#anyways. work in progress. I need to build it back up somehow.

[asinglesock]

I know the joke is that you always say you want to do something instead of going and doing it but it's really not that funny anymore

[dduane]

Hi DD! I'm about mid-way through the most complex writing project I've ever done (several stories with some red thread storylines progressing in the background, so a sort of interwoven structure). I have an outline of the major plot beats, but the problem is, I've gotten about 2/3 of the way through, and this is where I've started to have trouble bringing my many threads together. The further I go, the the harder keeping it all clear and elegant becomes. Any advice for working at this stage?

It may seem counterintuitive, but once I'd found myself in a situation like this, I would immediately start working backwards.

It's difficult to describe what I mean here except semi-graphically—sort of in terms of one of those strings-pinned-to-the-wall diagrams so familiar to a lot of us from the various evidence-wall memes.

If we're imagining your present as-yet-unconnected threads as more or less progressing left to right, I would "stick pins in them" at their current furthest range and then move straight out to the far right side of the diagram.

For each thread I would then get busy establishing a detailed "end state" for the work: meaning a sense of what you want each of those through-line of plot to look like when you're done in terms of characters, situations, etc. I'd make very sure that all the major through-lines were covered, and (in passing) take a long look at how they'll stand in relationship to one another when all the action's finished.

Then I would start working back along each line toward the center of the matrix—looking to see what the next-to-last thing was that needed to happen to produce the final result on a given through-line. And then the third-to-last. ...And so forth.

I would try to work through the whole set of through-lines for each given step or stage before progressing any further backwards—unless, of course, some leap of logic occurs that makes an obvious connection between two different through-lines, or an earlier stage in the same TL that hadn't been obvious before.

(Is this making sense? God, I hope so.)

My experience with this kind of situation in the past is that it doesn't take too long before, on one or two of the lines you're constructing backwards, you'll hit something fairly major that somehow hadn't come up for consideration previously, or had simply slipped or fallen off the structural "radar" because so much other stuff had been going on around it. That event or piece of data, once perceived, will very often either immediately connect itself back to one or more of the "pinned" through-lines, or promote one of the other incomplete ones into growing connections to other adjacent lines of plot material. It's a little like watching neural tissue developing alternate pathways for itself after an injury.

...Anyway, give this approach a shot and see how it works for you. There are times when simply the act of reversing direction on the plot build will shake something loose in the business surrounding the building-it-forward part. It's worth a try to see what happens.

Hope this helps!

[ur-fav-slushy]

!boyfriendhamzah headcannons

just some thoughts i have about hamzah if he was your fine shyt🤪

•hamzah drives. license or not he is your CHAUFFEUR. he likes to pretend to complain when you ask him to pick you up from work(like boy do your job!) but ofc he’s sitting there right when he needs to be because even tho he is CHRONICALLY LATE to everything he loves seeing your smiley face when you see his car.

“thought you said you weren’t gonna pick me up today?” you tease him while putting your seatbelt on. “i don’t recall ever saying that.” “you said it right after i told you i didn’t have time to shower with you this morning.” “nah i think that must’ve been your other boyfriend.”

•pda isn’t really his thing but when yall are alone? trust his hands are glued to some part of your body. elevator rides = drive by make out sessions like AS SOON as any door closes and yall are left to yourselves his face is an inch away from yours.

you both enter the elevator of your apartment building while talking about your days to each other. “-and then he didn’t even say thank you?! like who the hell shit in his cereal, anyways i jus-” just as the doors close hamzah puts his hand on your face and leans in to mold your lips against his. the kiss progresses further while you move between floors to the point where your both gripping on to each other when suddenly: ding! he pulls away when the doors open and just starts strolling away to his car. mf doesn’t even let you finish your story.

•he says he’s not jealous of the attention you give red and blue but as soon as he sees you chilling with red in your lap on the couch he’s gettting all up in your space wanting to know where his hug at🙄🙄

“what are you watching?” he asks from the kitchen while you sit on his couch with red purring against your hand as you pet him. “love on the spectrum! are you gonna come watch with us?” “us?” he asks as he rounds the corner and sees exactly who else your talking about. “red. go find blue.” he tries to shoo red when you stop him “no. he can sit here with us.” “he can sit next to us.” he reaches for red AGAIN when you swat him away and tell him he’s jealous to which he denies the claim and pouts as he sits next to you.

…somehow throughout watching the episode you guys end up with you spooning him as he cuddles red.(i am firm believer in big boys getting their fair share of little spoon time😤)

•he gets SO distracted when you come to the office, especially when it’s time for him record a podcast or some other form of content. in the podcast videos if you’re really paying attention enough you can see him look off to the same direction over and over again that the fans are starting to suspect he might be looking at SOMEONE instead of just something.

you can overhear martin telling a really funny story from where your sitting and when you look up from your phone to see what hamzahs reaction was to the story you find him already staring in your direction. you lock eyes and he smiles, you gesture for him to listen to martin and hamzah brings his focus back to the podcast but he can’t help but think about how gorgeous you look just sitting all pretty. just for him.

thank you for reading! this was my first time writing for hamzah and if you like what you read PLZ LET ME KNOW BECAUSE I HAVE SO MANY MORE HEADCANNONS FOR HIM!!!! ANYWAYS LOVE YOU FELLOW SLUSHIES MWAH😚💋

[toxicrelief]

Crawling Back to You

Chapter seventeen

Synopsis: You, Rex, and Bulletproof are working as a private security detail for a high-end donor’s Gala. Your job is to blend in and mingle, which is hard to do when you want nothing more than to stay near Rex the whole evening.

Pairing: Rex x F!Reader

Word Count: 6k

Chapter: 17/?

Masterlist of all Chapters

TW: None, but the tension is crazy, eat up

Note: Kind of includes an OC like character, so warning for that? No one in the canon universe fit the need for the part so I just made up someone. Sorry if you hate added noncanon characters, I needed someone to be the donor in order to progress this part of the story. This chapter (plus part two of it) is also extremely self-indulgent so I hope you enjoy anyways!

“You think if all the Guardians pooled their money together, we could afford a place like that?” Bulletproof stepped out in front of you and Rex.

“I didn’t even think anything could be that big.” You stated, feeling mildly overwhelmed by the looming estate before you.

“I can think of something-” Rex snickered and then seemed to immediately regret it. “Sorry-”

“Do we just…walk up?” You continued, ignoring Rex, taking a cautious step forward.

“I thought we were arriving early, why are there so many planes already here?” Bulletproof commented, looking back at the large array that lined up with the Guardian’s jet.

“You guys are thinking way too critically about this, I came to party, and that’s what I’m going to do.” Rex, walks ahead of both of you, holding his hands intertwined behind his head.

“We’re here to work, Rex.” You reminded him in a dry tone, but even for you, the anticipation was rising.

To call the estate before you a house, would be a falsehood, to call it a mansion still felt untrue, but closer. It was practically a castle. High-reaching spires jutted out towards the heavens, accented perfectly by the pink tone of an oncoming sunset. Various chimneys contrasted against the sharp peaks with their rectangular structure. As you got closer you could somehow clearly see where the land stopped, and the backyard began. There were various stone walkways, surrounded by meticulously upkept greenery. A fountain laid dead center, although to call it simply a fountain also felt like it was falling short. It was more like a pond, or a small lake, with marble enclosing its sides. A stone pillar in the center served as a base for a small waterfall. Upon approach you could feel the cool spray against your skin.

The backdoor was formed of overexaggerated double wooden doors, pushed further into the dark outer stone wall. There was a covered walkway against the house, vines trailed down from the columns and covered the archways. You figured it was a stylistic choice rather than the owner letting them grow due to lack of care. The whole area was far too well-upkept for it to have been missed. You imagined what they might look like in season and wondered if they would bloom or not. Either way, the whole place was breathtaking.

The large arched windows revealed bright but still soft, yellow lighting from inside. From just a few yards out you could see the busy bustle from inside, all the people within your view wearing identical black suits. Caterers.

“This place is insane.” You whispered, not meant for either of your companions. Stopping, you looked back to take the garden in, as well as the land that spread out for miles. Further off behind the makeshift aircraft hangar, you could make out trees. You did a small spin looking around as far as you could before your vision was stopped by the walls of the building. This entire area was closed off by a forest.

You wanted to laugh, giggle, do something. You couldn’t really believe where you were, well, you didn’t really know where you were to begin with. But to you, it felt like you had walked into a storybook. Any twisting feeling you had felt on the journey here was completely gone and replaced by the buzz of excitement.

After doing another semi-spin to look at it all again you realized Rex was standing quietly, his hands shoved into his pant pockets, staring at you. Clearing your throat you dropped your shit-eating grin and walked forward a few paces, leaving him behind. You didn’t need his negativity ruining this for you. Even as you walked up to the back entrance there was an extra pep in your step.

“Do we knock-?” Zandale’s question was cut off by heavy creaking as the large double doors began to shift on their hinges. It took a few seconds longer than necessary, which made you shoot a small chuckle in Rex’s direction, snickering at the over-the-top feeling of it all.

A single man stood in the center of the doorway. He was wearing a tuxedo, with a dark bowtie, his features seemingly stuck in a look of displeasure.

A moment.

“So-” Rex starts.

“Dr. Mune wishes to meet with you all before guests arrive, please, follow me.” He did not wait, quickly taking off at a pace that felt a lot like running to you. He did not seem to share in your breathless sentiment, easily spouting out facts about different art pieces you passed as if he were giving a tour. Every room you walked through, or rather sprinted through, seemed to have more and more luxurious décor. Complex lighting fixtures both on the wall and in the form of chandeliers, pearlescent columns, and waxed floors. You tried to take as many mental notes as possible to add to your persistent country home daydream. Although, granite columns might be going a little overboard.

“God, this place is a little…” Rex whispered from next to you. He looked far less pleased than you felt. In fact, he even looked a little sour, a firm scowl displayed across his features.

Before you could quietly question him on it the man who had been leading you all slid gracefully to a stop. You did this less gracefully, not expecting it and jerking back a few feet. As fancy as your dress was, you still had the mannerisms of someone more…normal? Is that the way to put it?

It was hard to think that all of this could be viewed as normal for anyone.

“Dr. Mune, your Guardians are here.”

Cheesy. But you were grinning like an idiot anyway. This was already better than any stakeout you had ever experienced the misfortune of being bored out of your mind on.

A woman, tall but well filled out stood next to two workers. She was wearing half-moon spectacles, a pearl-encrusted chain connecting them down to her neck. There was a general no-nonsense air to her. A tweed skirt reached down to her knees, which was met by a pair of black tights. She was wearing a matching jacket with a white flowy blouse underneath. One of the workers uttered a few hushed tones to her, which she responded to with the same frequency. Her maroon-lined lips formed around every syllable. With a nod, the two workers left and she turned her attention to your group.

“Ah, the guests of honor.” She smiles; the action accentuating wrinkles across her face. She couldn’t be much younger than Cecil. However, unlike Cecil, she still had luxurious hair, black with only a few white streaks accenting through it.

The three of you were not the most competent when it came to introductions, but luckily the man who had led you spoke first. “I have given them the tour-” It took you maybe three minutes to reach where you were now, how would that be a proper tour? “And I told Lance to prepare the earpieces.”

“Oh, we’ve already got some.” You start, taking an apprehensive step forward.

“We’ve got jammers placed out all over.” The woman speaks. “You won’t be able to reach each other. My security team has some, that way you can keep them up to date as the night moves forward, yes?”

“If you have a security detail already, why do you need us?” Rex scoffs out. It’s a valid question, but the brash execution has you cringing.

She doesn’t falter in her smile or demeanor. “Because, Mr. Sloane, threats of this magnitude don’t always end well under the careful watch of the everyday man, do they?”

Mr. Sloane? You turn slowly to look at him. His jaw is clenched, but he doesn’t say anything else.

“Why are you getting threats?” Bulletproof asked, folding his arms.

“Were you not all briefed in some capacity?" She straightens out her jacket, moving forward towards the small semicircle of people in front of her. “I am not very well-liked by a multitude of crowds. Although-” She turns her attention to the man who had brought you. “Who has the largest price on my head right now?”

“That would be Mister Liu, ma’am.”

“He still upset about that?” She laughed but did not divulge what she was laughing about. “My point is, it could be anyone or anything. Liu doesn’t think it is worth wasting his own time, but he sends assassins now and again.” She flutters her hand like she’s discussing the afternoon weather. “You don’t have to watch me specifically, as I said I have my own detail. However, our most recent threat was remarked as…What was it again, Gareth?”

“I believe they claimed that they would ‘scar the earth so heavily that no one could build in the same area for two thousand years’, ma’am.”

“Ah, yes.”

You paused, deciding if it would be appropriate for you to speak. A glancing over at Rex provides you with no help or comfort in the answer as he was still staring forward with an unpleasant expression. “Excuse me, Dr. Mune-”

“Mune is fine.”

