#ash you basically gave me all my obsessions help

[flufallo]

I've started to watch Julie and the PHANTOMS and now I have another gay ghost to add to my collection yay :)

[notsogreatpotoo]

my guy my girlboss my mushroom bud what ocs do you have please share them <3

hihihi i love u

this might be long as shit sorry

I will start with my son

Alder Scott is my OC for my hunger games fic (called Written In The Sand by nightjar_writing on ao3) and he is my child. I love him so much. He's a black kid from District 7 and his story starts when he is sixteen. He has a shit relationship with his parents but he absolutely adores his baby sister Ash, and he is really protective over anyone he gets attached to. He has a problem with interpreting or letting himself feel all of his emotions because he's often forced to repress emotions like anger and fear. I made a playlist for him. His only healthy coping mechanism is forcing himself to stop and take a few deep breaths every once in a while. He does embroidery. Reminders of his life and his trauma lurk around every corner. I have drawn him multiple times. Anything he does to escape leads him back down a parallel road. He's good at manipulating the Capitol but also gets manipulated pretty easily. He sucks at remembering names. He has so much trauma.

Emmet and Elliot are my time and dimension hopping self insert OCs. They're the characters I use to figure shit out; if I haven't written about a certain character, time period, fandom, AU, etc before (or in a while), I plop one of them into the world and see how their interactions go. Emmet is current me, hence the name, and tey came first as a way to cope with dysphoria. (Writing in third person about myself being gendered correctly helps bc I can't come out rn.) Elliot is child or teen me.

Dolohar currently lives in my head, but he's a trans man who became a god of irreversible change after being kidnapped and nearly sacrificed by a cult. The goddess the cult tried to summon was mistakenly called the goddess of blood, but she was actually the goddess of war, and she rescued him and gave him his godhood because she rarely has the chance to save innocents and she wasn't going to pass up the opportunity. Dolohar is brown with choppy black hair and eyes that appear orange in his more divine form. He's most commonly interpreted as a god of grief, and so he's associated with funeral flowers and mourning clothes, but he's scarred all over and some of his scars are visible no matter what he wears. A friend he had in his mortal life grows a bit too obsessive and starts a cult in his name, but Dolohar trusts his friend and doesn't realize this isn't normal god worship until after many people have been hurt.

I could make a whole post about a dormant WIP called Runaways and Soldiers, remind me to do that later bc that project has six main characters

Daisy also mostly lives in my head, but she's a trans girl in a coming of age romance story where she comes out to a guy she's been friends with basically forever and the more she starts to act more like herself around him the more he starts to fall for her. She loves blogging and playing video games.

Erch, Krit, and Seki all belong to the same story. Erch is a young human man who grew up in a militaristic organization as a recruiter in a world ravaged by radioactive aftereffects of a nuclear war. Mutations were common, but as someone born underground, Erch only has some adverse affects on his health. The underground was a mess of ongoing war and fortresses containing the super rich, but Erch was raised to believe that the organization was a safe haven that provides resources and work for all. It was only when he was a young teenager that his thoughts changed, because a girl with pointed ears and white freckles is rumored to have survived a white zone- zones that were the epicenter of nuclear impact, named for the blinding white flashes that occurred during detonation. He's sent on a suicide mission to investigate, and the girl presses a hand covered in light (aka, healing magic) to his uniform just before he leaves, which ultimately saves him from breaking down too soon. He discovers a portal in the white zone that leads him to a world in which elves, dwarves, and other mythical peoples are common, and while they are more resistant to radiation poisoning than humans, it is still affecting them to the point where all creatures living near the open portal take health potions or practice healing magic. Erch is then faced with a choice; does he risk condemning the world that he knows but one that is full of warlike, desperate, and corrupt people by closing the portal? or does he risk killing an entirely new world full of magic and people who have only shown kindness to him? It is at this time that he is taken in by Krit, a nonbinary goblin who was raised by a human witch a long time ago. Humans have become rarer and rarer ever since most of the portals between worlds closed, so Krit shields him from those who are too curious or obsessive about humans. Krit lives on the floor above their business (Taproot's Bar and Restaurant), but they're regularly harassed by dwarven customers (due to a series of wars that previously happened in the region called the Goblo-Dwarven Wars) and Erch doesn't want to add more stress to Krit's plate so he stays quiet about the portal situation and basically feels like he has to figure it all out himself until he has a breakdown one night and tells Krit, who reassures him that that's not the type of decision a child should have to make and a council made up of representatives from the surrounding regions eventually decide to close the portal after attempts to communicate with the humans on the other side end in attacks. As Erch grows up, he eventually becomes a vigilante type helper in his town after a corrupt leader is replaced by a pack of lycanthrope women. He's around thirty when he and Krit meet Seki, a young elf girl who was banished for becoming friends with a centaur (elves have hated the centaurs for centuries). Seki is chased into Taproot's after trying to pickpocket a group of dwarves (who also hate her on principle because the elves used to tax the dwarves) and she hides under a table. Krit is accused of hiding her on purpose when she comes out of the kitchen, the dwarves go to find the Guardian (aka, Erch), Erch finds Seki and returns the money to the dwarves, and Krit asks if Seki is hungry. Erch is wary of elves due to having a centaur friend who was killed by one, but once he hears Seki's story he no longer wants to turn her in and he bids them goodbye. Krit basically adopts Seki, and Erch eventually becomes a big brother figure to her and helps them sort out all the paperwork. Krit has never actually paid taxes. Erch is tired. Seki is glad to have a family.

Jasper Broadbank is a serial killer and amateur writer who swore off killing after becoming attached to his last target; he killed his fiance and now is reminded of that fact all the time because William Rexburgs's (his dead fiance's) family practically took him in after William's death (which they did not know he caused). He dies in a car accident after driving on icy roads, and the only ones who come to his funeral are the Rexburgs. He is guilt and manipulation and lying personified, and while his story needs a lot of editing since I wrote it my sophomore year of high school, it's a great example when showing how much better my writing is now.

Maxwell Anderson is a high school theater teacher by day, supervillain with a dramatic flair by night, and after finding out that his vigilante archnemesis is a child, he ends up parenting the boy from the sidelines while trying to execute his own plans and flirting with the boy's superhero mentor.

Nolan Cormier is part of an AU where the Avengers get a YouTube channel in order to control their image a little better and it butterfly effects the way for the Sokovia Accords to be thwarted before they're a big problem. Nolan is a marketing dude who works for Stark and gets caught up in their bullshit because he gets to know them through filming the videos and conducting interviews.

Ophelia Rousseau is a French woman who gets isekaied into the time right before the events of Phantom of the Opera and helps out Erik by writing an opera called cirque de l'éphémère, in which Honoré is a merchant who travels and sells his wares alongside a circus because it brings in the crowds, but falls in love with a beautiful acrobat in the show named Charlotte. Charlotte is the daughter of the strict old ringmaster, and she secretly longs to be away from the circus. When he confesses to her, she pretends to be in love with him to secure her freedom, and so they run away together and get married. Honoré notices that Charlotte has become distant and always wants to go out on trips and explore the world, and his insecurity turns him into a controlling, domineering type of husband. Charlotte, realizing that she has simply fled from one trap to another, tries to smuggle herself away in a chest he’s promised to another merchant, but she’s caught and poisoned to make a statement to her husband by the merchant, who thinks she’s been sent to trick him out of a good deal. Her body is sent back to Honoré, who is horrified to realize how he has driven her away and into more danger and slits his own throat. Basically, the opera forces Erik to confront his controlling attitude when it comes to Christine. Ophelia also is the reason why I know too much about enucleation, because her eye had to be taken out after an accident, and she wears an eye patch. She writes under the name Odin. She's a little pretentious, and a little standoffish, but mostly because she's never known how to act around other people.

thank u so much for this ask, if you ever want to hear more I will tell you, these are literally the OCs I could think of just off the top of my head bc I write a lot more fanfic than I do original fic but I have more lol

if you actually read this far you are the best :]

[cairoscene]

fic writer meme

thanks em @uhuraisgay and lore @megafaunatic for the tag <3

How many works do you have on Ao3?

between my accounts, a nice tame 18 total

2. What's your total Ao3 word count?

217,330 lol

3. What fandoms do you write for?

i definitely write for fewer fandoms than i'm in, so in the past it was mxtx danmei novels and now it's batman (current obsessions pending fic...)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

what else is there? (mdzs)

2. you'll know, you'll fall (tgcf)

3. send to all (batfam)

4. one word from you (mdzs)

5. to recollect and long for (mdzs)

the wangxian monopoly....

5. Do you respond to comments?

not anymore :( i used to respond to every comment i got, but it ended up being too much stress. so i read and appreciate every comment i get, but i only really respond if someone asks me a question or needs clarification on something

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

i don't really write unadulterated angst and i'm a lover of a happy ending, so i guess it would be bring the ashes to me......... my fic which famously has no ending at all...........and in fact leaves xie lian in a Pretty Bad Place.......... oops

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

probably you'll know, you'll fall, which i briefly reread not too long ago and. well. to those who continue to enjoy it, i treasure you. i will say i tied up every possible loose end in that fic including?? giving xl a job at sqx's hotel management firm????? let's just say i would do it differently now

8. Do you get hate on fics?

honestly no, never, just the occasional rude comment. i delete and move on

9. Do you write smut?

with varying degrees of success, yes. i like to think i've gotten better over time. writing porn is an aspect of craft that really fascinates and interests me, figuring out what i like to read vs what i like to write, balancing titillation with characterization and finding where the two lean in and kiss. half of my private bookmarks are random fics where the sex scenes just worked for me and i must squirrel it away to study under a microscope to figure out Why

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you have written?

not really, and i don't tend to read them, either. i think they're really hard to pull off successfully and generally my brain isn't on board with reconciling irreconcilable world-building aspects just for the fun of it

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

i don't think so? there was definitely...... a trend of let's call it Unattributed Inspiration in the mxtx fandoms, where any fic or tweeted idea or headcanon that got passed around would inevitably show up in the tag without attributing it to the originator. i remember reading a fic and enjoying it and then suddenly being like Wait...... why is this familiar? and discovering it was very clearly inspired by one of mine lol. i wouldn't call it plagiarism bc let's just all calm down, but it isn't a phenomenon i've encountered outside mostly mdzs fandom, let's put it that way

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes!!!!!! mostly russian and mandarin. i feel like being asked if someone can translate my fic (or podfic it) is the highest possible praise and i'm always very flattered

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

i was going to say no at first but then i remembered that @bluecrystalrainingdaggers helped me write a charity fic back when i wasn't really feeling wangxian but needed to fulfill on the charity raffle we ran. she basically gave me the outline and i wrote it and i would never have survived without her

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

i am a fickle creature, so i don't have one. i have ships i return to over the years when i crave a specific dynamic, like kirk/spock and wolfstar and damen/laurent. in general my ships fulfill a specific need i'm looking for, hualian for the comfort and care, ghostbat for sustainable toxic soulmates, [redacted] for the angst and misunderstandings, vashwood for the doomed clowns etc etc etc

15. What is a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

bring the ashes to me. sorry

16. What are your writing strengths?

i think i can write a good sex scene

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

plot :( dialogue :(((( sitting down to write at all :(((((((((

18. Thoughts of writing dialogue in another language in fics?

i feel like i don't have strong opinions on this front. it seldom bothers me but when it's done well it's a really great element

19. First fandom you wrote for?

on ao3, mdzs. on fanfiction.net the musketeers (2014) and that wizard one

20. Favorite fic you have written?

i'm really very fond of lover be good to me. it's one of my least accessible fics on account of the rarepair but i had a lot of fun writing it and i think the final product is pretty satisfying. i feel like i was able to say and explore everything about the ship i wanted to, which is really fulfilling

tagging @englishsub @vinelark @eggmacguffin @90kon @yuebings @floofyfluff @deadchannelradio and anyone else who wants to do it

[lilyflxwers]

10 books to get to know me

thank you lovelies @messrsage and @fruity-individual for the tag <3

as good as dead - holly jackson

this book will always be in my top ten because it made me love reading again. it’s a third book in a series and the other two were good but I loved this one so much bc I really enjoy true crime and normally plot twists in books like these aren’t hard to guess but this one surprised me lmao.

the hunger games - susanna collins

Ik this is a basic answer but these books changed my little 13 year old life lmao. I was convinced that I could easily be katniss (expect like yk i lack basic life skills and the idea of being hunted for amusement gives me so much anxiety, I would simply pass away from heart failure).

gone - michael grant

yeah so this series fucked me up at 14 and I’ve never reread it but I could pretty much tell you word for word what it said lmao. The whole, being stuck in an area where no one over the age of 15 survived really worried me phahah. Again I did, in fact, decide I would have survived fine.

Red queen - Victoria avery

This one gets an honourable mention bc it’s the reason I got all my ear piercings done. As you can tell, I can’t normally read a book and I have to pretend I’m a character bc yk that’s healthy (and also a lot of untreated trauma) iconic Ik. Anyways yeah I don’t remember tonnes about this series and I never read the last book bc I read the series and fixated on it before that one was written and then I forgot it ever existed.

Song of Achilles - Madeline miller

Yeah. This book tore my heart out and then stomped all over it and then stabbed it a few thousand times. I read this book in a very bad time in my life and it helped me find the beauty of simplicity. And then yk they all died so that fucked with me a little.

the CIA and the culture of failure - John diamond

Honourable mention bc it gave me a fucking good argument in my thesis.

blood ties - Sophie mckenzie

Would not recommend this if ur over the age of like 12 BUT at 12 this book was my whole entire existence. I wanted to be a clone so bad. I read and read and read this book until the spine was ripped. Which, if you know anything about me, is the worst thing that could happen to a book. And then I made my sister read it so we could pretend to be clones. bc yk that’s a totally normal thing to do.

my sisters keeper - Jodi picoult

this book. this fucking book. if you haven’t read it please do. i did my alevel English lit coursework on this and it made me CRY. I don’t wanna ruin it so i won’t say too much. but the ending broke my soul.

we need to talk about Kevin - lionel shriver

Speaking of my English alevel, I also spent a year studying this fucker so I feel like it should have an honourable mention. fuck me this was a tough read emotionally bc it’s written from the perspective of a school shooters mother, but also physically bc it’s an epistolary novel (which like if you like epistolary then soz)

the sisterhood of the travelling pants - ash brashares

this series was like the first “proper” series I read on my own when I was like nine and I became obsessed with it. Like to an unhealthy extent. to this day I refuse to watch the film bc I’m so worried it’ll ruin my little nine year old experience of reading it lmao.

I tag anyone who sees this bc I’ve taken forever to do this and idk who has and hasn’t been tagged lmao :)

[callsigndragon]

Hello, my beloved Darling!!! You still never cease to amaze me with all your works, so allow me to obsess over them, because they are so good!!!!

Tasting the Ashes Nightmares fade, memories don't is so so so emotional!!! I love it!

"“It was going to be a surprise, but you had to ask.”" - why am I not surprised that Rooster cannot keep secrets from Ash? 😂 Even though he was the one to plan it, hahaha. I love how all the women have the pover over their partners to get the all to confess their secrets!

"Ash has been around Rooster long enough to know that when he stays quiet like that, he’s done something he shouldn’t have." - aww, Ash being able to read Bradley so easily is such a lovely touch. I know they spent enough time around one another for this to happen, but it still warms heart so much 💗

Again, needed self-restraint not to copy-paste the whole nightmare sequence. It is brilliant!!!! The mixture of the events and the present and Steve changing into Bradley in the dream is incredible and the twins being added into it all is just peak tension and pressure and drama and I love it!!! It is so, so, so well done!!! Incredible!!!

"“Are you here with me?” He asks, voice tight and eyes darting over your body, as if looking for any sign of harm." - and then this beautiful darling being all soft and protective and worried!!! I am melting!!! So beautiful transition from the dream to reality as well! 🥹💗

"“And the worst part is that I’m glad he died.”" - okay, Ash seriously needs a big, wholesome hug. From multiple people. It's a good thing that Mav specialises in having traumatised children and had plenty of time to practice with Jake. And that Penny is basically a badass sweatheart. And that the entirety of the Dagger family is up for group hugs as well. They can give poor darling Ash a great, well-deserved hug.

"“Want to stop talking about this and go back to sleep?”" - the attentive sweetness of Bradley Bradshaw is getting to me. I love him! 🥹💗

"He's not like that. He wants to help you, not destroy you." - oh my goodness, so much trauma these two have to get through together, I love it!!!! 💗

""Being glad of your abuser's death doesn't mean you're a bad person, Hen.”" - he called her Hen!!! My heart!!! So sweet!!! 💗

"Bradley sighs, letting his upper body fall into the mattress. “Sometimes it feels like this world takes more strength than it gave me.”" - aww, poor Bradley, he needs some hugs too

"“Oh, I can tell by the middle names you got for the babies.” You retort, lying down and covering yourself with the blankets.", "“Hey, they’re cool! I know a few people that will cry when they find out about them.”" - I am so interested!!!

"How can a man who has gone through so much be so gentle and caring? How can that poor tortured soul be taking care of three human beings when he’s the one that should be taken care of?" - these are such beautiful and heartbreaking questions 🥹💗

"“Thank you, Mama Hen.” The name makes you chuckle and shake your head. “Good night.”", "“Good night, Rooster.”" - awww, they are so sweet, I love them!!! 💗💗

This whole chapter is incredible and unique and beautiful and has so many emotions so masterfully blended together!!! Absolutely breathtakingly amazing my Darling!!! 💗💗💗

Loving the Moodboard for Gina!!! "Seduce and destroy" - 👀 I am so excited for all the drama that she brings!!!

And the Valentine's Cards?!?!?!? Perfect, impeccable, 1000000% accuratr and valid, amazing, hilarious, perfe-... Yeah, love them!!! 💗

"It's a Pacific Rim x Top Gun crossover. I have lots of things to write, lota of things to decide... it's an exciting whole new universe!" - O.M.G!!!!!!! THIS IS SUCH A COOL IDEA!!!!!! It never crossed my mind to put these two together, but it makes perfect sense!!!!! You are a GENIOUS!!!!!! AHHH!!! This is gonna be incredible!!!!! 💗💗💗

My Darling, you are awesome. You keep knocking me off my feet with your talent and genious ideas and unique and incredible storytelling. You are amazing. Love you and sending you so much love and hugs!!! 💗💗💗💗💗💗

(italics anon 💚)

P.S.: thank you so much for these absolute gems even though you are on hiatus. And do not feel pressured to write my Lovely, only do it if you feel up to it, and take all the time you need!!! 💗💗💗

"“It was going to be a surprise, but you had to ask.”" - why am I not surprised that Rooster cannot keep secrets from Ash? 😂 Even though he was the one to plan it, hahaha. I love how all the women have the pover over their partners to get the all to confess their secrets!

L I S T EN. I've seen it. When you're with the 'right' person (if that even exists) it comes to the point that you can just know when they're planning something, they're hiding something, or they're lying about something. I love showing that in my stories and I love that you notice it!

It's a good thing that Mav specialises in having traumatised children and had plenty of time to practice with Jake

I SHOULDN'T HAVE LAUGHED THE WAY I DID WHEN I READ THIS HAHAHAHAHAH

"It's a Pacific Rim x Top Gun crossover. I have lots of things to write, lota of things to decide... it's an exciting whole new universe!" - O.M.G!!!!!!! THIS IS SUCH A COOL IDEA!!!!!! It never crossed my mind to put these two together, but it makes perfect sense!!!!! You are a GENIOUS!!!!!! AHHH!!! This is gonna be incredible!!!!! 💗💗💗

I can't take the credit for that, I wish I was that smart, but I saw someone a while ago writing about it. I can't remember who it was, but a few days ago I saw the movies again and I remembered that someone wrote about it, and I thought... why not? And here we are!

Thank you for the amount of love I get from you, love. It makes it all so much better 💚💚💚💚

[nostalgiatrip2010]

So I'm gonna start off this nostalgia trip with introducing the stars of this madness, the two that started it all for my adventures in Humanformers; Shatter & Darkshadow!!

To start with a tad bit of context, these girls are clones of Starscream and Knockout. Ikr, how original?! But trust me there's a bit more to it, I don't wanna go too deep into that just yet, this post is to give you an idea of their appearance for now 😉

Until I can get my hands on a tablet, I've been experimenting with different art styles and looks for them. Still trying to get the hang of colouring and drawing certain features lol, so for now I'm gonna leave y'all with these sketches of my girls. With a few notes on my progress 😁

With Shatter's old design, it was very basic to say the least. Ash white hair, with a single Red stripe down the front cut into a bob, topped off with an undercut. Red bra-like tank top and matching pants, with a sheer mesh sweater.

Idk what I was thinking when I gave her this outfit, I guess my young brain just thought it was cute and it wasn't until I got older I realised, "isn't she, like, 9-10 y.o?" So yeah, probs not very appropriate to be having a literal child character getting around almost half naked.

I think the reason I had her dress like this is because in my head at the time, Shatter was the rebellious older sister type and I assumed thats how those types of kids dressed. Not to mention, going out on missions and training, it's loose, breathable and easy to move around the battlefield in.

Being Knockout's counterpart, I wanted Darkshadow to reflect that prim and proper side of him. Long red hair, often tied up in a ponytail and side part bangs. A cute little crimson dress with black puffed sleeves.

Darkshadow has a cutesy, almost cottage-core vibe to her outfit and you can't have a literal Knockout clone and not have her irrationally obsess over a certain feature she puts a lot of effort into, for this little lady that would be her hair and nails. Primus help the poor soul who dares mess up her perfect ponytail or chip her nail polish.

Much like Shatter's old design I kept it sweet and simple (and more age appropriate). But unlike Shatter's, I always liked Darkshadow's design and I haven't changed it much as you'll see in the next picture.

This one here is my most recent redesign of the two. As I said, Darkshadow doesn't change much in terms of her outfit. The most I've added is a gold bow in her hair, sometimes switched with a simple headband, and a matching belt. I don't know if these additions to her outfit are too much, so lemme me know what you think 😊 constructive criticism is always appreciated.

Shatter's outfit has changed completely. She's now rocking a spaghetti strap top, with different grey patterns and red accents. The only part of her old outfit I kept was the sheer mesh sweater, coz I know it's af cold on the Nemisis. I wanted to be more faithful to Starscreams actual colour scheme and robot pattern. Even her hair has changed into a slicked back pixie cut.

I can't think of anything else I can add to the girls for now but, as stated before, any constructive criticism and questions are welcome 🤗

[lucyintheskywithxanax]

Fangs

Pairing: Wilhemina Venable x Fem Reader

A/N: so this piece can either be read as a oneshot or as a sort of sequel to “Get Me To Church”, but in a different style. Basically I got obsessed with the idea that the Outpost residents could stand up to Wilhemina and question her rules and you guys, the POTENTIAL FOR ANGST. As always, English isn’t my first language, so expect a few weird sentences. x

Word count: ~ 8 200

It started small. One morning Venable smiled at you for no reason and Coco saw it. Coco raised her eyebrows teasingly at you and poked your shoulder. Innocent, playful, amused.

You didn’t understand that smile at first, for it was so unlike Venable. It didn’t go with the rest of her. She was all sharp angles that scratched and made the skin bleed, rough edges, snarky comments, bites and claws. Not kind smiles shared in corridors. So you wondered, and Coco raised her eyebrows.

You couldn’t forget it, her smile. It haunted you, followed you like your shadow. It had been beautiful. You wanted so badly to see it again. So you tried making jokes when you knew she could hear them. Not-so-very-clever jokes, corny jokes, that made Andre and Kyle laugh but left Venable’s face completely blank. You stared at the floor and pinched your arm.

Then one evening when you were so, so bored, Andre and you danced to that silly song that played every day over and over like the reminder of a curse. He dipped you, and you laughed, and met Venable’s eyes. Her face was upside-down, but you saw it. That smile again. You recognized it at once because it bore none of her usual coldness and sarcasm. It was genuine. It was fond. It made your heart swell.

Probably there were a few surprised glances shared between the others. Maybe Coco raised her eyebrows again. You did a clumsy pirouette and took a bow as the song came to an end.

One morning Venable told you you looked good today. No sarcasm. No mockery. As if she genuinely meant it. Kyle was nearby, and he heard her. Perhaps he even saw the softness in her eyes. Perhaps he didn’t. But he heard her, and that was enough.

They were whispering when you walked into the music room. Coco gestured for you to sit next to her. She leaned over your shoulder and whispered into your ear, “Watch out, Y/N. We think she’s into you.” Gallant nodded solemnly and said, “Good luck. Scream if you need help. We’re a team. In this together. ”

The day after that was when things really did change. You snapped at Venable in front of the others. Actually snapped at her, questioned her rule about copulation, said the two Greys she had had shot for loving each other had not deserved death. Coco and Gallant looked truly impressed. They also stared at you as if it were the last time they were seeing you alive.  

You wondered that night whether you had given up on life the day the world ended. You waited for someone to come get you and shoot a bullet through your brain or throw you out of the Outpost. Nothing happened. So the next morning when you sat down for breakfast, the others fell silent. They stared at you. You stared at them. None of you really understood why you were still here. Then Gallant’s mouth opened, just a bit, as if he had realized something. He was about to speak when Venable walked into the room and announced you would now have board games nights. For fun.

