#but i feel like that was a bad choice considering daylight savings and all the shit i have this week XD fully like half asleep in my

[spiderh0rse]

freeman's mind notes part 3, e11-15.

e11

would derail the alien attack to call about bad chips

"I GUESS I'LL HAVE TO TAKE THE ELEVATOR." pit.

has seen Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade

wants a grappling hook foe swinging/climbing purposes

admits he keeps doing stupid things. Love a man with self awareness

has a passing understanding of spiderman

does Not try to save the guy in the elevator shaft

has seen willy wonka and the chocolate factory

whistling count three

would love to scare people by crashing through the roof

doesn't feel like climbing anymore! Gasp!

willing to touch a possible death laser. Seems only mildly confused when it doesn't hurt

turret bullets are worse than paintballs

breaks alarm clocks

up to 800 problems a minute solvable with dead man's gun

limbo... TWO

Admires the HEV suit construction

his roommate in college used to intrude on his half of the room. Implies he'd have liked to kill him

"hope, love, and submachine guns"

Tarzan yell :> simian instincts yet to subside

finds the turrets redundant

does a silly lil jump on the slippery floor

no longer cares about the donuts

e12

does at least know the origin of zombies

gman sighting.

willing to own an undead servant

though i can't recognize it by sound alone, I can only assume the language he speaks here is Haitian Creole.

wishes he couldn't care about living or dying

Slur count: three.

wants other people to die for him

fully expects the HECU to pin the blame for the murder on the victim

given the way gordon frequently runs his mouth when scared he genuinely does seem scared here. He was all set to have a rescue team, and now he's left hanging. Ground swept out from under him!

rambles about how he definitely isn't going to think about having killed a guy

stresses to the soldiers that he has a DOCTOR'S DEGREE

limbo mention

seems somewhat bothered by murdering people. Only somewhat but he clearly isn't just brushing it off immediately

climbs some stuff :>

delighted to find surface access

ah yeah the law he references about murder being legal in texas under absurd circumstances? No clue about that. Cool though if at all true

e13

plans to get drunk that night. This of course does not happen

implies he gets drunk every night

...you can't tell people you're on their side by killing them, Gordon

"I JUST WANT TO GO HOME" i getcha, buddy

keeps saying inane things when panicking

"Ehhh," nervous lil noise

repeats "fast climb" or "climb fast" until they blur into each other

just wants to LEAVE

detours to kill another bug. With bullets this time.

saga of impact damage continues

first generation morlok... Says he'll hold off on the cannibalism until the vending machines run dry. Cannibalism lose

thinks you really can't have too many guns

bugged by making the proper choices leading to more danger

FHE SYLLABLE COUNT WAS OFF MY MAN KNOWS RHYME SCHEMES. he's so smart. So snark. If you'll excuse me being a little incoherent for fun

fifteen counts of self defense with an automatic weapon. Of course.

accepts he'll have to get a new job

wants cheetos :'(

he HATES daylight savings time. It's employed by The Man.

expects to be polygraphed at another company

wouldn't mind being a corporate spy and selling out Black Mesa

wants to retire early

oh dude don't pay any mind to freud

string theory crowd includes one Steve and Richard, who may or may not be sacrificing goats, possibly for use in their cookouts. String theory crowd are cultists.

Steve and Richard have called the cops on Gordon. Rude. Probably warranted.

would LOVE to scare people in their offices from the vents. Especially to get the office for himself.

e14

gives up on dying in a hole to get food. this seems to be the only reason he leaves, because he'd get hungry. Is. Is he okay

considers putting an alligator in the air ducts

does NOT like the accusation that he's responsible for the mess

lead can't lie to you

"do you know if leptons are really compound particles?" They are Not! It's a very nerdy way of saying "No!"

"beep" as he presses a button

apologizes repeatedly to some guy he almost shoots

wants to own a water park but considers this far-fetched enough to require a wish

more guns = higher qol

cthulu dogssss makes me wanna pet em

yes the coverup is impractical that's correct. It's happening anyways

"beep beep beep" :)

likes the red lights telling him of the doom ahead

hums AGAIN. first reminds me of a shitty imperial march

he wants to build a house, have a fast elevator, servants.

happy to have a vehicle

doesn't WANT to be fighting nonstop

keeps repeating the alarm beeps

shocked at the giant radioactive PUDDLE i love to launch myself into in game

does seem unconcerned at the thought of going to the doctor. Just resigned.

e15

worst case scenario brain cancer. Cancer mentions up to two

cthulu dogs now named SNOT MONSTER

ticks off all the near death experiences he's had today. clearly thinking about em

contemplates that the spill from the trams is the same one as with the giant tubes

slaps himself TWICE. SIR.

always wished he could ride pneumatic tubes everywhere

he is a gopher! :D

doesn't think dog catchers get given shotguns. They have to bring their own.

would like to prank call a dog catcher with a SNOT MONSTER. and tape the results

knows better than to get bit by a radioactive animal

further analysis and hate on spiderman science

hates awkward pauses

laughs at sending houndeyes flying with shotgun blasts

physics still has priority over shooting stuff

doesn't want to join the military for Two (2) reasons. They'd order him around. They'd make him shave his beard.

