din in the wrong armour and clearly not digging it and there’s the palpable absence of baby and that ever present dread of being Perceived when you’re not ready for it; everything’s turned upside down from how it should be. and it’s playing with that discomfort both in the main character and in us, the audience, in having the familiar be made unfamiliar and also introducing these questions that shake up everything (that feeling you get of ‘but... if it’s not the helmet, and not the armour, but there’s his face, but we’ve only seen that face once before so it’s still basically new to us, is this... is this still him. is this still Dad’ (oooh I wonder if we’re... sort of getting some of the ??? the baby would be feeling about it too?) we’ve all imprinted on that t-shaped visor like little baby birds, and this was a very clever episode to break us out of that and start to really get used to the thought of him having several faces that are real simultaneously, in a way, and not just a voice. it’s all very smart and interesting and I’m sure I’ll have a lot of incoherent thoughts about this in the weeks to come lol)    

- the actual reason din can’t take off the helmet is that if people were able to see his wide confused puppy eyes they would no longer find it in themselves to send him on long arduous side missions and would help him immediately just so he’d feel better, and that would rob us of like 80% of the content for this show 

mayfeld in this episode: clearly a casualty of this. he literally sees one glimpse of the vulnerability there and then within five seconds goes on to materialize a few redeeming character traits after being a complete jackass for an episode and a half. (I mean. he was 100% still an imperial so I’m a bit ‘hm.’ about how easily especially cara let him off the hook, but with the way it was set up I guess it would have been quite shitty of them to just throw him back in prison so I mean I GUESS. I would be endlessly grateful someone got my awkward bff out of there alive and well too I suppose)

- I actually think din’s sense/integrity of self has gotten so much stronger and more resilient (though probably still quite fragile pls handle with care precious cargo within); if this had happened in the first season I think it might honestly just have killed him (and if it weren’t for IG-11 it probably would have lol)

- can you beLIEVE din is so bad at lying that they literally should plan for contingencies over it fjkasdlhfskajdhfsdj     

- very grateful for the scene with the spear throw that’s basically there to reassure us ‘uh-huh, he absolutely knows how to use it, don’t worry about that part at least’

I want to make a whole post about that fight scene, though, it’s just so GOOD! there’s so much storytelling and characterization in it! even out of the armour din has some real hand to hand MOVES!! he clearly came out of that aching all over, he can barely get back in his seat!!!

- so what I’m mainly taking away from this is that din absolutely cuts his own hair and you know what? he does a good job considering the conditions he has to work under, I love him  

I still find it so goddamn darling that he meticulously maintains that little mustache/stubble combo under there even when there’s every reason to believe no one will ever see it 

I suppose we can also gather that he did not ask cobb about whatever insane feat of magic he’s come up with to avoid helmet hair, but I don’t care looking a bit frazzled and tousled is exactly right for him (he’s so put together when he’s in the armour and a MESS when he’s out of it and I  l o v e  it) 

- boba fett is honestly so fucking hot in this I don’t know what to do with myself haha. he’s so CALM and CALCULATED and COLLECTED in his newly painted armour and he’s GOT THIS and he made that ‘I’ve got one of those faces. one of jango’s many, many, many faces’ joke and he’s so thicc now, he looks like he could easily lift me over his head with one hand and he’s just quietly steady and undramatically supportive and sdalfhsdjhfsa 

- ...din does know who the clone troopers were, right. I mean of course he does. he has to. but does he though. I’m sure he does and just wasn’t thinking. 

- no matter how stressful it was I’m still really grateful that in the end taking the helmet off was something din got to do himself -- it’s under some duress, but it’s still his choice and for the sake of the baby, and almost in two more manageable steps between putting on the storm trooper gear for a different helmet before taking it off altogether. it’s not something done to him by gideon, for example, that would be. so much yuckier and worse. he still has that control and agency intact, even if it’s been tested really hard, and now gideon doing that doesn’t hold the exact same nightmarish power anymore because there’s already a little space opened in din’s mind for different things it can mean, if you see what I mean. I’m not sure I see what I mean actually I just have a lot of feelings haha. so I guess thank you mayfeld for being decent about it and helping him towards that realization that he can still be himself outside these really really inflexible structures he’s set up around himself for like. stability and keeping himself upright for a really long time, and that even someone halfway decent won’t disrespect the boundaries he still has about it at any given moment. man there’s a lot in this episode isn’t there

- the sigh din gave when he saw even more pirates coming and knew he had to get back up... never has a single moment in cinema better captured how I feel about being alive. most relatable man in the world din djarin

- it was really cruel of them to make me listen to din’s dead bleak voice say ‘the child is gone’ again, it wrecks my heart every goddamn time 

- again... I wish carano wasn’t Like That in real life because the cara & fennec scenes should have been everything I could ever dream. ah well fennec was still wonderful and if I just allow myself to think in-universe for a few seconds it was really touching that din would entrust cara with his entire armour, that’s some prime BrOTP energy right there

I love that we got two female characters who were just allies and working together, no competition or nothin’. listen the bar is low but it’s nice to see something actually leap gracefully over it as well lol

- this was one of those with some pretty big open plot holes (why, exactly, would a scan of a completely unknown face be helpful to get into this classified system lol), but a) I don’t care, the emotional storyline was so sound it doesn’t really matter and b) eh handwave handwave let’s say mayfeld programmed that little stick with the good shit and overrode the code saying there needed to be an identity match within the system, it’s all fine 

- I know I joke a lot about this but din really is one of the most relatable characters I’ve ever had. just watching him struggle with eye contact and going pretty much nonverbal under enough stress is like. wow a bit close to home there could we, perhaps, nOT?? (honestly though these are trauma/anxiety things I really don’t see portrayed a lot, especially in protagonists, it’s so odd but healing to see it in a character I love and who’s EXTREMELY competent in many other settings)

- din repeating gideon’s speech back to him word for word (except for the crucial detail that he calls grogu ‘him’ instead of ‘it’ 😭😭😭) and saying nothing else is truly Everything. I’ve said some stuff about din’s deliberate and thoughtful relationship to language in the past and this is such an amazing example of it; he’s remembered that pitch perfect all this time, he’s kept it around in his head and mulled it over and then redeployed it to change the meaning of it completely from dehumanization to love. can you. can you even imagine. and it’s yet another example of his hilarious wonderful petty streak and I can never get enough of it fasjhdfkjalhs    

- din always noticing the children first and foremost Y_______Y (the kids running by is the only thing you see him sort of acknowledge when he’s walking into the covert in season 1 too)  

- please... please I just need him to be able to hold that baby against his chest all safe and sound and okay again I can’t it’s........ hh

NO SEASON END CLIFF HANGER ON THIS I AM  B E G G I N G  YOU 

- I would be having some thoughts about how much space there actually is on slave 1 and what that might mean (do not kill boba again please don’t kill him again), but honestly there’s only ‘GET BABY’ hours in here now, I can’t speculate about anything

[jiangchengrights]

i’d always been rigid before you

also available on ao3

The world around Wei Ying is a delightful shade of, of, fuck, what was it all the  pretentious photography majors have told her? The one that’s all hazy orange and blurred edges. That makes everything feel old and fragile and romantic. The one Wei Ying likes best. It’s not black and white or the one on, on, dague-daguerreotype, but a-

“A calotype,” Wei Ying mumbles to herself, rubbing at her eyes as she stares at the ceiling from her spot on the ground. The world is only spinning a little bit, “Sepia!”

“Shut up, Wei Wuxian,” Jiang Cheng throws at her, lacking all the heat it normally carries. Probably because he’s also fairly drunk. Makes him softer, like a cat. Wei Ying giggles to herself and reaches a hand out, wrapping warm fingers around Jiang Cheng’s ankle, pleased when he lets it rest there, “Did you order your food or not?”

“Oh!” she gasps, using his leg as support to claw her way up and into a sitting position, squinting one eye shut so she can focus on the tiny little words that light up her screen. Why were her letters so small? Why didn’t she set them to be big, like when she reset Jiang Fengimen’s for him? Absolute fool, she thinks to herself as she navigates the doordash app, hoping beyond hope that the app doesn’t crash while she’s ordering because she does not have the mental capacity to deal with that right now, “Yes!”

“Good, because if my order gets here before yours, I’m not sharing my fries with you,” Jiang Cheng grumbles, sounding absolutely put upon and yet, Wei Ying thinks smugly to herself, he doesn’t shake her off his leg. She counts that as a win.

“But didi,” she languishes, flopping across his feet dramatically, laughing when he nudges her just on the side of a kick, “I fully plan to share my pancakes with you!”

“I don’t want your pancakes, Wei Wuxian,” Jiang Cheng grumbles, “And you still can’t have my fries.”

She pouts and pouts and whines at the ceiling but gets no further response from Jiang Cheng besides a few grumbles and a grunted out question of horror or comedy? Her cheer of horror! is accepted and her glass is absolutely not refilled because obviously Jiang Cheng hates her. And of course his food does in fact get there first (probably because he’d ordered it a solid twenty minutes before she had even started looking at the iHop online menu but that is neither here nor there) but she does manage to steal an entire handful of fries from him and a sip of his coke because he loves her even if he pretends he doesn’t. Another victory.

She turns her pout towards her phone now, opening the doordash app to message her driver. She wants an ETA on her phone but she’s not willing to risk her food being spit on and she is very grateful that someone out there is willing to brave the cold to bring pancakes directly to her door so instead she opts for a completely casual and friendly, i love you ❤️

She doesn’t really expect a response, figures the doordash driver is busy or unwilling to talk or (hopefully) driving but her phone dings with the standard Hi, this is DoorDash connecting you to your Dasher for updates about your order. And then, I love you too.

She reads the message four times, mouthing the words to her screen with a heavy tongue before she throws her head back to laugh, feeling light and fuzzy because this stranger is playing along with her. She clicks back to her app to check the name of her driver and spends ten minutes tracing the letters on her screen that spell out Hanguang Jun.

Her food arrives with a perfunctory knock and she half stumbles her way to the door, fairly certain the floor is moving erratically beneath her just to slow her down. Even though she yells, “I’m coming, I’m coming, hold on!” (words nearly unintelligible with the way they stumble and slur out of her mouth) and she throws the door open with all her might, she doesn’t make it in time to see her dasher. She thinks she catches a glimpse of long shiny black hair, but really that could be a shadow.

She leaves a five star review on the dasher anyways, for being lovely.

::

The next day she slides into her seat in her criminology class, right at the front, 8AM sharp (8:08). The front row of class is, generally, not her favorite spot, especially in big auditoriums like this. She’d rather be somewhere in the upper middle, where she could sink low if she needed to but still be heard if she has questions or comments. Especially, especially, when she is hungover enough that her ice coffee does nothing to curb the throbbing in her head.

But.

But Lan Zhan likes to sit in the front row and Wei Ying likes to sit next to Lan Zhan. So. So she will suffer through her Professor’s half glare as she stumbles in late and slides into the (thankfully) empty seat next to her. Lan Zhan doesn’t bother looking at her, too busy jotting down little notes in her journal, watching the screen as the professor discusses a future class assignment. Wei Ying sets her drink down carefully and then continues to messily rifle through her bag in search of a scrap of paper and anything to write with and comes up remarkably short.

A carefully sharpened pencil and a neat, small, stack of notebook paper are pushed her way, even as Lan Zhan continues to look forward. It’s so small and stupid but it has Wei Ying grinning like a fool, leaning close enough into Lan Zhan’s shoulder to whisper, thank you, lan zhan, my hero. She’s fairly certain Lan Zhan mostly just tolerates her, but god, tolerates her in the nicest way possible.

She turns back around and listens for the rest of class. By “listen” she means she is secretly recording the lecture on her phone, which she will absolutely listen to later, and maintains half attention while also drawing a bunny on one of the sheets Lan Zhan gave her. She’s pretty certain bunnies are Lan Zhan’s favorite and so she is ever perfecting the art of drawing them; realistically, cartoon-esque, blocky orbs that mostly just look funny to Wei Ying herself, but in all ways she practices. This one looks pretty good, she decides halfway through class, and so she will give it to Lan Zhan when their professor finally stops talking.

(It crosses her mind that Lan Zhan might not appreciate the waste of her own paper but she hopes the cuteness of the bunny will make up for that)

She’s just adding the finishing touches to the piece when the professor wraps up class, the music of end of class clatter lighting up the room; laptops and notebooks being shut, zipped away safely in backpacks. Wei Ying has no such noise, being that none of the supplies on her desk are her own besides her mostly empty coffee cup. She turns to Lan Zhan without a second thought, tapping lightly on her shoulder, and smiling what her sister calls her “winning smile” (Jiang Cheng refers to it as her “shit eating grin” and that is why he is not her favorite sister. Although, he still holds the title for her favorite brother. Don’t tell him that) as Lan Zhan tilts her head gracefully in her direction.

“For you!” she half shouts, giddy like a small child, pressing the drawing into Lan Zhan’s notebook.

“Me?” Lan Zhan questions, brows furrowing just the slightest amount, enough for Wei Ying to have to fight the urge to reach out and smooth the lines that crinkle there. Her eyes widen, though, when she looks down and sees the bunny and god, oh my god, her lips pull up on one side in what is definitely a Lan-Zhan-smile. She is smiling and all because of Wei Ying.

“Bunny,” is all she says, sounding reverent as her fingers reach out to stroke the page, as if it might carry any of the real softness of rabbit fur.

This is the best day of Wei Ying’s life.

“I thought you liked them!” Wei Ying shouts, oblivious of the students who are trying to filter out of their seats around them. She leans to the side, so that her forehead touches Lan Zhan’s shoulder, just enough pressure to really feel each other and says, “Thank you for always taking care of me, Lan Zhan!”

Lan Zhan is stiff beneath her, but she nods anyways and then reaches out to carefully fold around the rabbit and place it safely in her notebook, humming as she does. She’s keeping it. When Wei Ying lifts her head off the girl’s shoulder, Lan Zhan fully turns to look at her, eyes scrutinizing everything from Wei Ying’s twisted ponytail to the bags under her eyes, “I am surprised Wei Ying is here today.”

“What!” Wei Ying squawks, “This is my favorite class!” this is my lan-zhan-class!

“Mn,” Lan Zhan nods, and then purses her lips when she catches sight of the coffee sweating on the corner of Wei Ying’s desk, “Wei Ying should drink more water.”

“Ahh, there you go again!” Wei Ying laughs, finally hefting her bag onto her shoulder and moving to stand up, “Always trying to take care of me!”

The tips of Lan Zhan’s ears turn tomato red and she doesn’t respond to that comment, so Wei Ying figures Lan Zhan’s tolerance for her up for the day. Ah, well, she had a good run today! Enough to hold her off until Wednesday (that is, unless she sees Lan Zhan walking around on campus between now and then. She’s never had very good self-control around Lan Zhan).

“I’ll see you on Wednesday, Lan Zhan!” she calls over her shoulder as she bounces her way out of the class. She’ll draw a better bunny on Wednesday, she’s sure, one good enough to make Lan Zhan look at her twice. She will.

::

She’s halfway through her jog on Tuesday when Wen Qing calls her. She answers the phone without bothering to stop running, much to the distaste of Wen Qing, who has to listen to her pant.

“We’re drinking tonight,” is how Wen Qing starts this conversation.

“Wow, hello to you too,” Wei Ying says through heavy breathes, just to be an asshole, “I’m good today, how are you?”

“I’m fucking shitty, why else would I be calling you up?” Wen Qing snaps, as though she doesn’t call Wei Ying minimum three times a week on top of lunch dates every Thursday.

“What happened?” Wei Ying asks, rounding the corner of the park and heading in a straight line towards her apartment complex.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Wen Qing says, sounding remarkably impatient for someone who started this phone call. And with Wei Wuxian of all people.

“Ah,” Wei Ying nods to herself, “So Mianmian then.”

“I didn’t say that!” Wen Qing snaps.

“Didn’t have to,” Wei Ying reminds her, coming to the flight of stairs that lead to her apartment, “I know of all your woes, Qing-jie.”

“You don’t know shit,” she hears from multiple angles.

“Are you already-” she begins asking, but cuts herself off when she reaches the top of the stairs and sees Wen Qing standing angrily outside her door, two bottles of Vodka in hand, “Alright then.”

“Just open the door, Wei Wuxian,” Wen Qing demands, stepping aside as Wei Ying comes closer, “I’m tired of holding these fucking bottles.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Wei Ying laughs, unlocking the door, “Make yourself comfortable.”

“You know I will.”

::

The world is once again hazy, less nice this time because her stomach still feels a little squirmy from the last hangover. She misses her recovery time from high school (read: no hangovers ever), now she’s just an old lady who can only drink, like, once a week. A tragedy.

Yet, here she is, on the floor once again because she seems to always end up on the floor when she’s drunk. It’s a nice spot; safe and big, big enough to spread her long limbs out wide.

“I want pancakes,” she says to the ceiling fan, expecting no response.

Instead she gets, “You already ordered your fucking pancakes, it’s not my fault you always take forever to actually order.”

“But Qing-jie!” she whines, rolling on her side to give Wen Qing her puppy dog eyes, “You got your food so quick and I’m still waiting.”

“Again, not my fault,” Wen Qing snaps before shoving an ungodly amount of burrito into her mouth, “Just message your driver to see where they’re at.”

“Oh yeah!!” she whips out her phone so fast it goes flying across the room and she has to crawl on her belly like a snake to get it. Her driver’s name is weird, Hanguang Jun, familiar even though it’s strange and... “It’s my driver from last Sunday!”

“Okay?” Wen Qing says around her burrito, rolling her eyes when Wei Ying waves her off.

u r my soulmate, she sends with zero hesitation, grinning when her phone buzzes almost immediately.

Hi, this is DoorDash connecting you to your Dasher for updates about your order. It says, yet again, and then, Really.

So dry, so cute! Wei Ying doesn’t know this person but she likes them already. The ability to play into her antics is not one possessed by everyone, so she will value it when she finds it, yes 😳

I am glad to know that, Hanguang Jun replies in an instant.

Wei Ying wants to play it really cool and really fun but she’s also absolutely starving and so she sends, what’s going on over there

A long line.

Then, because she decides she wants to go back to being fun she types out, its okay just hold on i cant wait to see u

I cannot wait to see you either.

And then Wei Ying just about dies and stays that way, arm thrown over her eyes and groaning like a fool on the vaguely dirty carpet of her apartment until she notices Wen Qing trying to fill her cup once again.

“Wen Qing, don’t drink all the Vodka!” she shouts right as there is a knock on the door and she jumps up, hoping if she hustles to the door she can see the illustrious Hanguang Jun this time. It’s a no-go, but she does find her food placed neatly on her doorstep with a small handwritten note that says For my soulmate.

So five stars once again.

::

She slides into her seat somehow even more haggard than on Monday and barely has time to look at Lan Zhan, sitting prim in her seat, hair straight and long, with a powder blue sweater over a white dress shirt and a short black skirt to match, long legs covered by black tights, before the other girl thrusts a huge water bottle her way.

“Drink,” Lan Zhan says by way of greeting, staring Wei Ying down until she hesitantly opens the bottle and takes a sip, smiling unsure when she pulls away.

“Lan Zhan?” she asks, screwing the cap back on slowly.

“Water is good for Wei Ying,” she states, turning away. Wei Ying stares at her for a second more and then nods, pulling out her now-found notebook with a smile.

“It’s almost like you care about me, Lan Zhan,” She whispers, smirking when she sees Lan Zhan’s fingers tighten around her pencil.

Lan Zhan doesn’t dignify that with a response, so she leaves it alone for now, tuning back to her own page to maybe take notes this class. Maybe.

::

Lan Zhan follows her out of class that day, lets Wei Ying latch onto her arm like a fool and chatter away as they mill about the crowds of other undergrad students. She hmms and mms at all the right moments and sometimes, very rarely but sometimes, she seems to cling back to Wei Ying as much as Wei Ying clings to her.

Wei Ying is a little in love.

Before she can do something stupid, like say that, Lan Zhan turns, and meets the eyes of Nie Mingjue, who looks smug and stern as he pulls his phone out of his pocket. Lan Zhan’s eyes widen and she hastens to disentangle herself from Wei Ying’s grasp, taking a side step away.

“Hey isn’t that your brother’s best friend?” Wei Ying asks, but by the time she looks up Lan Zhan is gone, lost in the throng of people.

Wei Ying stands alone in the quad center as people mill around her, feeling lost and a little hurt by the sudden vanish of her friend, meeting Nie Mingjue’s pitying gaze only once before she hustles along to the buses.

::

Lan Zhan had done this in high school, too. Had run away from Wei Ying anytime someone significant came into view of them. Had shoved Wei Ying off and called her shameless and walked away from her without ever turning around. Wei Ying remembers a lot of Lan Zhan’s back, always walking away, always a little out of reach.

That was okay though, they were kids, still working through everything. Wei Ying always assumed it was just hormones or Lan Zhan working through her own inner gay crisis combined with Wei Ying’s own puberty induced irritatingness. She assumed that would stop now; they were adults and Lan Zhan had really come into her own and Wei Ying had calmed down ever so slightly. What did it matter if her brother saw her with Wei Ying? What could it hurt?

Just Wei Ying, it turns out. It could hurt Wei Ying.

::

Wei Ying spends maybe, slightly, too much money on food delivery. It’s just, she always wants food when she’s drunk and she’s very against drinking and driving and she never has the forethought to get food before she starts drinking so here she is.

Your driver is on their way! The app notifies her and only then does she remember to check who is picking the food up for her, squealing when she sees the name.

Hanguang jun!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hi, this is DoorDash connecting you to your Dasher for updates about your order. She gets and then, Yes.

its u again!!!

Hanguang Jun: It is me.

Wei Ying: u r the love of my life

Hanguang Jun: I thought I was your soulmate?

Wei Ying: r u saying u cant be both 🥺

Hanguang Jun: I can be whatever you need.

That has Wei Ying blushing from head to toe in her thankfully empty apartment. She has to take a moment to breathe before she can reply with, ah so smooth hanguang jun

There is a brief pause, one that has Wei Ying waiting, staring at her phone with a too cheesy smile on her face, Mn. For you.

She squeals in excitement so loud she almost misses the knock on the door. It's distracting enough to slow her down, so still no sight of Hanguang Jun tonight. Their chat disconnects but it’s okay, there will be a next time.

(Wei Ying hopes there will be a next time).

Rate your dasher: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

::

Wei Ying’s criminology class is not a small class. Small classes have order and structure; you get to know your fellow classmates and an informal seating chart begins to appear usually after the second week of class. This one, however, is set in a wide auditorium that fills with too many students to even know any of them, who always seem to be moving around, always in new spots. Which is why it continually surprises Wei Ying that her spot is always empty and waiting for her when she stumbles in ten minutes late. She voices this out loud only to receive an eye roll from Lan Zhan.

“It is Wei Ying’s spot,” is all she says, turning forward once again. And it is her spot but that’s not the point of Wei Ying’s argument, now is it?

“Hmph,” she sighs to herself, digging around in her bag until she finds the two bunny pens she had purchased this weekend on a whim at some novelty store. They’re both silicone smooth, with rounded bunny heads on the end and ears that extend maybe a bit too far. She pushes the black one onto Lan Zhan’s desk and whispers, “That one is for you.”

“For...me?” Lan Zhan asks, lips parting as she looks down at the pen in her hand and then back up at Wei Ying, the hint of a smile in her cheeks.