That was her first mistake. Part of you knew it, even then, but that part was obliterated by the tidal wave of joy and hope and love that swelled inside you and crashed all over your heart, sprinkling fragments of light and fragments of shining blue everywhere.  

Andre snapped at her. Rose to his feet to confront her. No one had done it before but you, and you had gotten away with it. So why not him?

Something quaked slightly when Andre rose. You told yourself it was the ground. You knew you were wrong.

All Venable had to do was stand her ground and scowl for Andre to relent. He took a step back and lowered his head in defeat. And you saw the spark of victory in Venable’s eyes, saw the satisfaction and pride. You admired her. You feared her.  

Later that day you made small talk with her. Just to get to know her better. What did she like? What did she dream of? were questions you tried to smuggle in. You assumed a nonchalant expression and pretended to study your nails. You almost forgot what she had done to the two Greys when you met her eyes and sank into the black. It was black spattered with light, like stars in the night sky.

At one point you reached out with the intention of playfully poking her shoulder. But your hand froze midway, and you pursed your lips, pretended you had meant to sweep the dust off the arm of your chair.

“I do believe we should vote for our leader,” Gallant said one evening. “Aren’t we still a democracy?”

“I’m not sure we are,” Andre sneered.

“What the hell you guys, we’re not,” Coco stated.

“Well, as I said, we should vote for our leader,” Gallant repeated.

The idea wasn’t mentioned again for a few days, but it hid in the silence and the shade and never disappeared.

And you saw them scowl at Venable’s back. You heard them whisper to each other when she wasn’t there. Again, the ground quaked.

**

Late one evening, you were startled by a knock on your door. You were in your pajamas, and your hair was still wet from the shower, but you figured it must be Coco visiting you out of boredom. She was your friend, and you didn’t mind not looking your best with her.

It wasn’t Coco. It was Venable.

There was a very, very awkward moment as she ran her eyes up and down your body and you tried hard not to blush.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” she said eventually. Her face was completely blank.

“You’re not bothering me,” you mumbled. “I wasn’t doing anything at all.”

You couldn’t read her. You couldn’t see through her façade. Was she amused? Nervous? You shifted your weight from one foot to the other and folded your arms on your chest.

“How are you doing?” she asked.

Your mouth fell open. What kind of question was that? Never in your time at the Outpost – months that had felt like years – had she ever taken the time or the trouble to ask any of the residents how they were doing. And now – first there had been her smile. Then the board games nights, trying to keep you all entertained. And that question.

Was she actually… trying to be nice?

Silence stretched as you processed her words, until she snapped defensively, “What?”

“Oh, uh.” You fumbled for the right words to say. “Fine, I’m doing fine.” You tried to laugh. “I mean, I’m very bored. Like, all the time. But everyone is. Except you, I guess,” you added uneasily. “Because you’re so busy running the place. And all that.”

“Is there anything you can think of that could help you pass the time?” she asked.

A make-out session would be nice, said a voice in your head. You glanced at her lips.

“Well,” you said,” I’ve run out of things to read. I did pack a few books before coming here, but not enough as it turns out.”

“I can help you with that. I’ve got quite a few of my own.”A pause. “You can borrow some. They’re in my room.”

“In your room?” you heard yourself repeat.

Venable nodded. You glanced at her lips again. When you met her eyes, you thought maybe they were a bit darker than before.

“Ok,” you breathed.

It was her second mistake, even though you didn’t realize it at the time. For Gallant saw you. Barefoot and in your pajamas, walking into Venable’s room. He saw how her hand almost brushed your back but didn’t, as if she were too afraid to touch. He saw her close the door behind you.

**

Venable lent you two books you had not yet read. You held them to your chest as if they were a treasure, not so much because of the escape they promised you, but because they were hers. Her fingers had touched those pages, her eyes had read those words. You opened one book and buried your nose in it, hoping her perfume had lingered on the paper.

You spent the next day reading and ignoring the other residents. Your head was buzzing with words by the time you made your way back to your room, so you didn’t see Venable coming from the other end of the corridor until she stopped mere inches from you.

Her gaze locked with yours. You were vaguely aware of the smile that bloomed on your face – a grin, really, that you could feel tugging at the corner of your lips. The world around you vanished. Venable titled her head on the side, and her mouth twisted as if she were holding back a smile of her own.

For a long moment none of you spoke. You just stood staring at each other as if waiting for something to happen, until Venable’s smile spilled on her lips and you thought you saw a faint blush adorn her cheeks. But maybe it was just the candlelight.  

“Hey,” you finally blurted out. You brought a hand up to your hair nervously. “Uh, I wanted to tell you – to thank you, really. For the books.”

Venable gave you a nod. “You’re welcome.”

“And also for the board games nights. They’re really fun. They help making those dreadful evenings, well, a bit less dreadful. Everyone loves them.” That was a lie. Coco and Andre hated board games nights, even more so as they had been Venable’s idea. Kyle and Ash didn’t care much for them, either. But they meant the world to you. They were the proof that somewhere deep behind the cruelty and the sarcasm, kindness lay shy and hesitant in Venable’s soul.

Silence, as you racked your brain for something else to say. You didn’t want her to go just yet.

“Uh, you know,” you eventually spoke, “I was thinking, if you want to borrow some of my own books while I have yours, well, I wouldn’t mind.”

Was this a stupid offer? It sounded stupid to you. You lowered your gaze, biting the inside of your cheek.

“I’d love that,” Venable answered. You looked up at her. She smiled, fond and kind. You melted.

“Okay, great, uh, okay,” you laughed nervously. “Okay.” A pause. “Uh, if you’d follow me?”

You led the way to your room and fumbled with your key for a while. As Venable walked in, you couldn’t help but feel self-conscious. Your room wasn’t near as neat and tidy as hers. Clothes that had been carelessly taken off lay like dead bodies on the floor. Your bed wasn’t made.

Venable’s eyes scanned the room, but she refrained from making any comment. As she sat down on your bed, though, she automatically reached out to rearrange your pillows.

“You sure love to keep things in order,” you teased.

Venable hummed. “Order’s the only reason why we were able to make progress as a species. There’s nothing more valuable. That, and control. If you cannot control other people, they’ll destroy you.”

You frowned as you considered her words. “I’m not sure I agree with that.”

“Well, think it over. People are essentially rabid dogs. Loosen your grip on them and they’ll jump on you and tear off your throat.” There was no hesitation in her voice, no room for doubt. She looked up at you as if she thought she had just entrusted you with some secret universal truth, and she expected you to behave accordingly.

“I’m not sure I agree with that, either,” you replied.

She narrowed her eyes at you.”Well then, you’re a fool.”

You shrugged. “Maybe I am. Or maybe one day you’ll allow yourself to trust someone, and you’ll realize trust and kindness are more efficient than control.”

You opened your wardrobe to avoid meeting her gaze. You could still feel it, though, leaving marks like burns on your face. Your books were in a suitcase in the bottom of the wardrobe. You picked it up and set it on the bed.

“Here,” you said, still avoiding Venable’s eyes. “Make your choice.”

You sat down on the bed, keeping a safe distance between her and you. You let a moment pass before you dared glancing up at her. She was busy studying your books, not paying you the slightest attention. So you relaxed, and stared at her.

You wondered what she would look like in the sun. Would her eyes be of a lighter brown, her hair a brighter red? You wanted to see her against the blinding flickers of light on the sea waves, and what she looked like when she was staring up at the stars, or when she was lost in a storm with the wind messing up with her hair, her eyes bright, her cheeks red.

She glanced sideways, met your eyes. You immediately lowered your head and cleared your throat.

“You should take this one,” you said, nodding at the book she was holding – you had no idea which one it was. “It’s very good.”

“Oh, it is,” she answered – was that laughter you could hear in her voice? “The main character, what is he again, a surfer? And the descriptions of the sea are the most beautiful I’ve ever read.”

“I know, right? Unparalleled. So very poetic.”

Venable bit down on a smile as she raised the book to show you its cover. The Heart Is A Lonely Hunter. You almost burst out laughing.

“A surfer,” Venable smiled, shaking her head.

“Ok, you got me.” You turned your head away from her to hide your reddening cheeks. “I had no idea which book you were talking about.”

“Um. Seems you were staring at something else.”

Why was the room suddenly so hot? Had a demon just barged in and brought with him fires from Hell? Your face was burning.

“I actually really like it,” you said to change the subject. “The book, I mean.”

You risked another glance at her. She was flipping through the book, a dreamy smile on her face. It was the first time you were seeing her so relaxed. She looked almost at peace. And younger, freer and wiser, as if she had finally set down a heavy burden. Was this what she looked like when her walls were down?

You wanted to see her with her hair down and no make-up on.

She found a passage you had highlighted, read it, blinked, read it again out loud. “The way I need you is a loneliness I cannot bear.” Her eyes met yours. “Who knew you were such a romantic,” she teased. Your eyes flicked to her lips.

She picked up another book – Virginia Woolf, To The Lighthouse – and flipped through it until she found another highlighted passage. “With stars in her eyes and veils in her hair, with cyclamen and wild violets…“She paused to glance to you. You leaned towards her. “Stepping through fields of flowers,” she read on, “and taking to the breast buds that had broken and lambs that had fallen; with the stars in her eyes and the wind in her hair.” Her voice had become a mere whisper. She ran her finger down the page, a gentle caress, as if it were a lover.  

After a moment she cleared her throat. “I think I’ll take this one,” she said.

“Very good choice,” you whispered.

She turned her head to look at you. And perhaps it was the wild violets. Perhaps it was her face, or how big her eyes were, as if they wished to suck up the whole world and you with it and perhaps you were a bit too eager to lose yourself in their depths. You leaned in, dropped a kiss on her lips like a flower.

It was short, merely a peck. It ended before you even knew it had begun. It lasted forever, made the stars fall from the sky, the oceans sweep over land. It irremediably shattered your heart and made it whole again.

You had absolutely no idea how Venable would react. You were half expecting a slap in the face. But instead she gripped your wrist and planted a sweet kiss on your lips. Like payback. It stole all the air from your lungs.

She pulled away, made as if to lean in again; hesitated, as one about to dive into the ocean from a cliff pulls up short at the very last second. Craving the fall, but too afraid the impact would hurt too much.

You chased after her with a “Trust me” falling from your lips, but she tilted her head away from you.

Venable let go of your wrist and sat up. She closed the book. One of her hands came up to play with her earring.

You drew in a shaky breath to try and clear your head. Your heart had gone mad and your body felt like it was about to dissolve into liquid and spill down the bed to form a pool of rosewater at her feet.

“Thank you,” Venable said, lifting the book. “I’ll take this one.”

You smiled. “Try not to fall too hard for Mrs Ramsay.”  

She hummed absentmindedly. Hand tugging at her earring. You held your breath.

“I should go,” she said eventually. She grabbed her cane and stood up.

At the door she paused. “I, uh,” she said. Her eyes when they found yours were hopeful. “Thank you,” she repeated. “For the book.”

You nodded, and grinned at her.

**

“Watch out, here comes the dragon,” Coco whispered as Venable entered the music room.

Everyone looked up at her, but you were the only one who dared meet her eyes. She gave you a small smile and walked towards Coco.

When she spoke, her voice was more amiable than you had ever heard it, but there was a strain to it, too, as if she were unable to fully hide her contempt. “How have you been adjusting to your new life at the Outpost?” she asked Coco.

That drew everyone’s attention. You frowned in surprise.

Coco stared at her. “Are you considering a new career as a therapist?” she retorted.

“It is part of my job to make sure everyone here is doing as well as they can,” Venable replied in the same amiable voice.

“Terrible,” Coco blurted out, “it’s been terrible. I’m starving to death, I’m so bored I’m losing all my wits, and if I don’t get to lie in the sun very soon my complexion will turn grey.” She paused to take a breath. “But you know what would make me happy? To wear normal clothes. And don’t you have more of that meat you cooked for us once? Oh and for the love of God, why don’t you let me orgasm one more time before I die?” Her voice oscillated between anger and sarcasm. When she stopped talking, her eyes widened a bit, as if she couldn’t quite believe her own boldness.

“None of those things are negotiable,” Venable answered, most of her amiability gone now.

Andre let out a mirthless laugh. “What a surprise,” he said bitterly.

“Those rules were made to ensure your survival,” Venable snapped.

In former days, her snapping would have been enough to drain the fight out of Andre. In former days, Venable only had had to glare for protest to die down. She was a born tyrant, Kyle had said once. Naturally gifted to instill fear in others.

But things were different now. She had been willing to show kindness. She had smiled at you and her smile had been genuine. She had loosened her grip, just slightly.

“Bullshit,” Andre growled. He stood up.

Something flicked across Venable’s face you had never seen before. Something that looked exactly like fear. Andre saw it.

He took a step towards her and raised his voice.”I think those rules are bullshit. And I think you know it. Why should we follow them if you don’t? Gallant saw you,” he spat out. ”He saw you open your door to your little pet the other night.”

For a moment there was only silence. You leaned back into your seat, trying to make yourself as small as possible. And then Venable raised her left hand and slapped Andre in the face. Hard. The sound echoed off the walls.

Andre stumbled back and deflated. But he had set an example, and the others were only too eager to pick up the torch. As a line of soldiers advances when the first has succumbed, Ash spoke out.

“Why don’t you come to my room and spend the night, Kyle?” she said, proud and confident.

“Now you guys, wait a minute,” you heard yourself say, “we didn’t –“

“I’d be delighted,” Kyle cut you off. He grabbed Ash’s hand and bent to kiss her knuckles.  

“Andre, my bed’s all yours,” Gallant said in a singsong.

Coco let out a loud laugh. “Party night!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. “Let’s all be disgusting sinners tonight!”

Venable tapped her cane on the floor. Loud. Threatening. Coco stiffened and fell silent. And Venable almost smiled, because she still had so much power over them, so much control, and she would be damned before she let it slip through her fingers –

Gallant charged at Venable with his hands clenched into fists as if he meant to hit her. He had almost reached her when he changed his mind, stopped dead in his tracks, and scurried away from her. But his voice thundered, “What are you gonna do, uh? Shoot me? I’m royalty! I’m wearing fucking purple, babydoll!” He opened his arms and grinned like a mad man. “And anyway we outnumber you, bitch! Don’t you ever fucking forget that!”

And with that he left the room.

The others scowled at Venable for a few seconds before they, too, one by one, got up and left. Coco stopped in the doorway and turned. “Come on, Y/N,” she called.

You met Venable’s eyes. They were as unreadable as ever. You waited, hoping for something, some emotion, that would give you a reason to stay. But she merely glared at you, standing tall and confident as if nothing had happened. Just the way she had looked when she had sentenced those two Greys to death.

You lowered your gaze, stood up, and followed Coco out of the room.

**

“What the hell just happened?” Coco laughed nervously.

Gallant was jumping up and down like an excited child. “The end of an era!” he exclaimed triumphantly.

You stared at them. They were your friends. You were a team, in this together. Coco draped an arm around your shoulders and grinned at you.

“Man, that felt good,” you heard Gallant said. He shook his head and shoulders as a dog does to get dry.

A team, you reminded yourself. You were in this together. You gave Coco’s hand a squeeze.

**

“We’re going to hold an election.”

Venable raised her eyebrows contemptuously.”An election?” she repeated, as if it were the most ludicrous thing she had ever heard.

Gallant nodded. “A vote. To choose who will lead us.”

Venable let out a short, incredulous laugh. Her eyes went from one face to the other. “Excuse-me,” she scoffed, “you must have gone mad, or else I didn’t hear you correctly.”

“We’re holding an election,” Gallant enunciated, “to choose who will lead us.”

Venable’s face hardened. “No you’re not,” she said.

“Try us,” Gallant growled.

“And how exactly are you going to run this place without knowing anything about the Cooperative’s plans?”Venable sneered.

“We’ll figure things out. We’ll be better at it than you ever were.”

“My work here has been more than excellent,” Venable snapped. “It’s the only reason why you’re still alive.”

“Tell that to Stu,” Andre interrupted. “And to those two poor Greys you killed.”

Venable’s eyes flicked to you, almost questioningly, as if she were asking for advice. You were too ashamed to hold her gaze. You stared down at the floor.

When Venable spoke again, her voice dripped with the same strained amiability she had used when addressing Coco the day before. “If you’d like, I could go over my reasons for such a punishment.”

Andre let out a low growl, baring his teeth. Venable didn’t flinch, didn’t let out the slightest sign of alarm; but you did, because you knew what she was doing, and you knew it would fail. You were the one who’d told her to try. Be kind. Trust in other people’s kindness.  

You opened your mouth to speak, but before you had time to let out more than one word, Andre barked at Venable. “We will hold an election. Tomorrow, in this very room. And you will be held accountable for the three people you ruthlessly murdered.”

“Soon to be four, you can count on that,” Venable spat back.

She was brave, you had to give her that. She glared right into Andre’s eyes as he yelled at her and frothed at the mouth, and Coco and Gallant and the others closed in on her like a pack of wolves. She didn’t blink, didn’t falter, didn’t seem the least bit scared. She simply waited for their wrath to subside, for the jaws to slacken and the muscles to relax.      

It did subside. It always does. Andre stood panting at a loss for words, and Venable tapped her cane on the floor.

“Is your pitiful tantrum over?” she gibed. She took a step forward, and he leaned away from her.”Now you hear me out. There will be no election. You wouldn’t last a day without my management and deep down in that useless, childish brain of yours you know it.” Venable smirked. “Now back off.”

Andre hesitated, clenched his teeth, took a few steps back. Venable’s eyes swept the room contemptuously. Her gaze lingered on your face a second too long. Those were the same eyes that had smiled at you and sparkled with stars and softened at the mention of cyclamen and wild violets. Now they were pitch black and so frighteningly cold.

Contradictory feelings were waging war on each other in your head. Too many successive victories and defeats, Guilt crowned winner and the second after stabbed to death by Anger who was immediately dethroned by Love, betrayed by Fear banished by Regret with the help of Guilt murdered by – it was too much. You could have banged your head on the walls and painted them red with your blood.    

You prayed for numbness. You walked down a corridor, up a staircase, down another corridor, completely oblivious to your surroundings. Andre and the other residents would not relent, you were certain of that. But neither would Venable, and she had half a dozen armed minions under her control. But what if the Purples asked the Greys for help? A few words and promises exchanged behind a closed door would be enough to constitute an army. Guns wouldn’t matter, then. As Gallant had said, Venable and the guards would be greatly outnumbered and easily overthrown.

And what were you to do? You didn’t like Venable’s rules, didn’t think they were fair but you had seen her. Caught a glimpse of her and loved what you had seen and knew you would never tire of it just as you’d never tire of sunsets. There wasn’t a single universe in which you’d be okay with her getting hurt.      

Someone grabbed your shoulder and shoved you against the wall. You winced in pain, tried to push them away, but an elbow dug into your collarbone and kept you in place.

“Why, hello there,” Venable hissed in your face.

“What the –“

“Are you and your little friends having fun?” She gave you another shove, and your shoulders slammed into the wall.

“You’re hurting me!” you cried out.

“Good,” Venable snarled, but her grip on you loosened.

You met her eyes, shivered at the anger you saw burning in them. Fear washed over you, but was soon replaced by something else, something much worse – guilt.

“Look,” you mumbled, “I –“

“I expect you to answer me when I ask you a question,” Venable growled. “Are you and your friends having fun?”

You fumbled for words, tears springing to your eyes. “I’m not – I didn’t –“

“You didn’t what?” she snapped, cruelty ringing loud in her voice. “Think? Meant for anything bad to happen? Aren’t you the most feeble-minded moron I ever had the displeasure to meet!”

She waited for an answer, but you couldn’t give her one. Your tongue was too thick, your mouth too dry.

“Damn it Y/N this is all your fault!” Venable cried. And this time there was no cruelty. This time you heard her voice waver, and saw the fear spill into her eyes.

It felt like the floor had vanished from under your feet. Without Venable’s grip on your shirt you would have collapsed.    

“I know,” you whispered brokenly, tears dropping from your eyes. “I’m so sor –“

“Oh, Ms Venable,” she mocked in a high-pitched voice, “you should really try and be kind. Oh, Ms Venable, trust me Ms Venable.” She gave you another push, but it was weak. “Well I fucking did and you walked out of that room with them!”

Her voice broke. It seemed to surprise her, for she recoiled and winced. And then her emotions were back under control, eyes hard and cold, voice colder still.

“As it turned out I was right,” she snapped. “Show kindness and the dogs come barking.”

You shook your head, let out a sob. Please no. You hadn’t wanted any of this, hadn’t meant to hurt her, to put her in danger. You’d encouraged her to put down her sharpest sword, her largest shield – and she had been willing to try, only to see her efforts backfire and blow up in her face. And you – you had walked away. You had left her to deal with the aftermath. You had irremediably broken the hope that’d shone in her eyes the day you had dropped a kiss on her lips.

You had no idea how to make things right again. And why on Earth was she even taking the trouble to talk to you? Why hadn’t she had you shot yet, made sure to get rid of you for good? Why had she ever smiled at you?

You wanted to hug her. To wrap her up in your arms nice and tight, kiss her cheek, promise her you’d keep her safe. You would wish it with all you had so it would have to come true. She would hear the honesty and the love in your voice and everything would be alright.

You couldn’t see very well through your tears, but it seemed to you her arm twitched, as if she wanted to reach out, as if she, too, was craving touch. She bit her lip, and looked away, and her eyes were too watery so you lifted your hand to stroke her cheek. Her breath hitched and she batted your hand away, her fingers slamming into yours.  

“Don’t you dare,” she warned, a quaver in her voice; her eyes looking everywhere but at you, her shoulders bending, and you tried to reach out again so she gave you another shove, and another, and another until she let out a noise like an angry, broken cry, leaned in and pressed her forehead against your chest.  

She gave in for three seconds, maybe five. Then she sighed and pulled back, and you were left with only a memory of her warmth and scent, your hand up where her head had been but your fingers threading through nothing but air.  

**

You tried to sleep that night but couldn’t. At one point you dozed off, and when you opened your eyes next your body was covered with sweat and your heart was beating too fast. You tried reading one of the books Venable had lent you. Five minutes later you were curled up in a tight ball and crying your eyes out.

The morning after you met with the other residents in the music room. Gallant was in a very good mood. Ash and Kyle were exchanging suggestive glances. You thought maybe Coco told you a story about something that had happened to her in her youth. Maybe you had half a food cube for breakfast. Then at one point Gallant raised both his arms and said something about voting. He had barely finished talking when Venable sauntered into the room and someone gasped, and then someone else shouted in alarm and you didn’t understand why until you saw the gun in Venable’s hand.

And her eyes were piercing, and her face was completely blank, and her hand wasn’t shaking when she pointed the gun at Gallant’s head.

But that’s not what happened. It couldn’t be, could it? Rewind.

Coco had stopped in the doorway and called after you. You had pretended not to hear. When she had called again, you’d stood up and planted yourself defiantly beside Venable. And Coco hadn’t even looked that surprised.

That night Venable had kissed you again, longer, bolder, giggling into your mouth. You had seen her with her hair down and no make-up on. In the morning she had counted the freckles on your shoulders. And you two had lain in bed staring into each other’s eyes, that beautiful, fond smile of hers creeping up her lips over and over again.

Better, so much better. Please, rewind.

Venable – Wilhemina now, Mina, darling – had made peace with the other residents. She had agreed to make some of her rules more flexible, and they had renounced holding the election. Coco had given you a pat on the shoulder, for she was your friend. You were a team, in this together. Venable had reached out for your hand, laced your fingers together.

The colours drained from Gallant’s face. He took a step back and held out his hands.

“What the fuck is going on?” Coco cried out. She made to scurry away, but she bumped against a chair and grabbed hold of your arm to steady herself. Her grip brought you back to the present.

“Wow wow wow, hold on,” Andre shouted.

“Ms Venable”, you heard yourself say.

She didn’t seem to hear any of you.

“Ms Venable,” you repeated. (Wilhemina, Mina, darling)

Venable blinked and looked at you, her gaze surprisingly calm and confident. You held out your hands and took one step towards her. “Please,” you begged – your hands were shaking – “please, put the gun down.”

Venable redirected her attention to Gallant. He whimpered, and Venable smirked.

“Ms Venable, put the gun down,” you tried again. She ignored you. “Wilhemina, please.”

Her eyes met yours, and you saw part of her resolve falter, but then her face hardened again as if to say, If I do, what then? This, is not a gun but the last rope tying me to safety. This is me holding control back before it runs away and hides where I can’t reach it. Would a shipwrecked sailor puncture their own lifebuoy to drown in the sea? And pray, she asked you, what do I have to lose if I pull the trigger? It’d be nothing compared to what would happen if I don’t. Safety would be ripped from me, safety not only from physical harm but also and most importantly from prying eyes and sneering mouths, from judgment, pity, disappointment and mockery. Pray, what do I have to lose if I pull the trigger?

Me, you answered boldly. You’d lose me. Maybe it’s not good enough a reason, maybe I’m just being pretentious, but you’d lose me and away with me would walk love, and care, and recovery. And I am sorry. I am crawling at your feet pouring apologies. I am braiding promises and dreams into your hair. I am smearing words of devotion on your mouth and saving the truest, the most rapturous of them – I adore you – to be whispered to your heart so it can mend itself. Tell me, darling, can I be enough?