“Mune,” You repeat, “If you are receiving threats like this, should you really be throwing an event like this? Isn’t it kind of…tempting fate?”

She blinks a few times at you, and you feel like the floor is being pulled out from under you.

“My dear, if I heeded every threat nothing would ever get done. This one isn’t half as colorful as the ones I usually receive, but,” She sighs, folding her hands, “I received word of movement that concerns me, so I would rather be cautious.”

“How would you like us to start?”

She explains her estate in detail, promising an escort will show your way to each place once she is done. Throughout she seems exceedingly sure that nothing will happen, which puts you less at ease every time she says it. At the end of her presentation, she tells the three of you to ‘enjoy yourselves’. Rex scoffs but doesn’t say anything else.

“Gareth will take you to get your earpieces and meet the team. I’d like you to stay behind if you please.” You looked up and she was gesturing towards you. Ah, crap.

“We should all stick together-” Rex starts, taking an almost indistinguishable sidestep towards you.

“I don’t bite, Mr. Sloane. And if you wish to indeed, blend, you shouldn’t all stick together, yes?” Her smile remains unwavering, as she ushers him away.

You give him a shrug taking a few steps towards her, when a hand grabs your wrist. Glancing back, you give him an odd look, mouthing a small ‘what?’.

He doesn’t say anything but imperceptibly shakes his head. Now what the hell are you supposed to do with that? This is a job, a duty, you can’t just tell your employer ‘No, I won’t stay behind to discuss anything with you’.

“I’ll catch up.” You reassure, but his reaction was doing nothing to calm any of your nerves.

His eyes almost seem to darken a shade but he just nods, slipping your wrist from his grip and following close behind Zandale and Gareth who were already a good yard or two away.

“Cecil has talked about you.” Dr. Mune starts, turning to a worker who walked up with a book of some sort. She didn’t seem interested in addressing Rex’s hesitation.

“Yeah? Hopefully okay things.”

“Okay is putting it mildly.” She chuckles, before shaking her head at the worker and then turns her full attention to you. “You’re the poster child for everything Cecil wants in a hero. Obedience, self-sufficiency, discretion.” She takes off her glasses, letting them hang down around her neck. “He couldn’t have made a better soldier if he crafted one himself.”

You hummed, not sure exactly what to say to this. Part of you was pleased that Cecil spoke well of you or even spoke of you at all. The other part was concerned as to where this was headed.

“I like you.” She affirms, glancing up and down your figure. “I think we’ll get along just fine.” She holds out her arm for you to take, which you realize after staring at her for a few moments. “You shall be my Merlin.”

What on earth is this woman on about? “Merlin? As in King Arthur?” You ask it with a polite scoff in the way you appease someone who just spoke utter nonsense to you.

“That’s right.” She pats your arm while leading you in the direction the others went. “I took an interest in the Arthurian legend a few decades ago. Security humors me and it pleases me to see everyone fit into their roles.”

“And you think I would be the Merlin in your story?”

“Yes.” She says it like it was a ridiculous question. Maybe the papers Donald gave you all should have mentioned she was about two days away from madness. “Mr. Randolph strikes me as a Bedivere, do you agree?”

“I can’t say I know exactly who that is, Mune.”

She sighs dramatically. “No one ever realizes my true genius.”

“You worked a lot in the body enhancement side of the GDA, didn’t you?” The question slips past your lips the moment there is a lull in conversation.

“I suppose, I don’t work in it anymore, but I hear they still use my blueprints. Or at least I get the royalty check every month in the mail.” She laughs off-handedly. It feels like you have both been walking for ages, passing door after door, the sound of your individual shoes clicking against the floors.

“How long did you work there?”

“Longer than you’ve been alive. I worked there when I was still young, full of life, you know the sob story.” She pauses in her step. “The GDA hasn’t always been the place it is now.”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t get genetically modified superheroes without casualties.” Dr. Mune continues walking, pulling you with her. “How is Mr. Sloane doing?”

The question takes you off guard. “Oh, Rex?” She nods and you continue, “Pretty good I’d say? He’s excellent at what he does.”

“Oh, I know.” The first true sense of distaste flows off of her. “He always was.” Between this and Rex grabbing your arm earlier, you were questioning what their history was. “He’s a Gawain.” She states suddenly before the two of you pull up to the final door. She let go of your arm and gestured for you to go inside. “My Lancelot will tell you everything you need to know. I do hope you are able to enjoy your evening.” She says your last name, a small twinkle in her eye that made you wonder for a moment if she planted a bomb herself just for her own entertainment.

“Lancelot?” You ask, quirking your brow up slightly.

“It’s cute, right?” She smiles, more to herself than to you, before turning to leave you there.

“But Lancelot betrays Arthur.” You cock your head, and she slows to a stop, a smile still spread across her wrinkled features.

“Good thing I’m not Arthur.”

“Then who are you?”

“Excalibur.”

--

You couldn’t quite decide how you felt about her. She was odd, but she was sure of herself. After so many years and so many accomplishments maybe you would be too. A part of you liked her, the idea of her interacting with Cecil was one that intrigued you deeply. But you were put off on behalf of Rex. He obviously didn’t trust her, and she even conceded to them having some kind of history. Alongside keeping an eye out for anything suspicious, you were also determined to figure out who Mune thought Arthur was.

People began to arrive while Lance, affectionately called Lancelot by Dr. Mune, familiarizes you all with the equipment. He was very no-nonsense, speaking in as brief of statements as he could. Once he felt confident that the three of you were set, he had Gareth come back and take you all to the ballroom, while repeating one last time to notify him if any of you saw anything.

The ballroom was just as meticulously decorated as every other room you had seen so far. Gold plated chandeliers hung from a ceiling painted with a beautiful mural. A night sky with ancient figures all wearing roman attire. The floor itself was wooden, waxed over with something to protect it from spills. A stage sat towards the front, where artists and their instruments were gathered. Tables of varying sizes speckled the area, and there was a bar at each side of the room for refreshments.

The expansive area filled quickly, people from all walks of life, all well dressed in the most obnoxious way. Even still, you could feel your excitement returning. The three of you had decided to stay together for the first few minutes, then slowly peel off into the other parts of the ballroom. Zandale had already made his way over to the bar, speaking with an older man in a suit that looked like it cost more than a year’s rent.

“So,” You looked over at Rex, who had been suspiciously quiet since you rejoined the group. “What’s the deal with you and Mune?”

“There’s no deal.” He says shortly, then sucks his teeth and continues. “She worked at the GDA when I was a kid, I’ve met her a few times.”

“That was a pretty strong reaction for just a few times.” You say it softly, your eyes scanning the room behind him. You doubted that anything would happen this early in the evening, but you still wanted to keep an eye out.

“Well, it wasn’t exactly the happiest point in my life.” Rex grits out, his gaze following the other side of the room behind you.

“Is she not trustworthy?” You wait a moment, but when he doesn’t answer you poke his arm. “Rex, this is serious. We’ve got to get through this job, I need to know if I should be watching her as well as everyone else.”

He rubs his arm absentmindedly where you had poked him. “She’s trustworthy.” He concedes begrudgingly. “She’s practically Cecil in a different fucking font.”

“I don’t mind Cecil.” You mutter, returning to look at a couple that walked through the doors.

“I don’t mind Cecil either, but I don’t doubt that he’d sacrifice anyone of us if he thought it was for the greater good.”

“It’s the job.” You respond simply, but you know he’s probably right. “Hey, by the way, did you know apparently that you are ‘Sir Gawain?’ to Mune?” You raise a brow with a soft smirk.

“She’s still doing that shit?” He sighed. “At least I’m not Mordred anymore. When I was younger, she sat me down to tell me exactly why that was who I was. Not great to hear one of the more prominent adult figures in your life compare you to the bad guy of a kid’s fairytale.”

“I thought Morgana was the bad guy?”

“She is too, but Mordred kills Arthur so- ah shit I don’t even know.” He raps his fingers against the cocktail table the two of you are standing at.

“We’re you a troublesome kid of something? Kill any kings?” You laugh, but your smile falters slightly when Rex does not.

“Uh-”

Are you two going to split up or stand there talking away all evening?

Bulletproof’s voice sounded out over the comms, interrupting Rex before he could finish. He puts a hand to his temple and stays standing next to you for a moment, his fingers still tapping on the table.

“See you soon?” You finally say, giving him a small smile.

He looks at you and blinks a few times before curtly nodding and heading in towards a group stationed behind you.

“Shit.” You whisper to yourself, looking down at your hands as they spread across the dark tablecloth. A glance back to the bar shows Zandale still chatting with the elderly man, but you catch how his gaze flits across the room every few seconds.

“Hello.” An unfamiliar voice fills the space around your table from where Rex had just been standing. A man, most likely in his early to mid-thirties stood before you. He was wearing a light grey suit, with a black bowtie.

“Hi.” You say, giving him a polite smile, glancing behind him to keep an eye on the door.

“Are you waiting for someone?”

“No, just people watching.”

“You came to a house of this magnitude and you people watch? You could do that anywhere.” He grins.

“Well, maybe I like to look at all the ridiculous outfits.” Low risk, high reward, He either agrees with you and it’s fine, or he disagrees and leaves you alone.

“You definitely won’t find a shortage of that here. For a gala that is supposed to have dancing, there is a surprising lack of ballgowns.”

“Did you leave yours at home?” You glanced back to where Rex had been, his back was to you as he talked to a tall slender woman with a fur coat. You wanted to know more about his experience with Mune, you were practically counting down the minutes until it would be appropriate to walk over to him again. The woman laughed and you felt yourself stand up a little straighter, what were they talking about? It couldn’t be that funny. You practically felt your mood sour at the sight, turning back to the guy who had welcomed himself to your table.

“Touche.” He says, picking up his wine glass you hadn’t realized he had set down. “You’ll have to save me a dance.”

“Oh, I’m not sure I will be dancing.” You state quickly,

“Well, if you change your mind, save me one.” He lifted his glass to you and walked past you to another table where two people were standing.

You could feel your excitement fading once again. Tonight was going to be a long night if every interaction was like that. And it was going to be even longer if you kept turning to watch Rex seemingly hitting it off with everyone he talked to.

--

The evening was running without a hitch. You managed to make perfectly fine small talk with a variety of people while only conceding to a few drinks. Not that they had time to work their magic with your elevated blood processing. About forty-five minutes in, Mune entered the room, silence slowly falling over the different groups that is only broken by a few whispers.

“I hope you all donate as much as you drink up my fine wines.” The crowd laughs, but Mune seems more put out by them than actually making a joke. “The orchestra will be starting up in the next few minutes to start up the dancing, so I expect every one of you to visit the floor at least once. And if you don’t want to now, have a drink until you do.”

You would need a lot more than one drink to convince you to step out there, even if you didn’t have practically an immunity to alcohol as it was.

You nodded your goodbyes to a couple you had been talking with and spotted Bulletproof loitering around an empty cocktail table.

“Have you seen anything?” You ask in a low town as you take your place next to him.

“I mean, some idiot is definitely trying to steal a few pieces of the silverware but that’s about all the malicious intent I have seen so far.”

“It’s surprising how many of these people hate each other, and how easily they announce it to complete strangers.” You sigh, putting your hands on your hips and stretching out your back.

“You owe me so big for this shit.” Bulletproof grumbles, straightening out his tie.

“What, you’re not even having a bit of fun? You should go dance or something.” You snicker, turning so that your elbows are resting on the cocktail table behind you.

“I hate dances, I hate high society, and I’m starting to hate you.”

“Me?”

“You should have just asked Rex to join, why am I even here?” He glances at you out of the corner of his eye.

“I’m not sure what you’re trying to imply but I do actually like your company on missions Zandale.” You pause before shifting your hand in the air and adding with a smile: “Somewhat.”

“Am I wrong though? You asked me to come to bait Rex into coming didn’t you.”

“No, I asked you to come because I didn’t want to come alone, and you’re one of the only people on the team who can stand me.” You sigh heavily, giving a polite smile to someone as they walk by.

“Well, Rex-”

“Not everything is about Rex!” You say a little louder than you meant to, reaching up to pinch the bridge of your nose. “I couldn’t ask him, okay? He shouldn’t even be on the field; he was just shot in the head for Pete’s sake.”

“It’s the job.” You cringe at your words being recited back to you.

“I know.” You mutter gently. “But… I want better for him. I want better for Rae. Hell, even Kate should have had better.”

“You can’t protect him.” Zandale shrugs, but his voice is understanding. “Or any of them. We all knew the risks. Do you?”

You look up and out into the crowd, searching silently. Verdant eyes meet you during your search. He’s standing in a circle of people but angled just right so that you can see him between the shoulders of two people in front of him. You angle your head to the side to see him better between the two people. He mirrors the gesture, his lips downturned slightly before they grow into a full boyish grin. You smile back at him and then his attention is taken away from you as someone speaks to him.