“Of course! You’re my favorite Lan Zhan, who else would I buy a pen for?” she says back, feeling utterly pleased with herself to have gained such a positive reaction, wiggling closer in her seat to press her arm against Lan Zhan, “You’re my favorite.”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan calls, not quite a whisper, but soft and intense, one of her hands reaching out to grab at Wei Ying’s own. Wei Ying is delighted to find the other girl has rough calluses on the tips of her fingers that scrape gently against her knuckles, “Thank you.”

“Lan Zhan, ah, it’s no big deal, really,” she whispers, suddenly shy, using her free hand to rub at the back of her neck, “I was just thinking about you, you know?”

Lan Zhan stares at her for just a beat too long, before she pulls away entirely. Before Wei Ying can panic, though, she neatly puts her original pen away and picks up the bunny pen, smiling down at her notebook as she writes her notes, trying to hide the biggest smile Wei Ying has ever seen from the other girl.

She’s so warm next to Wei Ying and she never looks like she even considers switching away from the bunny pen even though it's surely not as nice as the gel one she’d been using before. When the professor dismisses them a mere minute and a half before their class is scheduled to end, Wei Ying finds herself in a panic, desperate not to let Lan Zhan slip away just yet.

“Hey,” she says, one hand reaching out lightning fast to grasp Lan Zhan’s elbow, “Do you want to get coffee?”

Lan Zhan frowns, goes to open her mouth but doesn’t manage to get a single sound out before Wei Ying half shouts, “Tea! Tea! I know you like tea instead of coffee, let’s get tea, Lan Zhan.”

Lan Zhan stares at her long enough that Wei Ying begins to squirm in her seat, words on the tip of her tongue to take it all back, rescind her existence entirely when Lan Zhan asks, “Wei Ying...knows I like tea?”

“Well, yes,” Wei Ying nods, hoping this doesn’t make her seem like she’s been paying too much attention to Lan Zhan, “It’s just, you never bring coffee to class, always tea. So, I just, like, assumed. But, tea?”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan says, “Let’s get tea.”

::

So they get tea in what is the best and most excruciating forty five minutes of Wei Ying’s entire life. Lan Zhan sits across from her with the poise and beauty of a marble statue, sharp lines carved from stone only to be softened when she laughs at Wei Ying’s silliness. She steeps jasmine tea in a teacup and bats it around with a spoon, slow, careful, sure enough in her practiced movements that Wei Ying finds herself enraptured, watching those fingers with a single minded focus. She’s never been enraptured by tea before. She doesn’t even really like tea.

They sit close enough that their knees brush every once in a while, whenever Lan Zhan recrossses her legs and it's enough to send sparks up Wei Ying’s leg, through her sweatpant clad knee. It is the best feeling in the world, she’s sure. And yet, also a special kind of hell to sit here, next to a Goddess and not be able to reach out and touch, to ask for more.

She wishes Lan Zhan wanted more.

But, she’ll take friendship and tea over nothing, so she keeps her complaints to herself and regails Lan Zhan with every funny story she can think of, preening when Lan Zhan smiles at her.

“I had to explain to my professor the entire concept of Star Trek, Lan Zhan. Like I had to sit there in this highly academic room and be all well you see, sir, the entire doctrine of the Prime Directive contradicts everything he just said so that’s really not a suitable analogy to make. And I’m not even the one who brought it up!” she half yells, throwing her hands up in exasperation, “Now I’m the one who looks like some kind of scifi nerd to our professor!”

“Hmm,” Lan Zhan hums, blowing into the steam of her tea, “Wei Ying has seen Star Trek though?”

“Well, yes.”

“A lot of it?”

“I mean, what do you consider a lot? That’s very subjective, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying smiles, working around the statement just to be coy, just to see the faint amusement that lights up Lan Zhan’s eyes.

“Wei Ying.”

“I may or may not have seen all of it, but that is so not the point!” Wei Ying counters, pointing her finger at Lan Zhan just to make her point.  

“It seems then,” Lan Zhan starts, taking a sip of her tea, thoroughly uncowed, “that Wei Ying is some kind of ‘scifi nerd.’”

“Lan Zhan!” she squawks, throwing a hand over her heart in faux hurt, “I have never felt more betrayed than in this moment, more hurt, more wounded, more heartbroken.”

“Mn, Wei Ying has had it easy then,” Lan Zhan nods, tracing the rim of her teacup with the tip of her finger, “Someone has to make it more difficult for her. What did you say earlier? It ‘builds character’?”

“Lan Zhan!” she squeezes the hand over her heart more intensely, sighing long and winded, “How could you do this to me, Lan Zhan, your dearest Wei Ying?”

Lan Zhan’s eyes move from roaming over Wei Ying’s face, to glance over her shoulder, widening slightly at whatever she sees. She stands without another word, fumbles with her wallet to drop a note on the table and says, “I must leave now, Wei Ying.”

Lan Zhan leaves without a second glance, turning away from the front entrance which is a much straighter shot out of the cafe and onto the main street, to quite literally sneak out of the side door, that leads only to an alley and a trash can. Wei Ying stares after her, shocked mostly, until she hears the front bell chime. She turns to see a man walk in with dark silky hair, wide shoulders, and well tailored clothes set in a deep blue that compliments his skin perfectly. He wears a warm smile and allows the smaller man next to him to walk ahead, a hand rested firmly but respectfully on the small of his back.

Lan Xichen.

Ah, Wei Ying thinks to herself as it dawns on her, spinning around the spoon in her tea idly, feeling brittle and cracked all at once, she just didn’t want to be seen with me in front of her brother.

That’s fine, it really is. So maybe nothing has really changed since high school. They weren’t friends then and they aren’t now, not really. Wei Ying was foolish to ever get her hopes up for anything more. She 100% understands. She is loud, and talks with her mouth full, and once almost got kicked out of university just a little bit. She should have expected this, if she was being honest with herself.

She still can’t manage to bring the smile back to her face though.

::

She manages an entire three days of being sad and not drunk before Wen Ning waltzes into her apartment unannounced (when he got a key she will never know) and plies her with long island iced teas.

“She’s just so nice, A-Ning,” Wei Ying moans, face down on the floor, “She’s so nice and pretty, god she’s so pretty A-Ning, and she’s always wearing these skirts, her legs are to die for.”

“But she did not want to be seen with you?” Wen Ning clarifies from where he sits, perched on her couch, leaning over to place another drink next to her head.

“No,” Wei Ying whimpers again, sounding absolutely miserable. She knows she might be acting a bit over dramatic, it's just, she’s known Lan Zhan since she was fourteen, had followed her around then, berating her until she got a reaction. And maybe that had been nothing more than a nuisance to Lan Zhan but it had meant a lot to Wei Ying. Too much probably. She had cried actual tears of joy when she discovered they had both enrolled at the same university, that first semester on campus. And sure maybe they weren’t best friends of anything but Lan Zhan was one hundred percent Wei Ying’s sexual awakening.

And Wei Ying just might be a little, tiny bit in love with her. Or like, on the road to being in love. Very close. In need of only a few kind words and maybe for Lan Zhan to kiss her.

“Hey,” Jiang Cheng snaps from the other side of the room, like actually snaps his fingers at her until she lifts her head to look at him, “Listen, you stupid little peabrain. Stop thinking with your dick and start thinking with your head.”

“I don’t have a dick,” she complains, rubbing her cheek into the carpet, “Maybe if I did, Lan Zhan would be less embarrassed of me.”

That earns her a pillow thrown straight at her head, “Peabrain! If she doesn’t want to be seen with you, that’s not nice.”

“But-”

“Being pretty doesn’t make her nice!”

“She-”

“Having nice legs doesn’t make her nice!”

“But she is nice!” Wei Ying shouts, pushing herself up enough to sit as she stares angrily down at Jiang Cheng, “She lets me sit next to her in class, and smiles when I give her bunnies, and puts up with me whispering to myself while the teacher talks and-”

“All I hear is puts up with and lets me, Wei Wuxian, that’s not what nice is!” Jiang Cheng shouts right back, glaring at her the whole time, “You should waste your time on someone who is actually nice to you.”

“I am.”

“Would you ever let me date someone who was ashamed of me, Wei Wuxian?” Jiang Cheng asks, face serious as he leans in closer to her, “I’m your didi, would you let someone treat me like that? Would you let me treat me like that?”

She doesn’t have a response for that so she lays in silence, staring at the blades of the ceiling fan that spin around and around and around.

“Maybe she is very nice, Wei Ying,” Wen Ning interjects, breaking the silence, reaching one hand out to pet Wei Ying’s hair, “But maybe Wei Ying should be nice to herself too. Do you feel good right now? Have you been nice to yourself?”

“You don’t understand and I don’t want to talk to either of you anymore,” Wei Ying pouts and lets herself drop back to the floor, curling on her side around her phone, “And I just want my fucking pancakes.”

She checks her order status and lo and behold, there they are again. Hanguang Jun.

hanguang jun will u be my wife, she asks and then doubles back, im a lesbian.

Hi, this is DoorDash connecting you to your Dasher for updates about your order. She gets and then, Yes.

yes ull b my wife or yes im a lesbian

Hanguang Jun: Yes, I will be your wife.

thats great!!!!!!! Wei Ying sends back, with exactly the right amount of exclamation points, smiling into her phone screen, hey now that we r married will u stay at my door long enough for me to c u

Hanguang Jun: Hm. Are you intoxicated?

hanguang jun what kind of ? is that!!!!! of course i am!!!! why else do people get food delivered!!!!

Hanguang Jun: For many reasons. If you make it to the door fast enough, you will see me.

hanguang jun!!!!!!!

This time, the knock is a barely there tap that Wei Ying is absolutely sure is on purpose and despite picking herself up and essentially running to the door, she still only manages to catch a glimpse of long hair and a blue shirt.

She opens her food in miserable silence, only breaking out of her gloom when she sees the little note: For my wife. written on the lid of the box. She lets herself focus on that instead of the crushing reality of Lan Zhan’s embarrassment of her, smiling every time she shoves a too big bite of pancake into her mouth.

Rate your dasher: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

::

Monday roles around too soon and the next thing Wei Ying knows, she’s skulking into her criminology class exactly twelve minutes late, staring at the empty seat next to Lan Zhan. The thing is, the fresh sting of it all has soothed into a deep ache, more bearable to wear in public. Now she just finds it all awkward. Like, it’s awkward to just all the sudden ditch out on Lan Zhan and try to find some other non-shitty seat somewhere else, right? But it's also awkward to sit next to Lan Zhan when it seems Lan Zhan doesn’t want that, not really, not publicly.

The walk into the classroom is too short to solve any of these problems, so she just slides into her usual seat, carefully keeping her face forward, keeping to her own space instead of spilling out into the seat over to brush against Lan Zhan. Which is. Fine.

She takes studious notes and never once lets her eyes waver to the seat next to her. It takes a lot of mental energy. When the class is over, she doesn’t bother digging her stuff back into her bag, her only thoughts on how to get out of there as fast as she can, gathering them all into a messy pile in her arms and standing before the professor has even said goodbye.

“Wei Ying,” a quiet voice says next to her, a gentle reaching out to cup the ball of her elbow. Wei Ying takes a single deep breath and turns back around with a hopefully believable smile on her face. The black bunny pen is laid haphazardly across Lan Zhan’s notes. She was still using the pen. Ah, Lan Zhan is so nice, Wei Ying thinks to herself even as she feels her bottom lip wobble dangerously.

“Ah, Lan Zhan, I’m kind of in a rush today, okay? Gotta get going!” she chirps, looking anywhere but the steady hand that still hold her arm. Lan Zhan stares up at her, trying to meet her eyes, sighing when she seems to realize Wei Ying has no intention of looking away from the floor.

“Okay, Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan sighs again, letting go of her arm to fold her hands properly across her lap, “I will see you on Wednesday.”

“Yeah, totally, for sure,” Wei Ying chants and skids out of the aisle as fast as she possibly can, never once looking back. She doesn’t see Lan Zhan watch her leave, a tiny confused frown painting her lips.

::

This time, Wei Ying isn’t even the one to make the first move. She doordashes chocolate and gatorade and mini donuts from the nearest gas station and decides to sulk on her couch until it arrives (and ignore the paper she should be writing. She has time though, it’s not due for another 43 hours).

Her phone chimes from where it rests on the couch next to her, revealing a doordash message.

Hi, this is DoorDash connecting you to your Dasher for updates about your order.

Hanguang Jun: Are you drinking at 10:30 in the morning?

is that judgement i hear, Wei Ying responds, snorting a laugh as she does. Hanguang Jun might just be a fuddy duddy.

Hanguang Jun: We are speaking through an instant messaging service. You do not hear anything.

potato tomato, Wei Ying responds, just to be difficult and then a quick, also no im not drinking im just sad

The pause after this is long, stretching out enough that Wei Ying sets her phone down entirely and turns her attention back to the shitty soap opera she was watching, when the phone dings again.

Hanguang Jun: Why are you sad?

hanguang jun so invasive! She responds with a laugh, adding, i guess u r my wife now it is ur right to know

Hanguang Jun: Mn. Have to keep track of you.

hanguang jun! Wei Ying would yell if they were talking in person. Hell, she yells now into the fabric of her pillow, ur making me blush

Hanguang Jun: Good.

anyways, Wei Ying directs, because it seems otherwise they’ll just keep going in a circle of Wei Ying blushing and Hangunag Jun being, well, whatever it is they are being, there is a girl.

Hanguang Jun: A girl?

a perfect girl. the best, most beautiful girl, way out of my league, Wei Ying explains, hoping that with this fresh new person she can convey just how wonderful Lan Zhan is, seeing as how that didn’t go over well with Jiang Cheng and Wen Ning (although, Wei Ying is pretty sure Jiang Cheng has hated Lan Zhan since high school, she’s just not ready to unpack that yet), but she doesnt like me back. or like at all really i dont think she even wants to be friends with me

Hanguang Jun: You are sure of this?

yes!!!! Wei Ying sends back, rapid fire, she presents all of the wei-ying-is-annoying vibes

Hanguang Jun: And what, exactly, are the ‘Wei Ying is annoying vibes’?

well thats just too much to answer theres so many, Wei Ying, sinking deeper and deeper into the crest of her couch; this conversation is definitely not making her feel better the way she hoped it would.

Hanguang Jun: Hm. This seems unlikely.

unlikely????

Hanguang Jun: Mn. Wei Ying is a delight to be around, impossible to dislike her.

hanGUANG JUN

Hanguang Jun: Then how do you expect someone to show they like you? Romantically speaking.

oh thats easy, she types, thinking about the things she wants Lan Zhan to say to her, just ask me to get food really. im always down for food i think its a good first date, so if i say no to that i definitely dont like u lol

Hm, is all Hanguang Jun has left to say so Wei Ying goes back to being sad on her couch and dutifully waits for her cool blue gatorade and kitkat bar, not even bothering to run to the door when she hears the knock. She’s fairly positive Hanguang Jun isn’t planning on waiting around for her anyways. She still rates her five stars though; doesn’t want to fuck up her rating or whatever.

::

She repeats her routine, slinking into class late and trying her very hardest not to be a nuisance to Lan Zhan, leaning in the opposite direction and keeping her elbows to herself. Better to not annoy the other girl anymore than she already has. She thinks back to the beginning of the semester, when she’d draped herself all over Lan Zhan, happy and sure of herself, only now all she hears over the memory is Lan Zhan’s voice, angry and disappointed as she calls Wei Ying shameless.

Wei Ying does, in fact, have shame. A lot of it. Too much of it. Enough to keep her quiet and complacent for the hour and twenty minutes she must sit beside Lan Zhan knowing well enough the other girl doesn’t even respect her enough to be seen with her in public.

She tries to slip out of class as quickly as possible but there is Lan Zhan’s hand again, shooting out to grab her and pull her back.

“Wei Ying,” she says, eyebrows furrowing in that way they always do when she’s stressed about something. It takes all of Wei Wuxian’s restraint to not reach out and soothe the taught skin there back into place. Would Lan Zhan like that? Be okay with Wei Ying touching her like that in front of everyone? “I would like to ask you a question.”

“Oh,” Wei Ying nods to herself, fingers digging into the notebook she holds tight against her chest, “Is it about the homework? Ah, Lan Zhan you know you’re better at this than I am anyways.”

“It is not about the homework, no,” Lan Zhan shakes her head, looking solemn, shoulders drawn up as she rises from her seat, her bag resting over her shoulder, neatly packed up like she’s geared up to make a quick getaway too, “Would you like to get pancakes with me?”

Even the word makes her sweat. All the nights she’s spent eating pancakes (they’re her go to drunken craving) only to throw up the surgery sweetness later, to feel it twisting around in her alcohol burned stomach, acid and sugar making her raw and dizzy and nauseated; so good when she’s eating them under an alcohol induced haze and utterly ruined for her when she’s sober.

“Oh,” she says, shaking her head, “No, I don’t like pancakes.”

Wei Ying’s mouth is still open, about to suggest a different option, when Lan Zhan’s whole face shutters in a range of emotions Wei Ying can’t dare to name, and ends in smooth porcelain, eyes no longer meeting Wei Ying’s own, but staring past her likes she burns to look at.

“I see,” Lan Zhan says in a tone so flat, Wei Ying feels a little hysterical, what does she see what does she see, “Goodbye, Wei Ying.”

Lan Zhan is out of the classroom before Wei Ying can grab her, though she calls to her long after she loses sight of Lan Zhan’s baby blue scrunchy, lost in the crowd of undergrads milling about, always in Wei Ying’s way.

Lan Zhan had looked at her like Wei Ying had said exactly what she’d feared only that didn’t make sense. How could Wei Ying have let her down when Lan Zhan had no hopes for her to begin with?

::

She drinks with Nie Huaisang that night and orders food and some random named Athony delivers it to her. She doesn’t opt to message him.

She only eats half of her pancakes, feeling incredibly abandoned and incredibly lonely.

::

On Monday she gets to class early. Like actually early, as in fifteen minutes before the class is even scheduled to begin, not just on time. It’s a first for her and she’s very proud. She’d hoped that Lan Zhan wouldn’t be there yet, that she could set up her stuff in peace and then when Lan Zhan came into the classroom she could see where Wei Ying was and decide if she wanted to sit next to her or not. She’d looked so upset on Wednesday, afterall.

But, of course, Lan Zhan is already there.

She looks gorgeous from where she sits, posture straight, perfect, shoulders drawn back making her look confident. Untouchable. Her makeup is lightly done and perfectly applied, lips shiny with tinted chapstick, notebook ready on her desk, bunny pen laid gently on top of that. And in the spot next to her, Wei Ying’s seat, rests her bag, taking up the entirety of the table, a warning to all intruders.

Wei Ying walks up extra slowly, trying to determine whether or not she is welcome, tiptoeing her way down the aisle, hoping Lan Zhan won’t look at her, hoping she will.

“Is this seat taken?” she asks, her voice nothing more than a whisper, not loud enough for others to hear, ready to be hurt.

“It is Wei Ying’s seat,” Lan Zhan replies instead, keeping her eyes on the ground even as her hand reaches out to pull it out of Wei Ying’s way. This is the first time Wei Ying has seen it up close, has gotten to see the little cloud patterns, the letters embroidered into the fabric, spelling out, h a n g u -

Hanguang Jun.

Hanguang Jun!!!

“Hanguang Jun?” she blurts out before she can stop herself, “You, you’re...”

“Wei Ying?” Lan Zhan asks, only now looking up at her, that same confused furrow to her brow, “It is my nickname, from high school, from the-”

“From the volleyball team,” Wei Ying nods with dawning horror, “You are you, do you, Lan Zhan, was that you the whole time?”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says, nods to herself really, as if the simple act of saying her name provided comfort, “I thought you knew.”

“I didn’t, I thought, I didn’t know,” she finishes lamely, feeling her cheeks burn as she thinks back to all the things she had sent to Hanguang Jun. She looks down at the bag to keep her eyes focused elsewhere and remembers, “Hey it’s on my desk.”

“Yes?” Lan Zhan replies, though it feels like more of a question.

“Have you been saving me a seat this whole time? Is that how I managed to get a good seat this whole semester, even though I was late everyday?”

Lan Zhan’s ears go red, stark against the black hair tucked behind them, but she nods firmly, unashamed, “It is Wei Ying’s seat.”

“You, you actually, you wanted me to sit next to you?” Wei Ying asks, feeling only halfway hysterical, “I didn’t force myself on you? You’re not embarrassed to be seen with me?”

Lan Zhan’s frown deepens at this, angry, “Could never be embarrassed of Wei Ying.”

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan-” Wei Ying begins, only to be cut off by their professor.

“Everyone, please take a seat,” Professor Whoever The Hell says, making eye contact with Wei Ying and she sits down, utterly stunned.

“Lan Zhan,” she whispers when he turns around, “Can we talk after class?”

Lan Zhan looks at her for a long time then, calculating, assessing, before nodding her head with a firm, “Mn.”

::

Before either of them can escape, Wei Ying tangles her fingers with Lan Zhan’s and drags her out of the class behind her, pulling her into a little alcove surrounded by trees with little dangly purple flowers. It would be pretty on any other day when Wei Ying doesn’t feel like she’s about to burst out of her rib cage.

“Lan Zhan, it was you the whole time?” she asks again, still a little dazed from that realization.

“Yes, Wei Ying,” she nods, still hiding her eyes from Wei Ying, “Was certain you knew, thought you were...”

“You thought I was??” Wei Ying urges, a hand reaching out for Lan Zhan before she can stop herself.

“Thought you were flirting with me,” Lan Zhan admits, in nothing louder than a whisper, shaking her head as she does, “It is stupid.”

“It wasn’t!” Wei Ying half shouts, throwing her hands in the air, “It wasn’t, it wasn’t, Lan Zhan, I promise.”

“You did not know it was me, and...” Lan Zhan trails off again, wringing her hands together in front of her. It is the most unsure of herself Wei Ying has ever seen her; it breaks her heart just to watch.

“And what? Lan Zhan, you have to tell me,” Wei Ying all out begs, gasping when Lan Zhan’s eyes finally raise to meet her own; they’re red rimmed and miserable.

“Wei Ying said no,” she says after a long while, lips twisting in a grimace, “Wei Ying said no to food, so she definitely doesn’t like me.”

“I didn’t say no to you!” Wei Ying shouts, loud enough to attract the attention of passersby, “I said no to pancakes, not you!”

“Wei Ying, please, do not patronize me,” Lan Zhan resists, eyes hardening even though she is still clearly sad. God, how could Wei Ying have missed how sad she was? “I have been delivering pancakes to Wei Ying for weeks.”

“That’s exactly it!” Wei Ying rushes out, one hand shooting out to wrap around Lan Zhan’s wrist like she’s afraid the other girl might run away, “That’s what drunk me eats! And I always, always get sick, Lan Zhan! I can’t eat them when I’m sober, I’ll puke!”

“You...don’t like pancakes,” Lan Zhan repeats, working the words around her mouth like she’s trying to make sense of them, “But you do like...me.”

“Yes! Lan Zhan I like you so much! And I would’ve asked you out sooner!” she shouts again, and then realizes where she’s led this conversation. The shame burns in her cheeks so she focuses on digging the tip of her shoe into the ground, “I would’ve asked you out, but I thought you were embarrassed to be seen with me.”

The words still taste bitter in her mouth, ache in her throat and burn her cheeks but she’s said them, they’re out in the open and now they can deal with them. She expects a scoff, maybe an eye roll. She does not expect two soft hands to cup her cheeks, forcing her to look up, rubbing soothing circles into the skin there.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan scolds, “Could never be embarrassed of you. Wei Ying is...Wei Ying is everything.”