Wilhemina’s arm was shaking. Stone-faced and afraid, she looked at Gallant, saw the hope in his eyes and the anger behind the hope that promised he would be cruel. Her aim lowered from his head to his chest. Gallant’s shoulders straightened. Two seconds passed, and Wilhemina’s eyes veiled over as she put the gun down.

It seemed everyone in the room released their breaths at the exact same moment. Coco’s grip on your arm loosened. The room itself grew brighter.

For a moment Gallant was too stunned to react. Then something like a smirk but uglier twisted his face and he ran his eyes up and down Wilhemina’s body. You saw her stiffen.

She raised her eyebrows arrogantly. “Consider this your lucky day,” she snapped.

Gallant scoffed. Before he had time to move, you planted yourself protectively in front of Wilhemina – she was holding a gun, you were completely defenseless, but at that moment you would have taken a hundred bullets for her without a second thought –, clenched your fists and glared.

“Back off, Gallant,” you warned.

Gallant frowned at you. “We’re getting rid of her, Y/N.”

“Like hell you are.” You took a step forward, casting angry glances at everyone. “Ms Venable’s the only one here who can run this place. We know nothing about nothing. All we do is whine and laze around while she makes sure we have something to eat every day. Everyone else is dead. All the other Outposts have been overrun. Have you ever asked yourself why we’re still safe and alive?”

You paused to take a few short, angry breaths. Coco, Kyle and Ash lowered their eyes and stared at the ground, but Gallant and Andre still looked mad. “Please, guys. Think this over.” Another pause. Gallant’s gaze softened. “We’re all in this together,” you tried. “The only way we can survive is if we stick together.”

“She fucking killed Stu,” Andre barked. “She’ll pay for that.”

“Stu was contaminated,” you retorted. “His very existence threatened ours.”

“Bullshit,” Andre growled, baring his teeth. ”And deep down, Y/N, you know it. She’ll kill us all if we don’t take action first.”

“And we’ll die without her anyway,” you countered.

It went on for what felt like forever. Andre and you, snarling arguments at each other and you thought it would never end. But there was too much at stake, so you pushed on and on rephrasing the same ideas until Kyle lay his hand on Andre’s arm. Then it was him and you against Andre, who eventually deflated and backed off with a mean, angry look in his eyes like a wounded predator.  

You turned to Venable. She had not uttered a single word since she had lowered the gun. Her face was inscrutable. Now she made a few snide comments and left the room. You gave Kyle a grateful smile and hurried after her. Damn the others and what they would think of your behaviour. Let them talk. Let them natter and speculate.

Venable walked down the corridor as if she owned the place, hips swaying to the rhythm of her cane. You followed on her heels, now and then glancing down nervously at the gun still in her hand. The candlelight glinted off it.

To your surprise, Venable headed to her bedroom. She opened the door, turned, and looked down on you haughtily. “And what do you think you’re doing?” she asked imperiously.

That threw you off for a second. You straightened up and studied her face. “May I come in with you?”

Venable’s face was unreadable. You had no idea what was going on in her head. Silence stretched for so long, her gaze so intimidating that you were about to give up and avert your eyes, when she stepped aside to let you in.

You pretended to look about the room as Venable put the gun away in the drawer of her bedside table and sat on the bed. You shot her a sideways glance, noticed her hands were shaking. She was staring straight ahead of her, eyes hard and brooding. You bit your lip, trying to think of something to say. “And I thought it was boring here,” is what came out of your mouth.

Who could blame you, really? People use humor as a shield all the time.

“That’s because you’re a hopeless moron,” Venable snapped. She sounded a bit breathless. You cast her a worried look.

“I,” you started, but then you fell silent. You didn’t know what to add after that.

Venable grabbed her cane to stand up, but her hands were shaking so badly now she dropped it. Her next breath came out with a wheeze.

“Wilhemina,” you called worriedly.

She held out one hand. “Don’t,” she panted.

She tried to stand up without her cane, almost made it; her face contorted with pain as her legs buckled and she fell back on the bed. You ran to her.

“Don’t,” she hissed again, arms twisting to avoid touching you.

“Alright, take a deep breath –“

“I said don’t!” Her right hand slammed into your chest to push you away, but then her fingers clutched your shirt to keep you close. She heaved for breath, her eyes meeting yours in alarm.

“Hey,” you tried. You laid a comforting hand on her arm. “It’s okay, you’re okay. I won’t let them hurt you.”

A breath out, painful and short. Her eyes were wide with fear.

“I won’t,” you repeated, almost a growl.

Wilhemina’s free hand shot up to her chest. “I can’t –“she gasped, fingers tugging at her lace collar as if it were trying to strangle her. “Please, I can’t –“

She was losing control. Entirely. Not only of the situation but also of her body, her oldest, worst enemy. And you saw the terror in her eyes, felt her fingers clutch your shirt so tightly you thought she would tear it.

“Please I –“she repeated, voice small and breaking.

“It’s alright, I’ve got you.” Your fingers wrapped around her wrist, thumb rubbing circles to try and ground her. Gently, you pushed her hand against your chest. “Can you feel it rise and fall? Can you breathe with me, darling?” Her shoulders relaxed slightly at the last word, so you said it again, staring into her eyes as you tried to give her a smile. “Just like that, darling. You’re doing so well.”

She sucked in a breath, let it out shakily. You whispered words of encouragement as she copied your breathing, your thumb still rubbing circles on the back of her hand. Her eyes were wide, silently asking for help, seeking reassurances that she would be alright, that this pain would not last. That she would get to hold the reins again and be safe.

When she interlaced her fingers with yours you smiled again, and this time it reached your eyes. “There you go,” you congratulated her. She gave you a smile in return, small but true.”Take one last deep breath for me?”

She did, shoulders rising, gaze softening. You brought her hand up to your mouth and kissed her knuckles.  

“God,” she whispered with a shiver, “I hated that.”

You laughed softly. “It’s called freaking out,” you teased. “It happens to most people.”

She rolled her eyes at you and poked your arm. For a moment she gazed at you dreamily, then she sat up, and smoothed her hands over her skirt.

“I already miss giving orders,” she said. Her voice was playful, but you heard worry in it, too.

You hummed, considered her words. “Well, I’m here if you need someone to boss around.”

You almost regretted your words when you saw the malice in her eyes and the smirk that slowly crept up her mouth. But all she did was bite her lower lip, glance down at your mouth and whisper, “Kiss me.”

You kissed her cheek, soft and hot, to promise her tenderness. You kissed her eyelid, fluttering closed, to promise her protection. And at last you kissed her lips, home, to seal the promise of love.

When you pulled away, her eyes had that same peaceful, relaxed quality you had first caught a glimpse of when she had sat in your room and flipped through your books. It softened her whole face, pastel colours of a summer sunset succeeding to the vivid white and yellow of the afternoon. You grinned at her, drunk with love.  

“Kiss me again,” she breathed, voice barely audible, eyes half-lidded. You eagerly obliged, dipping your lips in hers, the sweetest, most intoxicating of liquors. It burnt its way to your heart and lit up your whole body with desire.  

“I think,” she whispered into your mouth, as her hands slid up your waist, “I think I might amend one of my rules.”

You groaned and sucked gently on her lower lip to taste her. “Please,” you rasped.

“I meant the one about the dress code,” she smiled. You scoffed. Banter seemed so easy and natural to her behind closed doors, and you loved that about her.

One of your hands came up to stroke her hair. Your fingers found a hair pin, tapped on it wistfully.

You pulled away just enough to look her in the eye. “Can I…“you whispered. She raised an eyebrow, not quite catching your meaning. Your finger tapped on the hair pin again. She did understand, then. For a moment she looked uncertain, and almost shy, but then she nodded.

Reverently you pulled on the pin and buried your hand in her hair, combing your fingers through it to pull it free. Your other hand came up to remove the bumpits on top of her head. Her hair tumbled down her shoulders and back, rough and fiery red just like the rest of her, ends perfectly trimmed somehow even though she had been living at the Outpost for months. You twisted a strand around your finger, stared at her in awe.

She tried to hold back a smile, failed; her eyes were bright, and the softest of pinks was blooming on her cheeks. “You’re so beautiful,” you breathed.

She raised her eyebrows doubtfully. “You are,” you insisted, cupping her face. “You look like the sunset. Red and purple and pink.”

“Pink?” she questioned.

With a smirk you poked her cheek. “Um, yes. You’re blushing.”

Her brow furrowed. “I’m not.”

“I’m afraid you are,” you chuckled.

“I’m not.” She bit her lip. “Kiss me again,” she ordered.

**

You pulled on her hair, hard, and planted open-mouthed kisses up her neck. You felt her throat vibrate as a moan escaped her.

“Easy now,” she hissed, raking down her nails down your back, a glorious sting.”Don’t get too bold.”

In lieu of an answer you sucked on the soft clammy skin just below her jaw and smirked as she shivered against you. “I’d never dare, Ms Venable.”

She groaned and unceremoniously pushed you onto the bed. You stared up at her, hungry and predatory, and opened your legs. Her eyes flared. She sucked in a breath, stroke her hands up your thighs. Her nails dug into your skin where your legs met your hips. “Kiss me,” she ordered.

You bit down on a smile. “No,” you whispered, meaning to tease her just a bit, to give her the opportunity to exercise her authority and to show her control was still well within her grasp.

Her thumbs were massaging the inside of your upper thighs. You were soaked, burning, and entirely too ravenous for her. “Kiss me,” she repeated.

You brought a hand up to her cheek and gently stroked it. “No,” you taunted.

Her eyes flared again. She slapped your stomach. Your hips bucked, your teeth sinking into your lower lip. “I said, kiss me.” A low growl, so ferocious and threatening you would’ve felt uneasy if it hadn’t been for the fond, grateful expression in her eyes. But you frowned slightly, and she noticed, and smirked.

And she was beautiful, cheeks flushed, red hair tousled and the skin of her neck and shoulders adorned with your love marks.

She lunged at you, tongue darting out, to lick up your throat, wet and hot and entirely too enticing. You squirmed under her, your fingers burying in her hair as she nipped the skin along your jaw.

“I’ll say it one more time,” she growled into your skin. She raised her head to meet your eyes, her teeth grazing your skin. “Kiss me.” Categorical, peremptory. So fierce the very ground quaked. You gazed at her in awe.

A smile. A finger slipping under her chin, pulling her to you. A kiss on her lips.

[writingsfromhome]

Nuclear Family V

Part Five: Some Things Never Change

A/N: I’ve reread and rewrote and finally wrapped this up! It got really long because I didn’t want to drag it into another part, but I did include an epilogue--I couldn’t help myself. Hope it lives up to the expectations! And thank you x100000 again for reading along <3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V

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

The next morning, we sit down together and soothe Charlie's worries. Harry holds my hand at one point and we play the best acting gig either of us have ever played as we pretend there's not a ginormous unspoken trilogy between us. Charlie's tentative at first, but when Harry pulls her onto his knee and whispers something to her. She breaks into a giggle and hugs him. At least that was patched over, I think. But when Harry meets my eyes over her head, I look away. Some things might never be patched over.

I’d set up a play date this morning, thinking Charlie might have needed a distraction. It also gave me time to pack our things without her to distract me or feel the emotional baggage I was packing up too.

I had planned to find an air bnb, waking up at 7am to start searching. But when I updated Marc after he asked what I was doing that evening, he insisted we stayed with him. We’d lived together before, and he was almost always at work, so it gave us enough space.The best part was he lived in the same building as Harry; it was almost too perfect, and when I’d asked Charlie she was totally on board. Spending time with Marc while being able to take the elevator to see her dad sounded just sounded like her play place had expanded.

After Charlie leaves, and I’m almost done packing, I look for Harry to talk. I find him toweling his hair after his shower. He had to head out for shooting today so I needed to speak to him before he left or else he would think I slighted him. He notices me in the foggy mirror and turns, and I try not to find the towel tied around his waist distracting.

“Hey, so...I’ll be out of your hair today...no pun intended.” I laugh lamely after he continues to stare at me blankly. Okay, maybe his towel was more distracting than I’d like to admit. And this was an awkward conversation when we had so many unspoken things between us. “Um, so I found other accommodations finally. So we’ll move out and it’ll be like we planned initially?”

“Huh?” Harry freezes, arms in midair.

“I don’t know why it took me this long to find another place,” I blabber on. “But I think yesterday was kind of a wake up call? I shouldn’t have stayed this long anyway and-”

“Wait, Y/N, stop. You’re leaving?”

“Just the flat,” I finally look at him, he looks stony. “We’ll actually just be a few floors down staying with Marc, so it’s kind of perfect.”

“Marc?” A flame lights itself in his eyes, usually the colour of a spring field, they’ve now turned into a field of ashes as he realises what I’m saying. “You’re moving out? To Marc’s? Because of yesterday?”

“Yes, that’s what I just said.” I try to remain calm, but it’s hard when he’s acting like this. “Harry, yesterday just made me realise I’d lost sight of the horizon or whatever. We were never supposed to live with you for this reason! We knew when we planned this that it would complicate things. I was just so obsessed with making Charlie’s birthday perfect I didn’t look for anywhere else, and her birthday was basically disastrous so that was useless. Now you can live freely, Miranda can come and go-”

“Oh and living with Marc won’t confuse Charlie?” Harry demands.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I think you know exactly what that mean Y/N. You’re being a bloody hypocrite-”

“What?!” I can’t keep the calm anymore. “I’m a hypocrite?”

“Yes! You! You think Charlie seeing Miranda and me together would confuse her yet you’re taking her to your boyfriend’s house-”

“Who said anything about my boyfriend--and how dare you sound so judgemental about that! Sorry I didn’t get the memo; Harry can have a girlfriend but Y/N can’t! She’s got to be the single virgin mother all by herself!”

“That’s not what I said!”

“No, I think it’s what you were trying to say! Being so fucking judgemental about my love life. This isn’t my fault! I’m not asking you shit, Harry!”

“What the fuck Y/N!” Harry whips the towel he was using for his hair onto the ground. My heart beats erratically in my chest; the last time we fought like this it was because I’d told him I was pregnant and it had ended really ugly. But the way he got under my skin, as hard as I wanted to be the mature one, I couldn’t. “You don’t have to be so bloody sarcastic all the time! I just don’t understand how living with Marc will be any better!”

“Marc’s barely every home, and he’s lived with us before, it’s worked out fine. Charlie adores him-”

“Oh yeah I bet she does! You would’ve loved it if Marc was her father yeah? He’s always had a thing for you, even when we were together. Now’s your chance to be a perfect little family with Marc!”

“I did not say that, don’t put words in my mouth-”

“Oh, but I think that’s what you were trying to say,” Harry mocks me. He’s a ball of rage as he stalks towards me. “I don’t understand your obsession with this guy and why he’s so close to Charlie!”

“You know Marc! We’ve been friends with him for-wait why am I defending myself? This isn’t about that!”

“Well I think it should be!”

“Where are you going with this Harry?!” I shout, putting my hands out to his chest as he continues walking towards me, as if maybe I could shield myself from his growing fury. “I don’t want to fight! I’m just trying to do what’s best for Charlie. And for us.” 

We stare at each other, uncomfortably close, chests heaving as the fire crackles low.

“Well, too late for that.” He says, but the snark is gone. “I’ve finally got Charlie living with me and you’re taking her away.”

“I-I’m not taking her away.” My voice rises immediately. “Don’t you dare say I’m taking her away!”

“You are!” He says stubbornly.

“What the fuck do you expect? You want me to stick around so it’s you, me, and Charlie? You want me to stay here and be miserable, have our kid be confused about what’s going on with who?”

“I don’t want you to be miserable, I just want us in one place!”

“We’re not this perfect little nuclear family you have in your head! We can’t be!”

“Not when you’re bringing the nuclear into the family,” Harry mutters immaturely.

“Oh my god, what’s wrong with you?!” I want to pull my hair out.

“What’s wrong with me is you’re taking away my daughter from me!”

My blood was just boiling now. I get in his face, “Harry, do you not remember that you never wanted us? You had the option to stay with me, while I was pregnant with Charlie. You had the option to hold your daughter the day she was born. You could’ve had all of it. Every step of the way! You chose not to, you let me go, you-you told me I could go...” I break off suddenly, so I didn’t sob as the memories rush back. I told everyone I was over it, I had processed it. But when Harry rejected me, he also rejected Charlie and I never got over that.

Harry hears my breath hitch, he backs away from my outstretched hands and I let them drop.

After a heavy silence, Harry speaks up: “Y/N I’m sorry. I heard what you said yesterday. I was up all night just thinking about it...”

“Well that’s wonderful for me,” I retreat into the comfort of sarcasm.

“No--you were right, I didn’t want commitment. I was bloody afraid of it. I was listening to everyone who said if I had a kid, my career would be over. I wanted to stay young, and I just let you deal with it by yourself. I was selfish and I wish I could go back and change everything.”

“Well that’s not much help now; you never once said any of this to me! You moved on--don’t deny it. I saw you in the tabloids, the media. You don’t think I kept track of you? I loved you! You’re the father of my kid, and while I was up on less than an hour of sleep trying to get your 2 month old to stop crying at 3am, you were out partying with models and getting smashed.”

“I couldn’t-I just spiraled-”

“Well it’s nice that your spiraling looks so much like partyingl” I roll my eyes. “Mine looked like crying in the bathtub with my ears ringing, and covered in baby vomit.” I cross my arms. I had held it in for four long years, it was about time I snapped, and I guess this was it.

“Y/N.” he turns away from me, rubbing his face. When he turns around, his heart is on his sleeve. “There were so many times I would pick up my phone and type in your number, just to hear your voice. Just to ask you about Charlie--it ripped me apart that I wasn’t there. That you weren’t here, with Charlie. You’d send me pictures of her and I would get so excited to see what she was up to, what new thing she learned...”

He breaks off, his face now shining with tears. He walks up to me and holds my hands, my heart tugs and I know I’m crying too. “Y/N when I held her for the first time when she was a few months old, and she looked up at me and smiled. I didn’t even know I could love like that. So I changed Y/N--tell me you saw me doing anything reckless after that first visit. I made sure I grew up so I could always be there for her. And you. But you never talked to me. You were always so cold to me and I was scared to break the ice. So I just let you raise her without me, not realising what I was missing out on. I fucking missed all of it because I was just trying find the perfect words to get this off my chest and I never found them.”

“Harry-” I sigh. “You could’ve tried. But...you moved on though. You have a girlfriend-”

“I had to try to move on,” he explains urgently. “You barely spoke to me. I’d ask how you are and you wouldn’t always reply, our texts were only about Charlie. You never invited me over when I was in LA. I thought you didn’t care about me so I had to move on, and the way we ended things I didn’t blame you! I let you know I would be there for Charlie--but I had to move on because I didn’t think we would ever have another shot.”

“I didn’t know what to say to you when you came over Harry. The way we left things before I moved back home, It was awful.” I whisper. The words he’d said, the things I said, the broken glass and just hours of fighting. Then the panic attacks and crippling fear of not knowing what I was doing with my life. It was easy to let it harden you, rather than invite it back in.

“The way I let you leave...was awful.” He agrees. “So I’m asking you now to stay Y/N.”

“And do what?” I ask, didn’t he get it? “Sit around while your girlfriend is over all the time, have her pop in with her own key while I’m only just woken up looking like a troll? Let you kiss me in the dark when she’s not around? Have her ignore me like I’m not even there?”

Harry has the decency to look embarrassed, dropping my arms. He sighs, and looks at me with regret. “This is balls up.”

“Yeah, I know Harry. That’s why I’m finding other accommodations.”

“I don’t like it’s with Marc.”

“I don’t care Harry, you don’t have any say over who I stay with.”

“But Charlie-”

“She can stay with you when she wants,” I agree. “I know you’ve got a shoot all week so it’s a good week to be out.”

“I like coming home to you two.”

“Harry,” I warn him. He couldn’t afford to speak like this when he had a girlfriend. I didn’t want to fall for him again. He made it hard not to.

“I don’t like it but I can’t stop you.” He concedes, arms crossed over his chest. I skim over the bare flesh, taking in the ink that Charlie loved to ask a million questions about. He notices me looking and I catch the cocky grin on his face.

“I’m looking at the ink,” I say, even though I didn’t have to defend myself.

“I know,” he shrugs but the grin stays on his face. I roll my eyes and head back to finish packing but he pulls me back to him and suffocates me against his bare chest. “I’m sorry, for then. For now. Forever.”

He lets me go but he keeps his arms around my waist. I look up at him and for the first time in a long time, I see my old Styles. Confident, determined, and a little cocky. The one I fell hard for.

“Noted,” I say, not giving in this easily, I still had to process this whole conversation and figure out what this thing between Harry and I meant.

A low chuckle bursts out from him as he stares down at me. “I miss you,” he says.

“I’m right here,” I say, stepping back so he lets me go. I leave him with a smile on his face, not ignoring the way he said he misses me. Without even realising it, my feelings of resentment had begun to slip away. But I still knew space would be best for both of us.

***

It’s Thursday evening, Charlie was with Harry having dinner at his mum’s place. Marc’s edition is officially in printing and he’s home at a decent enough hour that I put aside my work and share a glass of wine with him.

“Sounds intense,” Marc says to me after I give him the details of mine and Harry’s fight. Since then, we’d have breakfast as a family once but I did text him beyond just talking about Charlie. Pictures, memes, old memories, the occasional pointless text. It was sort of nice having him in my life again.

Charlie was going to work with him tomorrow, and she was so excited about that. It gave me time for alone time, and to catch up with Marc.

“It was intense, it felt like the old Y/N and Harry.”

“Uh oh. I don’t miss them,” Marc huffs. “You’re a lot nicer now, and he’s not as much of a cocky bastard anymore.”

“Wow, tell me how you really feel.” I tease. But he was right, back then I was young and sassy and I wasn’t afraid to let the world know. Marc and I had met when he reached out to me to write an article for his magazine and it was a coincidence that Marc and Harry knew each other from cover shoots. Marc used to be a photographer.

“I like this Y/N better,” Marc leans into me, his voice deepening. “She’s kind and strong and gorgeous, and the best part is she lets me kiss her.”

He pauses in front of my face and I lean the rest of the way in to let him know he could. That’s all the signal he needs. Our drinks abandoned, we quickly move into the bedroom and I can’t believe I forgot how good it felt to be wanted like this.

***

The next time I’m in Harry’s flat, I’m picking Charlie up. She stayed with him, but Miranda had surprised him by showing up early right after her flight landed. His short text made me get up there right away, after what happened the last time Charlie saw Harry and Miranda together, I wasn’t sure if she would misbehave.

But oddly, she’s mostly quiet.

“Did you have fun?” I ask Charlie, as she eats her cereal slowly. Her back is to the hall Harry stands in and it was a good thing as Miranda drapes herself across him. Unfortunately, I had to see it; I guess she got the memo that Charlie knew what was going on, and she was okay with it--or as okay as a four year old could be.

“It was so cool mom,” Charlie says. “There was so many rooms and one was space! It had the moon and there was a castle and they made the explosion sound and...” Charlie explains in no sensible order everything she saw at the studio, and I listen to her spill out her excitement but every so often my eyes drift to where Miranda shamelessly reunites with Harry. It makes my stomach turn. Especially after the conversation we had. I wasn’t an idiot, I knew Harry wasn’t going to rearrange his whole life because we’d finally had the Talk about what happened between us all those years ago. It was just watching them, and knowing that that was Harry moving on. From me...when I never fully moved on from him. It was pathetic, I know.

“Have you had coffee yet?” Harry asks a little while later after he’s unhooked Miranda’s claws from him and made his way to the kitchen. Charlie is slowing down her speech but when Harry appears she launches into more questions about set and when his “movie” would come out (it was a music video).

“No, I saw your text as soon as I woke up.” I say, between Charlie’s breaths. IT seemed she was going to be a while. “I could use a cup.”

“I heard you’re staying with Marc,” Miranda suddenly comes up and sits at the table, addressing me. “He’s a nice guy, I’ve worked with him in the past. Easy on the eyes too.”

“I’m right here,” Harry holds up my empty cup and looks pointedly at her. She winks and I nearly vomit.

I smile instead, “Yeah. He’s a really good friend, and Charlie loves him. And he lives downstairs so it worked out really well.”

“Yeah,” she smiles. This was the most she’s said to me since she got here. I watch as she glances at Harry who’s making my coffee the way I like it. “I heard you two are really good friends.”

Yeah...” I didn’t like what she was insinuating. I look up at Harry but he’s suddenly very interested in the sugar. “I can do that.” I grab it from him and make sure to glare at him as he passes it to me.

“We should do like, a double date.” She suggests. “Harry, don’t you think that would be fun? You and me, Y/N and Marc?”

“What about me?” Charlie pouts.

“You and Gemma!” Harry looks at me. “I forgot to mention, Gemma wanted to take Charlie out, spend some time with her while she was in London.”

“Perfect!” Miranda sounds almost too excited. It makes me suspicious.

***

When I tell Marc about the double date, he’s more than eager to attend. I know he just wanted to annoy Harry. I was nervous what this all meant.