“It was easier when he was mean to me.” You murmur bitterly, still watching Rex who appeared to be listening intently to what someone was saying.

“If you want, I could let him know, maybe even help him pull together another scheme to try and get you kicked out.”

“Ooh, enticing offer.”

Bulletproof looked back to where you were looking and sighed when he saw Rex. “You should go talk to him, ask him to dance, something. This thing sucks but it sucks more with your obvious ogling passing over me. I’m gonna barf.”

“I’m not ogling! I was watching someone else over there…” You feign a gasp. “Oh my god! He’s got a gun!” You look back at Zandale, “I’m working, see?”

“You both are insufferable to be around.”

“In a good way?”

“What-? No! How can you be insufferable in a good way?”

Bulletproof heads back to the bar, and you decide to look around outside. Huge double glass doors lead directly from the ballroom into the garden you had seen earlier. Attendees stand outside chatting and smoking cigarettes at several different parts of the patio area. Cocktail tables are set up sparsely all the way out and up to the fountain.

The smell of smoke and crisp night air fills your lungs, it is much cooler outside. A couple passes you, leaving an open table for you to stand at that easily surveys the area.

“I think I’ve missed my calling.” You don’t have to turn to know who it is, an uncontrollable smile crossing your face.

“Yeah?”

“I think I should have been a fucking con artist; these people love me.” Rex moves in next to you, breathing the night air in deeply. “I could do fundraisers, get ridiculous amounts of cash, and then just pocket it.”

“Let me know how that goes.” You snort, swiveling your head to face him.

“Seen anything?” It’s unnecessary, an excuse to keep talking. Even if you don’t fully believe Rae in her insistence that he shares your feelings you can recognize this from a mile away. You had said the same thing to Bulletproof earlier, but that had been to keep things light. Rex wasn’t one for small talk like that.

“Nope, Zandale saw someone stealing some silverware, but it’s been pretty calm, you?”

“Nothing as exciting as that.” He scoffs, his gaze trailing over the garden. You turn so that your back is to the table, leaning on your elbows again while watching the glittering lights from inside. Faint orchestral music can be heard from all over the garden. Couples dance, some with less grace than others, but all of them seem to be putting the most effort possible into it.

A small shiver travels up your spine at the chill of the night air. “God, a little cold out here, right?” More small talk.

Without hesitation Rex is pulling off his coat jacket. He brushed it out with his hand as if it made any difference and held it out to you.

“Oh, I’m not sure I really need-” He pulls his hand back almost imperceptibly and you let out a breath. “Okay.”

He places the coat over your shoulders after you step away from the table. It’s not horribly warm but at least it stops the breeze, Worse than the breeze is the fact that it smells like him. You hadn’t even realized you knew his smell until now, which was something you’d unpack later.

“Do you dance, Rex?” The question leaves your lips and almost instantaneously you can feel Rex tense beside you.

“No.” He responds curtly.

You just nod, not sure if you expected him to say something else. Your hands distractedly play with the edges of the tablecloth,

“Would you like to dance?”

“What? No.” You laugh awkwardly, still intently watching the pairs spin from behind the glass doors.

“I’m not asking if you want to dance, I’m asking if you would dance.” You look over at him and he had shifted, his hand outstretched to you. An actual invitation. “With me.”

“You don’t dance.” You respond softly, your gaze flickering down to his hand.

“I don’t.” He repeats, that boyish grin returning to his face. “Could I have this dance?”

You glance back to the crowd of dancers, then snap your gaze back to him. His emerald gaze is soft and nonjudgemental. You weren’t sure you even knew how to dance. You’d get out there and probably look like a fool in front of everyone. Rex would get irritated because you stepped on his foot one too many times, it was sure to be a disaster-

“You may.” The affirmation seemed to tie an invisible line between the two of you, as your hand met his. He doesn’t lead you into the ballroom though, rather he leads you down the steps into the grass. Most of the people who had left for smoke breaks had slowly trickled back inside. Besides a few stragglers, the two of you were alone.

“Afraid of the crowd?” You joke lightly, as he takes your hand and intertwined your fingers, his other hand coming to rest gently on your hip. Like he was holding it almost painstakingly away from direct contact.

“Maybe I don’t want to share.” He said it offhand as if it didn’t make your brain short-circuit. Weeks of casual conversation and visits to his hospital room, and this was the boldest thing he had said to you. It made you feel warm, fuzzy.

“Oh.” Was all you could manage. Rex took the lead, instructing you to follow his moves. “Where did you learn to dance?”

“Oh, well, I didn’t.” He says honestly. “I just watched the people inside for a long time. It’s fairly simple.”

“You were analyzing the people dancing?” You tried not to outwardly laugh, but your expression was giving you away. “Why?”

A beat of silence passes between you, and you listen to the cues of the loud orchestra rendered quieter by distance.

“I wanted to know what I was doing when we danced.” He admitted quietly, his hand on your hip twitching faintly as he finally let it rest fully against you. The feeling of his hand on you has your head spinning so much that you almost don’t register what he just admitted.

“You were planning on dancing with me?”

“Did I have much choice?”

“Yes, obviously!”

He chuckles lightly. “I’d be a fucking idiot not to take the opportunity.”

“Have you been drinking?” His hand tightens slightly against yours as you take your hand off his shoulder to pull his jacket back over your own once you start to feel it slide.

“Not much. Definitely not as much as Bulletproof, dude doesn’t seem to remember this isn’t a paid vacation.”

You scoff. “I feel bad for asking him to come, I just didn’t want to come alone.”

“Why didn’t you ask me?” The air between the two of you feels like it’s buzzing at the question, and your eyes lock with his.

“Did you want me to?”

“Yes.” His admission is quiet, whispered like it’s a secret. It makes your mouth feel dry, and your body feels even more responsive to his touch than you had thought was possible.

“I’d hoped you would come.”

“Then I guess we both got what we wanted.” A tense silence falls over the two of you as you glide across the grass, a small laugh leaving you as your heel gets caught on the uneven ground and you trip. You can hear the music winding down for the end of the dance, and both of your movements slow.

“You look…” He hesitates, biting the inside of his lip and looking away from your gaze. “You look beautiful tonight. By the way.”

“Don’t tease, I’m not an idiot.” You roll your eyes, but his words make you feel mushy, your guard dropping more by the second.

“Tease?” He cocks his head slightly, but his gaze doesn’t meet yours, it is settled further down your face. The realization sends an electric shock up your spine, into your fingertips.

He slowly looks up to your stare, his eyes half-lidded, and his pupils blown. Oh.

You open your mouth to retort, or really say anything, convinced you were imagining this. He looked down at the action, leaning in a few millimeters, but not enough to close the distance in any meaningful way. He seemed to be watching your reaction, waiting to see you react poorly, push him away, call him out. But you didn’t do any of that. You just waited, your eye darting over his face to watch every micro expression. His throat bobbed but he didn’t lean forward anymore, his brow furrowing.

“So, can I get that dance?” A voice cracks through the tension that had been building to a head, causing Rex to pull back entirely, his attention turning to the person speaking. His hand leaves your hip, but he doesn’t immediately drop your hand.

Mind racing you look up at who was maybe one of the people you would want to see least in the world right now. The man with the grey suit from earlier. He’s leaning against the archway, his arms folded over his chest. “You said I could have one if you decided to dance, and from the looks of it you just did.”

“Uh…” You run your free hand through your hair, willing your thoughts to quiet down so you can think. “Yeah, okay, just give me a moment.”

“The next song’s gonna start.” The man states, an insufferable grin spreading across his face.

You sigh and look at Rex, he looks back, his expression unreadable. Maybe you had misread the whole situation. Imagined that he might kiss you. You slid your fingers from his grasp and headed up the stairs back onto the patio area. “Thank you.” You called back to Rex, who was still standing where you left him.

Author's Note: Fun fact, the idea of Mune comes from a concept I have for a Cecil x reader one-shot. We will see if I ever write it :P

divider credit: @/ saradika

taglist: @kittymeowmrow @sketchlove @jewelwayne101 @0ut0fsweets @sugaramped @spidernuggets @sweet-cuddlebug @ohmysoultakemysoul @lapisbwub @velovicy request to be tagged for new parts!

Chapter eighteen

[masked-tornado]

All about Allen Alagona

Overview:

Basics

Allen's backstory

Allen's personality

Allen's relationships

Allen's relationship with Deuce

Allen & blot

Allen's previous life

Allen's magic

Fun facts

OFFICIAL ALLEN X DEUCE POSTS:

1 // 2 // 3

1. Basics

Allen is a Ramshackle freshman who comes from another world (¾ Italian, ¼ Japanese) and "has no magic".

He's an aspiring illustrator and musician who doesn't seem to have success no matter how hard he tries. Whenever he attempted to gain attention on the internet before, all he ever received was ignorance and hate. Nowadays, he's too scared to try again.

2. Allen's backstory

Allen is an intersex boy and was born with lower testosterone levels as well as a mostly "female" outward anatomy.

Having suffered from a genetic anxiety disorder since his childhood, Allen was never really able to enjoy things. Once he got into school, he was mostly used for his good grades and ignored otherwise.

However, things got much worse when puberty started: Allen's body was feminine and muscular at the same time, and he towered over his classmates. His resting bitch face didn't help with people finding him intimidating and scary... and soon, he was not only ignored, but actively avoided and made fun of. He got pushed around, insulted, and told that "a freak like him" could never be loved. Nobody invited him to hang out, people pretended to have crushes on him in order to fool him, and all the "friends" he ever had badmouthed him behind his back.

Allen couldn't tell anyone about how hurt he was — boys weren't supposed to cry and act all whiny, and he would prove that he was indeed a boy by being all tough.

Trying to escape from the bullying at school, Allen put all of his feelings into art instead — a thing he was told he was "gifted" at — and started sharing it on social media. However, as he watched other artists blow up and build entire fanbases, absolutely nothing happened to him; he was either ignored or insulted for his art, seemingly never being good enough to earn compliments. Combined with the fact that Allen compared himself with other artists a lot, he slowly started losing confidence in the one thing he enjoyed and thought he was skilled at.

That wasn't the only thing Allen "wasn't good enough" for. As he got older, the topics at school progressively got harder, and the model student started struggling with them a little. His grades dropped from As to As and Bs, and that was somehow already enough for his teachers to blame him. "What's wrong?", "I expected better from you" and "stop slacking" were just some of the things Allen had to hear from them. He began studying even more in an attempt to satisfy them and prove his worth to himself, but nothing seemed to work out, and instead, it all led to Allen having a burnout.

At this point, Allen started believing that he was possessed. How could one single person have so much bad luck and be hated this much solely for trying to live his life...?

...and why was he even trying when he was never good enough for anyone anyway?

It was then that Allen decided to give up on everything. His grades never satisfied his teachers no matter how well he did, so why should he work for them at all? His gentle personality was never appreciated, so why should he be kind? Fights hurt him, so why shouldn't he fight back?

Allen slowly became a delinquent. He started skipping class almost every day, finally dared to cuss, and got into lots of verbal fights with the people who formerly bullied him. Those who already feared Allen before were now absolutely terrified of him, and soon, rumors about an actual possession started spreading.

The headmaster couldn't stand watching the process of one of her most valuable honor students turning into a delinquent and eventually kicked Allen out of school for his shenanigans.

Allen knew he wouldn't attend a school ever again due to what it had done to his health, but at the same time, he was in desperate need of that graduation if he ever wanted to have a proper job. He tried to blackmail the headmaster into giving him his graduation by threatening to expose the school for how they covered bullying and even allowed teachers to be bullies, but ultimately, Allen got nothing out of it.

He had nothing but his parents now. He had no friends, no confidence, no future. He was likely possessed, doomed by the universe.

Allen lost the sparkle in his eye; he wanted nothing more than to disappear. But the thought of his parents' grief forced him to stay alive. Every day was torture and reminded Allen of how much of a failure he was, and he progressively grew angrier...

...until he started imagining himself in music videos every time he listened to songs.

That was when Allen had an idea. He couldn't be violent, so why not channel all of his hatred and wrath into lyrics and make his own music? This time, he wouldn't post anything online in a long time, instead taking things slow.

Things slowly got a little better — Allen was able to start a hormone therapy, dyed his hair, changed his overall appearance, disassociated himself from his old self, and learned to control his anger through writing and other methods he figured out for himself. However, the emptiness, anxiety and hopelessness remained, and Allen was stuck with depression.

Just the day when Allen wanted to finally buy a software to produce music with, he woke up in a coffin in a strange world...

3. Allen's personality

Allen is widely known to be friendly, lowkey, mature, calm and helpful. People admire him for his good looks and determination, and some even consider him to be perfect due to the fact that he is additionally "good at everything". He also avoids fights and more heated discussions and instead serves as a mediator most of the time, earning him a fair amount of respect at NRC.