“But you, you hid. From your brother and Meng Yao and Nie Mingjue, because you were,” her mouth twists uncomfortably at this, the memory of being abandoned in the cafe fresh enough to hurt her feelings, “because you were with me.”

“Ah,” Lan Zhan says, the tips of her ears turning red again. Good, Wei Ying thinks, We can be embarrassed together, “That was not...because of you, more like...about you.”

“Huh?”

“Brother is...he likes...” Lan Zhan trails off, letting one of her hands drop from Wei Ying’s cheek to her neck and Wei Ying is not about to let her get away  just like that so she reaches out her own hand, grabbing onto Lan Zhan’s hip and dragging her closer. This seems to make Lan Zhan release all of her tension at once; a full body shudder goes through her as she dives into the crevice of Wei Ying’s neck, hiding there, safe, and mumbles something completely unintelligible.

“What was that, Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying asks, petting a single hand down Lan Zhan’s back through her hair and up again.

“Brother likes to tease,” Lan Zhan breathes into Wei Ying’s skin, one hand digging tight into Wei Ying’s ribcage, “He knows of my...feelings for you, if he had seen us at the cafe he would have, and Wei Ying I was sure you didn’t, there was no...reciprocation.”

“Ah, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, you hid because you didn’t want to get teased?” Wei Ying laughs, delighted, as she pulls back from Lan Zhan to get a good look at her, eyes sparkling, “Lan Zhan, that’s so cute.”

Lan Zhan dives back into her shoulder and bites in retaliation, muttering, “Wei Ying is cuter.”

Wei Ying lets her stay there for awhile, petting her hair and wiggling as close as she can get before finally asking, “Hey, you wanna get some food with me?”

Lan Zhan draws back to look over Wei Ying’s face and must like what she sees there because she smiles and presses a half kiss to the corner of Wei Ying’s mouth and nods her head, “Only if Wei Ying will be my girlfriend.”

“Aiyah, Lan Zhan, didn’t I already propose to you?” Wei Ying laughs, laughs even louder when Lan Zhan blushes again. She wags her finger in Lan Zhan’s face, trying her best to look stern, “Don’t think you can back out of our marriage so soon, wife.”

Lan Zhan bites her finger and keeps it there, warm between her teeth, only digging in harder at Wei Ying’s cry of indignation.

“Lan Zhan, you monster, you monster,” Wei Ying laughs, wiggling her finger still on the inside of Lan Zhan’s lips, “Hey, Lan Zhan, you should let go of my finger.”

“Hm.”

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, I can’t kiss you with my finger in the way,” she whines, even as Lan Zhan lets go and moves forward, “Would you deprive your poor wife like this? I waited so long for you-”

Lan Zhan, it turns out, tastes like strawberry chapstick.

::

Four Months Later

Wei Ying wakes up warm and sated, a leg thrown over her waist, a hand slipped inside her shirt, resting casually against the skin of her back, a heavy body breathing softly, rhythmically against her chest.

The moon is still high in the night sky, washing the room in pale silver-white light, turning the skin on Lan Zhan’s neck into cream sheets, soft beneath Wei Ying’s touch. She’s breathing out little huffs of air, dampening the collar of Wei Ying’s sleep shirt but Wei Ying could never find it within herself to complain. Not when she gets this; Lan Wangji safe and content in her bed, never hesitant, never ashamed to pull Wei Ying into her chest and hold her there for hours. To hold Wei Ying as close as she can, like she’s something special. Something important.  

Wei Ying still can eat sober pancakes, she muses as she rubs slow circles into Lan Zhan’s shoulder, thinking about what they’ll eat in the morning when Lan Zhan inevitably drags her out of bed way too early to be considered normal, seat her at their table still wrapped in a blanket, and feeds her warm foods and coffee.

There are other foods to be eaten though, a never ending list of things to be enjoyed with Lan Zhan right there beside her.

“Hey, Lan Zhan, I’m really glad you brought me pancakes,” Wei Ying whispers, dragging one of her legs up to slot nicely between Lan Zhan’s, “And I’m glad you make me eggs and congee and potatoes when I’m not drunk.”

Lan Zhan doesn’t reply to this, obviously, still huffing peacefully against Wei Ying’s chest. She starts again, rubbing circles into Lan Zhan’s back, “Hey, Lan Zhan, I’m glad you’re not embarrassed of me. I’m glad you let me kiss you even if your brother is around.”

She presses a kiss to the top of Lan Zhan’s head then rubs her nose against the hair there, still smelling fresh with shampoo.

“Hey, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying whispers to the ceiling, knowing it is well past Lan Zhan’s bedtime and she’s not usually one to sleep  in fits and starts, “Lan Zhan, I love you.”

Lan Zhan’s face rubs against Wei Ying’s chest like a cat, lips catching on the fabric of Wei Ying’s shirt when she whispers back, “I love you too.”

(Wei Ying still gets drunk pancakes. She saves a minor fortune on never using the app again though; instead she lets Lan Zhan wrangle her into the passenger seat of her car, buckled in and safe, while Lan Zhan drives them to the local iHop. She lets Lan Zhan manhandle her into a booth and feed her bits of pancake and fruit, never too much, never enough to make her sick the way she would have had she been on her own. Lan Zhan always takes such good care of her; these pancakes taste better than any Wei Ying has ever had in her life.)

Coda:

“Hey, Lan Zhan, isn’t your family, like, rich?” Wei Ying asks, swinging their threaded hands in between them as they march to the nearest cafe, both of them glowing in the sunlight, happy, “Why were you running for DoorDash in the first place?”

“My family is well off,” Lan Zhan confirms politely, all while Wei Ying thinks to herself Yes, exactly what a rich person would say, “But there are things my Uncle does not approve of, and for that I prefer to use my own money so that he does not have a place to stand in telling me no.”

“Lan Zhan, how devious!” Wei Ying delights, leaning in to press an excited kiss to Lan Zhan’s cheek, “So what’d you get? Something cool? Dirty? Lavish? Tell me, Lan Zhan!”

“Bunnies,” Lan Zhan replies, cheeks speckled soft pink.

“Bunnies?” Wei Ying asks, head cocked to the side.

“Bunnies,” Lan Zhan confirms, nodding her head, “Uncle does not approve of pets but I approve of having bunnies and wanted two of my own.”

“Lan Zhan, stop, I’m going to die of cuteness,” Wei Ying whines, burying her face into Lan Zhan’s shoulder to moan more properly.

“Your repeat business helped to adopt them and purchase their housing,” Lan Zhan continues on because she is mean and has no sympathy for Wei Ying’s plight.  

“Them? As in multiple?”

“Mm,” Lan Zhan nods, fishing her phone out of her pocket, “Their names are Fluffball and Pancake, would you like to see?”

“Would I like to, oh my god,” Wei Ying shouts, looking at a picture of Lan Zhan cuddled up with two rabbits, looking soft and content. One of them is snowy white, tail big and bushy, like a little snowball in and of itself. She guesses that one is Fluffball. The other is light brown, slightly bigger than the last and very, how does she nicely put this, round. That one must be Pancake. Wei Ying is absolutely not ready to guess the implication of the bunny being named Pancake. She is going to die, “Lan Zhan, I am going to die. You’re going to kill me. How are you so cute?”

“Wei Ying will be fine,” Lan Zhan reassures, placing a hand on the small of her back to lead Wei Ying along, “Promise to keep Wei Ying safe.”

“Lan Zhan!”

[negans-lucille-tblr]

A/n: WE ARE GETTING GLIMPSES INTO HOW THESE THREE CAME TO BE

“ So you met Jensen at a festival?” Danneel nodded as she mentioned ACL or Austin City Limits located in the city of Austin and highlighted how they hit it off over music tastes. At first they didn’t expect to become such great friends and didn’t see each other afterwards but the following year decided to exchange numbers to stay in touch.

“ And how did you meet him?” To that question Y/N bit her lip. Wasn’t exactly the most appropriate meet up but hey, she got a good friend out of it. Danneel had no idea what she was going to be receiving for an answer.

“ I had to hustle a bit in LA but he had been given this number to call by his friends at the time and it led to my now terminated sex hotline. At first Jensen didn’t get it but as soon as I spoke I feel like his face fell.” She remembers the little squeak he made and that it made her laugh.

“ Then a mutual of ours introduced us and he recognized me but didn’t tell anyone. We became good friends and a year in told me he knew my hustle and said it was pretty neat. So as thank you I blew him off in his Impala.” Funny thing about Y/N was that she held no shame about her sex life. Things happened, and she knows when it’s okay to bring them up but the woman doesn’t care for being modest. Life is how you live it and she does it with some adventures.

“ W-Wow.” Danneel had not been expecting that, if anything she was a bit more shy in the bedroom. More reserved and vanilla but experimenting wasn’t always off the table.

“ It’s not the best story but it’s pretty unique. I don’t think I could ever have met a cool person at a festival. Let alone find them again a year later. I think that’s pretty sweet.” Y/N flashes her a warm smile and Danneel fiddles with her top, blushing slightly. Why was she this nervous?

“ Hey, don’t feel intimated by things I say. I get shy too sometimes.” Y/N can see her struggle and wouldn’t want Danneel out of her comfort zone, ever.

“ I just didn’t expect that for an answer, don’t worry.” Though Danneel was doing enough of it for the both of them.

“ Yeah, I tend to be bold with my words sometimes. Maybe I was a cocky douche in another life.” She rolled with the boys more too so Y/N could not help but wonder that.

“ I don’t think so, you’re pretty cool already. I just need to warm up a bit.” Danneel knew that if they talked more things wouldn’t seem so tense. Guess only time will tell.

Okay so I know “Y/N” isn’t actually me but you’ve nailed my bluntness 😂

“Yeah so I just gave him head in his car. How did you meet?” 🤣🤣🤣

I loved that. Poor flustered Dee. The image of her in my head hearing that is adorable though

[thanksjro]

Dark Cybertron Chapter 6: This Sure is a Comic I’m Reading.

The Dinobots are chilling out by the standing Titan, because Slag went and got his ass kicked by the super death wave a few issues back.

Excuse me, Slug.

There’s real-world context for this change- you see, in England, the word “slag” is often used as a derogatory term. Specifically, it’s either used as a stand in for “prostitute” or “whore”, or in more of a generalized “I greatly dislike this person” sort of way. It’s typically aimed at women, which is likely why Arcee said something to him as opposed to anyone else.

This little exchange is interesting, since Dark Cybertron Chapter 6 was published in 2014. Our boy Slug here first showed up in the original cartoon, back in the 80s, and was in the Marvel UK comics, where they didn’t change his name. A good portion of the IDW creative team, including 50% of the writers for this event storyline, are also from the UK. Seems like someone finally got sick of calling a whole-ass robot dinosaur a slut.

Not that there’s anything wrong with enjoying casual sex, or being a sex worker, but slapping labels on other people without their input is sort of a shitty thing to do, especially when you’re doing it in a franchise typically aimed at younger audiences, and with a surprisingly large following in the UK, where that term is used.

Anyway, while this conversation was happening, the Titan moved, and when it did, it kicked up a shit-ton of dust. Astrotrain, who is laying off to the side with his legs and an arm off, offers Swoop his binoculars. When asked why the hell he has binoculars- which doesn’t seem so strange to me, given that they’re standard military equipment in a lot of places- he tries to explain that he’s got shit eyes, and didn’t want Megatron to know about them. This would be an interesting glimpse into the inner workings of the Decepticons and how they view disability, if Swoop actually gave a damn.

But he doesn’t.

So it’s not.

Swoop sees with his special eyes that the guys who went down into the Crystal City have escaped, and are currently trying to outrun the Titan, and also the title of this issue.

Watch out, that typography’s gonna fuckin’ get you!

The Dinobots start firing on the Titan, which does fuck-all, and Prowl yells at them to head for Iacon, since that’s where the Titan’s going. Bumblebee, Skywarp, and Megatron are revealed to be MIA. Bummer.

Over on that weird water planet the Lost Light landed on a few issues back, the Rod Pod gang have puttered into Metroplex’s eye socket, and are currently making a Fantastic Voyage. Getaway asks where the hell Metroplex’s eyeball got to, but nobody has an answer for him, least of all Metroplex. Strange happenings on this weird water planet.

Ratchet gives everyone the skinny on Titan physiology theory- thank god he came along on the trip so I could at least get a little lore to feed my brain through this slog.

So, Metroplex’s spark could actually be out right now. Even though the lights are still on, that doesn’t mean anyone’s actually home, because the power of his spark needs time to actually travel through the body, and it needs a lot more time than the average robot, because he’s just so goddamned big. Humans also need time for their animating force… or, uh, blood to travel through the body. This is why we have a pulse. If it was instantaneous, we wouldn’t, but we’d probably also explode, because our squishy little bodies wouldn’t be able to handle that shit.

The gang starts scanning for life signs, even though they’re not even sure if they’ll be able to pick anything up. Brainstorm theorizes that the water could be causing degradation to Metroplex’s body. Getaway is still stuck on the Rod Pod existing. He’s having a moment. He’s been having a moment, really, ever since he saw the damn thing.

The results from the life-scan come in, and it looks like Metroplex might actually be okay, because there’s a blip for everyone in the Rod Pod, plus one! Hooray!

Nobody tell them about the hanger-on who’s basically glued himself to the ass of the Pod. We’ll let them have this little win, if only for a moment.

Ratchet suggests they head for the brain to check things out. Brainstorm reads back the report on the water sample he took, holding his data pad as precariously as he possibly can as he does. There’s admium flakes in the water. Nobody knows what this means, so they try to call Swerve, who is a metallurgist, for his professional opinion. The call goes to voicemail. Pity, that.

The fellas show up at the cranium, and there’s a small issue; Metroplex’s brain isn’t there. It wasn’t yanked out, either- it’s clean as a whistle in there, all things considered. Next stop- the spark. Hopefully they can get there before all the lights go out, because it’s beginning to look rather grim for ol’ Plexy.

Back on Cybertron, Starscream is asking about the fatality rate of the death wave, which is a bit funny to read now that I’ve typed it out. Tankor- who is our tie-in issue character today- decides he’s going to start some shit with Starscream, even as people are evaporating around him in the medical center he’s volunteered to assist at. Starscream takes the verbal stripping down with a straight face, because at this point, it’s just par for the course for him. Being head honcho of a whole planet kinda sucks, as he’s quickly finding out.

Flatline, who is also here, makes a crack at Starscream’s expense, and Starscream decides that that’s going to be the straw that breaks his camel’s back, as he starts getting dangerously sarcastic with the guy. Too bad this isn’t the time for that, however, because the Titan just showed up at the city limits.

Wow, Titan really said “fuck those two guys on the left in particular.”

Over in the Dead Universe, it turns out that the massive fiery laser blast from last issue DIDN’T kill everyone, and doesn’t actually seem like it was ever intended to. I suppose it was some sort of transport beam that Nova Prime used for his entrance, like the dramatic bitch he is. That’s neat, I guess.

Hardhead’s pretty upset by Nightbeat’s betrayal, not that Nightbeat really cares- being brainwashed tends to have that effect. Hardhead starts slamming his skull against the containment cube, living up to his name and also making himself look like a fool. Cyclonus is beginning to regret agreeing to this trip. Orion Pax punches the wall and starts yelling at Nightbeat for being a traitor, pretty much breaking his hand in the process. Rodimus tries to get him to chill out, and gets a knuckle sandwich for his troubles.

Also, this whole thing is a ruse. Orion managed to crack the cube, and he’s gonna try to get them out, but he can only do it if Nightbeat doesn’t realize what’s going on. Once Rodimus is let in on the plan, he tries to butter up ol’ Ikea Johnson, who notices the very mysterious something that’s on Rodimus’ palm. The thing that’s NOT his forcefield generator, that we don’t get to know about just yet.

Seeing the mysterious something makes Nightbeat fall to his knees, clutching his head in pain. At least, that’s what Orion says happened. I don’t know what happened or why, or why Orion would fucking know what happened or why. Or even, really, if it was Orion making the claim in the first place.

Not even any feet to try to connect to characters. I’m just guessing on previous panels.

“Dark Cybertron” makes me so, so tired.

Anyway, Nova Prime tells everyone to get on their knees, lest he shoot them with his big honkin’ back turrets.

Back inside Metroplex, the fellas have exited the Rod Pod and are on the hunt for Metroplex’s spark. Someone’s gone and drawn arrows pointing in the direction of the spark chamber, though who exactly is a mystery. Lots of mystery going on this issue. The boys decide to see where the graffiti takes them, leaving the Rod Pod to whatever fate might befall it while they’re gone.

Nobody likes the Rod Pod very much.

Also, that hanger-on from earlier is still there. This’ll turn out great, surely!

We get treated to a double-page spread of Escher proportions, as the gang tries to traverse the inner workings of Metroplex, until they hit an arrow that seemingly hits a dead end. When they brute force their way through the ceiling, it’s bad news bears; they’re right back where they started. Whirl, our most volatile friend, takes out his frustration on the Rod Pod, only for more bad news to reveal itself: the Pod’s been rigged to explode by the hanger-on!

And that’s a series wrap on the Rod Pod Squad! Let’s give ‘em a hand, folks!

Back in the Dead Universe, Nova Prime is busy deadnaming Orion, and generally just being an asshole. He notices Cyclonus off in the corner, and starts being an asshole at him too, because that’s how Nova interacts with the world. It’s all he knows.

It’s at this point that Cyclonus gives Hardhead the signal, and Hardhead bashes through the crack in the cube. Too bad it reseals itself directly behind him. Hardhead goes to punch Nova Prime, and gets his hand crushed into pulp for his troubles. Then he dies, because that was his forcefield hand.

And that’s a series wrap on Hardhead!

Nova Prime informs everyone that he’ll be taking them to visit a pal of his.

You know, this reveal would be a hell of a lot more poignant if I could FUCKING TELL WHO THE SHIT THAT’S SUPPOSED TO BE.

[diazevan]

11. Psych 101 “Crying”

While stranded, in the past, Peter crosses paths with a familiar face.

AO3 Link

Following the final battle, which became the ‘resting’ place of Thanos and his children, the world returned to a somewhat, normal state.

A couple of months passed when it became apparent that followers of Thanos, were on the move again, ready to stop at nothing to avenge him.

They were only small squadrons, of brainless beings, that were usually quite easy to take down.

Peter, after weeks of pleading, with Tony and May, was granted permission to tag along, with the team, to help. It gave him peace of mind, being able to watch over Tony, because at least, together, they could keep one another safe.

They managed to direct the fights, to the abandoned site of Sokovia, to make sure no civilians were caught in the crossfire.

Peter was standing alone, disarming the weaker forces of the army, “Wow,” He spun, sending out a laser web, disabling a lone Chitauri, “This isn’t too hard.”

Tony’s voice cracked through the commlink, “Don’t jinx it, kid.”

Peter rolled his eyes, “Didn’t think you were superstitious, Mr. Stark.”

“I’m not, but, it’s good to be careful.”

“Gotcha,” Peter spun, noticing a herd of space dogs, heading straight for him, “Uh…” He hung his head back, “I hate these guys.”

He activated the Spider-Legs, on the Iron Spider suit, and readied himself, for the onslaught.

“Peter!” Wanda flew down, arms raised to her sides, “Stand back.”

He nodded, running aside, “Got it.”

Wanda waved her hand, sending the crowd hurdling to one side.

“Woah!” Peter’s eyes widened, “Thank you!”

He turned, and before his powers could even alert him, a space dog crashed into his chest, knocking him back a few paces.

“Ugh…” He shot a web, rendering it unconscious, he pushed it away, “Gross.”

Rhodey screamed, from nearby, “Spidey-Man stand aside!”

Peter turned, looking around, “What?”

Tony’s panicked voice followed, “Kid, move!”

Wanda squealed, “Peter!”

Peter twirled around, fast, “Oh—” It was too late, Wanda’s blast, hit him square in the chest, knocking him back, through the air, the last thing he saw before hitting the ground, was her haunted face.

“Ugh,” He reached for his head, he blinked rapidly, “I’m fine,” He felt the urgent need to reassure Wanda that he was okay, considering she hadn’t meant to hit him, “Wan—”

He sat up, realizing quickly, that he was no longer on the battleground.

“What?”

He was sprawled, on the corner of a sidewalk, stuck in the middle of the hustle and bustle of New York, which was probably why nobody had questioned Spider-Man randomly laid across the street.

“Okay…” Peter pushed himself up, onto his feet, “What?” He headed to the closest wall, to survey his situation, “Can anybody hear me?”

Radio silence.

Peter darted his eyes around, when he realized, something wasn’t right.

He was in the centre, of Times Square, but it didn’t look normal.

The people rushing around were dressed differently, mostly in suits, and formal dresses. The cars, on the road, were old fashioned, makes from the 60s and the 70s, ones that Peter had seen stocked away in Tony’s garage.

Peter yelped, “What?!”

He stepped aside, deactivating the Iron Spider suit, he thanked the stars that he wore under armor, which was basically a fancy tracksuit.

He didn't have shoes. 

“Shit…” He turned, making his way down the road, trying to blend in with the crowds, “This isn’t real, this can’t be real...”

He hurried around, until he found a street, that not many people were on.

Peter perched on a brick wall, taking a second to breathe, “God…” He caught a glimpse of a newspaper, hanging out of a trashcan.

He strode over, grabbing it, to check the date.

September 16th 1976.

“Oh, Wanda…” He dropped it, “What have you done?”

He paced, wondering what he could do.

The hairs, on the back of his neck, stood on edge.

He leaned forward, listening out.

The cry of a child came from nearby

Despite, being lost, in the past, Peter couldn’t ignore it.

He circled the corner, “Hello?”

Tucked up, on brick stairs, was a little boy, with neat, combed brown hair, and a puffy red face, he was hugging his knees.

He was well dressed, in a tailored suit, not the usual fashion for a kid, even for the seventies.

“Hey,” Peter kneeled, “Are you okay?”

The boy jumped, startled, “Um…” He looked up, “Mummy says I’m not meant to talk to strangers.”

“That’s true,” Peter shuffled back, “My name’s Peter.”

“Uhhh,” The boy straightened his back, “I’m…” He held out his trembling hand, “I’m Anthony Stark.”

Peter bit down, hard, on his lower lip, concealing a yelp.

“Everybody calls me Tony.”

Peter took Tony’s hand, to shake it, “Nice to meet you, Tony.”

Tony moved his other hand, away from his face, and Peter could suddenly see it.

He’d seen pictures of Tony when he was younger, but he hadn’t recognized him behind the red-rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks.

Peter looked around, “Are you lost?”

“I was out with Mum and Dad…” Tony’s leg nervously rocked, “I tripped over my laces and broke a vase.”

Peter settled, on the heels of his feet.

Tony spoke formally, not like a child should, “Dad got mad, so I ran, and I can’t find them.”

“I see,” Peter nodded, “Well, that wasn’t your fault.”

“I’m—” He stuttered, “I’m not very good with laces…” He ducked his head, “Dad said it’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not,” Peter leaned, tying Tony’s laces, “We all need help with little things sometimes.”

“Thank you.”

Peter swallowed the lump in his throat, “Do you want me to help find your parents?”

Tony nodded, reaching out to take Peter’s hand, “Yes, please.”

Despite not wanting to see Howard, in fear of what he’d do, Peter wanted to make sure Tony got home safe, “Do you remember where you were?”

“I ran quite far,” Tony said, darting his eyes around, “But I think Uncle Jarvis’ and Aunt Ana’s house is close to here.”

Peter’s mind twigged because Tony spoke highly of  Jarvis and Ana, he loved them like they were his parents.

He’d driven passed their old house, pointing it out, gleefully on multiple occasions.  