But somehow I find myself standing with Marc in front of the restaurant while I try to prepare myself for whatever the evening held for us. Marc eventually just grabs my hand, winks, and pulls me in even though I wanted to just stay outside for a bit longer. Maybe a lot longer. Maybe just never go in.

As dinner goes on, things grow more and more awkward. Miranda is chatting up Marc about their old shoots, Harry grows more irritated as Marc receives all the attention, and his eyes track Marc’s hand any time it’s near me. I knock back my wine, as does Harry. Miranda continues to chat up Marc, and I inhale the food when it finally comes simply because the whole situation was stressful.

“The food’s good here,” I comment but only Harry hears me over the other conversation at the table.

“I always wanted to take you here,” Harry comments. “It has the best victoria sponge I’ve ever had.”

“You know I hate victoria sponge,” I scrunch my nose.

“I know!” Harry laughs which seems to get the table’s attention. His laugh usually did, as I’ve said. “That’s why you have to try it, you’ll finally like it.”

“Like what?” Marc asks.

“Victoria sponge,” I cringe visibly which makes him laugh.

“I think she loves cheesecake too much, right?” I know Marc is remembering the night I came to his house after a big fight with Harry, he’d bought a cheesecake for his then-girlfriend but I’d cried into it and finished the whole thing in one sitting. He’d had to improvise with cupcakes the next day. I still feel bad about that.

“Y/N is a cheesecake fanatic,” Harry says a little aggressively.

“Cheesecake’s way too fattening,” Miranda says absentmindedly, not realising what she was implying.

When the table grows awkwardly silent, Harry tries to come to her rescue. “That’s when you know it’s good food.”

“Touche,” I tip my glass just to have an excuse to have something to do and...well, drink.

At the end of the night, Harry asks if we want to go back to his place. I say no as Marc says yes and because he had the louder voice that’s what we do. I shoot him a dirty look but he only winks at me. He was having way too much fun.

Harry excuses himself and joins us in the Uber late. In his hands is a box with victoria sponge.

***

“Do you think he knows I’m not your boyfriend?” Marc asks later that night. We’d drank another bottle of wine and everyone was a bit more...vocal than before. What started out as fun stories from our younger days, quickly turns into passive aggressive comments as Harry stared a hole at Marc’s hand on my thigh, and Miranda stared at Harry staring at Marc’s hand on my thigh. She’d asked to speak to him midway through and now they were arguing in another room where every so often we caught some of their argument.

“You can’t even take your eyes off..............a bloody cake? You didn’t even think to.........I don’t get it!” That was Miranda.

“Thinking too much..........stop........of course I love you.......Charlie’s mom!” and that was Harry.

“I just knew this dinner would go like this,” Miranda says loudly.

“So you’re testing me now?” 

“Yes Harry, that’s obvious isn’t it Y/N?” Marc comments beside me.

“You’re having too much fun,” I lean my head back and sigh against the headrest.

“I have a stressful job, I don’t go out often. Can you blame me for being mildly entertained here?”

“Ugh...yeah okay me too.” I look over at him and he laughs. I hated the tension it was causing between Harry and I but I couldn’t help the small petty satisfaction of showing Miranda up after she tried to steal the show at dinner tonight. “What happened to the flight attendant you were seeing?”

“She took a flight out of London and never called me back?”

“Poor you,” I pat his shoulder. “We’re just not cut out for relationships are we?”

Marc shakes his head solemnly. I sigh, the alcohol making me more melodramatic than I was. “We’re finding my ex and his girlfriend arguing, entertaining. Who am I?”

“This is why we get along,” Marc leans into me, he smelled good. “Two boring people, getting our petty kicks with other people’s drama.”

“I think this is kind of my drama too,” I groan.

"Then I guess it’s kind of my drama too,” Marc says happily.

“You’re serious,” I say, leaning my head back against the sofa again, too tired to say anything else.

“I always have your back,” Marc says and I open my eyes just as he nuzzles a kiss against my exposed neck, and Harry walks into view.

“Harry,” I sit up and Marc jolts up as I nearly knock my head into his. Harry looks roughened up, his hair lays every which way as if he ran a rake through it. His face is flushed yet he stares at Marc like he wants to pop his head off.

“I’m really sorry, I’m going to have to call it a night. Miranda is...we have to talk and-”

“Yep, yep, we’re out.” I don’t need to be asked twice. Neither does Marc. Marc heads immediately to the door but I pause by Harry.

“Sorry...” he apologizes again. He looks like a lost puppy which is what makes me press a quick kiss to his cheek.

“We’ll talk in the morning. Gemma is dropping Charlie off around noon.”

“Okay,” Harry looks over my head to Marc, who is opening the door to give us some privacy. He looks back at me, searching my face for something. “I didn’t want the evening to end like this, it’s just...complicated.”

“I get it,” I cut him off, and more gently say again, “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yes please,” he mumbles. Even though Harrys’ done this to himself, I can’t help but feel a little bad. I pat his arm and turn to head out with Marc. Harry could get himself out of the mess if he wanted.

***

I don’t hear from Harry the next morning, before I pick up Charlie, he leaves me a cryptic text that we should probably not go over today. Charlie and I spend the day exploring London some more instead, although she’s tired in a few hours so we end up picking up Marc after work and enjoying dessert by the river.

I still hear nothing on Saturday morning, Charlie asks about Harry and I lie saying he way busy. It’s only around noon that a haggard Harry shows up at Marc’s door. I was helping load the dishwasher so Marc answers the door. It’s the loud shout from Charlie that alerts me to the guest.

I pass Marc on my way to the door, he just raises his eyebrows to say yikes and it’s an understatement when I see him. Messy hair, a five ‘o clock shadow, and he looks like he hadn’t slept.

“You look...rough.” I say while Charlie sits on his back. I almost want to tell her to be fragile with him with the way he looked.

“It’s been a rough couple days.” He comments, his voice scratchy. “I need to talk to you.”

“Charlie, love, go inside for a bit? I’ve got to speak with your dad.”

“Aww,” she moans as Harry helps her dismount.

“I’ll play with you later little monkey,” Harry tickles her and she squeals as she runs away. His eyes follow her with a smile.

“So...” I step into the hall, tilting the door behind me.

“I think Miranda and I broke up.”

“Ah,” that made sense. “What happened?”

“She...it’s so complicated. Why are women so complicated?”

“Woman here,” I point to myself and raise an eyebrow. He shakes his head and sighs.

“Apparently she...set up that double date so I could see you’d moved on. Except, according to her, the way I was acting made her realise she was never going to measure up to you. She...she wanted me to choose between you and her, I told her...” he gulps, leaning against the opposite wall for some support. “It wasn’t the same. You were Charlie’s mum, we would always be in each other’s lives. She made her peace with it but this morning when I woke up I don’t know...I don’t know what I said. She was just gone. She isn’t answering her phone. I thought we were okay, we made up yesterday but today...I don’t know.”

“Wow,” I didn’t know what else to say. I didn’t think she would actually ask him to choose. And now she went AWOL. “Do you know where she might be?”

“I went to her place, her roommate said she thought she was with me. I just don’t want her to do anything rash.”

“Sorry, Harry.” I look him over, I couldn’t help but feel bad for him. Before I could say anything more, Charlie zips outside with the drawings she had done at the museum. She just wanted his attention, and as he takes them from her he smooths his face over and gives her all the excited feedback she wanted. I slip inside and tell Marc we might head up for a bit.

Harry hesitates before letting us in. The place was a mess. Things are strewn about everywhere. A broken lamp sits near the entrance.

“Woah,” I say.

“Woah” Charlie echoes me with more emphasis.

“Ehm,” Harry scratches his head. “I...was trying to find something.”

“You shouldn’t be so messy dad,” Charlie immediately begins walking to her room, like she always belonged here. A small part of me is already sad for when we had to leave.

“Sorry love,” Harry cracks a grin and we exchange a glance.

“D’you need help...?”

“No, come sit. I’ll pour us a drink.”

We sit in the kitchen, sipping our wine in silence. Charlie plays with her toys in the back, a comforting background noise.

I reach my hand out eventually and brush Harry’s hand on the countertop. He looks over at me, zoning back into the present. His smile is small and sad, dimmed and broken like his lamp. I thread my fingers through his and squeeze for comfort. He brings my hand to his lips and kisses it and I try not to look as affected by it as I feel. He lets go after he kisses it.

“Thanks for being cool about this, I didn’t know who to go to.”

He looks so lost, and upset. I want to comfort him but there are no words I can say to do that. I open my mouth to try to say something anyway, but the familiar sound of his front door opening interrupts me before I can.

“Harry?” Miranda’s distinct voice carries over. Harry shoots out of his chair and goes to meet her. I watch on, out of view as she hugs him and apologises. “I just needed to clear my head. Then I got a taxi and ended up near my mum’s. I think I drank too many mimosas. I don’t know Harry, I brought an apology drink...”

She trails off as she spots Charlie laying down with her toys. She looks towards the kitchen and I look away quick enough to not see if she’d seen me or not.;

“I didn’t realise you had...guests.” She says slowly, slower, I can tell her words slur together. She really did have too much to drink.

“My...Charlie came up, her mum’s just in the kitchen.” Harry says, his words loaded with unspoken meaning.

“Oh. So I leave for a few hours and you invite them back.” My eyes bug out as I realise Miranda was planning on rehashing it right here. I get up and move towards Charlie but unfortunately I have to pass by them to get there.

“I was supposed to see Charlie yesterday, I didn’t know where you went! You weren’t picking up I just invited them up-”

“My phone died!” Miranda pushes Harry away and I move quicker towards Charlie, urging her to go play in her room but she stays on the floor stubbornly.

“Miranda please love, let’s not start this here again. Charlie-”

“What about me Harry? I haven’t gotten any attention from you for weeks! I thought we agreed yesterday-”

“They’re just here for the month! I never get to see her Miranda stop being unreasonable.”

“I don’t know why I thought coming back here was a good idea!” Miranda shouts. I pull Charlie up but even she’s frozen in spot watching Miranda. “You’re just never going to love me the way I want to are you? I’m never going to compare against...her. Them. Whatever!”

Harry tries to soothe her but she throws him off again, dropping her bottle to the floor with a thud. She turns to me while I back away to the bedroom with Charlie. “This is what you wanted isn’t it? Him all to yourself? This is why you came here all along? I bet your air bnb didn’t even have a bloody issue! He never wanted you in the first place! Newsflash: he has a girlfriend! Me! Not you-”

“Miranda! Enough.” Harry says and she shuts up. I scoop Charlie up and take her to the room but she starts crying because she dropped Oreo in the living room. I go back for it and Miranda is shouting at Harry, either she was too drunk to care or she was at the end of her stick. Or both. But when she starts to swear Harry tries to move her outside.

“It’s not like she can hear over how loud she’s fucking crying!” Miranda shouts. She really was having this breakdown here, but I pause. I wasn’t okay with her talking about Charlie like that, and I watch as Harry freezes over as he feels the same way.

“Miranda. That’s enough.” He says seriously.

“I’ve had enough Harry,” she’s on the verge of tears. I shuffle back to the bedroom and quiet Charlie down but as soon as she does the shouting gets loud enough that we can hear.

“Why is she yelling at dad?” Charlie asks, her nose red from crying.

“She’s...upset.” I say lamely.

“She shouldn’t yell at him,” she says quietly.

“Sometimes, when you’re that upset it just feels like you have to yell. But you’re right, we shouldn’t yell at each other. They’ll be okay.”

Eventually they quiet down and I feel like a prisoner stuck in the room, wondering when it was okay to leave. Charlie feels the same way because she eventually opens the door when I’m distracted and heads out.

“Charlie,” I whisper from the room but she doesn’t come back. It’s oddly quiet out and when I peep through there’s nobody actually there. I strain my ears and maybe hear them in the bedroom. I guess he’d convinced her to move location.

There’s a feeling in my stomach, like a hard seed rooting in place and pulling up the dirt as it sprouts up into my chest. I suddenly just wanted to go home, back to LA. It felt so complicated here, and I know Charlie felt at home with her dad but I was just a traveler passing through here. London, felt like a home, but it wasn’t my home. And the feeling forces me to sit down on the edge of the couch. Charlie notices my expression and hovers nearby, eventually climbing up beside me and leaning her head on me. I pull her into me and try to work my way out of the funk I found myself in, turning on the TV just so I didn’t have to suffer in silence.

When Harry eventually comes out with Miranda, I’m making a snack for Charlie who stays seated in front of the TV, eyes glued to whatever was on. I try not to think too hard about why they both looked freshly showered, about what this meant for us all. Miranda sits on the couch and Harry hovers over them all watching. From my view in the kitchen, the feeling from before creeps back. Harry catches my eye just then and raises his chin, is everything okay. I smile reassuringly, it takes everything in me to fake it, before resuming my slicing.

I had to get over Harry, I think. On some level, I was still holding onto him and not dating anyone because I continued to compare everyone to how he made me feel. I was vulnerable living with him, I’d made up some version in my head of a family while I lived here and I watched Harry in his fatherly role. Some part of me hoped it would come true. But watching him with Miranda and Charlie like this, he didn’t need me. I was just a past dream, one that felt good to indulge in. Miranda was clearly his future.

“Charlie,” I call her name once I’ve cut up her snack. I stay in the kitchen, where I watch Harry touch Miranda’s shoulder reassuringly. I watch them make up and then watch as she leaves. Harry doesn’t once come into the kitchen, and I try not to show how gutted I feel.

***

I don’t hear from Harry for a few days. Charlie decided to sleep over for a few days, and I’m more than fine with it as I work to meet some upcoming deadlines. Marc pops in and out of his apartment, we have a few meals together but mostly I let myself get lost in my work. Charlie comes up every so often, but she spends most of her time with her dad. With only one week left here, I understand. I didn’t want to be around him, and make it harder for me to move on.

With less than a week to stay, Charlie asks me curiously as I put her to bed,

“Is Uncle Marc your boyfriend?”

“What?” I stare at her, where was that question coming from? Marc and I made sure to keep our distance whenever she was here. “Why would you ask something like that?”

“I dunno. Dad said you cared about Marc.”

“Dad said what?” I breath deeply. For someone who was calling me a hypocrite he outright told Charlie Marc was my boyfriend? “Marc and I are just good friends honey, like you and Carrie. I don’t know why your dad said that.”

“I like Uncle Marc,” Charlie says as she grows sleepy. “He’s nice.”

I grind my teeth, why would Harry say something like that?

I go back to the living room where I was working on an article, Marc sits opposite me working late too. But no matter how many times I read what I wrote, I can’t focus. My mind spins asking why Harry would tell Charlie something like that.

“Where are you going?” Marc asks as I get up suddenly.

“I’m leaving Charlie asleep here,” I pick my sweater off the couch and slip it on. “I need to talk to Harry.”

“It’s 12am,” Marc puts his laptop to the side. “Ohh I see. You don’t have to use code with me love.”

“What?” I’m confused but it clicks a moment later. “Marc don’t be so immature I just need to talk to him about something he said to Charlie.”

“I won’t wait up, don’t worry. Charlie’s fine here.” He resumes working on his laptop and I don’t even bother correcting him. I fly out of the apartment and up to Harry’s. I didn’t care if he was sleeping, I needed to speak to him. I do a quick knock before fiddling with my key, entering the space just as Harry comes into view.

“Y/N?” Harry’s sleepy face stares at me for a beat, his eyebrows furrowed. And suddenly faced with a shirtless Harry, I realise I could have walked in on him doing anything. I didn’t really think this through--Miranda could be over. Shit.

“We needed to talk,” I close the door behind me and stand up straight, ready to lay into him.

“Now?”

“Yes, now. It couldn’t wait.”

“Come in, I guess.” He steps back and I walk into a brighter space, he follows behind.

“Why would you tell Charlie that Marc was my boyfriend? Or we were seeing each other?” I jump right in.

Harry must still be sleep-confused because he sits down on an armchair and stares up at me trying to piece my sentence in his head. My hands on my hips are fists as I wait impatiently.

“I didn’t tell her he was your boyfriend.” He starts slowly. “She just asked why we weren’t hanging out like before and all these questions about--well you know Charlie. So I said it was complicated; we cared about each other but you cared about other people too like Marc.”

“Why bring Marc into this? She doesn’t know anything.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Harry gets defensive. “I was just trying to break it down to her.”

“So you brought Marc and me into her mind as someone I’m with--the reason why we weren’t hanging out like before? As if Miranda and you isn’t excuse enough?”

“Well, not anymore?” He squints up at me.

“Well...why not anymore?” I didn’t follow.

“Y/N...” He stares at me, searching my face as if I was lying but I don’t even know what I would be lying about. I raise an eyebrow. “Miranda and I broke up--that day you were here and she came in, we broke up, I thought you knew that. That’s why Charlie was staying with me for so long, I wasn’t going anywhere.”

“Y-you broke up?” I was stunned, the way it looked to me, they had made up. “Charlie knew?”

“I don’t know. She just thought Miranda wasn’t coming around. I don’t know if it was worth explaining to her.”

“Oh. Wow,” I sit down on the couch, digesting that Harry and Miranda actually broke up that day. All this time I thought he was quiet because they were back together, but he must have been getting over the breakup. And I didn’t even ask him how he was--he must think I was- “Harry I had no idea, I would’ve....done-or said something. If I knew. I’m sorry.”

“I thought you were just staying out of it,” Harry chuckles to himself. “I didn’t realise you didn’t know.”

“The breakup was so...civil. I couldn’t tell! Can you imagine if we broke up like that all those years ago?”

That makes Harry laugh. “Maybe we would have made up quicker.”

“Maybe,” I whisper, playing with the ring on my finger. My mind races as the last few days make a lot more sense. But the only question that lingers on my mind was, why Harry didn’t try to make his move. If all those words he said over the last few weeks were true--why didn’t he try to talk to me? The only thing I can come up with was that he wanted to stay friends. It would get too complicated. “Well, now that that’s cleared I should probably go.”

I stand up as Harry does. He clears his throat, looks up at me like he wants to say something. I wait a moment, and when he doesn’t the awkward starts to settle.

“Sorry for waking you,” I say, trying to signal that I was now leaving.

“Doesn’t matter.” He shrugs it off. “But...aren’t you mad that I told Charlie?”

“Uh, yeah. Kind of,” I try to figure out where he’s going with this. “But, given your circumstances, I’ll let it slide just this once.”

“Oh c’mon Y/N,” There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Don’t give me that. I don’t need your pity-forgiveness.”

“Fine,” I cross my arms playing along. “If that’s what you want, I don’t forgive you.”

“Good. I want to earn my forgiveness.” Harry says, and it sounds like he’s saying one thing but meaning another.

“Okay well, I’ll think of something.”

“I can think of a few things,” he says with a twinkle. I can’t help the laugh that bursts out; he was making me nervous.

“Like what?” I impulsively ask, fuck it I tell myself. If I couldn’t flirt with my daughter’s single dad what was the point, right?

“Hm,” he takes the few steps between us and flashes me a charming smile. “I could get on my hands and knees and beg, or” he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and his finger traces the curve of my ear down to my neck, his movements slow and his finger dipping borderline dangerous. “I hear jewellery can work.” he taps my chest but just as quickly his hand moves up to cup my face, his thumb brushing my lips, “or I can cook you your favourite meal and watch you enjoy it or...” I keep my eyes on him, trying not to give in, but as soon as he moves his hand up into my hair, I close my eyes without meaning to. He knew my favourite feeling was his fingers in my hair and even now, it was no different.

“Or what?” I whisper, eyes still closed, too afraid of what I’ll see if I open them.

“Look at me,” He whispers. I swallow, he says it again and I finally open my eyes. He’s not even hiding what he wants, but he is holding back. “I don’t want to force you into anything, I want you Y/N...but I know you’re with Marc so if you want me to stop I-”

“Harry,” I cut him off. Marc was right, he really didn’t know--that must be why he left me alone. And now in the midst of this heat, I had to tell him--I’d only played myself: “Marc and I aren’t together. We got together a few times but we were never actually...together.”

“Wait.” his hand leaves my hair and I want to snatch it back. He takes a step away, his eyes flitting at he thinks. “So this whole time?”

I shrug.

“This whole time, you just let me believe you and him...”

I try not to look too guilty as realization dawns on him. When he steps towards me again, his mouth is curved into a smile. And one might think it’s a nice smile, but the look in his eyes, I knew he was gearing up for something, because now he knows I let him believe Marc and I were going out on purpose. And I was going to pay.

“Okay, okay so I can explain,” I hold my hand out but he just keeps walking until I stumble back into the couch I just got up from. He leans over me, and a giggle bursts out from nervousness. “Harry really, I-”

“You let me believe,” he grabs the hand I have raised and envelops it in his, taking away my only defense. “That you were going out with Marc? just to bother me?”

“Well,” I’m at a loss for words as I look everywhere but at his face. “It worked, didn’t it?”

“A little too well,” he murmurs. When I give in and look at him, I'm a goner.

“I'm sorry,” I say. “Really I-”

“You’re not getting away with it that easily.”

“What happened to forgiveness? We can mutually forgive!”

“I’m not that kind of person,” he says. Before I can respond he’s somehow managed to lift me up and sling me over his shoulder.

“This-Harry!” I try to wriggle out but his hands are iron clad on my legs. His apartment floats upside down as he carries me. “I’m sorry! C’mon! This is cruel and unusual punishment! I-”

The breath is knocked out of me as he lays me down on the bed, we look at each other for a moment and then his face cracks into a grin, “Last time I checked, you were into cruel and unusual punishment.”

I laugh, “That was four years ago love, a lot can change in 4 years.”

“Hm,” he leans over me and I crawl up the bed until my head hits the pillow, as he follows. “But some things never change, do they?”

“No,” I stare into his green eyes. They shine with unadulterated joy and adoration. My stomach swarms with butterflies like I’m a teenage girl, like I was Y/N so long ago, excited the hot guy from the party took me home. I hold his face in mine and kiss him with the same joy and adoration. “Some things never change.”

“I love you Y/N,” he says into my neck. I push him up to look at him, he says it again and I can’t stop grinning.

“Are you going to make me wait?” he raises an eyebrow. “Is that my punishment.”

I shake my head, “I think we punished each other enough the last few years.”

He nods in agreement, “That’s deep.”

“So’s my love,” I push the cheesiness which always got him to laugh. He laughs now too, and I feel the small thrill of being the one to do that. “I love you”

“Phew. Now let me kiss you,” he pulls my shirt off effortlessly and our lips meet in the middle, missing each other already.

And as we press into each other, relearning every inch of the other, catching up for all those silent years, we just fit together like we were absolutely made for each other. And truer words didn’t exist: some things never change.

Epilogue

[madsthewordclown]

Fire Lily | Pt. 10

warnings: none ig?

Eventual Zuko x Reader

a/n: sorry it took me so long to get this up! I took some time with my family over the holidays and struggled a little to get back into Writing Mode. This chapter is very focused on Y/N, and at this point she’s basically blocking out thoughts of You-Know-Who. She’s got more important things to worry about. Also, I just feel like Sokka and Y/N would vibe. I think anyone who would end up with Zuko would have to get along really well with Sokka. Anyway, enjoy!

Fire Lily Masterlist

Y/N found ways to be useful and tried to stay distracted. It turned out to be very useful, having a firebender on their ship. And, as it turned out, Y/N could make a career out of acting. Even Toph said so, which Y/N felt was quite the feat.

There were, of course, whispers about her. Y/N wasn’t stupid. She knew that not everyone trusted her. But Katara seemed to, for whatever reason, and Sokka was slowly coming around. Toph already liked her well enough.

“Where’d you learn that?” Toph asked Y/N as they sat in the small room that they shared with Sokka and Katara in the belly of their ship. “I’ve been meaning to ask. I recognized your bending. Those are earth bending forms.”

“I wondered why they weren’t so… Ka-pow!” Sokka punched the air for emphasis. Sokka tended to be very goofy, Y/N had noticed in the past few weeks aboard the ship. But Y/N could also tell he had a tactical mind. Sokka was crazy intelligent; you could tell even from his nonsensical rambles.

“My father gave me an earthbending scroll when I was little.” Y/N thought back to the moment. It had been a surprise when he came back from a visit to the city. “He thought it might help me, even if it’s not the same kind of bending.”

Y/N didn’t mention that she spent most of her time neglecting practicing. She didn’t want to firebend at all for a long time. But in the past few weeks, the others had needed it. So, Y/N delivered. Casually lit a flame in her hand to trick enemy ships.

Y/N didn’t want to admit it, even to herself, but it felt good, even in small moments.

“Well, it sure does work!” Sokka replied, putting his arms behind his head as he leaned back on his cot. “You know, Fire Girl, I wasn’t sure what to think of you at first, but you’ve really helped us out.”

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, it’s been great kicking some Fire Nation butt with you,” Toph agreed. Sokka and Y/N laughed. There really hadn’t been much butt-kicking, but it was a nice sentiment. Y/N had mainly stood back and let the others lead the way when they’d captured the ship from Chameleon Bay.

Sokka had actually offered to spar with her with the hook swords. Y/N had declined for the moment. She kept the hook swords underneath her cot. She’d have to rely on what bending she could do, for now.

“And,” Sokka added with a smile, “I think we look great in the armor.”