Allen has an easy time getting along with people and, while he rarely engages in deep conversations, generally enjoys talking and spending time with others, even if he's not close to them.

The truth: this is a mask.

Allen is an extremely flawed person but skilled at hiding it. He doesn't do anything he's bad at in public, only voices reasonable opinions, uses white lies in order to not accidentally hurt people, and hides all of his mental struggles as much as possible.

Not only does the real Allen envy everyone who is in some way more successful or "better" at something than him, but he has also developed a superiority complex to cope with his insecurities. He even feels this way towards some of his friends, yet doesn't dare to speak up on it out of fear of ending up all alone again.

The real Allen writes aggressive songs, has violent thoughts, and hates himself with a burning passion. His trauma and insecurities always get the better of him, and Allen still believes that he's ugly, worthless and not deserving of love despite being one of the most popular people at NRC.

The real Allen also doesn't care about the problems of people and gets impatient extremely quickly (Deuce is an exception — Allen cares about him a lot and is patient with him — as well as other people who have genuinely earned Allen's trust). His primary motivation for helping with bigger issues around the school is to draw attention to himself and finally receive praise.

Allen's biggest fear is to be lonely, abandoned and ignored, which is why he does his best to hide all of his flaws and true opinions on people — he doesn't want to risk being disliked now that he's finally appreciated somewhere.

The only person who knows the real Allen (and who he is 100% honest to) is Deuce, who doesn't judge him at all and instead understands him.

4. Allen's relationships

5. Allen's relationship with Deuce

Ever since day one, they've been best friends who always know what the other is thinking/feeling and do almost everything together.

Having the same experiences in a mirrored way, Allen and Deuce are able to understand each other better than anyone else could and naturally help each other because of it. Allen is able to assist Deuce with studying while making sure that he doesn't overwork himself and provides him with healthy outlets for his delinquent tendencies, which helps Deuce mature and grow calmer. Instead of trying to change Deuce, Allen helps him see the good in his flaws and use them to Deuce's advantage while fully supporting his goals and making sure that Deuce doesn't lose himself. Deuce, on the other hand, simply loves and admires Allen the way he is, which helps Allen slowly accept himself more. Being around someone who's so similar to himself and genuinely supports, understands and adores him also manages to fill the void in Allen's heart at least a bit.

Due to Allen's tough vibes, determined personality, intelligence and pretty appearance, Deuce fell for him extremely quickly (it was basically love at first sight for him). Allen fell for Deuce during book 4 when he realized just how much he missed the boy. After hesitating with a confession for a long time due to how it could possibly affect their friendship, Allen and Deuce eventually start dating some time after book 7.

Before I go on an eternal ramble about these two, here are some posts from my Deuce x Allen blog explaining their relationship further:

How they help each other

Why I ship them

Relationship timeline

Facts about them

6. Allen & blot

Allen feels his body get weaker and is somewhat out of touch with it in Twisted Wonderland. At first, he isn't aware of what the reason might be, but things resolve themselves... in the worst way possible.

During every breakdown occuring after these symptoms, a part of Allen's body changes. At first, he merely cries black tears, but then his hair turns another color, followed by another body part every time... until Allen is fully convinced that his demon is slowly taking over.

These occurrences are, in fact, mini overblots building up to Allen's first proper overblot, in which he assumes the form of a demon prince with fire-based magic and massive claws.

Due to his overall physical and mental weakness as well as the fact that he's not from Twisted Wonderland, blot affects Allen extremely easily and in a different way than with mages.

But why can he accumulate blot if he's not a mage himself? Well...

7. Allen's previous life

Unbeknownst to everyone, Allen is the reincarnation of Asterope, an infamous mage from Twisted Wonderland.

Asterope was an exceptional mage said to have been blessed who had weather-based powers but couldn't fully control them due to his impulsive personality. As a result, he accidentally slaughtered a village through a tornado in a fit of rage caused by being excluded and bullied, and became a wanted criminal as a result. He ran away, assumed the identity of "Alan" and joined the Silver Owls, only to be caught when he found out about his sole friend's death and accidentally caused another tornado. Asterope then got executed, and to this day, he's known as nothing but a villain.

Nobody is aware that Allen is Asterope's reincarnation and supposed to fix his legacy until Allen dies after being stabbed during a friend's overblot. A storm is raging outside the school during the entirety of Allen being in a critical state and eventually dying. While his body is already dead, Allen's mind intensely relives the moments from both his current life and the one he had as Asterope. Ironically, his strong blot accumulation and Asterope's desire for wanting his legacy to be fixed through his "successor" eventually bring Allen back to life, leaving him with mere permanent tattoos... and the ability to use magic.

Shortly before Allen awakens, Asterope speaks through him, talking about his legacy. Later on, Allen and his friends do their best to figure out what exactly happened.

8. Allen's magic

Allen has fairly little control over his everyday magic due to both his mood swings and the fact that he's entirely new to this kind of thing. However, he is eager to learn and improve so he can hopefully reach an average skill level.

On the other hand, Allen's Unique Magic is incredibly powerful and can only be countered by the strongest of mages when they're concentrated. "The Calm Before the Storm" traps a being in a tornado that drains them of all their physical and mental energy, often causing the person in question to pass out. It can be used on living creatures from all worlds.

Fun fact: Allen discovers his Unique Magic before he can use normal magic at all.

9. Fun facts

Allen is three days older than Ace.

Allen is good with animals and children.

Allen's natural hair color is black.

Allen is considered to be one of the prettiest people at NRC, but isn't aware of this.

Allen collects plushies and Deuce gifts them to him regularly.

Allen loves Shiba Inus.

Allen likes motorcycles and blastcycles.

Allen is an only child.

Allen loves his parents but is distant from the rest of his family.

Allen has photographic memory.

Allen eats instant noodles a lot.

Allen can't cook, but is willing to learn how to cook egg dishes for Deuce.

Allen doesn't have a lot of stamina.

Allen has problems falling asleep.

Allen is generally bad at sports, but can run fastly and dance very well. He does, however, suck at ballroom dance.

Allen is often called a twink, and he's very curvy for a skinny guy.

Allen has long eyelashes.

Allen received chest surgery during book 5 and now has scars.

Allen prefers coffee over tea.

Allen dislikes pastries.

[film-in-my-soul]

The Face of Hextech | 1,957 | AppleSharon / @applesharonfiction

Summary: Jayce likes serving Viktor’s sweetmilk in the Man of Progress mug because sometimes Viktor looks down at the picture and laughs. He makes it a point to ensure that Viktor’s brown mug becomes a holder for pens, pencils, his compass, and other assorted stationary. It’s unfair that Viktor doesn’t have a mug, Jayce thinks. It’s unfair that people don’t recognize Viktor for the brilliant person he is. After receiving a mug with his face on it at their hexgate celebration party, Jayce wants to make sure that Viktor receives the recognition he deserves. Based on this art commissioned by the LoL Germany account where Jayce drew Viktor's face on a mug.

your heart was on fire bright | 4,667 | adoctoraday / @crownofstardustandbone

Summary: It's just Sunday dinner, it shouldn't be this hard for Jayce to open his mouth and ask Viktor to come, but somehow it feels even scarier than it'd been to stand before the Council and risk banishment.

Your Past is Always Close Behind | 7,442 | Miikado

Summary: After his time in the wastelands of Piltover, Jayce is thrown back further in the past then he intended, and finds himself standing in front of a version of his partner, before they invented Hextech. Maybe he has more options than he'd thought. And maybe, just maybe, he can allow himself to be cared for, for once. “There will be time for questions later… Come.” Viktor holds out a hand, helping the other man to his feet with some difficulty. “You need a bath.”

High Hawk Season | 9,959 | JeanLuciferGohard / @thefaustaesthetic

Summary: Three weeks, and the south-facing side of his apartment is still missing, and they won’t even let him sleep there with a tarp tacked over it, because the ‘structure of the building was compromised’ and it’s ‘not fit for habitation’, as if student housing, even student housing on the Kiramann’s dime, ever had any claim on habitability in the fucking first place. “I've been sleeping at the lab, Viktor.” (which he probably would’ve done anyway, but it’s matter of principle–it’s–okay, it’s fundamental question of free will and fair housing practices and not having to live with his mother, who publicly called him a lunatic) Sometimes, you are a genius, and a sizable explosion knocks out most of your living space, and you end up living with your research partner, and it's only weird if you make it weird.

(see more recommendations below!)

Another Bite for Our Hextech Dream | 12,969 | virtualbugs

Summary: “Have you eaten recently?” It seemed to catch Viktor by surprise. The man paused, his eyes getting glazed over for a moment as the gears in his head started turning again and he thought about the question. “I, uh, cannot recall.” Viktor had been getting thinner and more exhausted throughout the years, replacing basic human needs with magic and metal. Jayce couldn't help but get worried.

All that I am | 20,441 | FatherBroken / @fatherbroken

Summary: The distant look in the Mage’s eyes snapped to the gap of the roof, to the near-silent tuttering of other, watchful machines down below. “No, it doesn’t matter. You will be safe up here. It should be simple enough, to lay protective wards into the earth of the tower. I won’t let anything happen to you,” he vowed. Promises held no impetus in this world, where nothing happened, nothing changed. The Machine reset its position on its knees and replaced its hands on the weapon of a fallen era. I can’t stop you from making useless promises, can I? Somehow, without doing anything, the Machine had gained a visitor and protector.

Observational Studies | 7,573 | begaydocrimes10001

Summary: It is difficult to understand a person like Viktor. He is the smartest person Jayce knows, that's for certain, but it's difficult to say anything for certain beyond that. He's proud of his work, but he outright rejects any opportunities to brag about his work at galas. He's cold and sharp when he interacts with people, but he makes time to think about every child in the Undercity. He's mesmerizing, but he's also the guy who will whack Jayce in the shins if Jayce makes one more wrong remark about an equation. Jayce can't help but fall for him. (A collection of moments where Jayce learned more about Viktor as a person. It is hard not to observe someone as unique as Viktor; it is harder not to fall in love with him.)

Run It Back | 11,224 | spqr

Summary: The first thing Jayce sees when he wakes up is Viktor, frowning at him. “Jayce,” Viktor says, with that same cautious patience he gets when he wanders into the lab to find some contraption of Jayce’s half-built on the table and he doesn’t know whether he can touch it without running the risk of blowing himself up. “What did you do?” (or: Jayce builds a time loop after the council attack, and Viktor dies again. and again and again and again.)

Better Hypothetical | 15,186 | Miikado

Summary: Jayce Talis joins the Piltover Academy to work on his research, and meets his new lab partner. It’s all downhill from there. OR : Jayce and Viktor start working together under different circumstances, the struggles of getting along and the inevitability of finding each other

Ivory Tower | 30,051 | aban_asaara / @aban-asaara

Summary: Knowing that Viktor’s dying anyway should’ve made it easier, but it doesn’t. They should’ve had their entire lives spread out in front of them. Should’ve kept changing the world one eureka at a time. Should’ve returned the favour and made Viktor’s dream a reality. Helped him. Helped Zaun. Jayce waits. And waits. And waits. Following Jinx’s attack on the Council, Viktor slips into a strange, unnatural coma. It falls to Jayce to release him.

Imagine Being Loved By Me | 8,285 | FourOddApples / @fouroddapples

Summary: “If I didn’t know any better I would think you are trying to make me blush.” Behind Viktor’s ostensibly joking tone, their eyes meet again, and Jayce’s throat goes a little dry at the focused intensity of them. Alright. This…is admittedly not quite the direction he was originally planning to take this. Doesn’t mean he’s not willing to take a chance like this if it is offered to him so freely. “Is it working?” Or: Jayce, a young man from Zaun with no prospects and a scientifically inclined mind, decides to take his future into his own hands. In a stolen academy uniform at a party, he meets a Councillor’s son named Viktor who makes him question what he thought he knew about topsiders—and who is just overall very distracting.

the only living boy in piltover | 11,215 | weatheredlaw / @weatheredlaw

Summary: There is a beautiful stranger sitting on Jayce’s favorite bench. or: jayce and viktor meet. time passes and it doesn't. not everything is as it seems.

And It's Called Black Magic | 12,068 | beta_mackerel

Summary: Hogwart's potions master Viktor could never have expected this. How was he supposed to know that Jayce Talis, genius, golden boy extraordinaire, and fellow professor would be foolish enough to eat the love potion-filled chocolates he'd confiscated from a student? But he can fix this. All he has to do is slip Jayce the antidote without him knowing and forget about the love-sick puppy looks he's been giving him all day. It should be fine. Right?