Peter looked at Tony, with a smile, “Do you know which way?”

Tony swung Peter’s arm back, “Yeah, I think so.”

They wandered down the street, in silence, for a while.

Tony hung his head, “Peter, you’re not wearing any shoes!" 

“Oh,” Peter sighed, “I know, I lost them.”

Tony didn’t question it, “Does the ground hurt your feet?”

“Not really,” Peter said, “I’ll get new ones.”

Tony grinned, “Uncle Jarvis probably has some you can borrow.”

“It will be fine, thank you,” Peter said, “I’ve got some at home.”

“Okay,” Tony sang, he leaped over the cracks in the sidewalk, “Do you read comics, Peter?”

Peter turned his face away, hiding a fond smile; Tony had a knack for changing the subject, whenever he could, “I do sometimes.”

“I like Batman,” Tony smiled, with a jump, “He’s cool.”

Peter snorted a laugh, “One day, you might be a superhero.”

“I wish I could be.”

Only if he knew.

Tony guided Peter around another corner, “What do you do, Peter?”

“Um, I’m at high school,” Peter told him, “What about you?”

“I have tutors, at home,” He shrugged, “And I’m gonna go to boarding school when I’m bigger.” He slouched his shoulders, “Daddy wants me to go to MIT.”

Already thinking of college at age six, was not normal.

Tony truly had his childhood swept away.

Peter massaged the back of his neck, “That’s where I want to go too.”

“It’s very good.”

Peter bobbed his head, “It is.”

Tony stopped walking and pointed, “That’s their house.”

They moved up the stairs, Peter knocked on the door, three times, while keeping Tony’s hand, in his own.

The door clicked open, revealing Ana, she was in her late fifties, but still had vibrant auburn hair, with a couple of grey streaks, “Tony!” She exclaimed, looking at her nephew, “We’ve all been so worried.” She leaned forward, holding out an arm, “You’ve had us running around like headless chickens, sweetheart.”

“Aunt Ana!” Tony rushed forward, wrapping his arms around her legs, “Sorry,” He spun around, waving his hand, “This is Peter!”

“Ah.” Ana stepped forward, holding out her hand, “Nice to meet you, Peter.”

Peter shook it, “Nice to meet you too.”

She kept a hand on Tony’s back, “Thank you so much, for keeping our Tony safe.” She turned, “Edwin, darling!”

Jarvis circled in, the panic on his face morphed into relief, “Thank, Goodness…” He rushed ahead, “Mr. Stark…”

Tony sprinted over, “Uncle Jarvis!”

Jarvis crouched, catching Tony, in a hug, “I’m so glad you’re safe, young man.”

Tony leaned back, rubbing his sleeve over his face, “I’m sorry I ran.”

Ana placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder, guiding him inside, “Edwin, this is Peter, he helped Tony find his way here.”

Jarvis stood, “Peter.” He shook his hand, “Nice to meet you.” He smiled, “Thank you.”

Peter stared, in disbelief, because, for the longest time, Jarvis and Ana were stories, but he was seeing them, for real, “It’s no trouble.”

“Would you like a cup of tea, darling?” Ana asked, “I think you're owed one.”

“Uh…”

Jarvis cut him off, “I’m sure, Mr. and Mrs. Stark would like to thank you, in person.”

Tony skipped over, tugging Peter’s hand, “I can show you my room!”

Technically, Peter had nowhere else to go, “I guess I’ll stay then.”

Ana squeezed his arm, “I’ll bring your tea up to you.”

“Thank you.”

Jarvis looked to him, “How do you like it?”

“Um, not too strong, with two sugars, please.”

“Coming right up.”

“Come on.” Tony lead him upstairs, into his room, “Wanna play Snakes and Ladders?” He asked, rushing over to a bookcase.

“Sure.”

Peter perched, on the edge of the bed.

He watched, seeing how happy Tony was, struck him, knowing how sad, he grew up to be.

Tony was loved, by so many, but grew up believing he was worthless because his dad never looked at him twice.

Tony laid out the Snakes and Ladders’ board, giving Peter the dice.

They were halfway through their third game when Ana brought Peter his cup of tea and a glass of juice for Tony.

Peter placed it, on the bedside cabinet, “Thank you.”

Ana took out a polaroid camera, “Do you mind?” She asked, raising it.

Peter shrugged, “Not at all.”

She held it up, “Smile boys.”

Tony waved, with the widest smile.

Peter watched him, fondly.

Knocks, at the front door, caught their attention.

“I better go and see who that is,” Ana left, taking the camera and photo, with her.

A woman’s voice echoed up, “Hello.”

Jarvis spoke, “Mr. Stark?”

“Jarvis.” That had to be Howard, “Where is he?”

Tony moved away from Peter’s side, and stood, at the end of his bed, with a forced posture.

Maria Stark entered, “Tony?” She smiled, relief in her eyes, “Honey..”

Tony walked over, hugging her, “Mum…”

“Hello, baby… “ She kneeled, taking his hands, “We were so worried.”

“I’m sorry.”

Howard strode in, chin held high, “Maria…” He barked, “He’s a growing boy, he doesn’t need to be coddled.”

Peter stood, clenching his fists by his sides.

Howard glared, at Tony, “You’re in a lot of trouble when we get home.”

Maria stood, “You must be Peter.” She shook his hand, “Thank you, for helping.”

“Son…” Howard took out his wallet, “Let us…”

“I don’t want your money,” Peter held up his hands, “I was glad to help.”

Howard thrust out the cash, in his hand, “Don’t be modest.”

“I can’t.”

Howard pushed, “Take it—"

Peter answered, through gritted teeth, “I won’t accept money from you.”

Howard stepped back, “What?”

“I can’t,” Peter replied, quick, “Not from somebody who talks to their son, like you do.”

Maria’s eyes widened, she stepped closer to Tony.

Tony leaned forward, peering from behind her son.

Howard stared like Peter had punched him, “I beg your pardon?”

“I lost my parents when I was Tony’s age, but I remember how good they were,” Peter informed him, “My Aunt and Uncle raised me, they respected me, and my—” He stopped, having no idea how to explain Tony’s relevance in his life, it was hard, to put into words, instead he pointed, “That’s what he needs.”

Howard frowned; anger bubbling to the surface.

“Your son is six, and you treat him like he’s sixteen,” Peter snapped, unable to stop, “He got lost, he was scared, that’s not something you punish a kid for. You should be asking him if he’s okay, telling him he can have anything he wants for dinner.”

Howard sneered, “You’re not Tony’s father.”

“I know,” Peter narrowed his eyes, “Maybe, instead of seeing him as an investment, or company property, you should see him as your son.” His voice raised, “He’s scared of the dark, and you keep him in it. You’ll be the one to blame when he grows up to resent you.”

Howard’s jaw dropped, speechless.

Peter turned to Maria, “I better go—”

“Yes—” She leaned over, to mutter, “Thank you.”

Tony rushed over, hugging Peter’s leg, tight, “Goodbye.”

Peter squeaked, tears, in his eyes, “Bye.”

He rushed passed, the startled Howard, down the stairs, where Jarvis and Ana were stood, silent.

“It was lovely meeting you,” His mouth twitched into a smile, “You’re good people, and Tony loves you both very much.” He nervously interlocked his fingers, “Thank you.”

He rushed out before they could say anything.

The sun was setting, and the street was desolate.

He needed to find somewhere, to lay low, for a little while.

He wiped tears, out of his eyes, “Shit.” He bent over, a knot in his stomach, “Wow.”

“Peter, wait!” Maria shouted, after him, running down, “All—”

He spun, “I’m sorry,” He quickly said, “I shouldn’t have shouted.”

“My husband is a grown man.”  She stopped, in front of him, “He can take it, and you know what? He deserves it.” She nodded, “Thank you.”

“No problem.”

“There’s something about you, that’s peculiar…” She scanned him, “Have we met before?”

He shook his head, “No.”  

“You speak about Tony like you know him.”

Peter didn’t know what to do, but he could see the desperation, in her eyes, and the love, she held inside, for Tony, “Can you keep a secret, Mrs. Stark?” He asked, “That nobody else can know.”

She nodded, “Yes.”

“I do know Tony…” Peter told her, “Just not yet.”

“Excuse me?”

Peter tapped his arm, activating the Iron Spider armor, but he kept the mask off.

“What—” She stepped back, “What is this?”

“It’s my suit,” He hiccupped, “I’m a superhero.”

She raised an eyebrow, “Like in real life?”

“Yeah,” He nodded, “Tony’s one too.”

“He’s a child.”

“Not yet…” He stumbled, “In the future.”

She laughed nervously, “Are you saying, you’re from the future?”

“I know it sounds crazy.”

She tilted her head, to her shoulder, “Honey, it’s delusional.”

Peter tapped his arm, “Karen, are you still working?”

“Yes, Peter, I am running on backup power.”

Maria looked around, “Who was that?”

“The suit.” Peter answered, “Karen, can you show me files on Tony Stark?”

“Of course, personal or work?”

“Personal, please.”

Karen projected a picture, of Peter, Tony, and Morgan, sprawled across the couch together.

“That’s extraordinary,” Maria pointed, “He looks just like my father.”

“That’s Tony,” Peter said, “In 2023.”

She shook her head, “2023?”

“Yeah,” He moved his finger, “That’s my sister, Morgan.”

She looked at him, with wide eyes, “Your sister?”

“Karen, play, please.”

The video played.

Tony jumps onto the couch, ruffling Peter’s hair, with his hand.

Peter whines, “Mr. Stark…”

Tony shakes his head, with a laugh, “What movie should we watch?”

Morgan throws her arms, into the air, “Finding Nemo.”

Tony grins, “Again, really?”

“Yeah.”

Peter closed it and lowered his arm.

Maria blinked away tears, “That’s my Tony?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re his son?” She asked, “My-My grandson?”

“Basically,” Peter nodded, “He took me in…”

“And he’s happy?”

“He gets there, in the end.”

Maria leaned up, pulling him into a hug, “Thank you for showing me.”

Peter tangled his arms around her, “It’s so good to see you.”

“It’s lovely to meet you, honey.” She leaned back, “You tell him from me, that I’m proud of him, and all he's done,” She cupped his cheek, “And you give your sister, a big hug from your grandma, okay?”

“Okay,” Peter’s face contorted, “I don’t know if I-“

Wanda’s voice echoed, from nearby, “Peter!”

Peter turned his head.

“Peter, it’s me.”

He breathed, “Wanda?”

Maria frowned, concerned, “Are you okay?”

“I think my friends have found me,” He squeezed her hand, “I have to go.”

She kissed his cheek, “Stay safe.”

“Bye.”

Suddenly, he was flying, through a blanket of red.

He landed, on a laminate floor, with a thump, “Woah.” He was inside the training room, of the Headquarters, surrounded by the team.

Scott cheered, from behind the quantum tunnel, “He’s back!”

Cheering filled the room.

Rhodey applauded, “It actually worked!”

Peter looked around, his eyes finding the one person he wanted to see, “Tony…”

Tony bent down, pulling Peter to his feet, “Oh, kid…” He dragged him, into his arms, “That was the longest week of my life.”

Peter peeled back, stunned, “It’s been a week?!”

“I’m so sorry, Peter,” Wanda stepped out, “I didn’t even know I could do that, I was trying so hard-“

“It’s okay, I know,” He leaned over, hugging her, “It’s fine, I’m back.”

“You’re lucky, that Friday recalled something, from my archives,” Tony held out the polaroid picture, that Ana had taken, “Turns out, you’re real,” He laughed, “Thought you were imaginary.”

Peter laughed, “Surprise.”

Tony tugged him into another hug, kissing his cheek, “Thank you.”

[dent-de-leon]

Nonagon is a mystery to me as well and I wish we knew more of him. Is it the eyes? The tomb? The blood? If Molly had lived to be chased down by Lucien then where would Nonagon manifest? Would he take control over Molly like Obann did with Yasha? Maybe corrupt him little by little as he leveled up? Or was he always there within Lucien, part of that charismatic cruelty of his? What was his previous goal, before he met his end at Vess' hand? I have so many questions. But I don't think (1/x)

we'll ever get the chance to figure it all out. Breaking the 4th wall for a moment, Nonagon was probably created before Lucien, a part of the deep lore sparkled into reality by a PC's blank backstory. Then Lucien's characterization came from the life Tal gave to Molly: the mannerisms, the accent, the ideals, the hearts broken when he met his fate. I can't tell if Matt took notes when Molly was still alive or if he studied the character during the hiatus, but one thing is clear: (2/x)

He's doing an incredible job at messing with our heads and tugging at our hearts. I want Molly back, for more than just a brief moment. I want to know more about Lucien and his relationship with the TT and the MT. And I want to understand the essence of the Nonagon and how he came into being. And wow, this got a bit longer than I thought it would. I'm sorry for throwing more questions than anything at you. I'm just so fascinated by these characters. I wish I could have them all. (3/3)

oh this is all really interesting!! I enjoyed reading all your asks, there are so many good points here. Throwing this under a cut because I went a bit long.

It’s interesting to think that Matt may have wrote the concept of the Nonagon before Taliesin even started planning Mollymauk. That’d be a really neat coincidence, if Molly just happened to figure perfectly into this grand relic of ancient history Matt was already mapping out. Though I think it’s just as likely Matt could’ve tweaked the Somnovum’s story to suit Molly. One thing’s for sure, and it’s that a lot of this arc of eldritch horror and Lucien’s rise to power was crafted for Taliesin specifically. 

You can see how excited he gets in certain moments with Lucien, how shocked and invested he is when that little shard of Molly bleeds through. Wherever Nonagon’s story ends, I hope Taliesin is happy with it. Similarly, I think a part of why Matt is able to show these little echoes of Molly in Lucien so well is because he knows Taliesin, and ultimately knows where he wanted to go with the character. 

As for whether Molly would’ve ever become the Nonagon himself had he lived, I feel like he was somehow spared from that fate. Partially because I feel his soul is now his own, and so he wasn’t corrupted by the Somnovum the way Lucien was. Partially because Lucien’s death might’ve temporarily severed his body’s connection with the Somnovum. Because, even with all nine Eyes, Molly was never tormented by any of Cognoza’s dreams. He wasn’t tortured by the screaming chorus or all seeing eyes in countless nightmares, didn’t get any strange abilities from the Eyes. For all intents and purposes, they were just...inactive for him. And I’m incredibly grateful he was able to avoid losing himself to this like Lucien. 

After watching the most recent episode, the Nonagon as his own character and as an extension of Lucien and Molly--well, he’s even more of a mystery to me. But I do have some thoughts. 

Something about all the Somnovum and Lucien begging the Nein to join them, to become one with them, to share in their life and power...I don’t know, it feels like an echo of when Molly was empty. Wistful, longing, desperate to hold onto something that feels real. Mollymauk found that: “Joy can fill an awful lot in a person’s life.” But this city can feed and feed, yet it will never be full. It’s cold, dead, all consuming. Empty.

Lucien the Nonagon still longs for the Nein, I think. To be near them and keep them by his side. It’s from Molly’s affection bleeding through, but processed and interpreted through Lucien’s own impressions. A bit warped and twisted by how he tries to rationalize it. “I feel like you all have some part to play still...like you’ve a use to me.” “Because try as I might, a part of me still likes them.” “Yes, that must be it. I needed witnesses...” 

They were merely more pieces to manipulate in this game of his--of course he didn’t kill them, they were useful. Or he needed an audience. Or he had to have witnesses. Time and again Lucien makes excuses for why he lets them live, lets them go, but still selfishly keeps them so close. “I left you alive? Why did I leave you alive?”

Lucien telling the Nein to join him, wanting to share in what he’s feeling with them, how he sounds so wistful and soft, “Come! It’s far prettier up here.” “I wish I could share it, but...you need to be with us. You have to be with the pattern.” Come see the view, just stop and rest awhile. It’s reminiscent of Lucien watching the sunrise with Caduceus, taking a moment to just breathe and enjoy something beautiful. 

He drives all his followers to their doom, yet still he clings to the Nein. Even after being corrupted by wasting away in Cognoza for years, shattered into broken fragments the Somnovum themselves pieced back together in their own distorted design. Lucien, the person he was before the Nonagon, whoever Cree once knew and called out to in her final moments--a part of him was a bit lost or lonely I think, desperately craving some way to stave off the “emptiness” in his own life. And maybe that was something he thought the city could provide. The power to turn dreams into reality, to grant any one of his desires. 

It’s strange, because...the Nonagon is this hungry, distorted presence of manipulation and control, an otherworldly entity that came here to obliterate the Somnovum and rule whatever remained of these ruins. The Lucien that was once a mortal man had long since been lost to this. That’s not even factoring in whatever compassionate shard of his soul was broken off and became Mollymauk. And yet, we see a gentler side of Lucien last episode, I think. He seems oddly welcoming when he sees the Nein. He wants them here with him, even if he can no longer understand why. Lucien, even while one with the Somnovum and the City, is still compelled to act on Molly’s feelings for the Nein--in his own distorted way. 

I think Lucien as the Nonagon, still feeling this ache from Molly’s heart, the way Mollymauk’s soul is still fighting and enduring within him...I think it means hope. More hope than I’ve had all campaign. Molly at least will survive this I think. And given that his soul was once part of Lucien’s, we can hope that maybe a part of Lucien’s heart, this glimpse into the better person he could’ve been--that lives on in Molly. 

[k7l4d4]

Midnight Striga: Fairy Tail/Owl House Cross Fic Episode 5 Part 3

Hello all, here I am, once again, presenting you with more of Midnight Striga. Thank you for your consideration.

Eda grumbled, awkwardly shifting in her seat. The fact that she was stuck here, in this den of propaganda and conformity grated on every fiber of her being. Still, the chance to loot this place after the fact was incredibly enticing, feeling herself grin at the thought. Glancing to the kids next to her, Eda took stock of what Luz had shared about them; the Plant Girl had serious power to her, enough to wipe the floor with full adults if she felt like it, and the Illusion Boy was a genuine prodigy, something rare, much like herself. ‘It made sense they would end up in Luz’s odd gravity,’ she mused. As the lights started to dim, signalling the start, Eda grumbled again, longing for it to end.

Bump strode forth to his place on the terrace, raising a mic to his face. “Ladies and Gentlemen! Witches and demons of all ages!” His voice boomed, echoing across the excited crowd. “It is my pleasure,” ‘Suck it up and think of the funding Bump, think of the funding!’ “To present to you… The Emperor’s Coven!!” With an explosion of fog and light, three Guards sauntered forth, with one even launching themselves into the air for the spectacle. Bump groaned internally at the theatrics, reminding himself once again of the funding this would net him and the school. The crowd roared.

“Now, I must ask you, do you all wish to know what the pinnacle of magic is?” He called out, hamming it up.

“Is it this!?” One of Bump’s students, one of the transfers from Glandus if he recalled correctly, excitedly shouted, before magically enlarging their head, collapsing on another student and prompting chuckles from his group.

“Wow, I have failed you as a principal.” Bump bluntly stated at the off-putting sight, not entirely sure how to process it. Brushing the uncomfortable moment aside, Bump regained his momentum. “No, it stands before you! The Emperor’s Coven possesses the ability to use not one, not two, but ALL Forms of magic!!” He boldly proclaimed, as the guards below unleashed dazzling displays of power. Privately, after his conversation that day of Boscha’s brief rampage, Bump wasn’t too sure about the Emperor’s personal followers being the pinnacle they were described as.

“Whoo! Luz, did you see that!” Gus excitedly yelled, bouncing up and down in his seat.

“Eh.” Luz shrugged her shoulders, before critiquing the group below. “Powerful, but overly flashy, and not particularly quick. Wasteful of energy, and not much technique that I can see. I give it a 6 out of 10.” She clinically listed off, marking each point with a raised finger, raising an extra finger to give the score, resulting in Gus and Willow deflating over her disinterest.

Oblivious to the musings of those who had started the change that was slowly encroaching Bonesburough, and the Isles at large, Bump continued his presentation. “And now, it is my honor to present to you,” and this time he wasn’t just speaking out of his rear, “an individual who stands at the top. You know her,” light and mist pooled around his feet, “you love her,” a massive, translucent raven cawed and swooped down next to him, tucking into itself, “give it up for Emperor’s Coven Head, Lilith Clawthorne!!” The raven burst away, revealing Lilith standing next to him as he quickly stepped back, wearing the traditional cloak of the EC and a stylized mask, black-painted lips quirked up in a smile.

Eda choked on her drink (that she’d stolen), desperately sucking for air. She eeked out a hushed, “Lily?”

“You know her?” Luz asked, Willow and Gus sparing Eda a glance of light concern.

Eda gave a resigned nod. “She’s my sister.” This elicited widened eyes from the three, and Eda just knew they’d be asking questions afterward. Ugh.

Lilith walked up to the front of the terrace, mildly glad for her former principal’s presence and his glowing introduction, she would NEVER admit it aloud but she always gained the worst jitters when it came to public speaking, even if she was skilled in it. She smoothly pulled away her mask, allowing her features to be seen and admired by the crowd. She felt a smug glow of satisfaction over her looks, before focusing on the present situation. “Citizens of the Boiling Isles!!” Her voice boomed, a neat little trick she had learned for just these sorts of situations. “I am proud to stand before you today, humbled by the exaltation you have displayed.” She gave an elaborate bow, prompting a roar of enthusiasm from the crowd. 

“It wasn’t easy to rise as far as I have. I too started from humble beginnings.” This prompted some muttering from the assembled crowd, particularly from those students who were themselves from rather humble backgrounds. “But now, I possess the highest honor of enforcing the Emperor’s will!” An honor that would all be worth it when he saved her sister, her stubborn, arrogant, bleeding-heart sister. “And today, I am pleased to present my protege!” She announced, raising her hand. In a burst of light, there she stood. “Amity Blight!” As the crowd went wild, she allowed her student to bask in it, a smirk playing across her face at the barely hidden giddiness. “She has taken the steps to excel, to ascend to the highest level! Work hard, and the Emperor’s Coven awaits you!” She shouted, slamming her staff down, and with a flash, she and Amity vanished into the depths of the Center, the crowd crowing in delight behind them.

Smirking, she and Amity waltzed into the main area of the center, watching in satisfaction as the excited crowd poured from the stadium area. Turning to her with gleaming eyes, Amity said. “That was amazing Miss Lilith! You were incredible out there.” She said with a grin, before turning serious. “I must ask, when will our next lesson take place?”

Lilith hid a smirk. The girl was eager, ambitious, skilled, and dedicated; even just one of those traits would serve her well in life, but all? She would truly be a monster to contend with as she grew older. She just needed to look into subtlety a bit more. “I believe I can schedule a lesson to take place in a weeks time, sometime around the weekend. If that’s acceptable of course.” She raised an eyebrow. She knew it would be, but politeness and social expectations existed for a reason.

Amity gave a solemn nod. “Of course. I will take my leave.” She said, walking off into the crowd, entering from the area containing those who had not exited the stadium, a smart way to avoid being mobbed by the crowd.

“Take care, Amity Blight.” Lilith murmured. “It would not do for your potential to be cut short.” With her musings over, she wandered into the main body of the Covention, prepared to meet and greet her public. Ah, the sacrifices made for a life such as hers.

Amity wandered through the center, idly taking note of the various Covens that had set up today. None truly interested her, but seeing the dedication on display, the willingness to restrict oneself so deeply in pursuit of one’s personal passions was admirable in its own way. She wondered what path she would’ve taken, had she not been born a Blight; would she still have this intense drive to excel, or would she be content with simpler things? She would never truly know, but it was an interesting thought. Lost in her musings, she was rightfully started when she crashed into someone.