It was nice, Y/N thought, to sit and laugh with Sokka and Toph. They didn’t trust her completely yet, and with good reason. But Y/N had a feeling that they could get there.

And it was nice to laugh despite their situation. Aang wasn’t awake yet, and Katara spent every moment she could by his side when she wasn’t providing the ship with fog cover. But here she could light the lanterns and take a minute to laugh. It was almost better than the tea shop.

Almost.

Y/N tried not to think about Lee—Zuko. She had to keep reminding herself about that. He wasn’t her friend, not really. He wasn’t from the Earth Kingdom at all. He was Crown Prince of the Fire Nation. A firebender. And apparently obsessed with hunting the Avatar, as Sokka kept saying.

The Avatar. Y/N hadn’t been there when it had happened—when the lightning struck Aang down. Azula’s lightning, and Zuko had joined her. Y/N’s sadness and anger was almost overshadowed by heavy disappointment. The boy that she had known was grumpy but kind as well as caring. She remembered the careful hand he’d placed over hers. Lee would’ve jumped out of the palace with Iroh, and she would’ve followed him. But Y/N knew Lee was gone.

“The armor isn’t very comfortable,” Y/N noted, leaning back on her cot and enjoying the feeling of her light clothes after a day up on deck.

“Sometimes you have to suffer for fashion, Y/N,” Sokka joked. “Speaking of fashion, I think we all need some new clothes. You guys stink.”

“Speak for yourself.” Toph reached over to punch Sokka in the arm. Y/N laughed. Sokka wasn’t wrong—she was wearing the same clothes that she had been when she went to the palace in the first place. While they had been washed, they had definitely seen better days. There were a few tears in the sleeves of her dress, and it was stained with dirt, and the neck was starting to stretch out.

Y/N was grateful that they’d managed to find her a pair of pants on board, although they did look a bit ridiculous with her rag of a dress over it. The apron she had was tossed overboard shortly after they had reached the boat. Y/N might have set it on fire first, but that was nobody’s business.

Y/N had trouble sleeping on the ship some nights. It was always rocking at least a little bit. But she had a cot and having other people in the room turned out to be a comfort. There was the constant rhythm of Sokka and Toph’s breathing, and then Katara’s when she would finally slip in after hours spent watching over Aang.

Y/N’s months spent traveling felt so far behind her, but she could remember when she had to sleep outside on the ground, sometimes in the middle of the woods, if soldiers were nearby. Luckily, lighting a fire was always easy, if not terrifying. Y/N curled up under her blanket and let the soft sounds of the ship lull her to sleep.

“You’re a liar. If you would have just told the truth I would still be here.” Y/N recognized the voice, but she couldn’t see it. Everything was dark. Her hook swords were in her hands.

“Why did you have to let me take the fall?” Jet’s voice whispered.

“I didn’t mean to,” Y/N called back, desperately. “I didn’t mean to!”

“Y/N, calm down!” Suddenly, her brother was in front of her, holding out a hand. Y/N looked down and saw the molten metal of the hook swords dripping down onto the dirt, handles charred beyond repair.

“I can’t,” Y/N’s chest heaved. “I can’t.”

“Listen to me, Y/N,” Bihun said, stepping closer. “I don’t have much time.”

Suddenly, Bihun’s hand seemed to begin to fade, bits and pieces of it seeming to float off into the air like ash.

“Y/N, look at me.”

Y/N finally tore her eyes away from the burnt handles of her swords and met her brother’s eyes.

“Boiling rock, Y/N. Don’t forget it.” Bihun’s entire right arm was gone now, grey bits of ash floating through the air. Bihun smiled kindly, and Y/N wished so desperately to reach out to her brother, to hug him, but her feet felt stuck to the ground. “Now wake up.”

---

Y/N awoke, sweat sticking pieces of hair to her forehead. She wiped it away. Y/N was startled as she noticed Toph standing over her.

“Finally, sleepy head. Up and at ‘em.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Y/N swatted, pushing her blanket off of her before standing. “Where are we today?”

“Heck if I know,” Toph responded, turning away to lead Y/N out the door. “That’s a Sokka question. I can’t see anything past this ship.”

“Am I up on deck again?” Y/N asked, changing the subject.

“You’re the only firebender we have, Y/N, even if you aren’t very good,” Toph stated in answer.

Y/N frowned at the slight insult, although it was true. She knew little beyond a few earthbending forms, but she was the only firebender on the ship. If they came across other Fire Nation ships, she was their best shot at convincing them to let their ship pass.

“Go get your gear on,” Toph said, pulling her own brown cloak over her head. Y/N was a bit jealous of Toph’s very lightweight disguise—the first time she put on the Fire Nation armor she had almost fallen over. She also wanted to puke a little bit when she saw herself in the mirror.

After a solid ten minutes of struggling—a great improvement from the twenty it had taken the week before—Y/N placed the heavy helmet over her head, opting to keep the face plate tucked away in a pocket for now. She didn’t particularly like having her face covered. It made her feel less like herself and even more like a Fire Nation soldier, although it did come in handy to have her facial expressions hidden when they came across other ships.

Y/N made her way up to the top deck of the ship with only slight difficulty. The Fire Nation armor was much more mobile than she had imagined.

Y/N blinked at the sudden brightness of the sunlight streaming down onto the ship. The open ocean was already enough to deal with, but no one had ever said anything about how hot metal ships could get with the unblocked sun shining down on them all day. Luckily, Katara seemed to be periodically dousing the deck with sea water.

“Y/N!” Sokka called, walking over to where Y/N was standing. He was also in his Fire Nation get-up, but he wasn’t wearing the faceplate either. “Ready for another day?”

“Sure,” Y/N deadpanned. “It’s too hot to function.”

“Where’s that fiery spirit, huh?” Sokka grinned, bumping Y/N with his elbow. “Get it?”

“No,” Y/N lied, trying to ignore the terrible joke. “Do you know where we’re at?”

“Not really,” Sokka admitted. “My dad tried to describe the general area to me, but I haven’t spent enough time looking at the Fire Nation maps.”

“I’m just glad we’re through that pass,” Y/N shuddered. “As long as we don’t go back there.”

“Yeah, the Serpent’s Pass is… difficult,” Sokka agreed. “Keep an eye on the water and let me know if you need anything, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Y/N nodded. “Any news on Aang?”

“Not yet,” Sokka frowned. “But I have a good feeling about today.”

“Sokka!” Hakoda called from across the deck, waving an arm to beckon his son.

“Duty calls!” Sokka dismissed, turning and leaving Y/N to look out onto the wide expanse of sea.

The one advantage of Y/N’s position is that she wasn’t usually asked to do many chores. Not that she would mind helping, but Hakoda had said that they never wanted to have to struggle to find her if they came across another ship.

The clear sky clouded halfway through the afternoon, darkening the sea beneath them and turning the sky a depressing gray. “What was that about a good feeling?” Y/N asked Sokka nervously as he came over, three scrolls tucked under his arm.

“It’s not storming, is it?” Sokka pointed out, sitting down on the floor of the ship, armor clanking. “Look at these maps with me.”

Y/N hesitantly took a seat next to him, sliding the helmet off of her head to wipe the sweat from her brow. She enjoyed the cool breeze that swept by. Sokka took his faceplate out of his pocket to put on the edge of the scroll to hold it down.

It was a map of the Fire Nation, Y/N realized. The country was shaped almost like a loop of islands, Y/N realized, with the capital city of Caldera, home to the Fire Nation palace in the center of it all.

“We’re about here, I think.” Sokka pointed to a blue spot on the map, just off the shore of the Earth Kingdom.

“By the colonies,” Y/N realized, gasping lightly. She hadn’t realized how close they were to her home.

“Yeah,” Sokka said nonchalantly, before seeing the look on Y/N’s face. “Are you okay?”

“I hadn’t realized we were this close. I used to live there.” Y/N pointed to another spot on the map, her finger nearly touching Sokka’s on the scroll. “Just a handful of miles north.”

Y/N stood, looking to the north. Land was just barely visible in the distance. Somewhere on that piece of land, a little way inland, was her parents’ home. She briefly wondered if they were still there.

“That’ll be our first stop after the invasion, then,” Sokka offered. “Well, maybe not the first stop. But it really would be a good waypoint on our way to… whatever’s next.”

“What is next, Sokka?” Y/N asked. She surprised herself with the question. She realized none of them knew what a life without the war was like. Even when Y/N was too young to be aware of it, it had affected her.

“I’m not sure,” Sokka admitted, looking at Y/N with kind eyes. “But’s it going to be awesome.”

“Do you know what ‘boiling rock,’ might mean?” Y/N looked back down at the map. It was silly, her dream wasn’t real. But weirder things could happen, she was sure.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s a landmark of some kind. But it’s not on this map.” Sokka recognized Y/N’s expression fall. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Y/N assured him. “Just thought I’d heard of it somewhere.”

---

Y/N was not prepared for when the Avatar stepped out onto the deck that night. She had been the only one who hadn’t gone to visit him while he was out. She felt like it was wrong. She didn’t really know any of them well, least of all Aang. And Katara watched over him like a hawk. Y/N felt like she needed the privacy.

Y/N also did not take into account how Aang might react when she casually lit a torch for Hakoda with her firebending. She hadn’t thought of how backwards the Avatar’s world would seem when he first awoke. It was weird for all of them, but at least they were conscious for most of it.

Y/N sat with Sokka and Toph as Katara spoke with Aang and brought him back inside for another healing session.

When the Avatar resurfaced again, Sokka brought Y/N and Toph over to where Aang and Katara were sitting to explain the invasion plan.

“We’re working on a modified version,” Hakoda added.

“It’s Sokka’s plan,” Katara snapped before turning back to Aang. Y/N had sensed some tension between Katara and her father since arriving on the ship—she had seen the other girl storm off a few times. It appeared that she wasn’t wrong.

“Yes, Sokka’s plan,” Hakoda looked at his daughter out of the corner of his eye, a confused look on his face. “We can’t execute a massive invasion without the Earth Kingdom’s army, but the Fire Nation is still vulnerable.”

“So, we’re planning a smaller invasion,” Sokka explained. “Just a ragtag team of our friends and allies. We’ve already found Pipsqueak and the Duke.”

Pipsqueak and the Duke waved from where they were chowing down on noodles a little way across the ship.

“And our biggest advantage is we have a secret… you!”

“Me?” Aang blinked.

“Yep!” Sokka said proudly. “The whole world thinks you’re dead!”

Aang’s face paled. The Avatar stood quickly and ran to the side of the ship. Y/N wondered if he was about to be seasick over the side. She averted her eyes. Sokka stood to go and reassure Aang.

Y/N looked out over the ocean on the other side of the ship and noticed the shadow approaching. “Hey, there’s a ship!” Y/N called. Sokka and Aang turned around to look.

“I’ve got this.” Aang’s glider snapped open. “The Avatar is back.”

“Wait!” Katara rushed to Aang’s side. “Remember, they don’t know we’re not Fire Nation.”

“We’ve got it,” Hakoda said, putting a hand on Y/N’s shoulder.

“I hate not being able to do anything,” Aang muttered.

“Don’t worry, buddy,” Sokka reassured him. “We’ve got a firebender on our side.”

“What?!?” Aang looked around frantically. Y/N gave a shy wave. She’d have to explain that later.

Katara helped Aang and the others get below deck as the ship came into view. A man in a uniform matching Y/N and Hakoda’s called out to them. Y/N took the faceplate out of her pocket and slid it into place.

“Commander, why are you off course? All Western fleet ships are to be moving toward Ba Sing Se to support the occupation.”

“We’re from the Eastern Fleet, actually,” Hakoda corrected. “We’re delivering cargo.”

“Nice of Admiral Chan to let us know…” The Fire Nation commander replied. Y/N got a sinking feeling. They weren’t convinced.

“Are you questioning my authority?” Y/N called out, praying to the Spirits that she sounded confident and in-charge.

“Who exactly are you?” The commander questioned. Y/N thought of a lie—a Fire Nation name she had heard from home.

“Captain Yai,” Y/N replied as smoothly as she could manage. “And who are you?”

“Commander Muso,” the man replied. “I didn’t know Admiral Yai had a daughter.”

“I didn’t know our army promoted insolent men to command,” Y/N answered.

“I didn’t know our army promoted a girl to command,” Muso sneered. Y/N dared to light a fire in her palm and watched as Muso recoiled.

“I would hate to have to issue a challenge, Commander. Be on your way.”

“Yes, of course, ma’am.”

“Captain,” Y/N corrected.

“Yes, Captain,” Muso amended glumly, motioning to his men. Before long, the Fire Nation ship was pulling away. Y/N let out a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding.

“That was awesome, Y/N!” Toph cried as the others emerged from below deck.

“Thanks.” Y/N smiled.

“And that was a really lucky guess with Admiral Yai,” Sokka added.

“I know!” Y/N felt the excitement catch up to her. She had been pretty cool.

“Nice work, Captain,” Hakoda praised, giving Y/N a pat on the shoulder. Y/N smiled as the Fire Nation ship faded out of sight.

Fire Lily Masterlist

taglist: @kaylove12, @akariblue, @wolfiemichele, @aquatickanye, @sunflowerr-mami

[translations-by-aiimee]

Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 24

Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 24 - Inside Story

"Sorry." Lin Yan mumbled to the boy's back. He wasn't sure why. No one could see Xiao Yu, which always made him a little anxious. Lin Yan hesitated and for the first time took the initiative to reach out and touch Xiao Yu's statue-like fingers and whispered, "It's lonely, isn't it? Of all the people in the world, I'm the only one who can see you and I treat you badly."

Lin Yan stared at the endless highway outside the window and sighed: "Sometimes I think that, if a person walks down the street but seems invisible, desperately waving and no one responds, desperately shouting and no one hears, this feeling will definitely drive a person crazy. When I sit alone in the study room, I often feel that everyone’s excitement has nothing to do with me. I can’t wait to rush into the crowd and shout that I’m dying alone. If there is a person, no matter who he is, just that he's willing to listen to me patiently, I would have held on to him with a death grip; a sad, loving and even desperate grip."

"But I can't tell anyone. No one wants to admit that they're lonely. They always put on a show to satisfy their pride. They show off their awesome life to others while crying behind closed doors. People are such strange creatures."

Xiao Yu lowered his eyes and grabbed Lin Yan's hand. He put it to his lips and kissed lightly, as if comforting.

Lin Yan turned his head silently. The children at the snack bar were making noise, and the street shop windows were covered with small heart-shaped papers of various colours. Lin Yan looked through a few of them, and some of them were written in highlighter about who they love and who they're waiting for. Some wrote blessings to pass the exam. They were notes of immaturity and youthfulness, the purest and most beautiful wishes.

Everyone had their own wish, whether it was simple or complicated. Their dissatisfaction with their lives making them write out their wishes on paper, hoping that one day the gods can see them. Lin Yan thought silently, people who don't know each other always shine brightly, but only when they are familiar with them do they know their weaknesses. Just look at him, his family was well-off and well educated, but he had never dared to admit that he didn't like girls; look at Yin Zhou, he's from a perfect family but only willing to be a prince in the virtual world; then there's A-Yan, who can't even be a normal person in the eyes of others. Lin Yan gave a wry smile, who would listen to their prayers?

Probably because of the high school student's whistleblower, a group of children at the next table were pointing at him. Someone said something about being a psychopath. Lin Yan smiled indifferently. He took a note from his pocket and wrote a line: "I hope I can successfully help Zhou Jintian find his father." He put the note under a piece of fluorescent paper with a heart drawn on it.

He heard about a child's wish today.

He, Yin Zhou, and A-Yan had snuck into the morgue to search for answers after finding the boy’s record. The old man at the door was basically deaf. Lin Yan yelled the three syllables of the kid's name so loudly and the old man didn’t hear him. A nurse doing some cleaning suddenly intervened and asked him if the child hadn't left yet. He put down the broom and said pitifully.

"I know that kid, his grandma and I are neighbours. His mother died a few years ago. His father was too busy with work to care for him. The child lived with his grandma. One time Jintian had a severe fever and his father came back to see him. Jintian never forgot about it. One day while his grandmother was not there, he fell off of a balcony on the third floor, thinking that his father would be able to accompany him to see a doctor if he fell. As a result, the child lived a short life. His internal organs ruptured and caused heavy bleeding, and he passed away after a few days after being sent to the hospital."

"The ashes are buried in the most expensive cemetery in our city. I went there on the day of the funeral. It's a pity that his father was on a business trip abroad. He didn't rush back to collect the body until two days after his son's death. He didn't see him in the end." The nurse sighed. "I heard that the child kept asking about why his father wasn't coming in his confusion. The doctor lied to him that he was already on his way. As a result, the child lay on the bed and looked out the window every day, and even kept his eyes open when he died."

This story made Lin Yan feel a little heartbroken, but A-Yan said that this kind of soul was easy to deal with. There was no resentment and didn't want to harm anyone. As long as he found the person he was obsessed with and burned paper in front of the grave and talked with him often, he should be gone. But the child’s ghost was the most simple and persistent. If that person didn't come, the child would turn into a grieving spirit after waiting for a long time, which was extremely difficult to deal with.

"G-Ghosts have more of a heart." A-Yan was rather lost when she said this.

Ding. Lin Yan's cell phone went off. Yin Zhou sent Zhou Mo's detailed address and contact information. He turned out to be a local, living in the most remote area of ​​the city, about a three-hour drive away. Lin Yan swallowed the last bite of his spicy and sour noodles and threw the nuts in the soup into his mouth. He curled his lips and said to Xiao Yu: "Let's go. This time, the task is to help the kid find his father. It is much easier than dealing with you."

As he spoke, he grabbed his wrist and walked out, and couldn't help but blow a whistle and laugh as he drove, thinking that if only all the troubles were like today. No matter how bad his luck was lately, his family was always warmly affectionate.

Zhou Mo's family was at the fine line between the urban and rural areas. When he arrived at the destination indicated on his GPS, Lin Yan thought he had gone to the wrong place. In front of him was a rather imposing villa with a sign on the door of a European-style courtyard: private residence, outdoor surveillance. Lin Yan couldn't help being secretly stunned. For a man who owns such a house in this rich city, even if his child is hospitalized in the United States, he was rich enough to go back and forth every day. How could he not even get back to see his child for the last time?

He parked the car outside the courtyard. Lin Yan woke up Xiao Yu, who was dazed in the passenger seat, coaxed him and said: "I know you're upset when I drive you away, but this is something I need to do well, so don’t make trouble later, alright?" He leaned on the cushions and said casually: "I really understand the little boy's mood. When I was a child, my parents were also busy. I only go home once a week. I would cook my own food and sleep on my own. I was afraid of the dark and I always wanted my parents to suddenly come back."

"But I know my parents also missed me. Although they were busy, they didn't forget to buy a bunch of delicious foods every time they went home." Lin Yan changed his position and lay on his side, catching a strand of Xiao Yu's hair. He circled it around his fingers and said excitedly: "Although people and ghosts are different, a father-son reunion is always something to look forward to, right?"

Xiao Yu nodded. He pecked his lips on Lin Yan's face, and slowly said, "Let's go."

"Young Master Xiao, you're finally willing to talk to me. It's so hard to please you." Lin Yan muttered and opened the car door.

The owner’s yard was very delicately maintained, with various seasonal flowers in full bloom. He could smell the warm fragrance floating in the summer night while he waited outside the door. Not far away, there were many koi squeezed close to each other in a shallow pool, the sound of water splashing when they shook their heads and tails making people feel unspeakably calm and relaxed.

Lin Yan waited for a few minutes. A woman dressed as a nanny ran out of the villa and looked at him vigilantly through the hollow courtyard gate. Lin Yan explained that he had come because of Zhou Jintian, and the nanny ran back again. This time it took a full 20 minutes for the door to open. Lin Yan adjusted his shirt and walked across a path paved with pebbles. He rang the doorbell of the small building.

With a squeak, the Victorian-style heavy wooden door opened a gap, and a middle-aged man poked his head out of the door and hesitated: "You are?"

Lin Yan smiled politely: "My name is Lin Yan, a student at X University. You're Mr. Zhou, I came for your son Zhou Jintian." He said respectfully and handed over his student card. The owner checked in confusion, and after confirming that there was no problem, he opened the door a bit wider, but still had no intention of letting him in.

"My son just passed away some time ago. What do you want?"

Although it was backlit, Lin Yan still saw the typical businessman expression on the middle-aged man’s face; snobbishness, arrogance, and calculating. He only wore a purple bathrobe with a belt tied loosely around his waist. His chest was exposed and his body was slightly fat, but he could see that he had a good foundation when he was young. Now there was a bit of fat under his ears, so he didn't like to exercise, or his only exercise was golf.

A rich man covered in his armour.

"I'm sorry about your son. It's like this. I have a relative who's hospitalized in L Hospital. . ." The crystal ceiling lamp in the main hall of the villa was shining and blinding. Lin Yan tried to organize the thoughts in his mind, but the middle-aged man suddenly interrupted him. "You work somewhere, right? I paid all the money that should be paid to the school, the hospital and the cemetery bills have also been settled, and I don't owe anything to the commissary, so what are you doing here?"

Lin Yan hurriedly explained: "No, no, you misunderstand. It's not about money. I know this sounds ridiculous and you might not believe it, but your son's ghost is still in the hospital and he's waiting for you to visit him."

The middle-aged man's expression grew strange, and he held the doorknob as if he was about to close the door: "You're sick. What about my son's ghost? Jintian was buried long ago."

Lin Yan frowned. How could such a father exist? Hearing something about his son, even if it wasn't reliable, there was no way he could just immediately disregard it.

"This is the case; do you know why Jintian had an accident? He always felt sorry that you didn't get to see him before he died. Up to now, his soul has been unwilling to move on. He's attached to my relative's daughter waiting for you to come back. You may not understand, but a little girl being possessed by a ghost is in a dangerous situation." Lin Yan gesticulated anxiously: "Just like in the movies."

"If you don't go, Jintian's ghost will never be able to reincarnate. After a long period of time, not only will he suffer, but he may also harm others. When that time comes, for the safety of my relatives and her daughter, I'll have to disperse your son's soul." Lin Yan was in a cold sweat while talking. If he had said this kind of stuff a month ago, he would've thought he had brain damage. He thought he was cheating him out of some money, but what else could he say? Your son’s strong brainwaves caused a disorder in the hospital’s electromagnetic field, causing an innocent thirteen-year-old girl to develop hallucinations and die?

The middle-aged man frowned. He pulled his right hand back from the door frame and tightened the belt of the bathrobe: "Tell you what, I know about this. I’ve been busy lately. You can contact my secretary. Tell him how much money you want to send Jintian away, and I'll ask him to write a check."

"I said this has nothing to do with money. If you don't meet him, no money in the world could fix this!" Lin Yan really got angry this time. Was there something wrong with this guy's brain? How could he only think of money when it comes to his son?!

"Dad, what are you doing? Mom is calling you!" A five or six-year-old boy suddenly ran out from behind the middle-aged man, hugged his waist and acted like a baby. He saw Lin Yan standing at the door and started sucking his thumb, looking at Lin Yan with a pair of black grape-like eyes wide open. The middle-aged man lovingly picked up the child and placed him on his shoulders. When he looked at Lin Yan again, he put on an impatient expression.

"Who the hell do you think you are? Some mage? You're at my doorstep at night, talking nonsense, and I'm calling the police if you don't leave!"

"Who's been at the door for so long? Another bill collector? I've got no money, tell him to go the same way he came." The door was suddenly yanked open and a young woman in the purple bathrobe stood in front of Lin Yan with an imposing attitude. Her figure was slim, snowy breasts hidden behind a lace corset, and her sharp eyes were like a blade scraping Lin Yan.

Lin Yan's argument had been completely disrupted by the battle in front of him and he stammered: "Uh, I, I'm here about your son, Zhou Jintian. . ."

Before he could finish, the woman instantly changed her face and said in a high voice: "There's no end to this. How much money has been spent on the seed left behind by that yellow-faced woman? From the best hospitals to the most expensive graves; his son cut his own life short and didn't fight to survive, yet he's still shoving his way into our lives?" After speaking, the little boy was shoved in front of Lin Yan: "Okay, this is my son, he's the only one!"

After speaking, she didn't care about her husband's ugly face and slammed the door with a bang.

Lin Yan clenched his fists and stood in the dark doorway, chills in his heart.

He didn't know how he got back into the car, but when he looked out the window, he felt that the whole villa suddenly became ugly, and even the blooming roses in the yard looked like abscesses. He never believed that there were parents like this that existed. He thought that familial love was the warmest, strongest and most unshakable emotion in the world, but this time he really saw the indifference and coldness of the human heart.

Don’t test humanity, don’t, because it was simply unbearable. Lin Yan sat in the car seat and tried to slow his breathing, but his anger still grew, and all Xiao Yang's grieving and crying face appeared in front of him. How much did a child need to miss his father to have the courage to jump off of a third-story building? If his spirit in heaven knew what had unfolded here today, would he feel like his death was all for nothing?

Lin Yan slammed his fist heavily against the steering wheel.

A cold hand lightly touched his face. Lin Yan twisted his head and said hoarsely, "Xiao Yu, don't mess with me. I don't want to coax you now, I just want to beat someone up." He kicked the clutch hard and said: "Fuck this guy!"