High-Viscosity | 12,629 | capyshota

Summary: Jayce knows having a plumber over is like… the sex cliche, but he’s never even thought about fucking a client, let alone actually done it. His job isn’t sexy, it’s dirty, and kind of boring, and those things don’t usually spur hot fantasies for him. But smartly dressed older men with indiscernible European accents, he’s come to realize, definitely do.

maximum capacity | 14,537 | Sinister_Queer

Summary: Jayce is everything Viktor ever wished for in a partner: intelligent, kind, strong, handsome and — … well, he has everything Viktor ever hoped for and he fully intends to enjoy it to the fullest. (AKA the fic where Viktor is a size king and Jayce happily indulges.)

singular focus | 14,797 | Sinister_Queer

Summary: Jayce has always back-burnered relationships in favor of chasing his dreams - putting the possibility of love and connection aside again and again until the day he looks up from his work and realizes with sudden clarity that he is a 30 year old virgin. And Viktor has some thoughts on how to fix that. (AKA: the virgin!Jayce fic that needed to be purged from my mind like an exorcism.)

Your Hands on My Body | 15,274 | UndercityViktor / @undercityviktor

Summary: *Viktor voice* "I present to you...": A Modern AU with Jayce working as a physio and sports massage therapist after crashing out of medical school, and Viktor, who works at the university and researches and builds bionic prosthetics etc. After he is referred to Jayce for a sports massage, Viktor unwillingly goes and finds that it’s not as much hokum as he was expecting… Chill Modern AU where everyone is pretty happy, and no one gets hurt and there's no big drama, just found family taking care of each other. *Rating has gone up from Teen to Explicit, so please be mindful of that.*

the 7 years between (and a bit of the after) | 16,440 | yellow813

Summary: Jayce falls in love with Viktor in the small moments tucked within those seven years together. He doesn't realize until it's too late. Or; The events of Arcane told through Jayce's eyes.

And They Were Roommates | 18,252 | Neibba

Summary: “That is just how Jayce is, Sky.” Viktor argued. “There is nothing about him that even hints he is anything other than straight. He brought home literal Barbie last night, she did the walk of shame out of our apartment this morning.” “Well I said he was queer not that he had bad taste.” Sky mused and Viktor shot her another glare. “Viktor, when am I ever wrong? You don’t even need to answer that because the answer is never and you know it.” Or: Viktor is helplessly in love with Jayce, but Jayce is straight…or is he? This is just supposed to be a quick, short project to get the creative juices flowing. It is not supposed to exceed 20k words! We’ll see if I hold myself to that.

I've Been Thinking of All the Little Things That You've Been Missing | 19,664 | FourOddApples / @fouroddapples

Summary: “Just a note. If someone is in love with you and you don’t want them, the kind fucking thing to do is to let them go.” Or: Viktor takes a chance that Jayce doesn’t know what to do with. Things are different after that, and slowly but surely Jayce begins to second-guess his response.

advanced practical physics (the laws of attraction apply) | 26,045 | Sinister_Queer

Summary: Jayce has five months left until he finishes his undergraduate degree. Five months until he could start his real life, until he could start doing what he wanted. The only thing standing in his way is one group project and the partner he'd slept with two nights ago. (Jayce and Viktor have a one night stand, then end up as group project buddies.)

Bad Machinery | 27,239 | Tlon / @tlonista

Summary: It's as predictable as the laws of physics: a Piltover golden boy should despise a starving inventor from the undercity. But when Viktor's tipped off to a scholar buying strange materials in the Lanes, he's desperate enough to sneak topside and propose a deal. He's not expecting to break every rule he's learned to live by for a man who needs him just as much. Or, the Arcane Act 1 AU where Viktor never left the undercity, but he found Jayce anyway.

Blog Info ☆ 2025 Reclists ☆ 2024 Reclists

[homestuckreplay]

i bet the SORD….. deals negative damage to enemies

(page 1817-1828)

After a long four days without updates (it’s convention season), Homestuck is BACK and I am so excited to be back. We pick back up with this beautiful panel of Jade’s dreambot surrounded by clouds, stars, lilypads… and frogs. Frogs which have previously been referred to as ‘Cherished Idol[s]’ that ‘play a special role in [John’s] quest’ but are also ‘ILLEGAL CONTRABAND’ (p.1358), and are simultaneously ‘sacred/illicit’ (p.1359). So the fact that they’re just hanging out here on Jade’s very Skaia-influenced island, hours at most before her entry into the Medium, has to be relevant.

Jade has built Dave’s house up to the First Gate here, and we previously saw Dave so the same to Rose’s (p.1689) so everyone is ready to progress in the game except for Jade herself, who’s stuck until John finds that disc. Jade is also directly in the narrative text again, which isn’t even weird because she’s so used to engaging with cosmic forces far beyond her control, I just find it worth noting each time. Finally, Jade has an entourage of Prospit agents watching her build, which is very cute. Maybe this tweet from a day before this page was posted has something to do with it.

Jade then reveals that her ‘neighbor in the other tower is supposed to be waking up soon’ (p.1819) which simply does not feel right. John has such a full schedule – he’s in the veil, he needs to do some ectobiology that he put on the suit for, he needs to talk to carcinoGeneticist again, he needs to go back to LOWAS, find the server disc and get Jade into the Medium, he needs to tell his friends about this Reckoning that’s about to happen, he might still be trying to save his dad, and now he’s also got to take a nap?? Of course he should sleep if he’s tired but his to do list within the story is REALLY piling up while everyone else is just alchemizing and building. We gotta cut back to John soon because I’m worried about him.

Then, Dave wakes up and starts alchemizing, and gets a little weird with it. He has more base materials to work with than Rose as he has all of future Dave’s stuff and I think he’s also less interested in being economical with grist, so here’s what he’s made so far.

iShades (Sunglasses && iPhone) – I think there is no need to give Apple this free publicity but it is cute that the Daves now have matching sunglasses.

Turntop (Timetables && Computer) – oh it has time powers you say?? perhaps the power to send messages through time? That almost doesn’t seem right because I feel like future Dave would have sent messages to his friends in the past if he later developed that power. Still, it’s possible the trolls did get those powers through some smart alchemy combinations. Anyway the two half keyboards feel intrinsically wrong somehow even though I know in my heart that is how typing works.

Red Plush Puppet Tux (Suit || Red Smuppet) – Hey Dave, why exactly do you want to wear a puppet? Why do you wanna be wrapped in the thing that’s tormented you your whole life? Also much like Rose’s velvet/wool dress, this thing will get WAY too hot for adventuring. These kids have never heard of breathable fabrics and Dave is on a lava planet. Dave also speculates about how the original suit was made, ending with ‘That's how you would have made it anyway.’ (p.1823). I don’t think this will get answered but I’d personally like it if Dave was wrong about this, just like he was wrong when he told John Davesprite ‘wouldnt give a shit’ about being told he wasn’t the real Dave (p.1692). Honestly I think that past versions of me would also misunderstand and misinterpret my current self so seeing that played out with Dave, especially when he’s so confident he’s right, is super interesting to me.

Broken Scarlet Ribbitar (Broken Caledscratch && Ruby Frog) – This is the first time we’ve seen the name of Dave’s sword, ‘Caledscratch’. A quick search for ‘caled sword’ pulls up a 2008 Arthurian mythology article saying that Caledfwlch was the early Welsh name for Excalibur, and Caladbolg was a sword belonging to an Irish folk hero, both from the Welsh/Irish word for ‘hard’. So ‘Caledscratch’ = ‘hard scratch’ which, yeah, that’s exactly what a sword does I guess. ‘Scratch’ could also refer to a record scratch, appropriate for the record on its hilt. Sometimes the names of things in this comic annoy me because in all my years of DMing I’ve never come up with anything this good.

Scarlet Ribbitar (Unbroken Caledscratch && Ruby Frog) – This is confirmation on how the sword actually works – Dave ‘dial[s] back CALEDSCRATCH'S little turntable, rewinding the sword to a point in its history before it was broken’ (p.1826). This was sort of implied by seeing it in action during ‘[S] Dave: Accelerate’ (p.1641) but it stated outright here. Anyway, neither this or the broken version get made because they cost millions of a mystery grist, perhaps a frog themed grist given the importance of frogs. Either way, I think combining anything with a frog will be an expensive item. Also I’d love to see what the reverse combination (Caledscratch || Ruby Frog) would look like – a frog with a sword for a tongue that can rewind/fast forward between tadpole and frog??

SORD….. – (Prop Sword && Hella Jeff) – This costs 0 grist and is completely unusable as a weapon. Sburb is like I don’t care just have this and get it away from my fancy technology. The fact that it turns not only the sword but also Dave himself and the panel he’s in to a SBAHJ quality level - and turns the alchemiter display font to Comic Sans - is potentially very disturbing, and could maybe be weaponized (for example, prototyping a sprite with a SORD….. might depower enemies a whole lot). I actually really badly want to make a SORD….. in real life and to cosplay this version of Dave at Comic Con this fall or something even though I super don’t have the time/money. Its design is as compelling as it is ridiculous.

Snoop Dogg Snow Cone Machete (Snoop && Air Conditioner || Caledscratch) – Okay I was confused about the Peanuts characters but having researched this, Snoop Dogg was a big fan of Peanuts and took his name from Snoopy, so it does make sense, even though I think Dave would find Peanuts way too earnest. I guess it makes sense for Dave to make an ice themed weapon given the heat of his planet, but this honestly reminds me of John’s Wrinklefucker (p.1068) – it’s a cool idea and looks useful, but doesn’t perfectly fit the character’s vibe.

To be continued, probably. We haven’t yet seen a panel of Dave surrounded by all his sweet loot so I’m sure he has more up his sleeve.

[terresdebrume]

Readers I have to confess something: the reason I'm not writing these days is because the most comfortable way to do a 2nd draft for me is to use the overtype function in Microsoft Word. It's an absolute lifesaver when I need to rewrite my drafts in full, super great, much more efficient than other anti blank-page-panic tricks I've seen for me. HOWEVER, I currently do not own a laptop or a proper computer, which means that the only way for me to use this method is to bring the work laptop home and use it there and I keep trying but honestly? It kinda gives me hives xD So, yeah. Progress on stories is slow, and it is likely to stay slow for that reason.

You do, however, get to keep receiving typo-riddled snippets that may or may not make it into a proper fic someday, because I can easily type those on my phone or tablet x)

Anyway, this one features Edwin meeting [SPOILER], feeling like he handles it rather poorly, and being reassured by Charles. Enjoy x)

The first thing Edwin notices when he gets there is the screaming. High pitched, full lunged, quite audibly furious: the sort of sound that grates through his eardrums and to his soul, making him want to cover his ears immediately. Instead, he takes a deep breath, adjusts his grip on the bottle of wine and the book he brought, and rings the bell.

"Coming!" Charles yells from what must be his kitchen, the sound muffled by the front window.

Edwin stands at the main door, eyes idly gazing at the right hand side of the building and the delicate English roses growing there, until the screaming gets closer and the door opens up. Charles gives him a harried smile, a toddler whom Edwin assumes is his son Kai wailing like something is violently pulling at his entrails.

"So we're having a bit of an evening," Charles apologize while Kai wails even louder.

Edwin follows Charles' gesture and walks in, taking his shoes off at the entrance to Charles' half of the townhouse while Kai's screaming turns into words Edwin doesn't understand. Charles answers in the same language, patient and soft but obviously tired, and by the time they're back in the kitchen it seems to be all he can do to keep rocking his son.

"Dinner's a bit late," he says, nodding at the dish simmering on the stove. It smells hearty and full of vegetables, and Edwin's mouth fills with saliva in absolute record time.

"That's alright," he says. "I understand. I'm told I used to have regular meltdowns when I was a toddler."

"Yeah, he's usually pretty calm," Charles says, rocking Kai from side to side in his arms, "but Crystal and I thought his binky was in his room here, so now she's out for the night, he hasn't had a nap, and it's still too early to crash."

Edwin winces in sympathy, watching as Kai shoves his pointy little face into Charles' collarbone, still screaming his lungs out and so red even the pale brown of his skin doesn't hide the blush. Charles manages his dishes one handed, obviously practiced, and Edwin does his best to stay out of the way and hide the way Kai's screaming makes hime want to plug his ears and run away or worse, start crying.

Kai refuses to eat, so Edwin ends up sitting on his own for most of dinner, Charles in the living room to calm him down, until sheer exhaustion finally vanquishes the tears and Charles is able to put his son down to sleep. Edwin hears him putter out upstairs, hears water running for a second or two, and then Charles' stockinged feet reappear at the top of the stairs.

"Sorry about that," he says.

Edwin smiles as best as he can, because it's hardly Charles or Kai's fault that toddlers scream and Edwin reacts the way he does to strident noise. It mustn't be very convincing though, because Charles makes a comforting noise and engulfs him in a hug, and Edwin finds himself melting into it against all expectations. It's been almost eight years since the last time Charles hugged him, yet somehow the feeling of his arms around Edwin's shoulders is still comfortable. Quiet. Safe.