As she fell, Amity caught a glimpse of the person who had also taken a plunge in their collision, and her eyes widened. Chocolaty brown skin. Smooth, swirled brunette hair. A light blue shirt with a stylized picture of a cat, tucked beneath a hybrid vest and jacket of gleaming white with a climbing vine decal. Well worn beige pants, and sporty looking shoes. Wide expressive eyes. And, most telling, rounded ears. In a flash, Amity had essentially memorized her appearance. Now if only she could puzzle out why she had done so…

With a small gasp of slight pain, Amity crashed to the ground, the human girl doing so not a second later. Growling at the discomfort, Amity quickly moved to her feet, wrestling control from her temper before it reacted over an accident. “Oh man, I am so sorry for that.” The human groaned, clambering to her feet. Stretching herself out briefly, the girl gave Amity a discerning look, before familiarity dawned on her. “Oh yeah, you were at the school that day! Amity, right?” She asked, holding out a hand for a shake.

Amity glanced at the hand, and briefly contemplated not shaking, before stifling the impulse, giving the girl a firm grip. “Indeed. I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced, however.” She said, cocking an eyebrow. She gave a shallow bow. “I am Amity Blight, youngest of the Blight family and heir-apparent of our name and company, Blight Industries. It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance.” She recited, keeping the kind of bland, formal tone you’d expect from a meeting between politicians, prompting a mild look of surprise from Luz.

The human grinned, almost amused, much to Amity’s confusion. “Well, Miss Blight, it is a pleasure to officially meet you when you aren’t acting like a bitch.” She said bluntly, but without a hint of malice or mocking that Amity could detect.

Amity awkwardly clutched her shirt, feeling small at the reminder of her conduct from that day, however lacking in harshness that reminder was. “Indeed. Speaking of which, may I know your name?” She requested.

The human arched an eyebrow, but shrugged, agreeing. “Eh, why not. The name’s Luz Noceda. Why did you ask?”

Amity internally sighed in relief that she’d be able to finish part of her mission so quickly. “For this.” Stepping back, Amity once again bowed, this time a full bow at the waist, head parallel to the ground. “Luz Noceda, I, Amity Blight, offer my sincerest apologies for my conduct towards you prior to today. I allowed anger, suspicion, and bias to cloud my judgement, but that is no excuse for what I said to you. I was dismissive, rude, and judgmental. If my apology is insufficient, I will do anything within reason to make amends.” Amity shut her eyes tight, desperately begging to the Titan that she wouldn’t be ridiculed, that her words would be accepted. The fact that this was so public… it burned her, how many people might try and hurt her with this.

“Aw man, could you get up? There’s no need for that.” Amity cracked an eye open, spying Luz’s sardonic expression.

“I beg your pardon?” Amity started.

“Look,” Luz began, giving a loose shrug, “I’ve been called way worse before by much more horrible people than you. Was I mad when you said those things? Oh absolutely. But, I got over it, because it wasn’t worth holding a grudge against someone who probably ended up regretting it, if they hadn’t already regretted it after saying it, and had been punished enough. You okay with just forgetting about it all?”

Amity huffed, amused at Luz’s candidness. “Very well.” Her face grew serious. “However, I would like to make a request, if it isn’t too presumptuous of me.”

“Oh?” Luz mused, cocking her head. “That depends on what your request is.”

“What are you?” Amity asked, Luz pulling up short, dumbfounded. Amity continued on. “I know you’re human. But strange things have surrounded you. You helped Willow gain an immense increase in skill after just a short conversation, and was able to oversee her application of her new skill level. You were able to survive a confrontation against Boscha while she was wielding those flames. And there have been rumors about someone matching your expression appearing around town.” She slowly walked around Luz, allowing herself to gain a better look all around. “I want answers for the mysteries surrounding you. Please.” She finished, fixing a strong, unwavering stare on Luz.

Luz sighed, scratching her head. “Ugh, fine, but it’ll cost you.” She said, opening a single eye to look at Amity.

Amity nodded firmly. “How much.” She had told herself she wouldn’t be leaving the girl without answers, and even if her mother was annoyed at the expense, it would be well worth it to give Amity peace of mind.

“An apology.”

Amity paused, perplexed. “But I already gave you one?”

Luz shook her head, elaborating. “Not for me. For Willow. If you want answers, you have to apologize to Willow.”

Amity gave a smirk. “Well lucky for me I was already planning on doing just that.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Provided she grants me an apology as well.”

“Huh, looks like things’ll work out pretty easily! She wanted to give you one too.”

“In that case, I see no reason we shouldn’t look for her. Care to join me?” Amity finished, gesturing for Luz to follow her. Shrugging, the human girl followed the witch through the crowd, unaware of the elongated figure looming in the shadows.

Eda stormed through the Covention, nimble fingers snatching up odds and ends as she shifted through the crowd, looking for her quarry. As she finished stashing the last of her loot in her hair, her eyes sharpened, spotting her target. Gliding forth, she stopped dead center in front of her prey.

“Hey Lily.” Eda grinned, all teeth.

“Ah, Edalyn!” Lilith drawled, pulling herself up from where she had been signing a little Witchling’s poster. “You came after all!” She placed a hand under her chin, looking smug. “Still rooting around in the trash in that shack of yours?” She chuckled at her little ‘joke.’

Eda rolled her eyes. “Yeah yeah, real funny.” Getting an idea, she leaned over to the kids, she whispered. “Hey, did you kids know Lily used to wet her bed until she was-”

“Edalyn!” Lilith yelped in embarrassment as the children giggled.

Eda smirked, before pulling out her wallet (one of them anyway), and gave each child a small snail bill. “Hey, why don’t you kids all get yourselves a treat and go back to your parents, okay?” As the children eagerly nodded, rushing off, she turned to Lilith, her smile dropping into cool seriousness.

“Ugh, what do you want, Edalyn?” Lilith scoffed, folding her arms. Suddenly, she blinked, eyes brightening. “Unless… you’re finally here to join the Coven!” She cheered, a childish delight gleaming in her eyes.

“No.” Eda flatly stated.

“Oh.” Lilith said just as flatly, her excitement dead already. “Well, in that case-”

“I learned something pretty interesting, Lily.” Eda began, grabbing her sister’s attention. “About how the Emperor’s Coven presented what happened to me to the public.”

Lilith felt her blood chill; she had never really agreed with that decision, but it had been out of her hands. If Edalyn was bringing this up now… “And this holds bearing, how?” She asked, trying to play it off.

“I want you to set the record straight, Lily.” Eda said, a note of barely contained fury in her voice. “Now. If not sooner.”

Lilith reeled back. “I couldn’t possibly do such a thing! It is the Emperor’s Will!”

“Nuts to the Emperor, Lily!!” Eda shouted, slamming her fist against the wall nearest to them. “He used my pain, my trauma, my public humiliation as a way to get people to fall in line. I hate the Coven System, but I’m willing to accept that for most people, they choose to be a part of it. But using what happened to me as a way of scaring kids into falling in step!? I won’t stand for it!!”

“It’s not my decision to make, Edalyn.” Lilith coldly replied. “And really, you have no one but yourself to blame; if you just joined a Coven all that silliness would just drift away.” She firmly replied, internally begging that Edalyn would finally see reason, to agree with her, to admit she was right!!!

Eda paused. Then she chuckled. “Okay. I really didn’t want to do this. But! It looks like you aren’t giving me a real choice.” With a sigh, Eda stepped back, just enough to where she could point at Lilith at full extension. “Lilith Clawthorne, I challenge you to a Witch’s Duel.”

Nearby Witches and Demons gasped, reeling back, even as Lilith herself blinked in shock.

“Edalyn, you can’t possibly be serious!” She said, shock still coursing through her body.

“The terms are as follows,” Eda said, steadfastly ignoring the increasing mutters of the crowd. “If I win, you have to publicly admit the truth behind my curse, not that crap the Emperor peddles. If you win, I’ll join Bonehead’s little club.” She finishes, crossing her arms in defiance.

“Edalyn, you can’t be-” Lilith starts, only to cut herself off with a choke, as Eda formed the glowing white circle of an unbreakable vow, already sticking her hand through. “You really are serious.” Lilith breathes out.

“I am.” Eda says grimly. Staring at her sister’s hand trepidatiously, Lilith’s eyes flash with fear, shock, longing, pride, and finally, determination. Reaching out, she joins hands with her sister, for the first time in years… and completes the vow. The duel is officially on.

“A Witch’s Duel, eh?” A cold voice mutters in the dark, shadowed figures lurking behind them. “Well, won’t that be a fun way to start this operation.” They chuckled, their entourage cackling behind them, the cooling corpse of a Coven Guard behind them.

[four-loose-screws]

What would you rank all the fire emblem games that you have played.

Thank you for waiting, anon! This essay is finally finished! XD I don’t know if either of us ever intended for this to end up so long, but it did.

It’s interesting to see how each person experiences each game, so I hope everyone enjoys reading this. If anyone wants to ask questions for more details or just for conversation, please do!

I did a tier grouping ranking as well as ordering from bottom -> top, because that helped explain my feelings a little better. This isn’t really reflecting my nostalgia or personal feelings for the characters/world quite as much as “how much fun I had in my initial playthrough(s).” Because I think that’s what these sorts of lists are generally asking for.

First, I’d like to make a general statement about why I love FE games so much: Well, most simply it’s because I have more fun playing FE than any other series. That much is obvious though, right? I also love them because they all stand out in their own way, with their own unique combination of features, and because they are all super ambitious titles. It may lead to some rushing and half-baked ideas, but ambition is what excites me the most in any series. Even if the creators are not able to fully realize the ideas they had, the hard work still wows me as I play, and I can see hints of the full vision they had in every nook and cranny. Even the lowest games on this list are pretty high up there for me in fun level. The “fun but flawed” games just had glaring issues that interrupted the fun from time to time.

...FEs 1 & 3 are overall exceptions to the “unique and standing out rule,” being early games in the series; and FE6 set up post-Famicom FE, so it’s pretty basic, too - but they still get their own awards for setting a solid foundation for a fun video game series that withstands the test of time.

I can’t fully explain it, why I attached to FE the most over all other game series out there. But when I play FE, I usually don’t think about what’s not so great about the games. I just have fun. The gameplay always has me thinking, and I get engrossed in the stories and unlocking convos and supports.

Basic Tier

These games are really hard to judge properly in the ranking system, because they are just so basic for the series.

FE1 / FE11

When FE11 came out, I remember it getting so much flack for being really, really boring. But I didn’t get that. I like FE gameplay and storytelling at its core, so I don’t need the bells and whistles to have a good time. I knew this is where the series started, and was surprised with what content there was considering this is a remake of a game on the Famicom (NES).

FE1 set a very solid foundation for what the core of the series would be. Load it up next to a modern game, and it feels so the same and different all at once. I’ve only played a little bit of FE1 itself. I just can’t get through it because FE11 is SO similar to FE1, so you really only have to play one to get the whole experience. I didn’t feel like playing the same game over again at the time, so FE1 is still on my unfinished list.

Basic, solid foundation for the ages / 10

FE3 / FE12

After FE11 played it “safe” and took an “upgraded graphics with a few new ideas tacked on” approach, I was blown away by how much FE12 did, even if it was more for worse than better sometimes. It added so many conversations, was the first to tinker with the idea of a more fleshed out Avatar, added more story… and so on.

From what I’ve read recently, the new story stuff isn’t that great, but I don’t remember now. I’ve only played this game once. Overall, despite some clunk with the giant maps and so on, this game really challenged itself to improve from FE11, and it’s how I learned to love remakes that aren’t afraid to deviate from and add a lot to the original!

Set the stage for what kind of fun and ambition an FE remake could have / 10

FE3 is way more of a classic than any of us in the West can truly understand. It sold insanely well (the best in the series until Awakening I believe?), challenged the programmers to put FE1 on the cart as well, long before re-releases were a thing in the industry, and the game even made it to the Super Famicom Mini! I haven’t played it yet because again, it’s hard to get the motivation to play through the slow speed and clunkiness when I’ve already experienced the remake, but I’m looking forward to it some day.

The good ol’ days of the Super Famicom & SNES / 10

FE6

This was the first game without Kaga (the series original creator), so it set the stage for a future without him. The series might have strayed far from his plans for story and such, but this game, while it was pretty basic, firmly established a new foundation for the series on a new system, and gave a glimpse of what greatness the future had in store.

Overall though, this game is harder to commit to memory than others, except for classic characteristics like how terrible Roy is until, finally, BAM he gets his sword in the final stretches of the game; and running in circles from Douglas so you can avoid fighting him and successfully recruit him after the chapter.

Awkward, but sets a solid foundation for post-Kaga and post-Famicom FE / 10

Fun But Flaws Distracted From The Fun A Lot Tier

FE16

I really, really hate to say it, because this game tries to mix up the FE formula with the school setting and other new features and changes, and brought in a good mix of old and new, just like all the other FE games. But this game left very little impact on me for such a big experience. And I’m leaving out the fact that trying to play all four routes is dull as heck when I place the game this low. I’m basing it off of just how much I enjoyed the first playthrough.

Overall, I was most turned off by the class system. Which is funny, because I’ve seen others praise this as FE’s best class system. Everyone’s different. Classic classes like troubadours are just gone. The top tier classes are super limiting. Of course, you can just stop one tier down, but that’s not emotionally satisfying to me - I want my characters to reach the top! Despite having such free choice, I feel more limited than anything. If they’d just stopped at 4 tiers and not tried to go to 5, I think that would have been best. They had to stretch out the available classes too much to get to 5. ...Although being able to have an army of dragon riders is awesome, I’ll give it that. Dragons are too cool. 

I was also really disappointed by the story. Fire Emblem has established that it can write a really emotional plot, and not be afraid to pull punches, with games like 4 and 8. I was expecting a huge contrast between part 1, where everyone is friends and classmates, and part 2, where war rips them apart, transforms them into different people, and forces them to brutally slaughter each other.

But in reality…the hate between Dimitri and Edelgard has nothing to do with the school at all… That was jarring to me. Of course there is no one right direction to take a story in. But the worldbuilding and story writing… feels even less coherent than Fates. That’s an accomplishment.

This is the one time I say ambition was really just too much. The game didn’t get enough polish. A game about the seasons doesn’t even have seasonal differences...

While my friends who don’t usually play Fire Emblem have had a fantastic experience with this one, after all I’ve been through, I found that I liked other FE’s more.

I think the best part about this game is the characters and supports. After Fates had a ton of supports in it just because it had to have them, the creators of this game weren’t afraid to change up the support formula once more, so they could balance quality and quantity. ...And then, ironically, this game went for the (almost entirely) mute, personality-less avatar character. Funny how that works out. XD

Dragon Lord Army Go! / 10

FE14

I feel this game deserves way more credit than it gets, while also agreeing with the critiques. The ambition was as great as ever. But then it got stuck in development hell and we got what we got. (For those who don’t know, the team was divided in two - the team that wanted a more fanservic-y experience, and the one that wanted to make a standard FE.)

I think the gameplay is the best part of this game, Conquest is great, and the gimmicks are indeed gimmicks, but still fun. In offering three different experiences, the entire package will please few, but that was the point of the multiple routes, to give everyone one route they would like, not to please everyone with all three.

But beyond the gameplay, the story is all over the place, the multiple routes just create more questions than answers; and features like an increased number of support convos and children feel like they are there only because of a desire to bring back “popular” features. After multiple food/cooking supports in a row, I couldn’t take it any more. There was so little that the characters were actually talking about in their supports vs. Awakening. I generally feel that more supports = better, because character interaction through supports is of course a highlight of post-Famicom FE, but in this case, the numbers did not do any favors.

Bringing back weapons that don’t break didn’t feel well done, either. I just ended up using basic weapons the whole time because I didn’t want to deal with the drawbacks of the higher level weapons.

Back to a positive for me: The hub world was neat, though it needed some convoluted story writing to be included. I was amused by going through the different features and collecting the items. I agree with Nintendo of America taking out the “petting minigame,” but since I lived in Japan when Fates released, it was amusing to do on the train and weird out the bored Japanese people who peered over my shoulder.

Since all three routes were different, this game was fun enough until the end in comparison to Three Houses, of which I am STILL trying to slog through the last route one year after release. But Fates was made for every route to be different, whereas Three Houses was not, so it’s not surprising I feel like that.

But time for the real talk about this game… why is everyone’s HP so low??? What happened?????

Up and down and all around in quality from start to finish / 10

FE15

I really want to like this game more. Oh, do I. It’s absolutely GORGEOUS, the character art makes my heart skip a beat, the game proved that full voice acting does fit FE really well, it fleshed out things like the dungeon crawling & story, and added support conversations & skills, etc. while still staying kind of basic, retaining the feeling that the original was on the NES. The momentum for the fun and ambition that an FE remake could have transitioned well from FE12 to here and led to this being a stunningly presented game.

But the creators totally missed the point on what were the defining features of the game in my opinion, and that mismatch of vision ruined a lot for me. I loved the imbalance, struggling as I placed my units in corners of maps just to survive, until I obtained all those OP items, and my super soldiers marched into battle and did wild and amazing things. Valbar with +5 move and 40 speed with the Speed Ring is the one thing I remember the best of FE2 and oh man was it fun, and did I love it.

And I mean, I understand why the creators weren’t going to keep that imbalance, it doesn’t make the game good for everyone. It’s just something I found fun, and made the game stand out among the other FEs. But the developers really just replaced old imbalance with new imbalance, the dread fighters being the one thing I remember in particular.

And they defined FE2’s best defining features as “the maps and the terrain effects” and I just did not agree. That was the stuff I DISLIKED about FE2! And that’s what they wanted to keep most? The terrain that made battles one giant miss, and the gigantic maps where I’d spend half the time just getting to the enemies? No thanks.

Then the story only cranked up the horrible treatment of the women, with Faye… being Faye, and I hated the direction they went in with Celica’s story...  Ugh.

For every step or two forward, there’s one back / 10

FE10

FE games are always ambitious, but this one cranked the dial up to 10 and tripped over itself a lot. Still, it provided (even if it is info dumped) an intense and satisfying ending to the Tellius saga, and is another classic for the ages. I found the pacing boring and slow until then, though.

I think now that I’m older I can appreciate the story much, much more - and how it shows the story and aftermath of the Mad King’s War from multiple points of view -  but the lack of the support conversations, and too much going on for any aspect of this game to be properly refined, still make this one lower on my list.

If only I could have played it more than once, to really get a good memory of the events of the game. My Wii actually scratched up my disk (How this happened, I don’t know, and it’s the ONLY disk my Wii ever slaughtered). It only held out long enough for my sibling and I to enjoy one playthrough each. I’ll get to playing my Japanese copy eventually!

Part 4 = Laguz Royals Emblem / 10

Somewhere Inbetween Tier

FE5

The last of the Kaga games. Still clunky and difficult, but with it’s own super unique features in capturing, stamina, and stealing weapons.

The brokenness of staves is not at all a flaw, but a feature in my opinion. Encouraging bizarre thinking and finding new ways to plow through maps is fun. I would probably be critical if this was a modern game, but I think older games need these quirks to stand out among modern titles with better graphics and decades of gaming history behind them.

And you still can complete the maps in a more traditional manner if you are determined. I did even for Reinhardt’s map.

Also, I gotta say... I don’t agree that this is the most difficult FE overall… it just has the hardest individual maps. The difficulty spikes are all over the place. The game goes from bashing your head against a wall to snoozefest constantly.

Fog of war was a mistake though, if I was a time traveler, I’d go back and make sure the programmers never figured out how to include it. XD

Steal ALL the tomes! / 10

FE13

Experiencing this game and its release in real time was an experience. The fandom really, truly thought this game might not only be the last FE ever, but also that it might not get a localization. Thinking there would never be a localization, I spent a night of my first trip to Japan buying a Japanese 3DS and a copy of the game. I only had 2 weeks on that study tour, but I was so determined that I used some of my precious free time to go shopping for it. To afford it, I even used the money my college gave to me for food, then subsided off of cheap convenience store meals with what little I had left. I barely had any true understanding of Japanese at the time, but I wanted other fans to experience this game, so I worked as hard as I could to translate as many supports as I could. This game is why I got into translation, and was what I really thought might be the end, so it will always have a special place in my heart for that.

Now to actually talk about playing the game itself. I really enjoyed it the first couple of times. Who cares that pair-up and the kids were OP, you either blast through the game with them and have a good laugh, or ignore them, set some challenging rules, and enjoy having at least a little challenge. I didn’t care much that the supports were a little lower quality because of the sheer number of them, I eagerly awaited unlocking each one, and reading what the two characters would talk about. (We fans have fanfiction to turn to if we hunger for more development. :p) The bonus content was plentiful, and a great fanservice-y way to bring the series to a close.

After all is said and done though, the game left me feeling empty when I thought about replaying it any further. The maps and story felt empty in comparison to previous games. Now that it’s been 8 years since the initial release, I’d of course enjoy a replay or two, but after having played FEs7-9 5 or 6 times in a row before moving on to the next game… anything less than that level of excitement was surprising for me. I placed this game kinda high on the list because it’s fun when you play it. It’s just doesn’t have as much replay value, I feel.

Also, as a group, the children characters are my favorite in the series. They all come from deeply traumatic backgrounds, and the way they work through that trauma and navigate being given a second chance, but also not a true second chance because this timeline is different from their own, is endlessly fascinating for me. I don’t know if other fans give them enough credit, so I wanted to point them out in particular.

Would have been a fantastic way to send off the series, despite the flaws / 10

FE2

This game is flawed, imbalanced, makes me want to throw things, and it’s all, somehow, in a way that makes me LOVE IT. ...So long as I’m playing using an emulator with a speed up button.

This game is so hard, and the hit percentages are such garbage. But as I played, and unlocked more and more OP weapons and items, until I reached a point where the zombie dragons - what once took all my efforts - were an enemy that can easily be slaughtered in 1-on-1 combat... I felt so satisfied.

Old games need some kind of charm to make them still worth revisiting in a world of much better graphics and features that have now had decades to be refined. For me, this game has that perfect kind of quirky charm in spades.

The maps and terrain though… I have no words, just bash your head into the wall and you will understand how I feel.

Also, this game reminds me of Zelda 2 in it being a black sheep of its respective series… that’s a fun little nugget of info.

Duma’s sprite / 10

FE7

I don’t remember this game as well, despite it being one that I’ve played about 5 times? I don’t know why, it’s yet another fantastic Fire Emblem with its own ways that it stands out, managing not one, not two, but three lords, introducing the tactician, and so on. Guess time has just not been kind to my memory on this one.

I remember being really impressed with the length of this game back in the day, and Hector’s mode offering enough differences to make it totally fun to replay the main game again.

Lyn gets kind of pushed to the side (because that’s what generally happens to women main characters in Fire Emblem, if there’s a male lord around), but having the three lords was really fun. With three people, you get a great balance between all of their personalities, and they all play off of each other well.

Of course I loved Lyn and Hector, most everyone does, but I was always just as much of an Eliwood fan. His average stats pushed people away from liking him as much as the others, but I always looked up to his kindness. Eliwood / Ninian was an especially favorite pairing for my sappy teenage heart. Eliwood was just so romantic and sweet to me.

And though the game was made easier with international audiences in mind, the developers hadn’t invented all of the “easier/for convenience” features yet, so this is the last time we got to enjoy some “harder” features like needing to buy weapons during battles, and a convoy separate from the main lord. That’s cool if you like that stuff.