Xiao Yu patiently tugged Lin Yan's wrist and wrenching his shoulder to make him face him. His eyes were vicious: "What do you want to do?"

"What can I do? Go back and let A-Yan find a way to make the little brat forget that he has a father!" Lin Yan gasped.

Xiao Yu shook his head, glanced at the outline of the villa in the night, and slowly said, "I'll do it."

"You mean. . ." Lin Yan looked at Xiao Yu blankly, and suddenly understood what he meant. After a long silence, he bit his lower lip and said, "Before this, I always thought I was kind, that there was nothing I couldn't bear, but. . ." Lin Yan stared at Xiao Yu: "I just want to be a fucking asshole! He deserves it!"

"Xiao Yu, I don't care what tactics you use. Before noon tomorrow, I want to see him come to the hospital to apologize to his son!" Lin Yan said viciously in the dark cab.

Xiao Yu squeezed his hand and whispered, "Don't worry."

[iatethepomegranate]

Just a fic about Caleb buying a house in Rexxentrum with Beau and Yasha, and coping with that kind of change and newfound stability (and becoming Professor Widogast). Angst and fluff are at war in this fic.

Content warnings: lots of grief, Caleb's backstory, referenced child abuse

Chapter summary: The Nein goes shopping and Caleb is tired. The market offers up an expected memory, and the chance to hold a little piece of childhood in his hands.

Notes: Title is from Nine by Sleeping At Last.

****

Chapter 4: I let the scale tip and feel all of it, it's uncomfortable but right

Jester and Caduceus were a force to be reckoned with at the marketplace. They had already convinced Caleb to let them buy him a set of curtains for his side of the house. Thick fabric to block out most light and definitely any nosy neighbours. They were a soft yellow-green patterned with watercolour chamomile flowers, which they had figured out were native to the Zemni Fields behind Caleb’s back.

“These are so pretty Cay-leb,” Jester said, gently sliding them into the bag of holding with Fjord’s help as they stepped out of the shop. “We’ll put these up as soon as we get back, okay? Yasha promised she’ll help us.”

Yasha was a little way off with Kingsley, her arm over his shoulders as they looked at swords at a nearby market stall. Caduceus dragged everyone off to stock up on kitchen necessities and more seeds for Yasha’s garden. And a ton of baking supplies, because Yasha had begged Caduceus to teach her, even though everyone knew no one had to beg Caduceus for that kind of thing.

Essek, disguised as a half-elf with soft brown hair and eyes, held himself a little awkwardly here in the heart of the Dwendalian Empire, but he defiantly refused to complain. He had little input on Empire goods, aside from wine, about which Beauregard happily bickered with him. Caleb was happy enough to let the others direct him, even if he theoretically knew the markets better than they did.

He trusted them. And he was so tired.

So he quietly followed the Nein around the market and let them make decisions for him with minimal input. He must have looked wrecked, because Essek, despite his disguise and clear nervousness, held his hand to anchor him.

Fjord, Jester and Kingsley bought him a ton of high quality paper and ink for the study, with Essek’s subtle guidance. Caduceus picked out basic kitchen staples for Caleb that would keep him fed even if he didn't have much time to cook, in the event he couldn’t eat with Beau and Yasha. Veth found some orange-amber cushions that complemented the curtains. Yasha found an orange-white checkered tablecloth that she declared matched his hair and therefore was a necessity for the house. She and Beau bought two, one for each side.

Caleb, in a lucid moment, found a soft blue rug for Beau and Yasha’s bedroom and bought it for them, despite their objections. It was only fair he gave them something back after everything they were doing for him. He would have to work out the logistics of installing a real-world sex mirror later as a proper gift. He’d ask Essek to help, and Essek would do it, but he would hate every second of it. The one sex joke he had ever made in front of the Nein was 50% deflection. And jokes were very different from installing a sex mirror for someone.

Jester would be up for it. A little bit of gold dust would be enough for Caleb to hold it in place with Immovable Object while they secured it.

Caleb was pulled from his calculations about dimensions and weight for a ceiling mirror when Veth tugged on his hand. “Hey, Cay. There’s an old lady selling homemade quilts. Rexxentrum is very cold, and you are going to catch a chill if we don’t get you something better than that one shitty blanket. Come on.”

She led him over, catching up with the rest of the Nein. Jester was chatting with an old Zemian woman sitting behind the table behind piles of bright quilts. The stitching sparked an old, old memory in Caleb, and he found himself stepping closer before he had consciously thought about it.

“Ja, I make the trip up from Blumenthal every few months,” the old woman said in a thick Zemnian accent, much thicker than Caleb’s after all his time travelling.

Caleb froze for half a second, easing himself through the shock of that information. “Ah, hallo, grandmother. It is good to meet someone from home.” This conversation would be easier in Zemnian. Common lacked the polite Sie form that Caleb would typically have used for respect. But he wasn’t sure he could handle having this conversation in Zemnian, so it was probably for the best.

The woman smiled up at him, her lips wobbly with age. “Hallo, young man.”

Caleb’s knees ached a little, just to remind him some parts of him really were not young at all.

She held out a wrinkled hand for him to shake. “Call me Lisbeth.”

Caleb had a strange moment of indecision regarding his name, trying to remember if he had known this woman as a child but coming up empty; Blumenthal was just large enough that it was possible not to know everyone, and she may have even moved there after he was gone. “Ah, Caleb Widogast.” He shook her hand. “I grew up in Blumenthal. This stitching is…” Why was he just saying everything that came to his mind?

“Very traditional, ja.”

“Ja, my mother used to make quilts like these...” His was probably ash now.

He was dimly aware that the Nein were watching him, and that Veth had done an extremely visible double-take.

Lisbeth searched Caleb’s face for one terrifying moment, and he was convinced that maybe she did know him after all. But then, whatever she saw made her soften, and she reached beneath the table. “I like to save my best work for those who will appreciate it. Here.” She laid a thicker quilt on top of the others. “I made one like this for my grandson. He wears it like a cape around the house.”

The stitching was a little more intricate, and the squares were detailed with minimalist animal shapes. Mostly cats. Una had taken Caleb’s cat obsession to heart; the quilt she had made him had been similar. Painfully so.

Caleb traced the stitching of an orange cat, his vision blurring. Essek squeezed his hand. Caleb blinked until he could see again. Even with the disguise turning purple eyes to brown, these were definitely Essek’s eyes staring up at him with a familiar look of both affection and concern.

“We’ll take it,” said Veth. Veth, who had already bought Caleb a house, and cushions. This was… no.

“Veth.”

“Caleb.”

He sighed. “A word, please.” He took her hand, leading her a little away from the group. “Veth, this is too much.”

Veth’s eyes were wet. “No. No, it’s not. I saw how much this means to you. Caleb, you just talked about your childhood and your mother to a total stranger. That’s not…” She sighed. “I saw your face when she pulled out that quilt.”

“I cannot let you…” Caleb could barely speak. “Veth.” He swallowed. “You bought me a house. You are still buying things for me. This is… I can’t take this.”

“Why not?” There was an edge to her voice, but it was a genuine question. “I thought we were over this. Why is this the line?”

Caleb did not know where he found the strength to stay on his feet when all he wanted to do was fall in a heap. He stared at the dirt.

“Cay, look at me. Please.” Veth couldn’t reach his face, but she absolutely could conjure her mage hand to lift Caleb’s chin until he met her eyes. “Will having this make you happy? Or does it hurt too much? I won’t force you to take something that hurts you, but if this is because you don’t think you deserve it…”

“I don’t know, Veth.”

They had spent a long time alone together, relying on each other to survive. If anyone could read him, it was her. She stared at him for a few moments, eyes moving as if his face were a real book.

“I don’t think you would’ve struck up a conversation with a random Zemnian lady if this was the bad kind of pain,” she said. She rolled her shoulders back. “That settles it: you’re getting the quilt. I’ll get the Nein to chip in if that makes you feel less weird about it.”

It kind of did. And Caleb didn’t have it in him to argue anymore. “Ja, okay.”

Veth pulled him down so she could kiss his cheek and led him back to the stall. “All right, everyone give me your money.”

It was probably a sign of how bad Caleb looked that nobody questioned her. But when Essek reached for his pocket, Caleb reached out to stop him.

“No,” he said. “Not you.”

Essek frowned deeply with the half-elf’s face, but the expressions were undeniably him. “Caleb.”

“No. You need that money. Do not put me through this.”

Essek’s face softened. “All right.”

The rest of the Nein, even Kingsley who still barely knew Caleb from a bar of soap, coughed up enough coins to pay for the quilt. Lisbeth, a little teary herself, offered a discount, which they refused. Jester and Veth gave her extra gold that Caleb couldn’t count through his brain fog. Okay, he was very much not coping if he couldn’t even count things.

Veth was too small to pick up the quilt without dragging it on the floor, even after Lisbeth had gently folded it, so Yasha accepted it from Lisbeth and handed it to Caleb. Old muscle memory took over, and he buried his face in the soft fabric.

“Danke schön,” he said quietly.

Lisbeth smiled at him again, but it was sad. “You should come by the market and say hello before I go back home in a few weeks.”

“I will.” It would hurt a lot, but Caleb meant it.

“Take care, Schatz.”

No one had called him that in a long time. It hurt. It hurt so much.

Grief was funny like that sometimes. You think you’re getting on with things, doing okay, and then there will be a scent on the wind, an old term of endearment, stitching identical to your mother’s… and you break.

Caleb squeezed the quilt and barely held himself together as the Nein led him back home. Whatever shopping they had left to do… they had wordlessly agreed to leave it for another day.

****

Back home, Caleb asked to be alone for a bit. That meant Essek was allowed. They laid the quilt out on Caleb’s bed, Essek’s disguise abandoned. Caleb stopped fighting the tears, letting the sobs come as he smoothed out the edges, fingers catching on a stitched golden retriever puppy.

Essek pressed his palm between Caleb’s shoulder blades. “Sit. Please.”

Caleb lowered himself slowly, wholly convinced he would collapse if he wasn’t careful, and settled on the edge of the bed. Essek pushed him onto his back and curled up next to him, guiding Caleb’s head to settle against his chest. Limbs tangled together.

No more words were said for a while. Caleb drifted asleep at some point, waking with a headache. Essek left briefly to fetch him a cup of water. Caleb stretched and his back cracked a little bit. He felt hollowed out, but in a good way. The way you felt after a good, well-deserved cry.

Essek returned in a few minutes, wiping his own eyes on his sleeve, and made Caleb drink the whole cup. “You should eat something.”

“Soon.” Caleb still felt a bit queasy from the tears.

Essek tucked himself into Caleb’s side, arm around his waist. He squeezed, just a little, and kissed Caleb’s collarbone. Caleb pulled him in close and kissed the top of his head.

“Danke.” The word was not enough to express the depths of Caleb’s gratitude that Essek had lain here with him through his grief, that he had taken such a risk to stay at Caleb’s side in the market to begin with. Under better circumstances, Caleb would have been furious with Essek for that, but they both knew Caleb had needed him today.

Caleb slowly rubbed his palm across the surface of the quilt behind Essek’s back. It felt exactly the same as the one he’d had when he was little, which Una had repaired again and again over the years because he was so attached to it. She had made it last until he was seventeen. Until the night he had destroyed everything because of a false memory, primed by faux-patriotic indoctrination and horrific abuse. Caleb would never fully shake off the guilt. Not entirely. Whatever Trent had put in his head, it had been Caleb’s hands that set the fire. But it was getting easier to accept that Trent had engineered the situation very carefully, so that Caleb did not feel like he had another choice.

He was glad Veth had convinced him to accept the quilt. One more piece of his past reclaimed. One more piece that could become a comfort instead of a knife in his ribs.

Caleb felt better. The two of them slowly stretched out their limbs, rolled aching joints, and headed to Beau and Yasha’s side of the house. There was a scent of baking in the air. Not apple tarts--Caleb probably would have broken again if it had been, no matter how happy the memory. He could smell spices.

They stepped down the stairs into the living area. Beauregard was grumbling over some Cobalt Soul report, while Kingsley, notably bored, lazily slapped her leg with his tail over and over. Fjord listened to Beauregard’s complaints with a constructed look of sympathy. Veth was openly ignoring her, head in her spellbook once again. Yasha, Caduceus and Jester were notably absent.

“Oh!” Fjord was very quick to find an excuse to stop listening to her. “There you are. The others are baking biscuits that none of us can pronounce.”

Beauregard rolled her eyes. “I’m telling you I said it right.”

“Caleb, help us out,” said Kingsley. “They’re some kind of spiced biscuit dusted with sugar while they’re still hot. Normally for special occasions.”

“This is a special occasion,” Veth told him. “It’s got the same number of syllables as fluffernutter. I think.”

Caleb suspected he knew what they meant. “Ah. Pfeffernüsse.”

“Yeah, that.”

“Told you I was right,” Beauregard muttered.

“They’re very good,” said Caleb.

“I think the first batch is almost done,” said Veth. “You should be our taste tester.”

Caleb crouched beside her on his way to the kitchen, pointing at the book. “Veth, that rune is upside down.”

“Fuck!”

He found the spell she was copying out in his own spellbook and set it beside her. “Here. It’s easier with more than one source. I’ll be back to help you in a moment.”

Caleb then stepped into the kitchen, with Essek on his tail. Yasha had a pair of soft pink oven mitts on, pulling a tray from their dark metal oven. Jester held a bag of confectioner’s sugar, bouncing in anticipation while Caduceus tried half-heartedly to close the bag before she spilled it everywhere.

“You’re just in time, Mr Caleb,” Caduceus said, giving up. “The lady selling baking supplies at the market gave us the recipe. I am not going to try pronouncing it again.”

“Pfeffernüsse,” Caleb supplied again.

“Yeah, no.”

Jester snickered. “He kept trying to say it while you were upstairs. It was very cute.”

By now, Yasha had set the tray down and put another in the oven. “Caleb, Caleb, come here! Look!”

Caleb stepped to her side and gazed down at the cookie tray. They were a little less round than the pfeffernüsse Caleb was used to, but recognisable. Jester came over and sprinkled the sugar over them with far more grace than anyone had expected.

Once cooled a bit, they brought the biscuits out to the living area. They were soft like Caleb remembered, and the spice blend was excellent. “These are perfect,” he said. “Thank you.”

Yasha looked genuinely touched, and swept him into a huge hug.

“May I help you next time?” asked Essek. “I have never baked before.”

“Of course,” Yasha said. “Caduceus is going to teach us to make bread soon.” She held up her hands in a slow-motion shrug. “Goes well with soup?” Her voice went up at the end, making it sound like a question.

Kingsley, who had absolutely not paid any attention to the conversation, shoved an entire biscuit in his mouth, his eyes widening to a ludicrous degree. “What the fuck? This is the best thing I have ever tasted.”

“We are famous for our baked goods,” said Caleb.

“You’d think Zemnians would be a happier bunch if this is the shit they eat,” Beauregard said, her mouth covered in sugar.

“Depression baking is a cultural pastime,” Caleb said.

“Bro, what the fuck?”

“Do you think Astrid and Eadwulf eat these things?” asked Jester.

“Probably,” said Caleb. “We used to.” That reminded him; he needed to message Astrid and arrange a time to discuss the job offer. “Ah, one moment.” He pulled out the copper wire, sticking to Common for the sake of his companions. “Astrid, it’s Bren. The Professors delivered the offer. Do you have time to talk? I am a little nervous about it. Time and place?”

Astrid replied in Zemnian, “Do you remember Trent’s old office? I’m there now. Come when you are ready.”

Caleb re-upped the spell. “I will be there in half an hour,” he replied in Zemnian.

Still in Zemnian, Astrid replied one last time, “I look forward to it.”

Beauregard was the only one who could understand the Zemnian half of what Caleb had said. “Caleb, I don’t wanna be patronising, but are you feeling up to that?”

“I want to get it over with,” Caleb replied. He clarified for the rest of the group, “I am going to see Astrid soon, to talk about the job.”

“I’ll pack some cookies,” said Jester, grabbing the plate and rushing into the kitchen. Yasha chased after her before she could break anything.

“Do you want an escort?” asked Fjord.

“Nein. I’ll be all right.”

“You will call if you need us?” Fjord’s voice was firm; it wasn’t a question.

“Ja, of course.”

****

Caleb was out the door in a few minutes, carrying a cloth bundle of six Pfeffernüsse, all that had been left of the first batch. It was four in the afternoon, the air having chilled a little but it was still pleasant. Caleb didn’t mind the cold too much, as long as he wasn’t trapped in it.

Walking into the Shimmer Ward was less frightening than it used to be. There would always be a lingering hint of anxiety, but he had it well in hand. There were crownsguard stationed at the Academy gates; they silently let him pass into the manicured gardens of the campus.

Coming here as a teenager had been a dream come true, which had quickly become a nightmare. Maybe coming back here to teach would let him reclaim those memories, turn them into something useful. He headed to the nearest tower, where he knew most staff kept an office. Trent had rarely been in his, but Caleb recalled that Astrid had been teaching here, so it made sense she would make better use of it.

The tall marble archways and huge windows had not changed one bit since the last time Caleb had been here, not long before he murdered his parents. Maybe coming here was a bad idea, especially after the day he’d had. Or maybe he needed to get this over with. If he got emotional about being here, at least he could claim it was because he was tired.

Muscle memory carried Caleb to Trent’s old office. He felt nauseous. He knocked on the door. It swung open, seemingly of its own accord.

Astrid was seated behind the massive, heavy mahogany desk. Caleb knew from personal experience how sharp the corners could be. He was going to be sick.

Astrid set aside her pen, capping the inkwell front of her. “Hallo, Bren.”

Caleb swallowed before he spoke. “Astrid.”

Astrid continued in Zemnian, so Caleb decided to match her. “Sit down,” she said , gesturing to one of the three chairs. They looked spindly and delicate, but Caleb knew for a fact how sturdy they were. And how much force it took to break out of any bindings tying one’s arm to the arms of the chair.

Caleb took a deep breath through his nose, picking up the spices of the Pfeffernüsse. It helped. He placed the bundle on the desk. Astrid’s desk.

“Jester, Yasha and Caduceus are experimenting with Zemnian baking,” he said quietly, letting himself fall into a chair. “They’re good.”

Astrid raised an eyebrow, gently picking at the piece of twine holding the bundle closed. She lifted a biscuit from the cloth. “They smell right.”

“They taste right, too.”

Astrid split the biscuit in half, handing the larger part to Caleb. He wasn’t sure if it was affection or distrust. She waited for him to take the first bite but also quickly followed suit, so maybe a bit of both. Understandable.

“These are good,” she said, finishing the biscuit and rubbing a thumb across her sugared lips. Slowly. It had to be deliberate. “You look tired.”

“Long day.”

“How is the house?”

“Good. Different. I am...” He laughed, just a bit, thinking over the last couple days. “A little out of practice. I don’t know if you knew… I was homeless for a while. It felt safer.”

Astrid did not look surprised. “I know.” She exhaled through her nose, visibly rousing herself. “You wanted to talk about the job offer?”

“Alphira would have made a terrible Volstrucker.”

Astrid cracked a small smile. “She told me about your meeting today. I apologise for her clumsiness. You took it more gracefully than I would have.”

“I doubt it.” Caleb didn’t tell her about his breakdown behind the shop. “A shame the smut shop is gone.”

“Evidently their business fell apart without your patronage.” Astrid gave an extremely put-upon sigh. “Wulf found another place. Get him to give you directions.”

“Kingsley is curious.”

“Yes, I am sure that is your only motivation.” Astrid cleared her throat and visibly put her mind back on task. “Bettina needs a replacement. The Archmages are falling over themselves to sing your praises. They are, in some ways, full of shit. Hiring you will terrify them. I think you will like that.” She glanced at the now-closed door and lowered her voice. “Headmaster Zivan Margolin is a weak link to Trent, but a link nonetheless. Your presence will make his life very difficult.”

Caleb matched her volume. “Whoever decided the Headmaster of Soltryce Academy should be the same person as the Archmage of Conscription is…” He sighed, unable to put into words how much the deck had been stacked against him, Astrid, Wulf and every other child pulled into the Volstrucker program. And how much it upset him. “What the fuck.”

“Margolin is busy pretending he loves you,” said Astrid. “He’s become a little bold in his claims that he saw your potential from the beginning. The Martinet is growing uncomfortable with the implication and will throw him to the sharks to save his own skin. One word to the right people…”

Caleb knew Beauregard would carry the message to Yudala Fon in a heartbeat. “We need to be careful. Take it slow. We have disrupted the Volstrucker pipeline for the moment. We cannot afford to stumble now.”

Astrid leaned back in her seat, looking very much like a cat who had just eaten a bird it had been chasing for miles. She raised her voice to a normal volume. “So, you will take the job?”

“I might.”

“Bettina told me your demands,” said Astrid. “We’ll put them before the Archmages. See what we can do. If nothing else, making the demands will prove a point no matter what they do about them.”

“Astrid, I am serious. I want them fulfilled.”

“I know. Bettina has suggestions about the ethics lessons. I agree you should teach it as part of the Transmutation classes, at least for now. Would we have listened when we were students?”

“I think that depends on who it came from. And whether Trent had gotten to us yet.”

“I agree. I think you will make a more compelling speaker than anyone else we could find.” She smirked a little. “You were always charismatic, and you have the lived experience to make an impact.” She took another biscuit, chewing thoughtfully, eyes tracing through the air as if she was reading calculations. “You said you were nervous.”

Admitting that in the Sending had been an impulse decision, born out of an emotional day. He didn’t regret it. Outside the Nein, Astrid probably understood best that Caleb had always been an anxious person, even if he had handled it much more gracefully in his youth. When he eternally swung between deep insecurity and excessive arrogance owed to his skills, and the fact he had known very well how charming he could be. Anyway, Astrid and Wulf knew his old insecurities well. Now he had new ones, and Astrid was trying to be on his side as much as she could.

So Caleb voiced something he wasn’t sure he would ever tell anyone else. “I have always wanted to teach. You know that. But. It’s a lot of responsibility. Maybe Trent is still in my head a bit, but I am afraid. He said that I am not the only ‘one of us’ in the Assembly who went through similar trauma. What if I… turn out no better than he did?”

“He also said you were defined by your trauma, if I recall.” Astrid’s face had shuttered a bit the instant Caleb invoked Trent. “He likes to find our pressure points and push until we break. You know that.” She took a third biscuit and shoved it into his hand. “He saw what he wanted to see, and he wanted his vision of you to be what the rest of us saw as well. I… made an error. I misunderstood your ambitions. As did The Martinet.”

“What did Ludinus think I wanted?”

“Power. Like most others in the Assembly. Revenge. Like most Volstrucker who have thought deeply enough about what Trent put us through.”

“He would have been right. Once.”

“I know. The first time you came to me, you were still very angry.”

“I never stopped. My goals changed. I… learned better, I suppose.” Caleb owed so much to the Nein, especially his talks with Caduceus that helped clarify what he did and didn’t want in the end.

“I didn’t. You know I would’ve killed him if you hadn’t stopped me.”

“I wouldn’t have resented you if you had.”

“You were right to stop me. It was more satisfying to shame him in public and have him tossed in a dark cell with a silencing collar glued to his neck forever.”

“And his hands glued together for just as long.”

Astrid’s eyes softened a bit. “One of the most beautiful things I have seen in my life.” Her gaze lingered on him, just a second longer than either of them could dismiss as casual. “How’s your beacon thief?”

“He’s fine.” Caleb wasn’t sure he could handle talking about his current partner with Astrid of all people.

“Have you seen him recently?”

“I am not telling you that.”

“I won’t turn him in. It would not go well for me.” Astrid rested her chin in her hands, searching his face. “Are you two happy?”

“Yes.” Caleb did not offer further details, and Astrid did not pry.

“You deserve it.” She smiled down at the bundle of biscuits. “Tell your friends thank you for the Pfeffernüsse. Will you take the job?”

“I will.”

“Good. For what it’s worth, I think you will be a good professor. You and I both know how important that will be.”

Caleb matched her sad smile. “No more children on the pyre.”

“No more.”

Caleb felt better. He could do this. It would take more than one person to make change, but he could do his part. Astrid had her ambitions, but he knew her in a way very few people did. There were conversations to be had between them, more damage to stitch up.

But it had been a long, emotional day. There would be more days. More time to pull the vulnerable from the flames, to stand between them and the remaining elements of this government who would use, abuse and discard them.

And, he hoped, time to care for those had already been hurt.

[thelazydoodle]

IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY

I've just finished watching "Willy's Wonderland", and I'm not gonna lie. I actually enjoyed it, my expectations we're met, and I'm pleased how everything played out.

Willy's Wonderland is a comedy slasher, starring Nicolas Cage as a silent drifter, who gets his car messed up in a small hick town in Georgia. With no choice, but to help a business owner clean up his kid's restaurant to re-open it, so he can get his car fixed. As the trailer is shown there's a catch, the animatronics are possessed by the previous owners. Sticking to his word, Nicolas Cage continues to clean up the place, while fighting for his life. While the local teens try to break in and destroy the place once in for all.