Edwin stays there, standing in Charles' kitchen, with his nose tucked into Charles' collar, for longer than he care to count. Longer than appropriate, probably. But stay there he does anyway, and Charles lets him, hugs him tight until his breathing slows down, and the buzz in his ears recedes, nothing more than an ache now.

"Forgive me," Edwin says, not quite daring to meet Charles' eyes, "I didn't mean—"

"It's fine," Charles reassures, his hands warm where they run against Edwin's shoulders. "I had a bit of a cry before I came back down, you know?"

Edwin frowns, surprised. Little children, from what he has seen, cry often and do almost everything loudly. This has never seemed to bother any of the adults in his family. His little cousins, he remembers distinctly, were forcibly put to bed when they got started on the screaming, and left alone until they calmed down, no matter how long or how piercingly they wailed. No one but Edwin ever seemed to wish for earplugs. No one seemed to cringe from it with their entire body.

That Charles, who didn't even cry when Edwin told him there would be no justice for them about the night they almost died, could spill tears over something as apparently simple as a child crying? Even at that volume, Edwin can barely believe it.

"Did you?" He asks, so puzzled he barely realizes his hands are no longer fists. "I wouldn't have known."

"I handle it better now," Charles says with a rueful smile, "but the first few months..."

Chase grimaces and looks away, cheeks brightly pink, as if even admitting there are things that can break through his smile were too much for him. It might be, for all Edwin knows. He has been realizing, in the weeks since they reunited, that while he is very familiar with some facets of Charles, there are others that are a complete mystery, a realization softened by the knowledge that he has both the will and the time to get to know these other parts of Charles.

"I think it is quite sweet," Edwin says, taking a step back when he realizes Charles' hands are still on his shoulders. "Much better than simply wishing to make it stop, at any rate."

"Oh I do think that too," Charles admits, one hand coming up to fiddle with the gold chain at his neck. "I just kinda push it out, you know."

Edwin smiles, oddly relieved. Charles didn't seem to physicaly recoil from the sound like Edwin did, but it's still good to know he's not entirely alone with his discomfort. It is, he must admit, even better to have Charles here now, free to sit down and start in on his cold dahl. Edwin sits across from him at the kitchen table, which Charles hastily set earlier, tries not to be too strange about how pleased he is to see Charles take care of himself.

"I rather admire you, you know. I don't know I would have handled this."

"Like a champ, probably," Charles replies, spoon halfway to his mouth.

"Mmh. You are assuming I wouldn't simply calp my hands over my ears and leave."

"Of course you wouldn't," Charles scoffs, rolling his eyes. "You're way too kind for that."

"But I would be thinking it," Edwin insists, and Charles shrugs, swallowing another mouthful od dahl before he says:

"It's fine to think it. You just don't do it." Edwin feels the skeptical expression etching itself on his features in real time, seconds before Charles registers it and sobers up, putting his spoon down.

"I get it," he says leaning back in his chair with a studiously relaxed air. "After I told Crystal I'd help raise him I--I had panic attacks. For weeks."

Charles glances up at Edwin, who nods immediately. Bad home situation. He remembers. Charles nods back, visibly relieved that he doesn't need to explain again, and he reaches a hand out to fiddle with his bright blue plastic cup as his eyes fall to the tabletop. "I had to uh. See someone about it. It was stressing Crystal out." From the way Charles says it, Edwin strongly suspect that factor weighed far more heavily in the decision than Charles' personal wellbeing. "One of the things she keeps telling me is like. It's basically fine if I feel like shouting at people. Even Kai. I just gotta...not do it. Or uh. apologize when I do."

Charles' eyes dart up to meet Edwin's and he tries to respond with the kindest smile he can manage. From experience, he does realize it isn't that great a comfort, but Charles knows him enough to guess at the intent behind it and smile back.

"My point is, it's okay if you don't like the sound. I don't like it either. And you don't know each other, so obviously you don't know what to do. But when you seem him at a better time, I know you'll do great."

Edwin looks down at his hands, the bright heat of a blush splashed across his cheeks.

"Thank you," he murmurs. "For your confidence."

Charles makes a scoffing sound that is surely meant to convey how easy it is for him to have faith in Edwin's capacity not to traumatize little Kai, when they met properly, but Edwin's blush stays firm. None of his cousins were ever entrusted to his care, for any length of time. People find him difficult, complicated, antisocial and haughty at the best of time. Charles' words, after a lifetime of being measured for his social skills and being found profoundly lacking, soothe a wound Edwin hadn't quite realized existed. It takes him a moment to recover, silent and looking down at his hands, the fists his parents admonished him so many times for, and Charles never.

All that time, Charles sits in front of him, waiting him out patiently when he could very well get up and get started on the dishes, or prepare the card game he wanted to introduce Edwin to. Charles may have trouble sitting still more than five minutes, at times, and there are large chunks of his life that are a complete mystery to Edwin still. But sitting here, in a narrow kitchen, with Charles' warm gaze on him, Edwin realizes that he knows more than enough about the man to be in very real danger of falling right back in love with him.

[itsthestutterforme]

BROKEN SILVER LININGS: Chapter Four

Summary: Steve’s voicemails gave you closure but they were also holding you back. And you didn’t have the heart to delete them. But something else quickly caught your attention

Warnings/Notes: Sorry for so much angst guys! I just needed to get it out of my system but wholesome fluff is coming 😌

Voicemail 1:

Y/N, please call me back. We can still talk about this. I-I don’t want to leave like this. I don’t want to leave knowing that I hurt you. Just please call me back, baby.

Voicemail 2:

Hey.. I can’t stop thinking about what you said about getting the life Tony said to get. There’s something I didn’t tell you. When he said that, he was talking about you. He said when you’ve met your soulmate, to never let her go. And that same day, I bought a ring for you. I was ready to build a life with you, Y/N. If you called me back and told me to stay, I would do it. In a heart beat because I am in love with you. Please, pick up the phone. I need to hear your voice, baby.

Voicemail 3:

It’s okay. You’re not going to call me back.I understand. I just- he sniffles- I just wanted you to know that I really am sorry that I couldn’t be the one to take care of you and love you the way you should be loved. There’s so much more I want to say-

“Hey Cap!” A voice calls.

I love you, Y/N. Good bye.

Five Months Later

You took Bucky’s therapist’s advice and slowly eased yourself back into your normal life. Your friends.

Your job as a HR rep for SHIELD’s rebrand. But instead of going to the gym after work, you go on walks with Bucky.

It’s became a routine for you since Steve died. You still listen to Steve’s voicemails every once in a while when you really missed his voice.

It wasn’t until recently that you could listen to the voicemails without crying. So you call that progress.

But healing isn’t always linear, and there would be days that you slip up. You would be curled up on your couch in your favorite blanket.

Bucky’s six sense would come to the rescue and he would call you later that night.

“Something didn’t seem right. Is everything okay?” He would ask and despite how confident you tell him that you were fine, he stayed on the line with you anyway until you fell asleep.

That how you knew that something was wrong when he didn’t meet you in the park after work.

But you told yourself that maybe he forgot or got caught up with something. Or maybe he had a date, who knew?

Bucky was still a mysterious man despite how close you’ve grown.

So you went home to start on the medium length passion twists you had planned to do. But Bucky would pop up in your head every few minutes.

When you gave him a call later that night, it went straight to voicemail.

Why was his phone off?

When he didn’t show up a second time, you began to think the worst.

Something must of happened to him. HYDRA must have gotten him somehow.

You hopped in your car and drove to his apartment. The second red flag was the dry spot under his car.

It rained four days ago, which means that he didn’t move to go anywhere for at least four days.

Taking the elevator up to his apartment, you practically ran down the hallway until you stood in front of his door.

“Bucky?” You knocked on the door but it creaked open when your knuckles came into contact with it.

You pushed the door open further to see Bucky sitting on the floor with his back pressed against the couch.

Tears flowed down his cheeks as he stared straight ahead.

Shutting the door, you walked past his make shift bed on the floor and kneeled down next to him.

“Bucky,” you started but he doesn’t move an inch.

“Talk to me, please.” You pleaded and he blinks in response.

Although you were worried, you wanted to respect his space so you sat on the floor beside him.

You let out a soft breath, leaning your head on the couch to look up at the ceiling. You closed your eyes for a moment, remembering how you were in this exact position five months ago. And Bucky got you out of it.

It was your job as his best friend to do the same for him. “You changed your hair,” his raspy voice speaks after a few minutes of silence.

Lifting your head up, you find him staring at you and your passion twists.

“Yeah, it’s a protective style. I did it yesterday.” You explained softly, taking one of the twists in your hands.

“I like it,”

“Thank you,” you turned so you were facing him and he did the same. You let him speak first, even if it took him a while.

You’ve learned to be patient like he was.

“What if he was wrong about me?” “Why would he be wrong about you? Wrong about what?”

“That I was worth saving,” his voice cracked and he started to breathe heavy.

“Steve was right. You are worth saving because you are not your past. You are not your mistakes. That’s not who you are,”

“I don’t even know who I am,” he croaks.

“I’ll tell you who you’re not. You’re not the Winter Soldier. You’re not even the White Wolf. You’re not a monster, Bucky. You’re trying to figure your life out just like the rest of us,“

He pulls his knees up and leans his arms over his legs. Bowing his head, more tears fell down his face and into his lap.

“Hey, look at me.” You said softly, waiting for him to look at you before continuing.

“You are James Buchanan Barnes. You’re an Avenger just like us. And more importantly, you’re Steve’s best friend. You’re my best friend.” You reached over to hold the side of his face but he tenses.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-“

“No,” he says, taking your hand into his and pressing your palm to the side of his face.

“No, please touch me. Please.” He whimpers, more tears leaving his eyes.

He leans into your touch with a soft sigh and you caressed his cheek. Holding the other side of his face with your free hand, you said, “Everything is going to be okay, Bucky. I got you,”

He turns his face so his head rested into the crook of your arm and you rubbed big circles in his back as he cried.

The sobs progressively got worse and louder and you tightened your hold on him.

“Everything’s going to be okay, Buck.” You reassured when his breathing started to go back to normal.

“Thank you,” he groaned, sniffling a few times but didn’t pull away from you just yet.

“Of course,” you rested your cheek against the back of his head while you waited in silence.

He slowly pulled away from you, stopping a few inches from your face. When you didn’t move away, he leans in and kisses you warmly.

Your eyes fluttered closed when he pulled you closer by your chin, relishing at how soft your lips felt against his.

Finally pulling away from you, he rests his forehead against yours and you occasionally licked your lips.

“How long have you been feeling like this?” You questioned. “Since I left cryo sleep. It just hasn’t really sunk in until..”

You nodded in understanding and he sighs deeply.

“Do you want me to take you to see your therapist? Then maybe we could go for a walk after?”

“I’d like that,” he says with a nod. You pulled away from him and he looks at you lovingly.

“I’ll freshen up then,” he starts, his gaze falling down to your lips again. “Yeah, I’ll let you do that,”

This time you were the one leaning in to kiss him, gently holding the side of his face until you pulled away slowly.

You mumbled okay against his lips before standing up and he follows suit.

The drive his therapist was silent, but it was a comfortable kind of silence. The kind of silence where everyone is on the same page and don’t feel the need to ask questions to figure it out.

You had feelings for Bucky. And Bucky had feelings for you.

You parked and turned off the car, setting the keys in the cup holder when Bucky left the car.

He said he shouldn’t be long but you weren’t exactly in a rush so it didn’t bother you none.

You watched as he walked into the lobby and you let out a tense breath that you didn’t know you were holding. Your shoulders relaxed a bit as you leaned your head into the seat.

Pulling your phone out, you clicked on the phone icon before swiping to the voicemails tab. Your thumb hovered over Steve’s third voicemail until you finally pressed it.

”It’s okay. You’re not going to call me back.I understand. I just wanted you to know that I really am so-“

You clicked the phone off and dropped it in your lap, resting your face in your hand while you chose to wait for Bucky in silence.

**

“So about the kiss,” Bucky starts as he rubs the back of his neck anxiously. His legs falling into sync with yours when you walked down the beaten path of the park.

The sun was starting to set and Bucky made a mental note to leave in the next couple of minutes. He didn’t want you out in the park at night.

It wasn’t safe. Anything could happen and he didn’t want to risk.

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Bucky. I get it. Emotions were high and we got caught up in the moment.”

He analyzes you, your twists swaying around the black trench coat you were wearing. Your relaxed expression tells him that the kiss didn’t change things like he hoped it would.

“Right, we just got caught up in the moment.” He repeats.

Then why did you kiss me again? Bucky thought to himself.

Your arm brushing against his brought him out of his thoughts. He glanced over at you looking at the flowers starting to bloom on the trees.