Unlocking the paralogues is hard though / 10

Favorites Tier

FE8

When it comes to FE8, while there’s plenty to like about the gameplay (despite the game being so easy, but again, like I said with Awakening, you can just set your own challenge rules), what I really love to ramble on about is the story and its emotional impact. Lyon is so precious and kind, but has so many inner conflicts stewing deep inside of him, leading him to elder magics, and… The Demon King is just ends up as a sideshow compared to Lyon coming face to face with his own demons. Both the characters - and many players, I’m sure - hope and hope to find a way to save him, but there just isn’t one. There are never any real leads. There’s nothing. Only the harrowing reality that some people cannot be saved, no, that some people do not want to be saved. The inevitability of Lyon’s demise, and seeing it all play out, packs a punch most plots can only dream of.

But it’s not like I won’t talk about the gameplay features either. Bringing back much of the best of FE2, the overworld map and everything to do really enhances the experience. I mean, yeah, I guess two side dungeons isn’t that much to get excited over, I can see that critique… but I didn’t care, it allowed me to easily chase support conversations, and (with some RNG abusing to obtain enough Boots and money to buy the stat-boosting items, but hey, whatever it takes) I could max out my characters’ stats and truly “complete” a Fire Emblem game.

Sacred Stones is so awesome.

Finally! A postgame! I sure hope the developers keep this up in all the future games… oh. / 10

FE9

This is the first FE game I ever played, so it will always occupy the most dear and special place in my heart, even if FE4 eventually won over as my favorite.

Do you believe in first sight? I do, and this is what taught me it’s real. From the first second of the first cutscene, I was enthralled. ...And that’s saying something, when the FE9 cutscenes are the kind of thing only a mother could love. But I just knew. I may have been a wee lass of 14, but I knew a love that would last a lifetime was being born. ...Or that would at least last 14 more years. I can’t predict the future. Maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow and hate Fire Emblem with a burning passion? 2020 has taught me that tomorrow is always a big fat question mark.

Fun fact: in case you are wondering exactly what inspired my very initial interest in this series, it was a TV commercial. Probably this one. I just remember Ike running, of all things. My sibling and I both thought FE9 looked interesting from this commercial, and sought out the game all on our own with zero private knowledge that anything FE even existed.

This is where obsessions are born. Or mine at least. / 10 

FE4

As I’ve established, this is my favorite of favorites. The bizarre way money, arenas, items, and more were handled, actually made the game more and more fun for me. Big maps are just so fun. Gen 1’s story is a tale for the ages, and Gen 2’s story is… well, classic FE, which never gets old for me. It will never cease to amaze me even today what the SNES/S Famicom could handle.

All I’d want added is a “warp between conquered castles” feature. I’m completely neutral on a remake otherwise. Of course a lot more could be added and detailed upon that I’d be happy for, but that’s my one specific wish.

Calvary Emblem Forever / 10

Bonus:

FEH

I played this game every day for around 2 ½ years before I finally felt I had to break the habit, so I’m not leaving it out! This title got a lot of flack for simplifying FE gameplay, but… looking at it that way completely disregards the niche app games fill, and the interesting ways developers view what type of games app games should be, and how the developers work hard to both innovate for the format yet stay faithful to the source. It is surprisingly deep, and the maps + higher focus on unit skills make you think entirely differently about how to win in what is, in essence, the same gameplay as the main series.

Plus, what fan couldn’t get suckered into the fanservice of it? My best moments include attaining a +10 Nephenee while only spending money to get 2 of her, the other 9 were all F2P orbs; and becoming a Narcian/Valter shipper after supporting them on impulse because they were both on my flier team, and realizing the sick, twisted chemistry afterwards. Discovering rare-pairs is fun.

Also, finally, this game dared to nerf magic users a bit by making them RNG 2 only. If only the main series could do something like that.

I really enjoyed Heroes a lot, I just quit solely because it was a time drain. It was time to move on and play other things. And I’m glad I got out when I did. Seeing the game stoop to over-the-top powercreep (above and beyond what it was always implementing) and add the monthly service to keep the $$$$$ raking in was hard to watch.

Perfect app-style game gameplay-wise and fanservice-wise, but why aren’t gacha illegal yet / 10

FE Warriors

Oh yeah, this game exists too! It’s a Warriors game. If you like the formula and it never gets old for you, you’ll have fun with this game. If you don’t mind the limited game representation too much, you’ll have fun with this game. For me, the answers to those questions were a yes, so I enjoyed FE Warriors. Yay for wailing on hordes of enemies / 10

[browntownsquantos]

Hey Gloominati, I’ll be posting excerpts from my tour diary, as we snake down the west coast towards New Mexico on our current tour. 

Day 1: 

Seattle rehearsal day. 

Arriving for rehearsals at the turner compound is always an adventure. Of course it involves air travel, but then it usually involves a ride share and a boat to Aaron’s private island. While Nate and Steve chose to downsize to tiny amps and singular guitars on tour, I’ve decided to gloom the other way and UPSIZE. I used to bring just cymbals and a pedal, but I’ve decided the “brown sound” is too integral to Gloom, so I’m bringing my whole kit. I checked in my hardware, because I’m not nuts, but I traveled with the rest of my kit as a carry on. TSA was fine, they just wanted to make sure I wasn’t taking any produce into Washington state. In typical fashion though, the gate agent was a real NARC. She made me gate check both my floor toms, my 24” kick, my snare, and my cymbals. Lame. I got to bring my rack tom as a carry on though, and my new gong as my “personal item”. 

I opened and checked my shit upon landing, and some baggage handler dildo definitely set my shit up, as my tunings were all off. Nate and Steve were a little annoyed that I set the whole kit up in the baggage claim, but hey, gotta make sure I’m ready. I even made a few bucks from passers by when I played the album Christmas in its entirety to make sure shit was solid. 

We called a ride share, and homie was not stoked to have to strap it all to the roof of his Prius, nor were the other 3 people in the Uber pool we got who had to wait for it all to be secured. Not my problem. 

Once we got to the ferry station in Seattle, and we handed an ancient golden coin to the hooded ferryman, we started the long trip across the foggy water. I made chit chat with the ferryman, asking why he preferred a long stick over a motor, but dude was not responding. I caught a glimpse of his face under the long black robe, he looked methy as fuck. In fact, he didn’t seem to have skin. Anyway, I know aaron is a sucker for the theatric, so I didn’t think much about it. 

We landed on Turner Island, and Aaron was waiting for us on the other end. He served us some undressed salad and uncooked dry pasta for lunch, and it was off to rehearse! It was uneventful, like most gloom practices, a lot of testing out different pedals, dialing in of the sound, and me taking a ton of selfies while I’m waiting for something to fucking happen. We ran through some AC/DC covers, the intro to No More Tears, and the Nightcourt theme, then decided we’re tight enough and called it a day. 

As we always do after practice, we took a 4 man shower. We have this down at this point, but Steve being the new guy, he has to be at the end. Caleb was a master at being the tail in the shower, he could do some precision scrubbing with his little hands with such dexterity, it was incredible. Steve did ok, for being so young in the band. Nate didn’t seem to get his hair completely clean, but Steve’s learning.  Since Aaron and I founded the band together, we take turns being “second hand jimmy”, which is the name of the person who’s second. The sweet spot is the front, you get all the hot water and don’t have to scrub anyone. I love it. Those eight strong stringed instrument hands  scrubbing my little brown body is heaven. I hate being second hand jimmy though, scrubbing aaron. It feels like he’s covered in tick infested Brillo pads. Yuk. At least I’m mostly smooth and hairless, with the feel of a ziplock  bag full of margarine. Poor Nate, or 3rd place Nate, as we call him. Anyway, we air dry by doing jumping jacks, and off to dinner!

Dinner decision conversation is transcribed below:

Old man gloom sit at stools around a butcher block island in the center of a typically modern and minimal kitchen. 

Aaron- What do you guys want for dinner. The options are Thai, pizza, or hipster new American. 

Santos- Can we do old American, like before we made this country “great again”?

Aaron - Can someone else start talking right now so he can’t keep talking? Santos - I’ll just keep talking while everyone else is talking, because i’m a child.

Nate - You certainly look like a child. Well, no, your face looks old and like a leather bike seat that’s had two decades of ass on it, but your funny little body looks like a child. Steve - Guys, this isn’t productive. Santos has a neat body, it’s like a little fire hydrant! Tiny little arms, and really hard to move! Aaron - I like to imagine a car hitting his little  hydrant body, like in a car chase movie, and he just kinda falls over and pee’s in the air, instead of the fire hydrant spraying a water geyser in the air. Santos - Wow. You like to imagine me getting hit by a car? Nate, Aaron, Steve - YES. 

Santos - Wow. Is this because I made our band into an internet clown car?

Nate - No. We like that, we just don’t like almost anything else about you. 

Steve - Nate…That’s not cool. We like a lot of things about him!

Aaron - Name 3 things WE like about him.

Steve - He got us all those Chipotle gift cards from that Chipotle Corporate fan!

Nate - Nope. He was going to keep all of them until we busted him. Santos - Absolutely. I earned those. They were mine. I stand by that. 

Steve - Ok. Fine. Well, the margarita singles mixer at roadburn was pretty fun! Aaron - No it wasn’t. I had to take him to a 24 hour clinic in holland because he got drunk and insisted he got gonorrhea eye from making some poor fan give him eskimo kisses. 

Nate - That dude did have weird eyes. 

Santos - Thank you. 

Aaron - Then why are you making fans give you eskimo kisses? Santos - Because i’m a romantic. 

Steve - Well, what about when he got you those personalized pajamas by starting a kickstarter, Aaron? Aaron - Yes, that was awesome. The synthetic fabric gave me a rash, and now I get a pajamagram catalogue in the mail every 3 days. Perfect. 

Steve - Fair. Well, he always eats all the leftovers no matter how old the are? Nate, Aaron, Santos - Agreed. Santos - Sooooooooo…….New American? 

Aaron - Great. 

Steve - Great! Nate - Do they do breakfast all day? 

Stay tuned for day 2, Vacnouver!

[peter-parcoeur]

“When you’re gone” - Part IV

PETER PARKER x READER (Tony Stark’s daughter)

warning: lots of angst in this chapter & irondad+spiderson feels hitting hard

Previous chapters: one || two || three Comment if you like it ♥

IV.

Peter was sat in the bus on his way back home when he started thinking about a way to talk to Y/N without her spatting back at him or avoiding any eye contact. There must have been something, any topic that could possibly break that massive ice wall she had built around her.

What if she refused to talk to him? How awkward would it be to be locked in his own bedroom with a girl who hated his gut? That’s when he realized: in about an hour, Y/N would be in his bedroom. A girl. In his bedroom. No girl had even been that close to his intimacy and suddenly, the thought of it made his throat dry from all the nervousness he had built in just a minute.

When the bus stopped, Peter started running as fast as he could to get home, using a couple swings from his webs to get there quicker. Slamming the door behind him, he rushed to his bedroom and sighed desperately at the sight in front of him.

A complete mess.

Usually, he wouldn’t be too bothered about his unkempt “personal space”. After all, the only people who were allowed to walk in there were May, Happy (occasionally) and Ned who happened to be even worst on the personal hygiene scale. Needless to say, his best-friend never complained about Peter’s smelly socks all over the floor, his untidy bed and all the obvious signs that screamed “nerd alert” like his Lego Death Star from Star Wars or his video games scattered all over the room.  

Picturing Y/N Stark standing there in the middle of this mess almost gave him a panic attack.

He had now less than an hour to get rid of all of his shameful toys, tidy up his room and remove the obvious smell of a 17yo virgin who’d rather spend his nights gaming or streaming porn than try and get an actual girlfriend.

It took him half an hour to hide any shameful hint at his loneliness, hoarding his closet with his toys, clean up the room and make his bed. Running out of ideas as his brain had gone to FULL PANIC mode, Peter went into the bathroom, hoping to find some kind of home fragrance that would give his bedroom a fancy, sophisticated smell. Unfortunately, all he could find were May’s favorite perfumes. Without a second thought, Peter grabbed the first one in sight and sprayed his bedroom with it. The bottle made it seem like an expensive “haute couture” smell.

“That’ll do” he thought.

“What are you doing?”

Peter jumped at the sound of May’s voice. She was coming back from work and now standing in his doorway, staring at him through her thin glasses.

“Err, a bit of clean-up?”

“Are you sick or something?” she joked, obviously surprised at her nephew’s unusual activity.

“No? I mean… I had all of this energy and… I felt like… It was overdue, you know” he stammered, kicking a comic book under his bed with his foot.

“Okay, cut the bullshit, your room smells like Coco Chanel’s farted in there” she laughed, raising her eyebrow until he dared to admit the reason behind his sudden change of habits.

“Okay, okay but let’s not make a big deal about this?” he started, waiting for her to nod.

“There’s this girl –“ he started.

“Ooooh a girl!” she beamed “you’ve got a date?”

“What? No! why would I take a girl on a date in my bedroom!”

“Dates often end in a bedroom” May stated before correcting herself “not that I would allow it under my roof!”

“It’s not a date, May… We have this assignment, so we’ll be working here, maybe a couple hours a week?”

“Oh, well, that’s cool”

“Can you please, PLEASE… not make it embarrassing for me?”

“First of all, wow… yes offence? And second, why would I do that?”

“You tend to do that actually”

She smiled, only because she couldn’t deny it.

“I promise I’ll behave. Who’s the girl?”

“Y/N Stark”

“As in---“

“Yes”

“Wow. Okay. Are we okay with this? I mean, are you… okay?”

Peter shrugged, quite unsure about the whole situation. He had been so busy cleaning-up his mess to make it less awkward for him that he had completely forgotten about how she’d feel. Right now, he could only hope for the best.

“I guess we’ll see?”

May nodded and walked into the room to peck the top of his head.

“You should open your window, it smells like a hooker died in there”

“That’s actually your perfume?”

“You don’t know everything about me, sweetie” she smiled, pinching his cheek before she left his room “I’ll be in the living room doing my thing, you know where to find me… And keep that door open, we don’t want any baby spiders running around this place a year from now!”

Peter rolled his eyes and grunted at the awkwardness of this conversation. Looking around him, he felt quite proud of himself at the sight of his neat, organized bedroom. It actually looked like a place where he’d love to have his first kiss and a couple more first times.

Not that he had this in mind with Y/N. At least, not until now he hadn’t.

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

 There was a knock on the door at 6:30 sharp, which reminded him of Tony’s typical habit of showing up on time wherever around the world. May watched him walk to the hallway, trying to keep it cool when he was actually halfway between a good run and a steady walk. He had now changed clothes to one of his only “great” sweater, with his sleeves rolled up and a fresh pair of jeans. If May hadn’t promised to behave, she would have commented on his fancy “this is not a date” new look.

Nervousness kicked in when he opened the door and saw her standing there with her backpack hanging on her right shoulder. She was wearing some sort of Gym apparel, skin-tight yoga pants and a cropped sweater that gave him a quick glimpse of her toned stomach and tiny waist. Her hair was tied in a high ponytail and her glistening skin made it look like she had jogged to his place.

“Hi” he said, almost out of breath as he realized she looked even better make-up free and wearing the most casual sports clothes. He felt suddenly stupid for wearing his good sweater now.

“Hi, sorry for this” she pointed at her outfit “I thought I would have some time to change after my dance class but I didn’t want to be late so--- here I am”.

Peter couldn’t help but smile as she said it. She didn’t want to be late.

“Don’t flatter yourself, I just hate to be late” she added when she realized he must have heard his side of the story and now making up his own scenario about how she couldn’t wait to see him again. None of this was an option on her side.

“It’s okay” he blurted “come on in”

Y/N was pleasantly polite and nice to May as she introduced herself when Peter thought she would be hating on the Parker’s name over ten generations. When she complimented May’s outfit, Peter thought about how his life would be if he ever managed to date a girl like Y/N and what a major upgrade that would be.

When Y/N turned around, May gave her nephew the thumbs up, mouthing “I like her!” with a bright, encouraging smile on her face. Peter simply answered with a sign of his hand miming a throat cut that could only mean “please shut up”.

“Do you want anything to drink?” he asked when they entered his room.

“Water would be nice”

Peter excused himself as she dropped her backpack to the floor, her eyes exploring his room with a noticeable curiosity. When he came back a couple minutes later with two glasses of water, Y/N was standing in front of his desk, scanning through the pictures on his wall.

Squishing his eyes shut with complete despair, Peter realized he had forgotten to take off the most important parts of his room: Tony’s pictures.

“Hmm” he coughed “here’s your--- water” he hesitated, handing her one of the glasses.

“Thanks” she whispered, barely noticing him as her eyes seemed glued to the picture of her 8yo-self smiling brightly in Peter’s arms.  He looked exactly the same as today, only less broody.

Peter didn’t know whether to speak at all or just stand there awkwardly as she processed her thoughts. It was probably creepy for her to see herself as a child in his arms while standing there next to him, looking like he’d never aged. For a second, it seemed like her wall had collapsed and she was actually reachable. Her eyes were haunted with a mix of nostalgia and sadness but she didn’t seem angry anymore.

“Weird, right?” Peter blurted out when he didn’t know what else to say.

“What is?” she asked “This situation or the fact you keep a picture of a little girl on your wall?”

Peter frowned. Maybe that wall was still there after all. Luckily, some of his biggest strenghts were his patience and obstinacy.

“I only keep it there because it’s a good memory. I had a good day and I wanted to remember it… That’s all. Sorry if it creeps you out.”

She seemed surprised with his honesty, but it was nothing next to his own surprise when she answered.

“It was a good day, yeah” she said, her face daring to show some hints of a smile in the corner of her lips before her eyes drifted to a picture of Tony and Peter and all signs of happiness faded away.

She turned around quickly and looked for a place to sit, her nose sniffing as she quite obviously tried to refrain from crying.

“We should get going, my mum wants me home by 8pm” she said, grabbing a notebook and a pen as she sat on the bed when she failed to find a desk and/or a chair.

The tip of her nose had turned red from the rush of sadness she had felt, looking at her father’s smile on this picture. To think of the pain she was going through made Peter feel worse than ever, so he decided not to mention anything personal as long as she didn’t give him a greenlight.

That didn’t happen until the next hour.

They had been working on their assignment for over an hour when Y/N suddenly seemed unable to contain herself any longer.

“What could he possibly see in you?” she snapped, smacking her pen on her notebook with a hard tug that made Peter jolt with surprise.

“Excuse me?” he asked, bewildered at her sudden mood swing.

“I’m sorry I just--- I’m trying to understand what my father could possibly love SO much about that he felt the need to travel back in time and just…. Abandon me.”

She had said it. The word she was dreading to speak out loud.

Her father had abandoned her so he could save another kid.

Getting up from the bed, she paced his room back and forth as she tried to compose herself so she wouldn’t cry in front of him. Peter felt terrible now. Never in a million year had he thought about her side of the story. How could she think Tony had abandoned her?

“He didn’t abandon you, Y/N, how can you say that?”

“Oh really? And what do you call it? Some heroic sacrifice? BULLSHIT! You weren’t there! None of you fucking Avengers were there to see it!”

“See… what?”

“The look on his face when he came back without you” she sniffed, turning around to face him now, wiping her face with the back of her sweater as tears started rolling down her cheeks.

“I hoped and prayed he would come back… I thought he had died up there, just like all of you… I was heartbroken and just when I’d completely lost hope… He came back from freaking Space with that blue chick!” her voice was cracking up with emotion by now, Peter wished he could’ve walked up to give her a warm, comforting hug, but she seemed furious at him.

He realized just how much she resented him when she kept on talking.

“I was so relieved, it was genuinely the happiest day of my life… To have him back, I felt lucky, I felt blessed…” she paused “but do you know what his first words to us were?”

Peter shook his head no.

“I’ve lost the kid” she said, recalling her father’s words as vividly as ever.

Peter looked up to stare into her eyes, his own watering from the aching pain in his stomach. No one had ever told him about this before Y/N. To hear this was a terrible reminder of his loss.

“You think that’s painful? Try and have your father losing sleep for months, staying up all night trying to figure out how to turn things back so he can bring YOU, precious Peter Parker back.” She snapped “He didn’t do this to save the world, he wanted to save you! He left me and my mom knowing this would be a one way trip!”

She was properly crying now, sobbing through her words as she recalled the day he left her, never to come back again.

“I’m—“ Peter started “I’m so deeply sorry Y/N… I didn’t know… I—“

“Of course you didn’t! That’s what makes it so hard for me to hate you!” she bawled, unable to contain herself now at the wound inside her heart seemed to have opened wide for the first time since the funeral.

Peter instinctively got up and wrapped her in his arms, hoping she wouldn’t punch him for even touching her. She rested against his chest, rigid as a tree so he wouldn’t feel any of her weaknesses. He could feel her shaky breath against his neck as she sobbed uncontrollably on his shoulder. Resting one hand behind her neck, hoping to soothe her, Peter went completely silent until she felt ready to speak again.

“You know the worst part of this—“ she started, freeing herself from his arms like she wouldn’t allow herself to be that close to him –

“I was actually sad when you didn’t come back with him, can you believe it?” she used both of her sleeves to wipe her eyes off, unbothered about how messy she looked now.

“Part of me was extremely thankful to have my dad back, but I couldn’t help thinking about you. Isn’t that just hilarious really? I cried when he told me about everything, how you vanished in front of his eyes, how you… apologized and cried and… I was genuinely heartbroken because for some reasons, I adored you! Just like my father did!”

Peter was loss for words, it felt like a truck had run over him about ten times. He was just standing there speechless, looking at her with tears in his eyes.

“It haunted me for weeks… But I had my father so I guess, I couldn’t be mad at the universe about a teenage boy from the Queens! But then my father left and suddenly… I’d lost you both.”

She paused, slightly out of breath from all the crying.

“My favorite person in the entire world, my universe, my role model, my guardian angel… and you, that nice, funny guy I had an irrational childish crush on! How stupid really, what a joke.”

Never in a million years would Peter had thought about this. To think she was actually sad he was gone was unthinkable, even if he knew how much she seemed to appreciate him as a child. Talking about this brought back memories from the past, how every time he visited Tony and his family, Y/N seemed so happy to see him. Tony even often joked about how he would become her favorite person someday, never hiding his jealousy whenever Y/N asked for ‘her best friend Peter’. All of this seemed surreal now that she was his age, standing there looking both flawless and broken.

“I don’t know what to say, Y/N… I wish I could do anything, I swear—“he hesitated.

“I swear I would take his place in the blink of an eye if I could turn back time once more… I never asked for any of this to happen, I don’t even recall the snap, it’s just a blur… Sometimes it doesn’t even feel real and I expect to wake up and everything’s back to normal”.

She could tell he was as upset as she was now, only slightly more disturb by his own memories.

“I know you’re going through the worst kind of pain right now but… I’ve lost him too.”

“Don’t you dare!” she threatened “he wasn’t your father!! How can you—“

“HE WAS THE CLOSEST THING I HAD TO A FATHER!!” he cried out, completely losing it now as he realized all of his father figures were long gone.

“You’ve lost your father… I’ve lost three.” He sighed, sitting on the edge of his bed with his head buried in his hands at the thought of his own dad, his uncle Ben, and now Tony.

 “I think you should go” May’s voice came out of nowhere, unexpected. None of them knew how long she had been standing there but her face said it all. She couldn’t handle the pain Peter was going through.

Y/N watched as May stood in the doorway with a concerned look.

“I’m sorry Ms Parker” Y/N simply stated, powerless. As she walked closer to Peter to pick up her backpack from the floor, he never looked up to meet her gaze. Part of her wanted to show some sign of support, a hand on his shoulder, a pat on the back, anything, but she couldn’t. That pain mixed with resentment was too conflicted, that wound was too fresh.