I enjoyed this movie for many reasons:

I actually enjoyed Nicolas Cage's performance, his character is a simple silent type drifter, but he gave more to it. His facial expressions, his body movements, and his habits. His character has an obsession over a pinball machine, he likes to drink a certain soda, he has a timer for his breaks that he follows, he sticks to the job, even when he just gets attacked by an animatronic. He goes through with it, then he continues on. Nick's character is more of a killer than the animatronics, people become terrified, while he just goes "welp, I gotta kill them.". He doesn't even initiates them, he basically defends himself.

The animatronics were amazing, the design, the personalities, the voices, and the gimmicks. They all have silly double consonant names (Willy Weasel, Sarah Siren, Knighty Knight, Ozzie Ostrich, and so on). The constume design for them were amazing and functional, I sat there watching and wondering "Are they in costume now, or are they animatronics?" . The designs practically sold me, they looked legit.

The set looked and felt real, I've been to Chuckie Cheese and other kiddie restaurants many times as a kid and this one looked like a real one. The graphic design on the cut outs, the signs, and the pinball machine that Nick is obsessed with looked great. It didn't look half assed or just something you sees for a fake cartoon character you see on a tv drama or movie. They had a stupid Kiddie jingle playing through the movie, they had a great V.A. for Willy's voice that sold it.

The opposite effect, remember how I mentioned Nick's character doesn't get scared? That's what I mean, you know in Some Korean Horror films. You have a set up that doesn't have a horror feeling, till the "killer" or "horror" invade? Well that's what Nick's character is, he's suppose to be like this Ash Williams character that becomes a badass, but he's already a badass. He's really the invader, wrecking/cleaning shop.

Alright alright, there's gotta be some downsides right Lazy? Well, I just don't like one part of the movie were I fail to see the logic. Nicalos Cage is honestly the only "Comedy" of the movie, besides some of the animatronics. Other than that I enjoyed the actors, the teens were your cliche horror teens, and pretty much Nick was the answer. If you got time, and money, I suggest renting it. Prime is charging early access for $20 bucks, if you want to treat your wallet light, I would suggest waiting for a month or so to chop down the price.

TL:DR, Nicolas Cage rocks a silent role, animatronics are amazingly done, the set is great, logic in some areas are a bit misaligned, and Nicolas Cage is the only thing that is funny. I recommend renting

8.5/10

[stephkaylor]

FAVES & FAILS: #1 (Teen Wolf)

I’ve decided to do this questionnaire when a show/book series/movies where I answer these questions with fun gifs too (its Tumblr, what did you expect?), if you want more info, the original idea post with links to each of my completed lists is here ⚡️. A bunch of my faves have already ended so getting all of these out will take a minute, but I’m aiming to post a new one twice per week. 🤞🏻Anyway, enjoy!! OH!! ALSO, I’ll be discussing plot elements in this list so...SPOILER ALERT!!

TV Show FAVES and FAILS: TEEN WOLF

FAVORITE MALE CHARACTER: STILES STILINSKI

HANDS DOWN, no question about it! He was the soul of the show, and funny, and so incredibly human on a show full of the inhuman, and that was what made him so integral.  Anyway, I could go on forever about how much I love Stiles, but here’s a gif:

LEAST FAVORITE MALE CHARACTER: GERARD ARGENT

There isn’t really a male that makes me want to punch something, so good for the writers, I guess?

FAVORITE FEMALE CHARACTER: LYDIA MARTIN

I really want to say Allison but it HAS to be Lydia, hands down! Her character development from a girl pretending to be vapid and shallow and who hid her genius so she could “fit in”, to a strong, powerful, confident woman secure in who she really is and the power inside of her (figuratively AND literally, lol), this girl is the real MVP.

LEAST FAVORITE FEMALE CHARACTER: MONROE

This was hard because there are several female characters that made me want to throw my laptop out of the window.  The short list is Kate Argent, Allison’s mom... I could go on... but Monroe’s systematic attempt to wipe all supernaturals out of Beacon Hills and then maybe the rest of the world gave me fucking high blood pressure and a rage issue. I don't care how “scared” you are, killing a kid who hasn't done anything wrong just because they are different than you is some fucked up, borderline genocidal bullshit. And she survived the finale!!? Like I had to deal with her self-righteous smirky attitude and you didn't even have the decency to punch her in the face and let me watch?!? Rude.

THE CHARACTER THAT DESERVED BETTER: Aiden (and kind of Ethan)

I badly want to say Allison again here because I love and miss her tons. But she died protecting her family and friends and I believe that she is happy wherever she went afterward.  Watching Aiden die in his twin brother’s arms I don’t know who I felt the worst for.  The boy dying, or his brother who now has to live without him... I’m gonna go cry now, brb.

THE DEADWEIGHT CHARACTER WE SHOULD’VE DUMPED IN 2009: Kate Argent

Luckily she was not a regularly appearing character, but when she showed up it was always “for revenge” and I'm like...can we just...not this season? I was having a lovely time and then you showed up with your petty anger for whatever fucking shit that happened in, like season one.  Like, honey... if it’s been so long since you’ve been relevant that I have to google what you’re upset about because I have honestly forgotten...maybe it’s time to let that shit go.  Kindly fuck off now, please...

OVERHYPED CHARACTER: Derek Hale

Like, don’t get me wrong, he’s great and I loved when he was on the show, but I feel like some people think he carried the show and it wouldn't survive without him.  Well, surprise! because he went away after season 4 and I still think some of their best shit came in season 5 and the beginning of season 6.  

UNDERHYPED CHARACTER: Deaton

Um, he was basically Scott’s druid emissary and he got no recognition for it.  He saved all of the main pack members’ lives at least once.  Also he didn't make Stiles pay for the windows, so he’s apparently not an asshole. 

OVERHYPED SHIP: Scott and Malia

I feel like they had to adjust the final season A TON because of Dylan’s injury and Kira not coming back and I think the writers panicked when they didn't know who to put Scott with (because our leading man could never not have a girlfriend, *gasp* THE HORROR!) because Lydia needed to be with Stiles and I think they picked Malia because she was basically the only one left...I was never into it.  In fact, when my friend texted me after we watched the episode where they get together, my response back to her was literally “meh 🤷🏻‍♀️”.

UNDERHYPED SHIP: Allison and Isaac

It would’ve been so nice to see where that relationship went.  Don’t get me wrong, had she lived, I would’ve wanted Allison to end up with Scott.  But I loved that the show was willing to say that it is okay to fall in love more than once in your life.  Sometimes the shows aimed at a younger audience have a tendency to act like your first love has to be the one you’re with until you die and that’s just not realistic. It was nice that the writers didn't box these characters into that mold because it gave them more depth as characters. 

FAVORITE SHIP: Stiles and Lydia

I don’t know how to explain how much I love this pairing.  Like, from the beginning he saw her for how amazing she was and he supported her as she came into her powers and then she was always there making sure that someone was taking care of him when he was taking care of, literally, everyone else, and then when he disappeared SHE KNEW something was wrong nearly instantly, and ‘remeMBER I LOVE YOU’ I need to stop before this run-on sentence goes on forever.  ALSO they’re canon official, which never fucking happens for my ships so I’m fucking excited, sue me.

FAVORITE VILLAIN: Deucalion

His backstory was well-developed and deep, he was clear with his goals, he actually executed said goals in a logical and timely manner, he was a fucking ALPHA OF ALPHAS, nuf said. 

MOST HEARTBREAKING MOMENT: Allison’s Death

Hands down, the most heartbreaking moment on the show, and I will fight anyone who comes at me with a different opinion. Because like--she was smiling when she was stabbed because she had figured out a way to help her friends and then she died in Scott’s arms and told him she loved him even though they weren’t together she still loved him and he still loved her, and I truly believe that she had zero regrets when she died, and how bittersweet is that???!  But Scott couldn't take her pain because it didn’t hurt anymore, and Lydia had to feel her best friend die and she screamed Allison’s name and if you are not hurting right now are you a monster???!?!

FAVORITE STORYLINE: Eichen House Escape/Dread Doctors in Season 5

It was hard to pick between the Dark Druid storyline in season 3A, but the Eichen rescue/Lydia learning how to be a BAMF Banshee from Meredith while she was catatonic (ALSO ‘Stiles saved me’ I AM DEAD!!!), and the whole la bête du gévaudan thing was great, and reuniting the pack after Theo had royally fucked it up earlier that season, it was all just superb! *chef’s kiss*

STORYLINE WE COULD’VE DONE WITHOUT: Like, the whole second half of the last season, TBH

It was a petty, counterintuitive, and just garbage. The monster was dumb, Monroe is a royal twat (as I stated above), and it didn't have a conclusion.  Like, the fuck? This isn't Game of Fucking Thrones you guys do not need to leave every season finale with so many loose ends it make people want to throw their laptops off of a cliff into a vat of hydrochloric acid.  And it was the LAST SEASON so there’s no hope of fixing this bullshit storyline. ugh, kill me now. 

BIGGEST PLOTHOLE: Scott’s pretty selective “True Alpha” powers

They, like, kind of tried to pass it off as it taking a ton of energy so he can’t always do it all the time.  But he got through a mountain ash barrier to save Deaton and activated his True Alpha but then couldn't get into Eichen to get Lydia out because of the mountain ash...? oh and also where the fuck did Cora and Isaac go? (I, sincerely, hope he’s not still just chinning in fucking France wondering were Argent fucked off to)

OVERALL MARKS OUT OF TEN (10 being that watching this show has probably increased your life’s worth by at least five percent; 1 being the only thing this show has given me is a stomach ulcer and trust issues): 

8.75 out of 10.  This show was a blessing and I would definitely recommend it to other people. (mostly because I love to get people hooked on my favorite shows and then they're stuck and we can be tortured together). 

THE END! Thanks for reading my overly-long and overly-obsessive list.  Do come again soon.  I’ll probably have another of these up next week.  🤍🤍🤍

[sweets-r-cool]

My Hero

(Kirishima x Reader)

In which the girl who’s been cheering him on since middle school and Kirishima himself meet once again...

“C’mon, Bakugo! You know this is for charity, please?” Kirishima pleaded, he really didn’t want to go to this fashion show alone. Generally, all the fundraiser events were for good cause, but they were also incredibly boring. Of course, on occasion they were cool. 

“No way, Shitty Hair! Now leave me the fuck alone!’ Bakugo scoffed, stalking away from the red head. At the moment, they were technically Ground Zero and Red Riot, since they were on patrol. That didn’t stop Kirishima from begging Bakugo right at this moment. 

“You’re publicist probably wants you to go anyways,” Kirishima pressed on despite the ash blonde’s complaints, “This one might not be as boring as the others! There’s gonna be food and-”

With one final mix of a growl and a groan, Bakugo gave in, “Fine! Just shut the fuck up about it!” 

Kirishima smiled, “Okay!” Kirishima stayed true to his word for a while until their break time. On the walk to find food, Kirishima noticed a shop that struck a cord somewhere deep inside him.

The store was called Fairly Sweet, it was a candy store, but to Kirishima, it wasn’t just a candy store.

It was the store you and him had used to go to all of the time in middle school. It was a place for the two of you to just hang out, he really missed those days,but in reality, he really just missed you.

...

The school bell had rung and the teacher dismissed all of you.Today, you felt weaker than normal, and by default, slower as well. You’d forgotten to bring candy with you today and now your body was facing the consequences. You felt dizzy, and as a result you’d dropped your house key but began walking away without noticing.

Luckily, Kirishima was there and he noticed. He cleared his throat and spoke up right as he watched you step out the door, “L-L/n-san!” he called out.

You paused, looking back to where you heard your name, “Hmm?”

Kirishima walked up to you, “You dropped your key-” he explained, but before he could finish your body gave out. Kirishima’s eyes widened before he went to catch you before you hit the floor. “A-Are y-you okay?!” he stuttered, flushed from the fact a pretty girl was resting in his arms. Well, not really, considering he was just holding you up from falling on your face by your shoulders- but still.

You let out a quiet laugh, “Y-Yeah, I’m sorry, Kirishima. You can just leave me here, I’ll be fine,” you weakly brought up a hand in an attempt to wave the issue off.

Kirishima was mildly dumbfounded, he had to process what you said before any words came from his mouth,” W-What?!” He couldn’t just leave you here, on the floor no less! That wouldn’t be very manly or humane of him! 

“You’re probably busy, right? I just forgot to bring candy with me today, but I can make it home on my own if I rest a little,” you explained, sitting up on your own. 

Kirishima still couldn’t believe what he was hearing, you, the girl everyone idolized, was sitting on the floor telling a loser like him he was probably too busy to care about her and to just leave her there... What?

“L/n-san, I can’t just leave you here,” he began to panic, and then remembered two things. Your quirk was one that made it so you required more sugar than normal to function, and also that he had candy in his bag. “Y-You need candy, right?”

You smiled sheepishly, “Y-Yeah... but like I said I-” you began, panicking yourself but were interrupted when Kirishima held out the pieces of candy to you. 

“Take them,” he grinned.You opened your mouth to speak, but he didn’t let you speak, “It’s just candy.”

You nodded, a blush forming on your cheeks, “Thank you...”

The next day, you came to school with what looked like (50) fifty or so cookies in a large bag, a determined look on your face as you plopped them down on Kirishima’s desk.

His jaw dropped.

“I didn’t know what type of cookie was good, so I made different kinds!” You smiled, and thus began the series of you both giving each other sweets until you both ended up just hanging out at the candy shop.

You always knew how to cheer him up.

Around the time he really felt like he couldn’t make it as a hero, all it took was you saying, “You’re my hero!” and Kirishima felt a hell of a lot better when you explained all the times you’d managed to keep track of when he’d saved you in the most simplest ways. He swore you’d stockpile them in the back of your mind, from times you forgot homework, nearly tripped on the stairs because you were distracted, and back to the first day you both actually interacted. 

You’d always convince him his quirk was really cool too, as if your quirk wasn’t.

It was literally called Fairy, and it made you look like one. Sure, you’d bruise easily and needed sugar, but the fact you could shrink yourself was cool too! You’d try countering him with, “Yeah, but my wings don’t even actually carry me unless I shrink!” you’d say, referring to the translucent pair of wings on your back that only made you even more popular, not to your knowledge- of course.

...

Now that it’d been years, since he saw you last, he wondered what you were up to now. You ended up moving away before Kirishima started training as hard as he did, but if he ever heard of a Y/n L/n again, he wouldn’t hesitate to reconnect with you.

“Hey, Shitty Hair! I’m not waiting for you if you’re lagging,” Bakugo scoffed. Kirishima snapped out of it and ran after the impatient blonde. 

~

A number of days passed, and it was finally time to go to the fashion show, Kirishima would’ve dread; however, he did manage to get the rest of the ‘bakusquad’ to come along anyways, so he was sure it wouldn’t be as boring as normal. Besides, it was a fashion show, emphasis on the show. Kirishima hoped he’d be somewhat entertained with the clothing.

He’d heard the theme was mystical, so he supposed that was cool. 

Mina was ranting about it, she was clearly excited for the outfits. Bakugo was already grumbling about how he had better thing to do. Kaminari just came to see the ‘hot babes,’ of course, so as expected, the electric blonde was now going on about them as they pulled up to the place it was to be held at. Sero was just here because the rest of them were.

There was a long line to the inside of the place, Kirishima noted. It seemed like a lot of heroes were going, and that meant tons of paparazzi were here too. He didn’t even need common sense to know that though, there were already flashing lights from cameras left and right. Along with people holding mics pushing and fighting to get to the front of the ropes that held them back from the heroes.

Right as the group made past the security point, they heard a series of curses from behind them. 

Mina turned around first to see the girl who the curses came from. 

“Hi, Brad,” she chimed, throwing what looked like an ID badge at him, “Scan that for me, okay? Bye, Brad!” she said as she ran through smiling as she looked at the annoyed security guard.

When the h/c haired girl turned, she ran straight into Kirishima’s back with a quiet ‘oof.’

Rubbing your nose, you backed up, the red hair of the man you ran into catching your eye over all. 

The man turned around, disoriented and slightly surprised.

“I’m sorry!” you quickly apologized, making eye contact with the man.

Kirishima’s eyes widened in disbelief. “No way!” he shouted, making you flinch as he grabbed your shoulders, bringing your face closer to him as if that would help him see if it was really you better.

Your face had matured a little, as your cheeks were still slightly chubby but also not at the same time. Your hair had grown longer- well, he was pretty sure it had, but the way it was done up into a messy bun made it harder to tell. Yet, you still had the same dazzling deep e/c eyes and the same flowing h/c hair. 

“Y/n?!” Kirishima shouted.

You smiled sheepishly, and Kirishima’s grin widened it was you.

Meanwhile, you were very confused. This man was very familiar, too familiar to be a fan, but not enough to where you could place it. You were sure you don’t know anyone with such bright red hair, and especially not paired up with such a built body. The dude basically towered over you, he was at least a head taller than you even, yet the way he smiled at you like puppy made him a lot less intimidating. 

Smile like a puppy-? 

You visibly stiffened upon your realization, “Eiji?!” When you realized it was him, you waved your hand behind you, signalling to Brad you were fine and this wasn’t just an over obsessed fan. You backed up to get a better look at the tall man. “When did you get so tall?! What the heck?” you couldn’t help the way your smile became so wide it hurt your cheeks.

You also couldn’t help but give into the temptation of hugging him before he even got to answer, Your chest hit his as you gave him a tight hug, trying to make up for all the lost time, and Kirishima’s face almost turned the same color as his hair. 

Meanwhile, the rest of the bakusquad silently teased the poor redhead as he struggled to return the hug, awkwardly patting you on the back just before you parted again. 

Happily, you intertwined your hand behind you back with a smile. You began, “It’s been so-” 

You began when a lady wearing a pencil skirt, blouse, and loud clicking heels came, interrupting you. “Y/n! You’ve barely made it! We need you, right now!”

You flinched as she grabbed your wrist, forcefully dragging you away. You turned sheepishly laughing and waved, “I’ll find you later, okay?!” you shouted, and turned to face forward.

Kirishima was left standing, a blush covering his face ear to ear as he took in all that happened.

~

After being bombarded with countless questions about you and who you were from mainly Mina and Kaminari, they’d finally settled down and found their seats. 

Somehow, they’d managed to snatch ones right up at the front row. No one knew how, they really had no idea, but soon enough, the lights dimmed while the cat walk lights went even bright than they already were as upbeat music played.

Kirishima couldn’t even be bothered by the first model that walked, he was too busy thinking about you.

God, he was really happy. 

What part did you play in this fashion show? That lady seemed pretty mad you came late, though the show wasn’t to start for another hour and a half when he watched you get dragged away. 

He didn’t remember you saying anything about modeling or fashion in general. Though on the days you went out for fun on a day off from school, Kirishima did know you had a good sense of style, so he wouldn’t be surprised if you were one of the designers. Kirishima was very curious, but at the same time, he just wanted this all to be over so he could see you again and talk to you, if he was being completely honest. 

Suddenly, the music and lighting changed once more. The music got quieter and the lights focused at the back where the models came from.

Mina was buzzing in her seat, smacking Kirishima in the arm, “This is it! This is the main piece!” she excitedly whisper shouted.

When you came onto the stage, Kirishima’s breath felt like it was kicked out of him. Goosebumps ran up his arms as his face deepened into a crimson blush the second time today. Kirishima tended to have a clean vocabulary, but holy fuck, out of all the women Kirishima had seen since all this time, you were still the prettiest- still drop dead gorgeous.

When Kirishima’s jaw dropped, he was sure it would fall off if Mina didn’t push it up for him.

The lights followed you down the stage you walked down with such confidence the air and entire mood of the room changed. There wasn’t a peep... until the ceiling creaked. 

You didn’t react at first, as you reached the end you paused to pose but then it creak a lot louder and everyone looked up. 

“Ah-” was all you said when the air conditioning unit began to fall and your face morphed into one of fear.

Everyone stood up, scared for your life but Kirishima was the only one who moved. Jumping over the tall ledge just in time to tackle you as he activated his quirk. Luckily, he was able to push you and himself far enough to when the unit reached the stage, neither you or him was effected by it. 

That didn’t change the fact that what was effected were you and Kirishima’s heart beats, both ready to beat out of your chests from the adrenaline of a near-death experience and also the distance between your faces being close to none. 

As you were both out of breath, you could feel his breath on your lips when things began sinking in. 

Surprisingly, despite the fact every cell in your body wanted to cry, you laughed. Smiling, you spoke, “Once a hero,but it always a hero now huh, Eiji?”  Kirishima pushed off of you. You both sat on your legs looking at each other, still disoriented from the previous amount. “That would’ve left a hell of a bruise, huh?”

Kirishima looked behind him at the air-con unit that surely would’ve crushed you. “I think more than that-”

You moved so you were on all fours as your crawled over the redhead. Kissing him on the cheek, “Thanks, my hero,” the way your words rolled of your tongue stunned him, the blush on his face never wavering, “Dinner?” you suggested.

Kirishima swallowed, “U-Uh- y-yeah, okay.”

[jadekitty777]

Pier

Sorry I’m late y’all! Day 3 was not technically finished and I originally planned to just split the entry into two chapters and maybe finish this one off later but... instead my dumb ass was like: No! Finish it!

So I did and now it is past midnight. I am very tired and things may not be edited properly.

I also gave up the secret on this one to a few readers... this entry is actually a continuation to Umbrella, which I had written a few weeks back. I do recommend reading that one first.

Day 3: Family

Dedicated to: @chiherah/@chiherahcreations

Rating: K+

Pairing: Qrow/Clover, Raven/Tai/Summer

Word Count: 5k

Ao3 Link: Pier

Summary: Every year, it was a tradition for Qrow to head up to Lake Bowen and spend the holidays with his sister's family. It was not, generally, tradition to bring a boyfriend along for the ride. [Modern AU]

~

Qrow flicked on his turn signal, fingers drumming a nervous rhythm over the steering wheel as he waited for the light to turn. Usually, he was relieved once he’d hit this stoplight, as it acted as a beacon marking the last leg of the grueling four-and-a-half hour drive it took to get from his little apartment in Wilmington to his sister’s grand cottage in Lake Bowen. It was a chance to finally stretch out his legs and get tackled down by his little gremlin nieces who would spend the majority of the next three days begging to know what he got them for Christmas. He’d get a glass of iced tea and a hug from Tai and a kiss on the cheek and a cookie from Summer before they both banished him from the kitchen. Spent the better part of the waning afternoon munching on finger food while catching up with Raven and entertaining Yang and Ruby as they tried to tug him into half a dozen different games.

At least, that’s how it was supposed to go.

But typically he didn’t have someone else with him.

“Everything alright?” That same someone else who had also easily picked up on his growing anxiety.

“Yeah, fine.” He said gruffly, turning left as the light finally changed.

“That was convincing.” There was a rustling as Clover set aside the newspaper he’d been reading (the dork had to be one of the last of the dozen living humans left to have a subscription), turning his full attention on him. “Come on babe, what’s on your mind?”

He glanced at him and it was a mistake, because there was no way he could argue when looking into those earnest teal eyes – especially when looking through those cute, wire-rim reading glasses. He sighed, fingers starting up their drum solo once more. “I just want this week to go well.”

“Why do you think it won’t?”

“Because,” He faltered, chewing on the edge of his lip. “My sister’s side of the family isn’t exactly what you’d call normal.”

“So you’ve said, about a thousand times.” Clover replied, “And as I’ve said a thousand and one times, it’s fine. I’m not gonna start judging the people you love just because they aren’t a traditional nuclear family.”

Qrow gave a noncommittal hum. Kept drumming.

He wasn’t really worried about that – though, he didn’t quite forget the nightmare when one of his partners tried to exposit some ‘helpful advice’ about the Rose-Xiao Long-Branwen family’s living situation. Raven had near about shoved the carving knife in Kimi’s chest when she tried to enlighten to Summer how three people sleeping in the same bed will give the children questionable ideas. After getting thoroughly screamed at by three furious adults, his girlfriend had run out of the house in tears – and stole his car to get away from his ‘crazy fucking family’. It had taken him a good two months to get it back, and he certainly didn’t get her back with it. Not that it was a great loss.

Come to think of it, that disaster was the last time he’d braved bringing anyone by at all. Ruby hadn’t even been talking yet.

“Alright,” Clover’s voice broke him from his thoughts. “Let’s try something different. What’s the biggest thing you’re afraid of?”

“Snakes.”

A snort. “Qrow.”

“I mean, it is.” He guaranteed. “They’re scaly and slithery and gross and Raven put one in my bed when I was ten and I never forgave her for it.”

Clover gave his arm a light smack. “About the meeting, birdbrain.”

Qrow rolled his eyes. “Oh, bird insults, how original.”

“I’m a classics kind of guy.”

“You are not Mr. I-haven’t-seen-anything-made-before-the-80s.”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

He opened his mouth, then shut it. Frowned at the street they were driving over. “It’s just, what if they don’t like you?”

His boyfriend tilted his head. “All of them?”

His fingers clenched over the wheel. “What if you don’t like them?”

“All of them?” He echoed with a touch more amusement.

He grunted, slouching low. “Okay I get it, I’m being dumb.”

“No, you’re not. It’s normal to be stressed out about this. I was just trying to point out your fears are probably getting the better of you. Do you really believe all of us are going to just hate each other?” Clover refuted gently. Qrow liked that about him, how he could so easily retrack his mind out of the harmful places they tended to journey to.