The wind rakes through the leaves, sending many lilac blooms towards the ground.

One bloom in particular had perfect aiming and landed directly into Bucky’s hand. “Wow, aren’t you lucky.” You tease, your arm brushing his again.

He stopped walking and moved a few of your twists out of the way to slide the flower over your ear, the pad of his thumb grazing the apple of your cheek when he pulled away.

It’s just a moment, you thought to yourself.

While Bucky thinks, this isn’t just a moment.

“I think we should go,” Bucky says at the same time you say, “I think we should stay,”

“Stay for what?” He asks as his face pressed into a confusion frown. “To go star gazing. Come on, when was the last time you went star gazing?”

“I’ve.. never been star gazing.”

“See there you go,”

“I don’t know, Y/N. This place isn’t the safest after dark.”

“This is probably one of the safest parks in the area. There’s lights and blue emergency posts everywhere. I see people star gaze here all the time.” You explain.

“How have you seen them unless you’ve been here after dark yourself?” His prussian blue eyes narrowing at you.

“I used to go on night runs-“

“Y/N,-“

“But Steve told me to go on morning runs instead because they were safer considering,” you finished but Bucky wasn’t letting you off the hook that easily.

I will kill anyone who tries to hurt you.

“Come on, Buck. I have you this time. We can do this once so you can at least say you’ve been stargazing,” you pleaded, holding his gaze with an innocent smile.

“Okay,” he says with a defeated sigh, smiling when you take his hand and drag him into the grass.

It took you a while to find the right spot before laying down and waiting until the sun finished setting.

“See? Isn’t this nice?” You watched in amazement at how bright the moon was shining tonight.

Bucky hums in response, slowly turning his head until he was looking at you.

Seeing your face under the moonlight was something he never knew he needed.

The lilac purple bloom became more vibrant under the bright moon while he could see the reflection of the stars in your eyes.

Damn.

“It wasn’t just a moment, Y/N.” He starts, watching when you turning your face to meet his gaze.

“I know,” you said softly. “But I don’t know if I’m ready, Bucky.” “You set the pace, doll. You’re the one in control.”

“You say that, but you’ll just get bored when have you have to wait too long like most guys do,” you fidget with one of the buttons on your trench coat.

“I’ll wait as long as it takes, for someone I really want.” He declares.

“You really want me?” You questioned and his face softened a bit.

He blinks slowly as he takes in every features of your face. He wanted nothing more than to caress your face, but it’s as he said. You set the pace.

A few strands of his hair fell to his forehead. You particularly liked when his hair was longer. It suited him nicely.

“Yes,” he breathed softly and you slide closer to him, resting your head on the curve of his shoulder.

Neither you or Bucky spoke again for the rest of the time. Bucky thought he had said something wrong and that was why you weren’t saying anything.

But his overthinking had an abrupt stop when he heard your soft snores that were muffled by his chest.

He knew he had to wake you up so the two of you could walk back to the car so he could drive you back to his place.

Or at the very least, stand up so he could carry you back.

But instead, he finds himself staring up at the stars twinkling in the nights sky as he made the declaration:

I’m in love with this woman.

TAGLIST:

@mostlymarvelgirl

@babezawa

@torntaltos

[mr-glorbiezzz]

pride day 3!!!!!

Edd!! He’s one of my 80’s ocs!!!

Before i get into this ramble, just know that his stpry mentions drugs amd drug use and stuff. So do not read if you dont like imagining drugs!!!

Okay, so his story is that he works at an adult store, really boring day-to-day, but at least watching patriotic ‘homophobic’ men snd women try and explain why they’re buying the gayest options possible is really funny. Then, the crack epidemic hits. People are making THOUSANDS from drug dealing alone! So, why not get involved and make himself a bit of money too? What’s he got to lose? He’s a black, gay man working in an adult shop. Upon getting his hands on crack and starting to sell, he is instantly less worried about bills and food. New York isn’t very forgiving to the minimum wage.

Eventually, he gets hooked onto the stuff himself—not ‘addicted’ quite yet, more so occasionally taking a couple of “test drives” for an extra energy boost. That or extra paranoia. At some point, his supplier, Lorraine, gives him an experimental drug to try before selling. It’s a natural thing for Edd to do now; buy the drugs, test them out, and sell them for ridiculously high prices. I aint good at explaining this part so i’ll just say it; the crack turns him into some werewolf thing. Turns out it wasn’t actually crack, more so a VERY secretive and experimental government drug that was being tested for biological warfare. Naturally he and Lorraine get into deep shit cause of this. The government doesnt even like revealing its current political state and stability, so letting it be known that a highly experimental biological weapon was let loose and has already affected one person? Yeah, they’re fucked.

So they hide out in Lorraine’s late husband’s apartment while trying to figure out 1–how to fix Edd, and 2–how to evade the government. Well, heavy knocks at the old and decaying door quickly ruin any progress. Two men storm in and attempt to apprehend Edd and Lorraine. It triggers the werewolf thing, Edd attacks, and they flee not long after he turns back. Just barely in time too, as the freaking apartment building blows up. They run off to a diner and try to listen to the lady singing to calm down and strategize. They stay in the diner for about 40 minutes until some breaking news pops up on the tv at the breakfast bar, calling Edd and Lorraine domestic terrorists. Fun.

See, the government NEEDED to catch these two before they could spill their guts about what happened or Edd accidentally goes werewolf on a poor citizen! One thing the government can’t stand is taking responsibility, so they’re desperate to find these two and quiet them somehow. They knew that if they were to go public with the whole werewolf thing, the public wouldn’t care to help cause it’s the government’s fault it happened. If anything, the people would probably REVOLT against yhe government for this! They were unfortunately smart enough to know they needed something bigger to happen, something bad to pin the blame on them and make it seem worth it to hunt them down. What better than to label them domestic terrorists after sending in suicide bombers and call it a day?

Now Edd and Lorraine are on the run, evading death threat after death threat after desth threat, both physical and verbal death threats. Y’know what? i ran out of the main story to share so i’ll skip to the end. Word gets out about what the government did, and people are OUTRAGED. They let this homosexual and ally take the blame for everything that happened??!?!? and during PRIDE MONTH?!?!?!? Well it nearly caused a governmental collapse. Edd and Lorraine end up living in a small house in a nice-ish neighborhood AS ROOMMATES. Edd is still very gay and Lorraine is like 13 or so years older than him anyway. They live happily-ish ever after the end of :D

@kalied0skull i hope you enjoy my story cause i liked putting it all out and barely thought of all these details today, not even gonna bullshit you

[aelinschild]

Paradigm; side by side

˙✧˖ March 5th: Surprise

Main Masterlist | Paradigm; side by side Masterlist |

SYNOPSIS: But shame appeared like a monster at his feet; he did not stop at noticing. WORDCOUNT: 742 WARNINGS: Cursing, horny Rowan again (This is a reoccurring theme)

Huge thank you to @throneofglassmicrofics for organizing! Make sure to check out other works over on their account!

He was sick. 

It dripped from the cracked open well of his mind. This carnal infatuation. Two fucking days at sea only chafed his hands further. Drove him to the brink of insanity with nothing but luminosity in its reach. Futile, his attempt. 

A near decade of solitude had changed him. Or maybe it was the woman across the hall.

Somehow his humanity had been stripped from being, flayed off bone like parchment. More animal than man, abruptly changing his being in the presence of another. Huffing, he drove the shovel into sun-warmed earth again. Splitting callouses on the wooden handle and welcoming the burn of slivers. It was a welcomed reprieve – the physical pain – to the dwelling in between cerebral tissues. 

In the swirl of his coffee, the drip of shaving cream as it swirled down the drain, even the goddamn seafoam teased him. Staring into them, eyes tracing over the natural patterns, before shifting and curling. Volume and peaks. He would catch a line – trace it as it flowed, morphed, connecting at an apex, rising into a cinch. He saw her everywhere. 

A part of him knew this compulsion was natural. That isolation crafts a certain brand of savagery. Hardly any shame in noticing. 

But shame appeared like a monster at his feet; he did not stop at noticing. 

Thud, thud, thud. 

It had been like holding a blessing, warming him through all atrophy. Skin, bloody and bruised, had all but screamed at him to touch. Bandage, or press into. Delicately trace serrated hide, peel back coverings. He still felt her weight in his hands. Hadn't fallen asleep until the weight of quilted blankets held a candle to her. 

Dirt fell from the edges of the hole, tumbling back in. Progress slipping away. Less so than if he had chosen to dig through sand. Its richness packed it together, congealing the salt water with decay as it sopped through the distance. He would need to dig deeper for any progress to be made today. 

It was an escape, an out. This craft he had taken up for the day. I need to build… head heavy and tongue laden. She had only nodded, eyes skirting his own, before tucking back into the sunroom. The gossamer skirt flowed along the worn floorboards. He hoped it would catch, shred the entire thing from her body. He would not be at fault for the natural world's intentions. But he felt sick for wanting them. 

-

He was wearing the shirt today. 

But it had been removed not too long ago, tossed into tall grass and nestled into Gaia’s clutches. The weight of it along sun-warmed flesh had been oppressive. Settling on him like tar, sticky and irremovable. It hadn't mattered anyway. 

The night had been so quiet. He had woken up thrice; checked her room once to make sure she hadn't run off in the night. The feeling had wormed around his mind, you scared her. Brutish and nasty in all lonesome glory when he towered over her. Pulse racing with fear, expelled into a rage. But she had been there. Nestled between blankets he had chosen. Cooled from windows cast open that he had built. Sheltered in the small canopy bed – a family heirloom. There was a strange sense of pride when he truly took in the sight of it all. 

That, and some darker yearning for permanence. 

Lingering on the thoughts would have led nowhere good, and so Rowan has risen before the sun to set off on foot towards the forest nearby. Acres of land penned in eternal ink in his mind's eye had led him to the collection of deadfall. Most rotted with sickness meant that the early cerebration had stalled in its rampage. A beast calmed, eye shutting with content and thumping back to its cavern. 

Eventually, enough solid elm was collected, and the walk back to Aelin- the house, was in part. 

To this moment, torrid heat lashing down on him as he stood unmovable. A sculpted portrayal of the lover scorned. Waiting for the moment when disdain, apathy, fuck, even curiosity morphed into something more. Until then, he would burn. Sun rays or gold-lined irises. It made no difference. 

Rowan watched Aelin rouse from bed, his spot in the tall grass a mighty vantage point to the moment between vulnerability and its nemesis. Like a predator stalking his prey, he did not move until she disappeared from sight.

Taglist: @mariaofdoranelle , @leiawritesstories , @renxzs

[project-sekai-facts]

hi! first off, wanted to say thank you for all the fun facts - truly makes my day whenever there’s a new post from this blog :D

secondly, not sure if anyone else has asked this, but i was wondering what your thoughts are on whether a cohesive in-universe timeline of events could actually be constructed? (someday, from the depths of despair happening before n25 main story, l/n main story happening in the beginning of the school year, etc.) i’d imagine you’d have to ignore or somehow squish together all the holiday/seasonal events, or is it simply impossible to squeeze about three years of events into one cohesive ‘canon’ year?

anyways, hope you have a good rest of your day/evening :) keep up the good work!

Omg thank you?? I'm honoured haha

This is my pepe silvia moment sorry

Never underestimate my probable neurodivergence. It's a work in progress and I want to try and get it done by September but the horrible amount of anachronisms in the main story is killing me. Like WxS simultaneously has to be the first and last main story because it needs to happen before the MMJ and VBS stories but also after Leo/need but that takes place at the same time as MMJ but also before it and WxS also has to be after VBS because WxS isn't a thing when akitoya divorce but then Leo/need doesn't exist when akitoya divorce either Saki isn't even at school yet which means there's no MMJ either but WxS exists before Kohane cuts her hair and MMJ story is in progress when that happens like what. I'm calling this confirmation that the main stories were written by 5 different teams. That or no one proofread anything. Oh there's also a massive error with Haruka's age where they say she's 16 but based on when the story is set she should be 15 and the game insists she was never pushed back a year. Thanks colopale.

Anyway since only one main story mentions a date as far as I remember (WxS) I've been trying to build it off of that. There are still errors because the date mentioned is "first day of school break", you can work out that they're talking about summer break by process of elimination but then none of the other units go on summer vacation. But like we'll just ignore that because I'm too tired to deal with colopale's bad continuity writing. Also the game takes place in the 2021-2022 school year because the only date ever shown in game was 2021 and it was in an event set in September/October. The Leo/need socmed posts have mentioned other dates but we'll ignore that also.

And because I misread your question yes you can squeeze everything into a canon year...kinda. You have to timeloop it because they straight up mention in secret distance that they're going on spring break (end of school year break) and literally don't even bring up the fact that it's the end of the school year.