“Do you want me to call Happy so he drives you home?” May asked as she realized Y/N seemed to be as distressed as her nephew.

“I’ll walk. Thank you Ms. Parker”

With that, she left the room.

May sat next to Peter on his bed as soon as they both heard the front door closing.

“So… that was a shitty date” she smiled, wrapping an arm around Peter, hoping her usually goofiness would save the day, once again.

“Really, May?”

“Sorry… Do you want to talk about this? I can do adult talk”

“I think I’d rather be alone if that’s okay” he sighed, finally lifting his head up to wipe off the tears from his eyes. He looked drenched from all the energy he had left in his body.

Of all of May’s qualities, Peter appreciated the fact she wasn’t over reaching when he asked for privacy. She knew how to be discreet and how to respect his need for loneliness. He knew he could always count on her any time of the day.

“I’m just saying this” she added while leaving the room “this could either end with a physical fight… or the most intense love story”.

“May, please” he sighed “now is not really a perfect time for jokes”.

“You just wait…” she smiled before she left the room, closing the door behind her.

Peter immediately crashed against his pillow, feeling drained.

As he tried to fall asleep, he felt something poke his back and reached for it only to find out Y/N’s had left her notebook behind. Out of curiosity, he flipped through the pages, mostly homework and notes from different classes, until a piece of folded paper dropped from behind the front cover.

Part of him knew this wasn’t right. He wasn’t usually that curious but somehow, he felt the need to catch a glimpse.

His heart sunk in his chest when he recognized Tony’s handwriting.

The two couple words were enough for him to lose it.

“Give this to the kid—“

[ackervida]

Flames of Nirvana, ch 2

TW: This story will contain strong language, canon-typical violence, implied/mentions of rape, mentions of suicide, abuse, suicide attempts and explicit sexual content. It is manga compliant up until chapter 128, so there will be spoilers!

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23990044/chapters/57707902

Summary: In the heat of a never ending war, Levi finds himself recruiting a compromised spy. But the war outside is nothing compared to their own inner battles, and hand in hand, they find the strength to conquer them one by one. And the world follows.

Pairing: Levi x Reader

Chapter 1: https://ackervida.tumblr.com/post/617128447226101760/flames-of-nirvana-ch-1

Chapter 2

“Miss F/N.”

She mumbled something unintelligible, turning on her other side. Thankfully, her ribs had healed enough to prevent her from wheezing in pain with the movement – the lack of bandages around her face also made sleeping so much more comfortable, when F/N finally ended up succumbing to it. She hated it with every fiber of her being, yet there wasn’t much else for her to do during the past month other than sleep.

“Miss F/N, you have to wake up.”

F/N sighed, opening an eye to look at Falco’s cute little face. He and the other kiddo around, Gabi, had been taking turns bringing her meals and various other things in the past weeks. Apparently, they wanted to be helpful to the older soldiers, since they still had a year left before they could properly enroll in the military. F/N was saddened when they’d revealed this ambition to her, but in a way she could understand – once you’ve been on the frontlines, it was very difficult to sit idly, regardless of your age.

She had to admit, waking up to two adorable kids was much more pleasant than having the doctor come in – she hadn’t mentioned it to anyone, but F/N couldn’t quite stomach him. He had a bad habit of making her feel like she was exaggerating the pain she was in, his ‘routine’ examinations involved a suspicious amount of roaming hands and he’d kept her bedridden all this time – she knew from Falco and Gabi that the other three survivors had already been cleared, recovering in their new home, the Marleyan barracks. She had yet to even be allowed to walk, which was already becoming increasingly preposterous – she’d tried it unsupervised at night, and she was just fine. Also, a part of her was intrigued by the prospect of meeting her fellow renegades. In the chaos of the sewers, F/N hadn’t even managed to get a glimpse of their faces, and they hadn’t set foot inside her assigned room, not even after being discharged. She sometimes wondered if they held resentment for her for some reason, but then she remembered that only the higher ranking soldiers had introduced themselves: Hange, Magath and, implicitly, Levi.

F/N had been surprised when Levi finally made the proposition for her to join their forces. She had expected to put the information she possessed to good use, yes, but she was still nothing more than a compromised spy. She was useless in the field, since her identity was known. And yet, Levi had insisted – she didn’t have to be a spy, she could be a soldier.

All of her subsequent doubts had been promptly put down.

Her knowledge of weaponry was limited? She could learn.

Never used mobility gear in her life? There was a first for anything.

Her hand-to-hand combat skills were mediocre? He would teach her himself.

F/N couldn’t figure out why he was so adamant, but she’d agreed. Of course she had. She’d thought there was no purpose left for her, no reason for her to still be alive, nothing of use she could still provide. If even one person thought otherwise, though, then she would try her very best to prove them right.

If only she could get the fuck out of that bed.

“Hey, Falco,” she greeted through a yawn, stretching her nearly atrophied limbs. “How are you today?”

“Good,” he smiled, setting a tray on her nightstand. “It’s my birthday, actually,” he added shyly.

F/N gasped loudly, patting him on the head. She tried not to let her lack of nails bother her too much – it was strange, but not permanent. “Happy birthday! What are you doing here, then? Why aren’t you celebrating?”

“Well, I want to. But I’m waiting for everyone to come back to base. I thought I’d make cake for everybody.”

F/N hummed – indeed, she had received no visits from anyone other than Falco, Gabi and her insufferable doctor during the past couple of days. Not even from Levi, who visited her almost every day. They must have left for an assignment.

“You know how to bake a cake?” she asked with a small smile, gratefully accepting the bowl of soup. Cauliflower soup again, F/N couldn’t help but notice, chuckling quietly to herself. One of these days, she’d have to finally admit to Levi that she hated it with a passion, and her order at the teashop had been predetermined. She was, however, too hungry to be fussy – her appetite had finally returned.

Falco blushed at the question. “Um, I’ve never done it before...”

“Hmm,” F/N pondered for a moment, an idea slowly forming in her head. “Have you asked Gabi for help?”

Bless his little heart. One had to have lived in a cave to fail to notice the sweet, budding romance between those two, for the boy turned crimson at her question.

“S-She’s in town too. U-Um, don’t tell her I know, but I think she’s buying me a present.”

F/N very nearly cooed. These two were a big part of the reason why she managed to pull herself together in the past weeks – after all, who could mope around a couple of sweethearts?

She grinned, her eyes holding a mischievous glimmer. “So, there is no one around here for now?”

“The soldiers assigned for guard duty are here, and Mister Adam, Mister Joey and Miss Anya-“

“Mhmm. Well, in that case, I have a deal for you.”

Falco cocked his head in confusion. “A deal?”

F/N motioned for him to come closer, so she could whisper in his ear. “If you get me out of the infirmary, I’ll help you bake that cake.”

The boy gasped, his eyes turning wide. “But you’re not allowed to-“

“-Get out of bed, I know. But that’s ridiculous at this point. I can move just fine, but no one here wants to believe me,” she explained, employing a strategic little pout. Falco obviously felt for her, but he was still reluctant, she could tell.

“I don’t know… I don’t want to upset Captain Levi… He’s scary.”

F/N raised a brow at that. “Is he now? I think he’s actually quite nice.”

The poor boy was momentarily too stumped to offer a reply to that, so F/N shook her head and gave him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. I’m a big girl, if anyone gets upset then I will be the one dealing with them, not you. Plus, I can make a mean chocolate cake.”

Falco finally agreed, and she thanked him by excitedly ruffling his hair. For the first time in… longer than she could remember, she actually felt giddy for something.

And, true to her word, F/N easily stood on her own feet and began rummaging around the room to find a decent set of clothing – the short, transparent white robes she was constantly given to wear were another reason she couldn’t stand the doctor’s guts. In fact, Falco turned around so quickly he nearly popped a vein in his neck – he was used to seeing her lying in bed, covered by the sheets. He hadn’t expected… this.

“Could you keep watch outside, please? We don’t want to get caught before the fun even begins,” F/N said tactfully. As expected, the boy barely uttered an affirmative response before practically bolting outside.

She giggled to herself, then exhaled a breath of relief upon opening the small closet next to the window. Thank goodness. F/N quickly grabbed some fresh underwear, black leggings and a light blue, button-up shirt and walked into the attached bathroom. She was incredibly thankful for her little deal with Gabi – after a particularly unpleasant incident with her doctor, F/N had made a secret arrangement with the girl. F/N started bathing by herself, while Gabi claimed she had taken onto those duties for her – the young woman hadn’t divulged the real reason behind it, opting to just tell her that she wanted to at least do something by herself, but it was a welcome change regardless.

After a quick cleanup and a check on her remaining bandages, F/N spared one look in the mirror. She wasn’t a doctor, but this looked like a nice recovery to her. Admittedly, there were still a few injuries that needed further healing and she was still a little bit underweight, but those problems could be solved outside of this hellhole of a room. Maybe it was because her mental state was finally showing improvement, but F/N had had enough at this point.

“All clear?” she asked, poking her head outside the room. It was as if even the air itself was different, fresher.

“Let’s go,” said Falco, taking the lead and quietly, but quickly leading her somewhere. She made a point of remembering the various turns, gazing at the corridors and attached doors with interest. The infirmary seemed to be attached to the barracks, which was a bit strange to her – there were special areas destined for everything in Starke – but somehow, although bare, this place felt much more welcoming.

They ended up in a spacious area, filled with tables and chairs, and F/N realized it must be a sort of common room. Modest, but charming. She instantly loved it.

“The kitchen is here,” Falco said quietly, taking this sneaking-around business very seriously and opening another door. F/N chuckled, but raised her brows in appreciation upon stepping inside. It was quite large, and there were numerous labeled boxes neatly stocked in easily accessible places. All the pots, pans and kitchen utensils had a designated place, and there wasn’t a single dirty spoon in the entire kitchen.

“Wow, it’s so tidy,” she couldn’t help but say in awe. After all, unlike Starke, where they had people specially assigned for cleaning duties, Marley covered that by soldier rotation as far as she knew. They must be a very neat bunch, and in her experience, soldiers were anything but.

Falco turned to her, wearing a very serious expression. “Captain Levi always wants everything to be perfectly clean. It’s how it’s been ever since he moved here.”

“Oh?” F/N tilted her head, admittedly amused by this revelation. She couldn’t help but wonder where that particular quirk of his stemmed from.

“We’re going to have to clean everything before he gets here, and clean it right.”

She couldn’t help but burst into giggles. Why was the poor boy so scared of Levi? Yes, the way he said things could be coarse, but F/N hadn’t once heard a malicious word come out of the man’s mouth since she’d met him.

“Miss F/N! I’m serious!”

“Okay, okay,” she raised her hands defensively, containing her mirth for his sake. “We’ll clean everything, three times. Now let’s see, there’s flour, eggs, cocoa…”

“Wow,” Falco gaped for the umpteenth time, staring at the tall, delicious looking cake. F/N, who was having much more fun than she felt comfortable admitting, had decided to go all out and form cute little patterns in the chocolate buttercream.

“It looks so good!”

The entire place admittedly smelled amazing, and F/N smiled. The scent brought back happy memories, a welcome change from what she’d lived in recent times. She applied the last detail and sent Falco a knowing look. “Do you want to lick the spoon?”

“Can I??”

“Well, I’ll be,” an unfamiliar voice made them both jolt and turn around, only to meet three different pairs of eyes.

“Whoa, that is massive!” a blue eyed, young man whistled, jogging ahead of the other two individuals to get a better look. He was tall, skinny and had a pale complexion, with a tuft of curly brown hair. “This is the surprise you were talking about, Falco?”

“It’s better!” the boy laughed, his eyes closing in bliss as he licked the gooey wooden spoon clean. “Miss F/N, this is delicious!”

Her name seemed to spark recognition in all of them, which led to a rather uncomfortable moment of them staring at her, while she understood who exactly they were.

“It’s good to finally meet you,” F/N eventually said, testing the waters more than anything. “You all seem to have recovered nicely.”

“Wait – you were discharged?” the same young man exclaimed, as if in disbelief. Upon giving him a better look, there were no traces of physical wounds that she could see, and F/N realized he must have been the one who’d been lucky enough not to get whipped before the Starkans fled.  “They said your doctor wanted to keep you in bed for another two months.”

F/N simply shrugged. “Well, I disagreed with that.”

“I-I’m Joey,” he extended his hand, as if just remembering that they had yet to properly acquaint themselves, although they knew of each other. “Joey Fawkes.”

She smiled politely, accepting the handshake. The other, older man then approached her and F/N could immediately tell that, whatever was weighing down on his soul, he wasn’t coping well. The frown etched on his features wasn’t one of ill will, she could see that in his expressive brown eyes – he was just incredibly sad.

The man, whom she identified to be Adam, didn’t introduce himself or offer a handshake. Instead, after paying her one look, he reached out and scooped some buttercream off the cake with his finger.

Deep down, that gesture irked F/N, but she didn’t let it show.

“Not too sweet,” he commented with a surprisingly smooth voice. She offered a smile.

“It’s good,” Adam said, after which he walked straight to the gas stove and set a kettle on the flame, probably in order to make coffee or tea.

“Don’t mind him,” Anya whispered in her ear, laying a strong arm on her shoulder and speaking their mother tongue. “He still hasn’t gotten used to being here… and it’s not a happy story.”

F/N hummed in understanding, watching him with a sympathetic look.

“So why the hell haven’t you been discharged yet, sugar? You’re stick thin, but other than that you seem fine,” the woman said louder, in a rough Marleyan, grabbing her by the shoulders and staring at her up and down. Anya seemed to have a long scar through her lips and down her chin, but it had healed quite nicely from the looks of it.

F/N shrugged, not really eager to get into the topic concerning her doctor, especially around Falco.

“Ah, I’m not really sure. I guess doctor Meyer wants to clear me when I’m fully healed.”

That seemed to be the wrong thing to say, for Anya’s face instantly darkened – it was quite a scary sight. Next to her, Joey drew in a nervous breath.

“Meyer? Isn’t that the one you socked in the family jewels?” he asked Anya innocently. The brunette harrumphed.

“Stuck up piece of shit who can’t keep his hands to himself? You’ve been assigned to him? And you haven’t kicked him in the dick?”

“Err,” F/N didn’t quite know how to respond, the whole subject making her extremely uncomfortable and embarrassed. She was not exactly used to having the liberty to issue complaints regarding other people’s treatment of her body. That seemed to become apparent, for Anya and Joey both regarded her with sudden understanding.

“Look, doll, I know you were in the espionage unit and I know what that means. But that’s over and done with now. Someone acts in a way you don’t like, you should say something. Or sucker punch them,” Anya said, adding the last part as an afterthought, as if she were talking about daisies. “Actually, Joey here trained to be a field medic and he’s pretty damn good. You can take a look at her, yeah?”

“Sure,” he grinned, white teeth showing. “If you’re okay with that, F/N. We should all have each other’s backs, after all.”

“Thanks,” F/N replied, a little bit too quickly. She recognized that they were trying to be helpful, but unfortunately the little pep talk only made her feel like a deer in headlights – it wasn’t a matter she was in any way happy to discuss, and she felt exposed. “I appreciate it, but I’m fine, really. I really should, ah, get started on cleaning this place though, huh Falco? I made a huge mess,” F/N forced herself to laugh, escaping the conversation altogether. Thankfully, Falco pretended to have not heard the exchange and nodded vigorously. He intended to get started on the dishes in the sink, yet F/N playfully pushed him away with her hip.

“Birthday boys don’t have to do cleanup,” she chided. “Also, shouldn’t your friends be back by now?”

“No!” surprisingly, all three of her compatriots yelled vehemently. F/N cocked her head to the side in befuddlement, but caught Adam, who was sipping his black coffee, subtly gesturing towards the door and then making a flashing motion with his hand.

Ahh, okay. She got it.

“How about we all clean together?” Joey proposed excitedly, not giving Falco enough time to properly question the outburst. “We’ll get it done faster and there’s less of a chance Captain Levi will have your heads!”

“What the hell is up with that?” F/N mumbled quietly to herself, but shook her head and joined the enthusiastic agreement. She grabbed a broom and got to work.

They were almost done, when Joey began a series of intense (and quite hilarious) gestures behind Falco’s back. F/N had to cover her smile with her hand.

“Why don’t you all take a break and hang out in the mess hall? I’ll finish in here,” she offered.

“Are you sure, Miss F/N?”

“Yes, yes, go on ahead,” the young woman waved him off, already taking her strategic position behind the cake. It was a good thing she’d had the inspiration to place it on a wheeled cart in the first place – there was no way she could carry something so heavy with her injuries.

“Alright, then,” Falco agreed with a wide smile. “Thank you again, Miss F/N!”

Anya inconspicuously passed her an object as she left, and F/N couldn’t help the happy giggle that escaped her mouth upon hearing the loud cheer that echoed as soon as they made their entrance into the mess hall. Falco was a great kid, he deserved it.

She quickly took the twelve candles out of the bag Anya had dropped into her hand and began placing them neatly on the cake. She lit them all with matchsticks and then, grimacing in pain from the effort, she pushed the cart into the mess hall.

Completely aware that her presence would be met with shock, F/N instantly began singing a birthday song, which they all had no choice but to join. She could still feel that she was being stared at, but this was Falco’s moment – and, anyway, she forgot all about it when she saw him being squished by Gabi in a tight hug. It was too cute.

“Make a wish and blow the candles!”

He did just that, and then he accepted his birthday wishes with a beaming face. “Can we all have cake now, Miss F/N?”

Gabi stared with wide eyes. “It looks so good!”

“You have no idea!”

“The hell are you doing here?” F/N faced the inevitable, turning towards Levi halfway even as she began serving slices. She decided to take her chances and be a bit cheeky, offering him a plate.

“I made birthday cake.”

Predictably, he did not find her dry humor tasteful, but Hange stepped in before the Captain could respond.

“Anya told me you’ve been having the same trouble as her with Dr. Meyer?”

F/N exhaled through her nose. She’d wished to be able to weasel herself out of the situation without having to talk about it, she really had.

“What?”

“It’s nothing serious. I feel fine and I wanted to get out of bed. Obviously that wasn’t such a horrible idea, since I haven’t dropped dead yet.”

Unlike Anya, Hange immediately tuned in to her reluctance to speak of it and F/N was grateful that she dropped it. “I’ll go ahead and make the arrangements for you to be cleared then.”

“Thank you.”

The bespectacled scientist gave her a warm smile and, true to her word, walked out. Levi clicked his tongue.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Oh, hi!” F/N cheerfully greeted Levi’s former squad as they all came over to get their slices. “This is your team, right?” she addressed Levi, purposely ignoring his question. He grumbled something about it not being so officially anymore, obviously annoyed that she’d deflected him.

“How do you know?” Armin asked, raising a brow. “I mean, we weren’t allowed to visit you per doctor’s orders.”

“He talks about you guys a lot,” F/N grinned, eyeing each one of them for a moment. “Let’s see… Armin, Jean, Mikasa and Connie?”

“…Right,” said Connie, on behalf of all of them. “I didn’t know you liked us enough to talk about us, Captain.”

“Piss off, brats.”

F/N tried to contain her laughter when they did exactly as he said, but apparently she failed.

“Something funny?”

“No. It’s just,” she relented, not wanting to get on his nerves for evading two questions in a row. “Everyone seems to be so scared of you.”

“Tch.”

“Poor Falco was manic about cleaning the kitchen.”

Levi deadpanned, walking past her. F/N blinked for a moment, after which she had to hold her aching sides from the force of her laughter, following him back into the kitchen. She couldn’t believe it – he’d actually walked there to check if it was clean?

“At least it’s not despicable,” was the verdict.

She leaned against a sparkling clean counter, mirth dancing in her eyes. “Oh?”

“The wooden spoons are in the wrong place, there are condensation marks on the oven door and you missed a few crumbs on the floor.”

F/N watched as he moved around, fixing the errors he spoke of.

“Hmm. So what would happen if everything weren’t spotlessly clean?”

Levi cocked his head at her, momentarily halting his actions. He didn’t speak right away. “Why wouldn’t it be, if it can be? We’re not pigs, so why live like them.”

“Have you lived like a pig before?” she prodded him further, observing the way he methodically wiped the oven door. It definitely didn’t look like something compulsive since he didn’t seem to think twice about getting dirty when the situation required it - it was probably a control issue.

The Captain sent her a look. “Are you trying to pick my brain again?”

F/N lifted her hands in surrender. She couldn’t help it sometimes – it was her natural charisma, coupled with her compassionate demeanor which made her easy to open up to that had gotten her recruited in the first place, and now that she possessed an entire arsenal of techniques, it was difficult not to employ them without thinking.

“You’re awfully curious about others for someone who barely talks about herself.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to prod.”

“That wasn’t my point,” Levi countered. However, he seemed to decide that pushing her was just as futile as her pushing him, so the Captain changed his approach. “Are you getting along well with the others?”

F/N tilted her head, offering a small shrug. “They’ve been kind to me so far.”

“Tch. I’d be surprised if they weren’t – they wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”

F/N gazed at him with a small, genuine smile. From day one, he’d found ways to pepper in comments that would help build her up. So small that you could blink and miss them, and yet meaningful all the same. He didn’t have to, just like he didn’t have to save her from the sewers, and yet he did. Maybe it was hard to see for others, but she hadn’t specialized in reading people for nothing; in his own way, he was one of the kindest people she’d ever met.

“That wasn’t what I meant though,” Levi continued, unaware of the gentle expression in her eyes as she regarded him. “Could you see yourself working with them?”

That took her slightly off-guard. Crossing her arms over her chest, F/N walked over until she was at eye level with him and she lifted both eyebrows inquisitively. “What could you possibly have in mind that includes a special ops soldier, an engineer, a medic and a spy?”

Levi met her stare directly, and F/N instantly realized that there wasn’t a shroud of doubt in his mind regarding his idea. “A squad.”

“You still feel guilty about her, don’t you?” Hange’s quiet voice snapped Levi out of his haze. Uncharacteristically, he’d allowed his mind to wander, and it appeared that his gaze had decided to remain on F/N. She was seated alongside her compatriots, listening to Joey and Anya’s animated talk patiently and occasionally pitching in to say something or to try to include Adam in the conversation.

Levi had allowed Hange to drag him to breakfast that morning, even though it wasn’t his favorite activity after his routinely sleepless nights, and as the scientist placed a number of files on the table, he began to understand why.

He sighed in reply to her question, reading some lines from the files fugitively – he’d already done it a hundred and three times. “I wouldn’t call it guilt.”

“Hmm. Then what is it?”

The Captain clicked his tongue, his features showing his internal struggle to put his thoughts into words. “We’ve dealt with spies before, but she’s different. It’s like she can snap her fingers and get inside my head – she got me thinking about why I’m so adamant about cleaning, for fuck’s sake.”

Hange couldn’t help but chuckle, despite the off-put glare she received for it. “Oh? And why are you so adamant about cleaning?”

“I don’t fucking know. I didn’t let her get that far. Maybe it would have made me turn upside down and start living like a slob instead, how should I know,” he said dryly, a shiver going down his spine even as the words came out of his mouth. He’d never given it a second thought until F/N had implied it may have something to do with his upbringing – now he couldn’t stop thinking about it. A part of him wanted to know, a part of him was terrified of it. It was infuriating.

“Well, for one, the spies we’ve dealt with before were kids who simply infiltrated our ranks. She has a different kind of training. Are you concerned she has ulterior motives?”

“She’s given me no reason to think that.”