“Maybe not all of you. But Raven? Definitely.” He grunted. “She hasn’t liked a single person I’ve dated, ever.”

“Um.”

He shot him a look. “What?”

Clover grinned guiltily in return. “We’ve talked about some of the people you’ve dated and your track record isn’t the best.”

Mildly offended, he snipped back, “Oz was a good one!”

“The guy with four kids?”

“It wasn’t that he had four kids, it was that he lied about having four kids.” When all he got was an arched a brow as if to say ‘that’s better?’, Qrow scowled. “Shut up.”

Clover laughed. It wasn’t long before he was laughing with him. He liked this about him too, how an air of comfort always seemed to surround his boyfriend. He was always ready to lighten the mood with a joke, a smile or his laugh, which even after the seven months they’d been dating, Qrow was still utterly captivated by. More than that, he was slowly coming to the realization he didn’t want to go a day without it – or without Clover.

He knew things were getting serious, which was why he so desperately needed this week to go well. He needed his family to support his new relationship and he needed Clover to accept his strange little family. Because if he got those two simple things, then he would see there was a possibility for a future in which Clover was part of his family.

He knew that fateful meeting was coming closer as he spotted the last landmark they had to cross before they would find themselves at the house. “There’s the bridge.”

As they started over the lake, it was comically cartoonish how he could practically see the sparkle effect in Clover’s eyes as he plastered his face against the window. With no traffic behind them, Qrow slowed the car down to give him a chance to really take it in.

Once, when he’d been invited on yet another date to the beach, he’d joked that Clover was just like his namesake because, as a weed, it was only natural he’d want to suck up as much of the surrounding water as possible. It wasn’t just the sea he was completely enamored by, but also lakes, ponds, rivers, marshes, and anything and everything in between. Heck, even their first true meeting was thanks to his obsession – Clover eventually admitted the only reason he’d left early that day was because he wanted to go out and enjoy the rain.

“As luck would have it, I got to enjoy some great company along with it.” He had said with a wink.

Qrow wouldn’t say he necessarily understood it, but it was impossible not to enjoy the excited way Clover would go on about subglacial lakes or tell stories about how he used to catch newts whenever spring came around and tried to keep them as pets. Topics that he probably would otherwise have found boring was different seeing it through the lens of someone so passionate – and Qrow knew he was just the same whenever he talked about fencing or birds. He still recalled the night their interests made a rare alignment, when they ended up having a long talk about Kingfishers.

He knew if he told anyone about that night, they’d probably just laugh and tell him how dull it sounded. And yet, for him, it remained as one of his favorite dates.

“Man, how incredible it must be just to live out here.” Clover said after they’d made their way across, the lake giving way to land once more and opening into a very small business district. “How does your sister’s family afford it?”

“It’s inherited. Tai’s uncle willed it to him when he passed.” He took a left, heading up towards the lakeside neighborhood. The street itself narrowed considerably, and spindly, white-trunked ash trees flanked them from either side.

“His uncle did?” He echoed, not hiding his confusion.

“Yeah. I don’t know all the details but he basically raised him. So, I guess he was more like his surrogate dad than anything.” Qrow explained, feeling his anxiety spike as the two-story dwelling peeked between dense vegetation. “Heh, actually I’m pretty sure that’s why Tai’s so insistent I come visit so much. He probably invites me over more than my own sister does.” Scratch that, he definitely did.

He pulled down the driveway to the garage situated in the back. As the house was on the waterside, the front was facing towards the lake and the driveway and garage were in the rear. It was a bit strange, but he’d gotten used to it over the years, just like he’d gotten used to the fact the dwelling was one of the most unique in the neighborhood. Made to appear like a log cabin, it seemed more suited for a place in the middle of the woods or up in the mountaintops. Tai’s little sunflower garden framed either side of the doorway, and bushes of roses and birds of paradise were interspaced down the west and eastern sides of the house. From memory, he remembered the front had a large porch with an overhang and a path made of stones that led from the door down to the small, privately owned pier.

The engine was cut, and he heard the passenger door opening - but Qrow stared blankly at the dash, hoping the next ten seconds would be enough to mentally prepare him for the next seven days.

“Hey. Look at me.” Clover’s larger, tanner hander covered his own, thumb brushing over his knuckles that had whitened from their too-tight grip on the wheel. It took him a moment to tear his gaze from the touch to actually do as asked, and was consoled by the tender, reassuring smile his boyfriend gave him. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

He swallowed down the lump in his throat. “How are you so calm about this?”

“’Cause I’ve got you at my side. Just knowing you’re with me gives me courage.”

The words made his heart stutter. It stuttered again when Clover lent forward to kiss him. His eyes slipped closed, giving back as much as he was given. The strength he’d been looking for filled him so that when they finally pulled away and exited the car, the knot that had been in the pit of his stomach had loosened its hold considerably. Just in time, as faint barking from inside definitely announced their arrival, drawing his attention to the back door.

A second later, the screen door came flying open as his youngest niece came barreling out of it, screaming at the top of her lungs, “UNCLE QROW’S HERE!!”

It was hard to tell if the snickers on the other side of the car were from the seven-year old’s antics or perhaps from her odd sense of fashion, as she was sporting a long, red bathroom robe that he swore was Raven’s, what appeared to be an old Flash costume from Halloween, and a pirate’s hat. As she came racing towards him, he realized she also had on light-up shoes.

He lent down, scooping Ruby up and lifting her effortlessly. “Hey there pipsqueak.”

She snuggled into his shoulder. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too.” He kissed the top of her head. “So, what’s with this little getup?”

She pulled at the loose belt meant to hold the robe closed. “Mama said you might need saving, so I dressed the part.”

“Did she now?” He carefully kept the annoyance off his face but oh, was he so getting his sister back for that.

“Uh-huh! I’m Rapid Ruby, at your service!” She tipped her hat.

Before Qrow could think up an appropriate response, a coo of ‘Ooh who’s this little guy?’ drew his attention towards his boyfriend. The man was kneeling on the ground, accepting little licks from what was certainly not a little guy. In fact, it had to be the fattest corgi he’d ever seen in his life. The poor thing was shaped exactly like a swiss roll cake and colored like one too.

“That’s Zwei! Mommy brought him from her office.” His niece chirped brightly, but when Clover looked up at her, she shrunk against Qrow’s neck, trying to hide. His hero.

He rubbed her back soothingly. “Ruby, this is Clover. You remember me talking to you about him over the phone right?” She only gave a little whine. “He’s left-handed, like you.”

That got her to lift her face, looking at the man with a wary curiosity. “Do you have to use special scissors too?”

“I do.” Clover smiled at her, still kneeling on the ground so he appeared less threatening. Or maybe he just wanted to get more kisses from the dog, it was hard to tell.

“And can openers are dumb, right?”

“The dumbest.”

“And, and!” She tapped her chin, thinking hard. “Have you ever taken your mommy’s tea by accident during lunch and had to spit it out cause it’s gross?”

He chuckled. “Not tea, but I did take a swig of my dad’s whiskey once.”

Ruby spat out her tongue. “Yucky!”

“Yeah, it really was.”

“Well,” An orotund voice cut in. “It’s nice to see everyone getting along out here.”

Mostly content to just watch the two’s adorable exchange, Qrow hadn’t notice the newcomer who had stepped outside, a welcoming grin spread on Tai’s face as he approached.

Newcomers, he amended, as he spotted Raven watching them from the threshold.

He juggled Ruby carefully, holding out an arm to accept the side hug his brother-in-law gave him. “Good to see you brother.”

“You too. Glad you could make it.” Tai ruffled his hair before he pulled away to shake Clover’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you! Qrow’s told us a lot.”

“Likewise.”

Before things could potentially get awkward, Qrow cleared his throat. “So Tai, what’s with the cake roll?”

The blond glanced back at him, then down at the dog who plopped down at his feet. “Zwei? Someone dropped him off a few weeks ago. No tags or chip. And you know Summer, she just couldn’t leave him to starve in a cage.”

“Think starving’s the least of his problems.” He grumbled under his breath.

“She’s a vet, right?” Clover spoke up.

“Yeah, we run a little place together. But you’d swear, with how many animals get abandoned there that we’re actually the town shelter.” Tai joked. “We usually end up fostering the ones in need of special care.”

Ruby tugged at his shirt collar, excitement sparkling in her eyes. “Daddy says we’re gonna keep him.”

“No. Daddy said we will discuss keeping it.” Raven chided across the yard, still barring the door like a sphinx waiting for the right answer.

“But maaaa!” Ruby started to wiggle enough that Qrow let her down so she could run over and plead her case.

Now out of earshot, Tai lent over and whispered, “We’re putting a collar and leash in Yang’s stocking and some dog toys in Ruby’s.”

“Bet that thrills Raven.” He murmured back. She’d never been much of an animal person.

“It was her idea.” His eyebrows shot up in surprise, but before he could comment, his brother was slapping him on the shoulder, continuing on in a louder tone, “Alright, how ‘bout we get your guys’ stuff inside so y’all can settle in?”

While Raven brought Ruby and Zwei inside to keep them out of the way, the trunk was popped and the luggage pulled out. Between the three of them, they were able to juggle their bags and the box of gifts inside, the latter being dropped off next to the heavily decorated Christmas tree the moment they entered the great room. As Tai led them towards the stairs, Qrow took a peek at the archway that lead to the kitchen, and though he only caught the back of Summer’s head, he could smell the delectable scents of whatever she was preparing wafting in from here.

“We only have one guest room, so I apologize the accommodations aren’t the best.” Tai was saying after they’d set the bags inside the guest room. The words were entirely for Clover’s sake, as he never said them when Qrow came here alone. Perhaps because the room only housed one bed.

Clover was too preoccupied swooning over the window nook that overlooked the lake to notice such a trivial detail. “I think it’s perfect.”

What a dork. Qrow rolled his eyes, having to fight the smile from his face.

“So, Qrow tells me you like to fish.”

Oh god, now they were never going to shut up. While they chatted, Qrow ducked out of the room to use the bathroom. By the time he was passing by his room again, Tai and Clover were chatting about lure types, so he decided to make his way back to the ground floor, passing Zwei laying in his doggy bed by the couch, and entered into the kitchen where all the girls had collected in.

Raven was at one side, frosting sugar cookies before handing them over to Ruby who was sitting on the counter. Her job was to decorate each cookie with little chocolate chips, peppermint crunch, or cinnamon bites before setting them on the plate (and both were stealing candy pieces to munch on). Opposite them, Yang was standing on a stool to be tall enough to reach the counter, vigorously peeling through carrots before handing them off to Sumer, who chopped them into smaller pieces with the vegetable knife before adding them into a pot. The oven was on, the faint outline of a cooking dish the likely culprit of what he’d gotten a whiff of coming inside.

“Mmmm, I don’t even know where to start.” Qrow said more to announce his presence than anything.

“There you are, you scoundrel! Was beginning to think you weren’t gonna come say hello.” Summer chastised as she walked over to him, Irish accent thick as ever.

He knelt down to accept his cheek kisses. “Thought you woulda appreciated me not immediately invading your kitchen for once.” Tiny, strong arms found their way around his waist. He dropped his hand into golden curls, smiling down at his other niece. “Hey there firecracker.”

She pressed her chin into his ribs, giving him a stern stare that made her look so much like his sister. “I’m making dinner tonight, so you better like it!”

“I’m sure with you behind the helm, it’ll be wonderful.” He snorted. A threat as a greeting hadn’t been his expectation.

She was grinning now, giving one more, “You better!” before hurrying back to her station.

“She’s really excited.” Summer explained, following her. As he poured himself a glass of sweet tea from the pitcher sitting on the island, she asked, “So where’s yer lad? I was hoping to get a good gander at him.”

He leant back against the counter next to his sis as he replied, “Tai got him talking about fishing, so he’s never coming down.”

They were probably sharing different casting methods right now. Not that he could complain – he figured Clover would hit it off with Tai immediately. Similar hobbies aside, they both had easy-going, friendly personalities which tended to blend well with small talk. Knowing he’d also managed to get his shy niece to talk to him so freely was also a bit of a blessing.

But the real problem was the woman currently bumping her shoulder against his. “Fair warning, Tai’s been filling his pocketbook with every fish pun he can think of.”

“And you let him?” He squawked, utterly scandalized.

She replied, completely straight-faced, “They’re reel good.”

Qrow blinked. Blinked again. Deadpanned, “I’m not related to you anymore.”

“Good, get out.”

They glared at one another, the seconds ticking by.

Raven broke first, turning away to hide her smile.

“Hah, I win!” He took a cookie as his trophy.

“Mommy, they’re being dumb again.” He heard Yang murmur.

“Yeah, they’re a buncha dopes.” Though it was meant to be an insult, Summer’s tone was nothing but endearing.

Before Qrow could think of an appropriate comeback, the sound of heavy steps on the stairs and chatter drew attention towards the entryway.

“Then it just smacked me right in the face! I was so shocked it just fell right out of my hands and back in the water.” Tai was saying.

“Well that’s one way to lose a fish.” Clover laughed heartily.

As they entered the room, it was hard to miss the blond’s smirk as he replied, “It’s alright, I’m quite good at catching other types.”

“And dear, what other types are those?” Raven spoke up.

He winked her way. “Types like you babe.”

She looked unimpressed, but Summer started to giggle. “I mean, if you like swordfish.”

“Ut-! Excuse you! I’m a shark.”

Qrow snorted. “A goblin shark, maybe.”

“Careful, you’re in stabbing distance.”

He shifted away, just in case.

Tai was chuckling, nodding to her. “Clover, the shark is my lovely wife Raven and our daughter Ruby.” He waved to the other side of the room. “And this is my other lovely wife, Summer and our daughter Yang.”

“I’m the cook today!” Yang said proudly, brandishing a tiny knife at him. “You better like dinner!”

“Honey, don’t point with the knife. That’s rude.” Summer chastised.

“Oh, sorry.” She set it down to point with a carrot instead. “Now you better like dinner.”

To his credit, Clover managed not to laugh, only saluting her. “Yes ma’am. Thank you for your hard work.”

“Good. If you don’t lie about it, then I like you.” Yang decided before turning back to her work.

Her father pat her on the head as he walked by. “Clover would you like anything? Water? Sweet tea?”

“Water would be wonderful, thank you.” He replied, taking the opportunity to slip over to Qrow’s side.

“So, you’re an Irish lad?” Summer asked.

Qrow winced. He was afraid that would be the first thing she’d dig at. The other woman had been born and raised in Ireland, and had initially only come to the states to study Veterinarian work on an apprenticeship at Cornell Uni. She had had plans to return to her homeland – until she met Raven and Tai, both of whom were also studying at Cornell under a scholarship.

The rest of that incredible and confusing love story Qrow was told through long distance telephone calls while take his own, more modest level courses at UNC Wilmington. He remembered how certain he had been that the two were just pulling his leg the entire time until he actually had Summer standing right in front of him, rather than the ghost of a person his sibling and best friend were feeding him.

He’d liked her immediately. She was funny, quick-witted and extremely compassionate, especially towards animals (“Ravens especially,” she always joked). She was easy to get along with, even if she herself could be a bit meek – but touch anything about her culture with even a hint of pretentious air and a bit of her own brashness would come out as she happily kicked someone down a few pegs.

While trepidation settled in his gut, as inconspicuously as possible, he slid his hand into Clover’s, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

His boyfriend didn’t seem to share his worry, lips only quirking upwards, squeezing his hand back as he answered, “Yeah, on my mom’s side.”

“Did she name you for the shamrock or for the four-leaf clover?”

“The four-leaf.” He took the glass of water as Tai handed it to him, continuing, “I was uh, apparently not expected to make it to term, so my parents always considered me a ‘lucky’ birth. My mother thought naming me Clover was perfect because of that and her heritage. She didn’t know there was a difference. My pa actually told me it started this whole big feud between her and her grandparents because it had offended them so much.”

As they continued to converse, Qrow exhaled softly.

Any air left whooshed out of him as fifty pounds of child thumped against his back. “Uncle Qrooow, this is boring. Can we go play video games?”

“Uh,” He hesitated. He’d never really been one to deny his youngest niece, but he couldn’t just leave his boyfriend to the wolves, so to speak.

A thumb brushed along his knuckles. Clover was still preoccupied by whatever Summer was saying, but he gave him a side-eye and a small smile, before letting his hand go.

Taking that sign, Qrow conceded. “Alright kiddo, jump on.”

“Yes!” She clung to him as he hitched her onto his back and carried her out to the living room, where he let her pick the game.

They jumped around as bubble-blowing dragons until dinner.

~

Qrow liked to think of his vacation mornings as perfectly lazy.

He would roll out of bed maybe at 8 or 9, spend the next twenty minutes milling about sleepily as he took care of his bathroom routine and shuffled through what clothes he wanted to wear. He had it down to an art, wherein he was usually the last to make it downstairs and sometimes no one would see him until after 10. He’d probably benefit from setting at least one alarm so he could enjoy an extra few hours with his family every day – but why fix what wasn’t broken?

Problem was, when his bedmate was 90% of the reason he was staying warm at night and said bedmate was a ridiculously early riser, it was hard to stay asleep longer than twenty minutes past when he’d vacate the space.

So, Qrow found himself shuffling into the kitchen a little after 7, the smell of brewing coffee guiding him to the pot. Everyone else was bound to be awake soon, but for now the only other person in the room was his sister.

“Morning.” She greeted.

“G’mornin’.” He returned, fetching down a mug. “Where’s Clover?”

Raven inclined her head towards the window. “On the dock, somehow not freezing to death.”

He glanced out, seeing the dark outline of his boyfriend sitting right at the edge of the pier, waiting patiently for the sun to rise. He hadn’t even bothered to put on any additional layers, still in the tank top and shorts he’d gone to bed in.

Qrow had a feeling this would be the running theme for the week. With anyone else, he probably would have found it annoying; instead, all he felt was fondness.

The microwave beeping had his eyes pulling away, watching as his sister took out a mug of steaming water. As she steeped her tea, she said, “He’s a real interesting one.”

“Is that a lead in to how you’re about to tell me everything wrong with him?”

“Hmm, well,” She stretched out the word like a car engine getting ready to gun it down the street. “He’s got really stupid hair.”

Here we go. Qrow sighed. Turned away to pour his coffee as he waited.

And waited.

And…

…

He looked up from the cutlery drawer to her, seeing her watching him with unadulterated amusement. “Wait, that’s it?”

She shrugged. “That’s it.”

“You actually like him?”

“No.” She clipped easily. “He’s a bit too much of a model boy scout type and I think that’s annoying. But, I like the you that you are when you’re with him.”

He went back to his silverware search. “Uh, meaning?”

Raven rolled her eyes. “You’re happier with him, stupid.”

“Hold up.” Qrow waved a spoon in the air, “I’m calling bullshit on that one. I was happy with my other partners before this.”

“You also weren’t any less happy without them. It’s, just different, okay?” She ran a hand through her hair, “Tch, you know I’m not any good at this.”

For as little as his sister was saying though, he could hear the paragraphs hidden in between. She’d been with him his whole life; had seen every stupid decision he’d ever made. Like how he was convinced that Sienna was the love of his life when they were only seventeen and when she ultimately dumped him, he acted like his entire life was over. Or at twenty-one, when he had been so convinced that Roman was The One, he asked him to marry him only six months into their relationship – only to find out the guy had a criminal record. Then there were disasters, like Kimi.  Broken trusts, like Oz. Incompatibilities, like Winter, Robyn, Tukson.

There were joys in all of them – but looking back, he didn’t regret the breaks either.

“Nah, I get it.” Qrow stirred in the sugar. “Guess I’ve had pretty shit luck when it comes to relationships, huh?”

“It all went to the better twin.” She joked back, holding up her tea to cheer herself before taking a sip.

“Oh, mom and dad found a long-lost triplet?”

He only laughed when she smacked his arm, ducking away before she could potentially continue her assault, taking his coffee with him. Her call of “Jerk!” followed him as he slipped out the back door. They may have found it unbearable at times to live with each other, but it was comforting to know she still looked out for him. He would thank her later.

For now though, he walked the length of the porch, following the stone path that gave way to wood and finally ended at Clover.

“Didn’t expect to see you up so early.” He greeted as Qrow sat down beside him.

He took a sip of the coffee before setting the mug down on the post next to him. “Well, my space heater left, so I came looking for it.”

“Sorry about that.” Clover wound an arm across his shoulders, drawing him in. “Better?”

He looked out across the lake, where the water was reflecting the colors of the lightening sky. Took in the horizon breathing in a new day, welcoming them to experience it together.

Qrow melted against the other, sincerely vowing, “It’s perfect.”

[theneverendingpurplesky]

So, now I’m in chapter 54 of Heaven Official’s Blessing, but I’ll put my ramblings under the cut again because of spoilers

Ok! Many things, first, well fuck, every time Jun Wu sends Xie Lian on a mission, something goes horribly wrong for him, eh?. On the other hand, man, if I wasn’t already suspicious of the Emperor, I’d maybe start thinking something like ‘huh, he seems like a good guy...?’ he’s such a good actor :/ (and this ‘favour’ he shows... mmm I remember reading once a fic about a guy purposely favouring his enemy so that everyone would think he was blindly biased and therefore make everyone hate more the ‘favoured’ guy, I wonder if this is something like that...). And now we know that a heavenly official CAN pass off as a ghost/demon, so the Emperor could be the White No Face guy (I still don’t know if a heavenly official could pass off as a calamity-level demon thou). And now we know that Xie Lian had a huge fight with Jun Wu in his second ascension (I really want to know what happened to make that happen...)

One more thing: Jun Wu built Xie Lian a huge and lavish heavenly palace, and yet he sent him on a mission to ‘help’ him gather the merits necessary to cover the repairs of the other heavenly palaces... mmmm... if he was going to use the merits to build Xie Lian a lavish palace, why didn’t he use those merits to help Xie Lian cover the repair costs instead of sending him to that mission?? (this is why I feel he’s purposely showing he hugely favours Xie Lian while making others resent him...)

Me before: well it seems that everything already happened to Xie Lian in these 800 years

Me @ me now: YOU FOOL

And holy shit, Xie Lian’s sword (and fighting) ability is so OP!! He’s the definition of ‘looks like a cinnamon roll but could actually kill you’ (Xie Lian: “but at what cost? ;_;”)

Xie Lian feeling awful about burning Paradise Manor while Hua Cheng feels awful about hurting Xie Lian’s arm: that’s true love (and can Xie Lian just marry Hua Cheng a move in with him already?? HC treats Xie Lian better than the rest of those heavenly officials assholes combined, they care about each other and HC doesn’t let Xie Lian put all the blame on himself. Seriously, Xie Lian should marry Hua Cheng, move to the Ghost city, live happily ever after and tell everyone else to fuck off). And when Xie Lian punched Qi Rong for insulting Hua Cheng:

I can’t stand Mu Qing, I don’t give a shit if he’s a tsundere or whatever, I fucking hate his personality (I adored when Feng Xin punched him).

*Reading Lang Qian Qiu idolizing his beloved teacher in the past*: as long as he doesn’t call Xie Lian ‘Shizun’ :P... And about that, I know he’s a grandpa™ but Xie Lian also has such dad energy?? he adopts kids whenever he goes! (so cute).

Me: picturing Qi Rong as the ugliest mofo ever.

Novel: “he looked like Xie Lian”.

Me: well know I have to change my mental picture of him.

I don’t like Qi Rong but I have to say I don’t hate him either (for now). First, I totally enjoyed him insulting certain heavenly officials (Qi Rong: Pei Ming is a manwhore and probably has sores all over his crotch, and Jun Wu is a faker. Me: LMAO 👍👍). Then I imagined a young and little Qi Rong following Xie Lian around like a puppy and adoring him and I thought it was kinda cute; and the fact that he made a 180 turn when everything went to shit... it doesn’t make me feel like he coldly betrayed Xie Lian, but that he basically lost his sanity when his object of worship/his anchor fell apart and it was the way he found to cope with the situation; of course, what he did is awful, and I feel worse for Xie Lian, but the fact that Qi Rong basically went insane and became obsessed with Xie Lian (in an awful way) for so many years makes me pity him a little.

And damn, the situation with YongAn king and Prince An Le was so interesting and frustrating at the same time, MXTX is the best when it comes to creating complex and not-black-and-white situations and characters. And Xie Lian’s outburst was so heartbreaking!! Xie Lian: “I just... I don’t want to see anyone go through what I’ve gone through”

Me:

(BABY! I just want him to be happy!! is that too much to ask??)  

And finally, another crazy idea that I’ll put here in case I’m right later on: I was imagining future romantic moments between Xie Lian and Hua Cheng, and of course, I had to picture a moment in which Hua Cheng would give him his ashes, and I thought ‘but Xie Lian wouldn’t want to accept them... so Hua Cheng could give him the ashes without telling him they’re his ashes...WAIT’ and then I thought ‘what if the ring he gave Xie Lian ARE his ashes???’ (or contain his ashes) I mean, super risky considering Xie Lian wouldn’t know the ring is HC’s life, but I feel this is something Mr.-Pining-for-800-years would do (and Xie Lian said he didn’t know what material the ring was made of...). So, we’ll see I’m right.