So I think based on what I've got right now:

WxS main story is during summer break and a week or so prior.

Which means Saki and Haruka return to school in June or July probably (they start at around the same time and it's not mentioned that Haruka starts at the beginning of the school year)

and then VBS happens once the WxS story is done (we'll call that after summer break. so september)

Miyajou doesn't get a summer break that year to fix anachronisms rip

Then we skip september for every unit except VBS and pretty much follow the events in order until we get to Secret Distance (March 2022) and loop back to April 2021 and keep doing that at every half anniversary event.

I'm assuming when we reach 3rd we'll skip all the way from September 2021 to April 2022, not timeloop and then pretend that May->September 2022 isn't real and do a Halloween event.

All the flashback events fit onto the timeline without me having to change anything somehow so at least I can respect colopale for that

This is fine

Hatsune Miku broke space-time

[oni-odyssey]

Manfred Papercraft WIP #01

I'm chipping away at designing a Manfred figure with interchangeable hands for playing Rock Paper Scissors. I've never done anything like this before and discovering that... this shit hard.

I've worked with creating low poly 3D models yeeeaaarrs ago, and because I don't have a PC strong enough to run 3D software anymore I thought, well? Papercraft could be fun? Very time consuming. When the proportions are off it's not like I can just drag a poly to make it look better - I have to DRAW THE SHAPE AGAIN and hope I planned it right. I don't really know what I'm doing so it takes hours iterating on one thing over and over until it looks okay-ish.

I'm taking notes on my progress so far but now I want to try blogging in better detail what I'm doing so I can review it later and share some updates? I... i wanna post more stuff to this blog, but only rarely do I ever have finished things to upload... so I'm gonna post about this 🫠

okay so I started with his hands back in mid January. I got his 3 hands (rock, paper and scizzy) to a finished-ish state - I'll readjust once I've progressed on his body more to see how they fit.

I didn't time how long that all took. But! I decided keep track of how long it takes for the other segments.

Yesterday I started working on the skull.

Initially I was going to have the skull split in to two segments - upper skull and bottom jaw, then glue on his facial features like nose hole and goggles.

Building his upper skull went from complicated shape to simplified planes (idk I couldn't get the shape I wanted so I removed some polys - and idk what to even call those in papercraft? corners?) which is why I planned to have the two shapes to paste together. That ended up looking crap anyway, so after designing the bottom jaw shape which was stiff and chunky-looking, I went with a simpler dangle piece. I'm trying to go for a jaw yapping thing. He's such a fun lil guy so I want there to be a little fun movement to his face, even if it's really subtle.

5.5hrs ...yeeesh. I haven't even done the gem goggles yet. Still so much to go. I'm gonna remove the sides of his jaw - I wanted them to connect to the side of his skull somehow but I think I'll tinker with a separate flat shape to paste on. Rejected shapes for that are the blurry triangles in the above pic.

Future progress on him will be slow goings, I've got a few other things I need to work on in the meantime and hbbbpp i've been really struggling with procrastination the past few weeks. If I can complete some of the other projects, then I will work on Manfred some more. Because as arduous as this all is, this has been SO FUN PAPERCRAFT FEELS SO REWARDING

[toomanynightsatbashes]

[Introduction To: TMNAB]

-[Uhh...] -[Hi! You can call me Alex! I will be your uhh...guide!] -[You might be asking yourself: What the hey is going on?!] -[Welcome to Bashes! You remember Bashes right? Bashes Deluxe Party Center? You used to go there all the time as a kid! You even work there I think before it shutdown recently...uhm...yeah! You do. I don't know why I welcomed you to a place you actively know and visit all the time. Sorry.] -[...] -[Let me explain. Do you remember that incident at Bashes when you were like...five maybe? You know the one where you found that summoning circle in the backroom? Yeahhh...I bet you forgot about that huh? Weird...multi-dimensional stuff...was it even demonic? Hey if I know...] -[Why do you think the mascots were lifelike? Those things were...I can't even explain it I don't know!!!! Granted I don't even know how Fredrick got ahold of that stuff or why he thought it was a good idea but uhhh...yeah.Hes...really good at getting away with this stuff too....wow. I feel bad for helping him with it though.] -[You were the only one who knew about the rituals besides me and I...well I got silenced if you catch my drift. So I decided- the best thing to do was to reach out! And unfortunately...besides Fredrick...your the only person who can 'pick up the phone'.] -[Well you and I- we are both TRAPPED here? You aren't dead by the way just thought I should let you know uhm you are sleeping right now...The last thing you should remember is working one of your routine shifts right? being the nightguard or whatever while they try to clean up the place and y'know- properly close it? Yeah so incase you somehow missed it which you probably did, Fredrick got you too. Soooo- now you're in here with me!] -[The good news is, you aren't actually dead like I said before which means there's still hope! I need you to...well...find a way to shut this whole operation Fredricks got going on down completely okay?] -[So uhm...here's the thing...if you look around...Bashes should look a little...different. Don't panic! It's nothing big it's just...I would try to explain it to you but I'm gonna be real with you...it's like some black magic stuff...It kinda looks like how it was before it shutdown right?] -[Every day from twelve am to six am, this place becomes...it becomes chaotic!] -[Also before you ask, no....you cannot avoid falling asleep. I'm sorry you are going to be forced in here no matter what. Make your office comfy when youre awake because I swear you literally will just pass out on the spot at like- right when twelve hits. I'm sorry. I know it sucks.] -[Anyways as I was uhhh...saying. The mascots will uhhh...They will Uhhh...become active during these hours. Well- They are always active but around that timeframe they will become HEYA active, you got that? What will they do? Well they will come after you. I don't know if they are under Fredricks control but they will seek you out and try and mess up our plan.] -[Soooo just survive this dream sequence until the clock hits six and when you wake up- Try and find out as much as you can with what's left in that building. They took out the mascots from the actual building right? You shouldn't have to worry about being attacked in real life...Oh unless a guy breaks in uhm...okay don't think about that.] -[When you come back, report to me okay? I will be on the phone line all night y'know!] -[You might mostly be confined to your office but there will be things that require you to step out.] -[Sooo...You got all that? Great. Oh! one more thing, the mascots they...get more active as each week progresses. On Sundays they are basically just...not...doing anything but the further you go the more active they get! And then it kinda...resets? If they get you then you have to start the day your on over which...ouch that will give you a migraine when you finally do wake up.] -[Sooo...lets use this day to look around okay? Don't worry, I've got your back!]

Welcome to Bashes! This is a Tumblr blog dedicated to a FNAF fangame that- cannot be made due to the creator not having...any resources to do so? Yeah. This blog will document characters, mechanics and all of that cool stuff. If you really REALLY wanna...you can even roleplay, I love to let people have fun. Creator uses He/They/It/Spiral and you can just call me Hector if you wanna address me :P Our tag? TMNAB

[sweetmage]

Work In Progress WTuesday

I love to write Vik and Risa interacting because it's always so tense and he KNOWS how bad he fucked her life up all those decades ago and that he can't take it back and all he can do is stay under her thumb and agree to everything she says to try to make it up to her AAAAAAAA

Anyway, little snippet from my NEW Vik/V longfic under the cut 🤭👀

[Preempting this by saying he never laid a hand on her but he did have a lot of anger issues that he took out on the house/himself. Just so it's clear what happened here! I'll make it more clear in the final draft]

Risa answered the door after a few moments, peering over the security chain that she never used to bother with. "You actually showed," she said, her surprise barely masked. Vik tried not to feel hurt.

"Yeah. Yeah, I did. Can I come in?"

Risa was quiet for a moment, studying him, and he felt strangely small. "I guess," she said finally, and she shut the door to unlatch the chain. When she opened it again, Vik slipped inside, dripping on the floor. "Here, let me get you a towel."

"Thanks," he murmured, watching her scurry off to the bathroom. The apartment looked the same, a mix of his furniture and her decor alongside some of his little touches—the fist-sized holes in the drywall, the faint bloodstain on the tile grout, the chipped corner of the doorframe where he'd thrown something a little too hard. The building was hers now, yet somehow it was still haunted by memories of him at his worst.

She returned a moment later, a towel in her hands. "Here. I can take your jacket if you want to hang it to dry," she offered, but he waved her off.

"Let's just get this over with, yeah?"

"Okay." She nodded and moved to sit down on the sofa. "How have you been, then?" she asked, running a hand through her hair that had gone grey at roots.

"Oh you know, same old. Biz ain't bad, got some regulars. You?"

"Seishiro came by this morning. He brought some flowers." Her eyes flitted briefly to a vase on the counter. "I"ve learned flowers always mean an apology."

He felt the barbs on her words despite her calm tone. "He seemed fine enough when he came by my clinic."

"He was working. You know my son, always a professional. So..." She collected the wine bottle she'd left on the table beside two glasses. "Let's talk biz. I know that's why you're here."

"Can't pretend this is anything but what it is."

"Good. Glad you're past that now." She handed him a glass which, under her scrutiny, he declined. "You want to start?"

"No, you go ahead."

"Mm," She nodded and took a sip. "We're increasing out prices by five percent, starting next quarter."

"Christ..."

"Supply is low. People are asking for more. You don't have to like it, but I need you to agree."

"It's always eddies with you," he grumbled, but the withering look she gave him cut him short.

"Who was it dug the hole I'm still trying to crawl out of?"

"Seems to me you made it out a long while ago."

"And for the decades I spent there?"

Vik sighed. "Risa, I—"

She waved him off. "I don't want to hear it. Do you want to argue or do you want to do biz?"

"I want to do biz," he muttered.

"Good. Then back to the matter. Your clinic's prices are too low, anyway. Adjust accordingly."

"If you ask me—"

"I didn't," she interrupted. "Is this business or a charity service you run? Because I run a business. So adjust your prices or find a new supplier."

She really had him cornered. "Fine," he bit out, fighting the urge to reach for his glass.

"I can get you the new price schedule and supply list if you want to review them," she said. "I think they'll be beneficial."

"Okay. You win. What else?"

"Just that for now. Anything you want to add?"

Vik sighed. This was always the part that was hardest for him. "Risa, I...I just want to say I'm sorry."

She gave him a long look and, when he said nothing more, she nodded. "I'm sure you are. It's done. We're past it."

"Okay. Right." Vik nodded and looked around. "But you are...you're doing good, yeah?"

"Yes."

"And you're happy?"

She took another sip. "You've said your piece. Anything else?"

"I...no. That's it. Just that. I'm glad you're good."

[robinyourcreator]

you know what. fuck it. it's still wip wednesday, and i'm having a good time. let's do this.

and a jaunty tag to anyone who wants to have fun with me and have me coo adoringly over your progress!

anyways! my fucked up, shapeshifting, gangly dragonpuppy golden retriever daughter can have a fun evil phase if she wants. she deserves it.

(she is lying. she's just so very GOOD at lying it's freaking her girlfriend out.)

And as she glances down, Azura realizes Corrin’s not only handled the enemy commander already; she’s standing on him, one foot on his chest.

“Sorry!” Corrin says cheerfully to the man under her foot. “I still don’t speak Hoshidan very well. I just don’t remember any of it from my childhood, you see. But I’m not going to ask you to repeat that anyway, because I’m pretty sure it wasn’t very nice.”

Azura notes that it had indeed not been very nice. 

“Nohrian scum,” the commander snarls then, and spits on her. 

“Huh! I suppose I am,” Corrin muses, as if the thought’s just occurred to her, completely ignoring the spittle on her foot. “But if this is how Hoshido treats its princesses, it’s probably for the best that Ryoma wasn’t able to drag me back home. Speaking of my big brother! If I were to send you and your men back home, how do you think he would react to this? Because in Nohr, the punishment for an attempt on the life of a princess is execution. A very messy execution.”

What is Corrin doing? This is nothing like the Corrin that Azura once knew. Why is she doing this? Has Nohr changed her so much already?

Corrin steps off of the man’s chest and dusts herself off, then steps back a few feet to stand next to Azura. “So, which is it? Have your crimes been committed against Azura, Princess of Hoshido? And so I should accept your surrender and send you back to Hoshido to beg for mercy from your crown prince, who will surely understand the kidnapping and attempted murder of one of his baby sisters?”

She jauntily waves her Yato blade. “Or have your crimes been against Azura, Princess of Nohr, and so I should execute you and every one of your men right now with this sword?”

Azura had thought Corrin furious before, when Corrin had worked herself up so much on Azura’s behalf that she had needed a few moments to hug her dragonstone and breathe…

But this? This is more, somehow. This… cheerful, controlled, slowly simmering rage is so, so much worse.

Azura takes Corrin by the elbow and hisses, “What are you doing? You don’t have to do this for me. I thought you still wanted to build a peaceful world. Was I mistaken?”

But Corrin just smiles at her sadly, extricating herself from Azura’s grip and leaning in to whisper in her ear, “Please trust me.”