“Ah. So that’s what it is then. You’re scared she might, but she’s too good for you to realize it,” Hange deduced. Levi didn’t give her verbal confirmation, but it wasn’t like she needed any. “You’re not used to anyone being able to figure you out – not in such a short amount of time, at least – and you’re also not used to actually being interested in what someone has to say. I’m not saying we won’t continue to monitor all of them carefully, but maybe you should give her a bit more credit?”

Levi took some time to mull over his friend’s words, and ultimately he grunted in reluctant agreement. After all, since it had been decided that all four of the Starkan renegades would come to form a cohesive unit under his command, he would have plenty of time to make sure they were all loyal to their new allegiance. He just couldn’t help but feel a nagging discomfort – unlike the others, who were fairly easy for him to understand, talking with F/N sometimes felt like he was talking to a brick wall. She was cooperative, yet she was probably more adept than even Erwin at weaseling her way out of subjects she didn’t want to discuss. The fact that she could read him so easily while it was so hard for him to understand her also didn’t help.

“Well, since all of them have been discharged now, I think it’s time to get down to business, don’t you?” Hange brought him back to the present again, munching on a slice of buttered toast. Levi hadn’t commented on it, but deep down he found it endearing that Hange had discovered a passionate infatuation with all things dairy since they’d relocated to Marley. After all, animal products had been considered a luxury for the better part of their lives.

“Right,” he agreed. They’d convened that the interrogation process could wait until the newest additions to their forces were at least mostly recovered, their files now containing only the background the four of them had provided during the past month. Levi’s eyes annoyingly rested on F/N’s file first, where it was written that the twenty-four year old had grown up in a very high-profile family of politicians and her recruitment had occurred on the same day that Victor Baal came to power. That had interrupted her superior studies, which revolved around history and politics – fitting, Levi had to admit. The details pertaining to her family and her experience in the Starkan espionage unit were still blank, while the reason for her treason was decidedly obvious.

Next, he glanced at Joey’s file. He was the oldest of five, and at twenty years of age he’d decided to use his natural caregiving skills in order to join the army and get a better salary to support the rest of his orphaned siblings. Five years later, despite a lack of superior medical education, he was deemed proficient enough to be sent on the frontlines – at the same time, however, Baal’s rise to power had prompted him to quickly make arrangements to leave the military. That proved impossible, and all he managed to do was get his family out of the country and into Marley before being caught and facing trial.

In fact, that had been the soldiers’ assignment the previous day – they’d verified the address that Joey had given them, indeed meeting four kids ranging from ten to twenty years of age living in a cramped little space. Reiner had taken it upon himself to find a better living arrangement for them, and although Joey hadn’t been allowed to visit them himself, they were toying with the idea to allow it in the foreseeable future.

Adam seemed to only open up to Hange for some reason, and he hadn’t offered much other than his initial explanation – he didn’t like talking about it, and he hated being so far away from the possibility of finding his daughters even more. He was the one Levi was most concerned about – the Captain knew he would place his own interests over theirs in a heartbeat, and that was something he needed to control carefully.

Lastly, Anya was the most straightforward story. She disagreed with everything regarding Baal’s regime, she had no immediate family to worry about and she had none of Joey’s prudent nature or F/N’s finesse. The forty year old had snapped one day, killing her teammates as well as her squad leader in plain view. Apparently – and she was quite proud of this – eight soldiers had been required to finally detain her. She’d been in the special ops, so Levi was quite glad that at least one of them possessed fighting skills of high caliber.

“Do you want to do it the same way as last time? I talk with the men and leave the ladies to you?”

“No,” Levi replied after giving it some thought. “I think we should all do it, including the brats. They’re suspicious and they’re avoiding them.”

Levi couldn’t blame them – whether from the Paradise or Marleyan side, all younger soldiers were quietly distrustful of the four Starkans. They’d all experienced betrayal, so it was only natural. The only reason they hadn’t spoken of it was their respect for their Captain and Commander, and Magath respectively. Levi knew them well enough, however (his brats, at least), and their compassion always warmed them up. They’d lost so much, but they hadn’t lost that part of themselves yet.

“Alright, then. We’ll start after breakfast.”

Magath opened the door and F/N offered Joey a warm smile as he walked out. The young man was quite obviously worn out from the experience, but his blue eyes stubbornly remained bright. He returned the gesture, patting her on the shoulder as he walked past.

“You’ll feel better at the end,” he tried to encourage her. F/N didn’t quite believe it would be so, but she appreciated his words regardless.

She was the last to walk into the spacious office, and by this time it was already late afternoon. Embarrassingly, her stomach had begun singing with hunger – it was ridiculous, how her appetite had soared in the past days. She hoped her guts wouldn’t holler during the following ordeal, but then again F/N guessed she had bigger things to worry about.

She couldn’t hide or escape anymore – she’d have to talk. And no matter how much time she spent steeling herself outside that door, she knew how badly her vulnerability was going to affect her.

Although she knew better than to think it would be of any help, F/N straightened her shoulders and held her head up high as she took her seat, gazing at the faces surrounding her. They ranged from conflicted to disheartened to downright bored, if the blonde girl sitting cross legged on the windowsill was any indication.

F/N opened her mouth to say something that, for her own sake, would lighten the atmosphere and alleviate those heavy stares, but her stomach beat her to it by releasing the loudest growl she had ever heard coming out of her own damn self. She turned crimson.

Connie was the first to burst into laughter, followed by Jean, Hange, Reiner, and soon enough most inhabitants of the room were at the very least turning away to hide a smile, like Levi was.

“Me too,” said Annie, and even though she was dead serious, her inference only amplified the general hilarity. Connie sent her a sly look.

“What’s that, Annie? You want some pie?”

“Sorry, Annie,” added Reiner, despite the murderously sour expression on her face. “I seem to remember you’ve already eaten all the pie on the continent.”

“…Do we have pie or not?” F/N found it an appropriate time to pitch in, causing them to burst into laughter all over again because she wasn’t even aware of the inside joke.

“Alright, alright,” Magath waved his hands. “We’ll resume this after dinner.”

Walking into the mess hall, F/N was a bit disappointed that her compatriots weren’t there. She could understand they may all need time to themselves right then, but she wasn’t momentarily sure where to take a seat after getting her potato stew and leftover slice of cake from the day before. Her eyes searched for Levi, but found Jean’s waving hand instead.

Accepting the invitation with a small smile, she sat next to him and facing Mikasa. Out of all of them, she was the least talkative, and F/N couldn’t pretend that she didn’t know why. She had yet to reveal it, but she’d been obliged to study information pertaining to all of them.

“Thanks for the cue back there, we were all starving,” was Jean’s opening line, to which F/N released a soft snort.

“I can’t take credit. I’ve been hungry nonstop recently,” she admitted in Eldian, momentarily shocking them. They shared a few glances and visibly, albeit unconsciously relaxed, making F/N smile to herself – people always underestimated the power of language and how speaking one’s mother tongue could make them feel at home.

“I used to know someone like that,” Connie chuckled lightly, though the mirth didn’t reach his eyes. Instead, he gazed at the food wistfully. “Potato stew and chocolate cake… Sasha would have loved this.”

Their eyes all drooped with heartache and yet they smiled, as if they didn’t know which emotion was stronger – their grief or their affection for whomever they were remembering. Mikasa hummed, bringing a spoonful of cake to her lips.

“Sasha would have needed to be tied up over this.”

Her comment prompted a series of mild, approbatory chuckles to commence around the table, after which Armin leaned back and sighed.

“It’s so strange, isn’t it? Not long ago, all the people in this hall were on opposite sides of the battlefield, killing each other and those dear to them. Now we’re laughing together and eating the same food. I’m… still not used to it, if I’m honest.”

No one had a reply at the ready for him, so F/N sighed. “I know it probably won’t help, but it’s better food than anything in Starke.”

Her change of subject seemed to be a welcome one, for their eyes rested on her with interest.

“Oh, really? Somehow I expected everything to be better there,” Jean stated, not without bitterness in his tone.

F/N hummed negatively. “No. Not anymore, at least. Food isn’t viewed as something to be enjoyed or something to bond over. You have a strict plan made according to your body and what it is expected to achieve, and if that plan entails eating a piece of beef with porridge, then you’re eating a piece of beef with porridge.”

“Not anymore?” Armin questioned, always perceptive. “You mean since Victor Baal came to power?”

“Right. Things used to be very different, as I’m sure you’ve been told.”

They had been, and still there was curiosity lingering in their eyes. Connie opened his mouth to ask a question, however he was cut short by Levi appearing beside them.

“Come on, brats. We don’t have all day.”

F/N raised a brow at him. “Am I a brat, too?” she asked, just for the sake of it, because she was about to experience an unpleasant range of emotions soon enough and at least right then she still retained her sense of humor.

“You’re a pain in my ass,” was his deadpan, obviously sarcastic answer. She couldn’t help but grin, despite the looks she received for it – his sense of humor was crude, dry, but somehow it got the job done.

That small instance of relief was, however, short lived. Soon enough, she was back in the chair and there was no delaying it anymore.

The first question reached her ears, and she had no choice but to speak.

[reinarandraw]

The Herald Descends

I wanted to practice writing something fun so I thought writing a small ficlet for my villain ironstrange au would be neat. Exploring how they first met each other sounds cool. And then things got out of hand and I don’t think I have the energy to finish it, well not in the near future. But I kinda like the 1st part of the fic so I guess it won’t hurt to post it here.

So, enjoy. 

Title: The Herald Descends Words: 1,491 Summary: In the beginning, there was darkness. In the end, the darkness awaited. Stephen Strange would make sure Earth would finally fall into his master’s hand.

In the beginning, there was darkness. The universe was formless and empty. There was no sign of life anywhere nor the smell of death and decay. There was simply nothing. Just never-ending darkness. Just a bottomless void of nothingness.

But then the light appeared and it brought life.

Stephen used to think that life was all that matter. He became a doctor to preserve life and to save people. Even when his heart turned cold and he let his ego dictated his move, he still clung to that ideology. Do no harm. He was not a fan of violence after all.

But one life meant nothing in this multiverse. People died every day and yet everything went on. The Ancient One told him, death is what gives life meaning. Stephen wondered how come she could be so close-minded. She had seen the vast multiverse, she had lived for more than a hundred year, she was the Sorcerer Supreme. And yet she still thought like a mere mortal. 

Neither life nor death mattered. Why should it matter? Every beginning had its ending. Great civilizations fell and left forgotten. Planets explored and gone forever. We were nothing but dust in this multiverse. Our life was too short and insignificant. Nothing mattered. In the end, everything would come back to the darkness.

In the beginning, there was darkness. It the end, the darkness awaited.

“Mercy, please have mercy…”

The man before him croaked. Stephen looked down at him. His skin was marred with blood everywhere. Stephen knelt beside him so he could get a better look. A short gasp escaped the man’s lips as Stephen’s leaned closer, eyes blown wide with terror. Up close, Stephen could see every line on the man’s face, some spoke of his age and some of his agony. This man had minutes left to live, sooner even. He was the one who called himself the good shaman. He brought magic to this little town. He saw himself as a healer and disregarding the dangers he invited by tampering with powers beyond his comprehension. It was the one that drew Stephen’s master to this town. This town flourished with magic. How poetic it was to end it with magic.

“Please…” he whined, his voice breaking, “have mercy! I beg you!”

Stephen looked at his surroundings. Only debris and destruction remained of this small town. Stephen didn’t give them any chance to fight. With waves of his hands, Stephen unfolded reality and destroyed everything in his sight. Buildings collapsed and buried people inside them. Roads bent and trapped cars in their twist. The local polices tried to subdue him with pistols but no bullet managed to graze him. The town was too far to attract attention so no help was coming. Not soon enough at least.

“What do you want?! Why are you doing this?” The man asked. Tears fell from his eyes, leaving wet trails on his bruised cheeks.

Stephen touched the man’s cheek, feeling him whimpered under his touch.

“Please don’t kill me…” he begged.

“I won’t, don’t worry,” Stephen promised. For a fleeting moment, Stephen saw hope flashed in his eyes. It soon died when he heard Stephen’s scoff. “I need someone to spread the news.”

“What news?”

The man shrieked in terror when Stephen let magic to levitate him from the ground. Stephen got up on his feet then walked to the center of the town with the shaman floating behind him. Once he was in the position, he turned to address the man.

“Listen to me,” he began, “you’re going to witness something and I’d like you to tell everyone. Can you do that for me?”

The man was only able to let out a pathetic whimper.

Stephen smiled and somehow it only made the man whimper even louder. How pathetic. He turned his back against him. He felt a surge of energy burst in his system as he opened his connection to The Dark Dimension. His hands then moved to form complicated hand gestures to cast his spell. Soon, he could feel raw power flowing in his vein. So much power, it burned him from within.

It hurt, oh did it hurt. The power set his nerves ablazed and strained his muscles. Mortal body was not meant to wield this power. But thankfully, Stephen was not a mere mortal anymore.

“Let the darkness descend upon this town!” And with that, he released hell.

The ground shook violently below his feet. Stephen could hear the shaman screamed but his cry was drowned by the cracking sound of thunders. Dark purple clouds covering the night sky above them, forming a temporary portal to The Dark Dimension. Stephen smiled at the magnificent sight, a glimpse of the different sky he called home. The air was thrumming with primordial magic. Stephen watched in silent satisfaction as bodies on the ground crumbled to scorched husks. They flew to the sky, towards his master.

“That’s… That’s The Dark Dimension!” The shaman’s words made him turn his attention back to the pathetic wailing man.

“Oh, you’re more than a blabbering idiot,” Stephen commented. “I don’t need to recite my evil monologue. What a shame.”

"You...” the shaman gaped at him. “How...?”

“But what you know about The Dark Dimension is probably wrong. There’s so much misconception about it, especially about my master. Maybe I should start writing a book. Book of Strange has a nice ring on it, doesn’t it?”

“You served him!” The shaman spat the words like it was an insult. Stephen resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“Wow, what gave it away? The fact I just banished the whole population of this pitiful town to The Dark Dimension or my creepy eyes?”

Stephen then grasped the man’s lower face in one hand, his nails digging right to his cheeks. He could feel the man’s scream behind his palm.

“Sshh, there’s no need to struggle.” He brought his other hand to the man’s forehead. “I promise I won’t kill you, remember?” A spark of purple fire ignited from his fingertips.

The shaman’s eyes went wide. The purple light looked so beautiful when it was reflected in his black eyes.

“It’s going to be ok,” Stephen tried to reassure him. “Trust me. I used to be a surgeon.”

And with that, he carved a symbol to the man’s skin. A warning to the world, especially those at Kamar-Taj. His master’s symbol.

Dormammu.

Stephen admired his handiwork with a small smile. He leaned forward toward the shaman and said, “Tell everyone you see, darkness will come to you all soon. He will come and there’s nothing you can do to stop him.’”

He didn’t need a sling ring and a hand gesture to open a portal. It was for dumb sorcerers who had no idea how to manipulate space and time continuum. Stephen learned so much from his master. A circle of purple spark materialized just behind the shaman. Stephen could see the street of New York on the other side of the portal.

“What are you-“

“Bye.” Stephen used his magic to launch the shaman towards the portal and then closed it.

Stephen noticed that purple clouds were starting to dissipate. A minute passed in somber silence until the connection to The Dark Dimension was finally closed. Stephen’s knees buckled and just failed to support his weight. Knowing that he was completely alone, he let himself fall to the ground. He was exhausted, his whole body shaking with pain. He curled up into a fetal position and closed his eyes.

It always happened after he channeled an extensive amount of energy from The Dark Dimension. A backlash from casting a large portal to Dark Dimension and banishing hundreds of people there. Stephen’s physiology might have evolved into something more than a mortal but he was not a cosmic being that was born from pure energy.

��I’m disappointed.”

His master’s voice rang loudly in his mind. Stephen’s eyes snapped open as he tried to control his labored breathing.

“You are not ready.”

“Ok, that’s not actually true.” Stephen quickly got up on his feet, ignoring how his muscles spasm painfully as he did so. “I just need more time!”

“Ah, time. The little gift you brought me when we first met.” A deep rumble echoed in his mind. It was hard to tell whether Dormammu was chuckling or grumbling. “Haven’t you spent centuries mastering the power I gave you? You dare to ask for more time?”

“I haven’t been here for a long time,” Stephen argued. “You trained me in The Dark Dimension. Things work differently here. The Sanctums are disturbing my connection to you. It’s harder for me to access your power. They protect the Earth, remember? Let me destroy the sanctums so I can have full access to you. You can even come here.”

“You are not ready,” he repeated. There was no more word for a long time. Stephen feared his master had left him, but then he continued, “Rest, my herald. There is still much work for you.”

Stephen felt like he would collapse once more but he refused to do so. Fuelled by sheer will, Stephen made a portal to his hideout. His master was right. He needed to take a rest. Earth destruction could wait.

***

I’m just going to stick with fanart for now.

[inerdmuch]

Dark Circles, The Eve

Also on my Ao3 Account!!

Idea from @do-you-promise

Pastel shades of gold edged through the curtains. Creeping warmth brought four sides to wakefulness, and the brief confusion of not being in one's own was soon overridden by the comfort of being in a bed with those you love most. Soft kisses were shared, and as the giggling rose like a cloud from the sea, a little yawn from the foot of the bed startled the four out of their little reverie. Roman peered at his brother, who calmly slid one eye open.

"Hello, twinsy dearest," murmured Remus, voice soft with the dregs of sleep. He slowly sat up. His back popped and crackled like gunshots in the near silent room. He lay back down, and they caught a glimpse of his relaxed face as he fell back to sleep.

The memories of the previous night slowly began to catch up to everyone. Deceit showing up at nine in the evening, holding Remus up as if he were Simba from the Lion King and roughly dropping him in the middle of their common room, before passing a little green book to Roman and promptly leaving. The dark side himself had not illuminated any knowledge on the situation, but had kept his usual ramblings to himself as the lights read the book.

~`|•|`~

"Do you know how long you'll be here, at least?" Snapped Roman, hands on his hips. Patton tutted at his tone, and the princely side became a little less thorny. A little.

"At most, two nights," Remus had cooed, playing with one of Logan's rubix cubes. He seemed preoccupied with making a perfect penis on each side. "He used to drop me in the subconscious for a little bit, but he stopped after seeing what it does."

Each side shuddered a tiny bit. The subconscious was filled with swirling white smoke, and definitely wasn't safe for anyone other than Remy. Suddenly, the violent swings in mood and volume made sense. The subconscious was maddening.

"Why are these lists so... Comprehensive?" Logan wondered, going over each word. "Eight minutes past six: no more puzzles. What does that mean?"

Remus shrugged, and stretched in an inhuman manner. Dislocating a shoulder and popping it back with a satisfied sigh. He began wandering about the common room, admiring it. He stroked a large potted plant, enamoured with the vibrancy of it, and with the waxy texture of the thick leaves. As he was distracted the others huddled and tried to brainstorm something to do with him.

"I'm saying it now, he's not coming to the imagination," hissed Roman. Logan nodded with Virgil: a good point. He'd get up to all sorts of terrible things there.

"He could stay in my room?" Patton whispered. At three incredulous looks, he blushed slightly in embarrassment. "Dad instinct. He needs someone understanding to be with, and though I don't agree with his ideals, I think he needs support, as any kid does!"

"First of all, he's not a kid," Virgil bristled.

"He's not staying alone, or with one of us," Logan said. "It's best if we all slept in the same room as him."

Virgil sighed heavily.

"As you know, I was a former dark side. I know Remus. He's immature, but he's intelligent. I know exactly why he's been brought here, and no," he glared at Logan and Roman here, "I can't tell you why. I'm still stuck with the restraint of the Dark Side. What happens there, stays there, no matter how much some of us wanted to speak up."

Issue unresolved, they decided to just conjure a massive bed for them to share, and a large-but-not-quite-as-large-as-theirs bed for Remus. Roman even made it green and black, as per his brother's tastes. It was an easy decision to simply keep a watch on him until he left.

Remus had long since switched on the TV and was watching Piglet's Big Adventure, a surprising choice. He hummed along to the theme, lounging on the floor, green glistening sleeves swaying in time with the dialog. He ignored the changes around him, until he felt bored enough to glance up.

"OwO?" He said, staring at it in curiosity. "What's this?"

He then decided to take a running leap and jumped into it. As the blankets billowed bountifully about him, riotous laughter was heard. Roman sighed heavily and rubbed at his eyelids. All his hard work into making those sheets neat...

"I love you Roman!" Filtered through the sounds of falling fabric. Okay. Maybe Roman could accept that.

"Kiddo?" Patton called hesitantly. Remus's head popped up in the midst of the sheets, grinning wildly. "You want anything to eat?"

"Is it wise for him to eat so close to his apparent bed time?" Muttered Logan, reading through the book still. Remus looked at him, considering, sizing him up. Virgil knew that look. He'd once worn it often. That was the look of someone who was wary.

"Give him some food, Lo. He's hungry." Remus shot him a grateful look, and Logan started to walk to the kitchen to assist Patton in making some food. "He likes usually non edible or rotten items."

"I do like dish soap and paper towels if no deodorant is to be found!" came the muffled suggestion from the smaller bed. "Whilst you're gone, the rest of us can get into a pyjama party!"

Roman sighed and snapped on his silk pyjamas. Red, button up and with a white version of his emblem, they were sophisticated. Virgil gave him a look and swished into his night clothes. A large MCR shirt and black sleep shorts. They turned to Remus, unsure what to expect-

-and found him in a white nightgown over pink sweat pants. He jumped and turned, showing them the inscription on the back of the pants. 100% Nasty. Of course.

"Wow. Your taste has literally become worse since I left," Virgil said incredulously. It was at this point that Patton and Logan returned. They had a tray with various substances, some actual food, others... Not.

"Thanks Virgie-poo!" Remus called, happily drinking washing up liquid. He took some interest in the banana he'd been offered, and bit straight into it. "I like the shell on this!"

Resigning himself to a full night of this, Logan sighed. It was drowned out by Remus's yawn. He fell back, nearly dropping the tray, and began snuffling quietly. Roman pulled the blankets over him, and dimmed the lights in that corner.

"Not even removing his makeup, no skin care routine, how is he my brother?" Muttered Roman unhappily. He busied himself with cleaning away the tray.

"How does he fall asleep so fast?" Murmured Patton. "He's so... Not loud. Look at his little sniffs!" He began cooing over the curled up Remus, dad instincts going buck wild.

"We had to fall asleep fast or not at all," Virgil said. He looked surprised that he could say they much, but shook himself out of his confused musings. "He won't wake up much now."

"Much?" Roman asked.

"Well, I don't know. I'm a pretty light sleeper, so I slept in weird places," Virgil hummed. The other sides agreed silently. Finding him in the vents was the strangest thing Patton had ever done.

"Should we get to sleep as well, then?" Hesitantly questioned Logan. Met with nothing but hesitant agreements, he slipped into the bigger bed. As the others followed, settling into their favoured positions, tucked under and clasping at each other, he felt slight worry as he fell asleep.

Morning would come soon, and he had many, many questions.

~~~

It was nearing two in the morning, if the clock was anything to go by. All was still, all was silent, except that it wasn't. In a black and green bed, someone stirred, groaning unhappily through parted lips and slowly opening his eyes. Remus shivered, cold. His bed was big and empty, and he was only kept company by the breath of the Lights in the bed across from him.

He knew he was the impulsive one, so it didn't surprise him that he was moving before he even thought. He curled up at the foot of the bed, pushing legs aside and wrapping his limbs about himself protectively. There were some disgruntled noises from the still sleeping Lights. It was warmer there.

Remus went back to sleep.