"COMBO PLATTER" goof.

very good at hide and seek.

has never tried or wanted to kill the president

wasnt worried about missing a jump, but the catwalk collapsing as he hit it

doesn't know Morse code. Loser.

noise music hater. Incorrect.

grossed out by meat yet again

buddy your grenade won't do shit here

"that's not a rope" sick hlvra- (shot dead)

soooooooo irritated at his blood shell

wants earplugs

[adultswim2021]

Fat Guy Stuck in Internet #1: “Threshold” | May 14, 2007 - 12:00AM | S00E01

Fat Guy Stuck in Internet was the third-most-voted pilot on the Adult Swim website poll, as part of the Night of 1000 Pilots event. It was based on a webseries called Gemberling, named after the main character and star John Gemberling. Curtis Gwinn, who plays the bounty hunter Chains, was a co-creator. The show is about an arrogant hot-shot computer programmer who gets sucked into his computer and gets trapped inside the internet. What a jerk!

The premise of the show is that Gemberling is trying to find his way home. Meanwhile a shadowy figure that heads the company he’s working for (who is like the Emperor on Star Wars) is trying to get him back using the services of Chains the bounty hunter. Fat guy Gemberling gets wrapped up in some plot after meeting Bit and Byte, a pair of siblings ensconced in some sort of fight between good and evil in the digital realm. We also meet a wizard guy who tells Gemberling that he’s some sort of chosen one, and a little head guy who bounces around on a heavy console computer. Those last two are left behind in this episode, when the wizard dude dies and the computer guy is deemed too heavy to bring along. The Wizard’s death scene is reasonably amusing, with him lamenting that he can’t relay important information to Gemberling because he’s dying, while also dragging out his death to redundantly repeat his lamentations while Gemberling loses patience with him.

I feel like I’m forgetting huge swaths of story. I don’t care! I’m tired of writing insanely long write-ups! Seriously, I am spending way too much fucking time on this blog (which may or may not be why I randomly didn’t update last night. Sorry). I remember watching this episode and the second episode (which debuted during an April Fools stunt or daylight savings event or some such thing), and I remember little else about the show. I feel like I mostly did NOT watch this program. Looking back, it’s not as bad as I remember it. I didn’t laugh at a single thing in the entire episode, which is a bad sign for a comedy show. But the thing that I respect about this show is that it’s not arrogantly pretending to be low-budget schlock like Saul. It just IS low-budget schlock.

The difference between those two things is that they don’t seem to make a joke out of the chintzy nature of the show almost at all. They’re trying to make this shit look presentable to the best of their abilities, which is why shows like this are charming in the first place. I admire this choice. It’s a good way to produce interesting art. It’s like if you were filming a sketch where the joke is that you can’t sing very well, and you don’t happen to be much of a singer, it’ll probably be funnier if you just tried really hard to sing well and failed than if you jokingly put on a bad singing voice.

I guess that’s my main takeaway: the show is reasonably fun and well-made (considering), and I’m willing to give it a fair chance. I did watch the first episode of the web series Gemberling, which is a mild pain. The episodes are downloadable from the Channel 101 site in .mov format, and you can play those on VLC. The first episode of that show is about five minutes long, and is roughly 80% the same as the first few minutes of this. I have vague recollections that the wizard character was Bill Cosby in the web series, but I literally don’t feel like watching more of it to find out! Sorry!

The title! Why is it called that? Because: I thiiiink it’s meant to evoke the then-viral movie Snakes on a Plane? Remember that movie? It went viral, so the producers self-consciously tried to make it into a wacky cult movie. I don’t think it worked. I famously never saw it. But that... that, my friend, is a story for another time...

MAIL BAG

Oh yeah, Ephemera Corner. It’s the web series that I already linked to. Please I don’t wanna make or find a screengrab. Okay, Mail bag time now:

Idiot. Drew Carey had three great themes songs. Don't second guess yourself because you have the confidence of a titmouse.

(timidly) chirp.

I'm not gonna lie, I kind of like how fucked up Drinky Crow looks. Maybe the only thing I like about it because the actually show ain't funny. Looks like a PS2 game.

I think it’s unforgivably nasty but to eats his zone

Love the blog but please don't make it a habit to review SNL stuff on this blog. I simply detest Lorne Michaels.

Looks like we have a hater bitch in the blog. Lorne rocks... fuck you pal!

Step off with the David Herman slander my dude. Us Herm-heads don't f around!

David Herman is an idiot (just kidding I like him, he called into Seven Second Delay once as a fan)

[kuiinncedes]

if only the fucking math department here was as good as the computer science department 😭

[crumbledcastle28]

Chapter 16: An Understanding

Warnings: this one really isn’t bad, just a droid death and sappiness.

Author’s Note: Thank you to anyone who has supported this. We are almost there!

(If this is your gif please lmk!)

The sweet moment between the three of you was quickly ruined by a distant explosion, so the Mandalorian woman quickly rushed you all out after she quickly gave Mando a gift.

A Mandalorian jet-pack.

You had seen other Mandalorians use them in the past, and Mando seemed incredibly honored to have one, so if Mando was happy, you were happy.

The team followed the tunnel towards the smell of sulfur, trying your best to track the lava flats. You didn’t have much of choice. That was the only way out.

As you walked down the tunnels, you held the sleeping child in your arms, keeping him close to you. Mando walked next to you, stealing glances at you as you walked. You would glance back, but he would always face forward once more, trying to make it seem like he wasn’t starring. You would always smile at him when he would turn away, obviously embarrassed.

Who knew you could make a beskar covered warrior like that be embarrassed?

You felt at peace. At home. For once you actually had one. You didn’t even know how to describe the feeling. It’s like your anxious brain and beating heart finally subsided. Like your body relaxed, and you had nothing to fear. Sure, the team was still stuck in these tunnels and the exit would be swarming with stormtroopers, but you had backup. A team. A clan.

It felt like a new start.

Once you finally made it to the river’s edge, a boat was leaned up against the land. It had obviously seen better days and the droid inside hadn’t been used in a long time.

Great.

Mando and Karga tried pushing the boat, but that did no use, so Cara raised her rifle and shot the boat free from the hardened lava.

You smiled at her and chuckled, thinking about the fact she had outsmarted a Mandalorian and a well known Guild member. You were not surprised in the slightest.

You could’ve sworn she laughed back.

Everyone climbed into the boat, and by some miracle, the droid inside sputtered to life. It stood up, raising its paddle and dropping it into the orange liquid beside it. It then said some droid gibberish, which IG-11 presumed was a request.

“I believe he is asking where we would like to go,” IG said.

“Downriver. To the lava flats,” Karga said, and the droid set to paddling.

Mando was to your left, while Cara was at your right. The child had woken up once more, using his energy to chew on your thumb. Mando brought his hand up to his helmet, activating the thermal scanners.

“That’s it,” Karga yelled, pointing to the growing light coming from the end of the tunnel.

“We’re free!”

It had been a long time since you had heard something like that.

“No,” Mando said, squashing your elated mood.

“Stormtroopers. They’re flanking the mouth of the tunnel. They must know we are coming.”

“Stop the boat,” you said sternly to the ferry droid. The droid, however, gave no sign that he actually heard you.

“Hey,” Cara said firmly, walking up to the droid.

“She said stop the boat,” she said before shooting the droid’s head off.

You appreciated Cara’s act of defense for you, you really did, but it didn’t do any good. The boat kept moving.

There was no other way. You had to stand and fight.

You pulled your longspear from your back and tucked the child deeper into your arms. You had fought stormtroopers before, why would this time be any different?

“They will not be satisfied with anything less than the child,” IG said, and you turned your head to look back at him. Your confused expression accurately represented the feelings of the rest of the group as well.

“This is unacceptable. I will eliminate the enemy, and you will escape.”

“You don’t have that kind of firepower pal,” Mando said in reply.

“You wouldn’t even get to daylight.”

“That is not my objective,” said the droid. “I still have the security protocols from my manufacturer. If my designs are compromised, I must self-destruct.”

“What?” you asked the droid.

“I am not permitted to be captured. I must be destroyed.”

The droid looked at Mando and said, “Sadly, there is no scenario where the child is saved in which I survive.”

“No,” Mando said, moving closer to the droid.

“You’re not going anywhere. We need you.”

“Please tell me the child will be safe in your care,” the droid said, now looking at both you and Mando.

“But you will be destroyed-” you began to say.

“And you will live,” IG said. “I will have served my purpose.”

He looked to Mando and said, “There is nothing to be sad about.”

“I’m not…. sad,” Mando said, but you were no where near convinced. His voice was the only way for you to humanize him, and emotions were very easily traced on the voice. When you can’t see someone’s face, the voice is all they have. You had gotten good at that.

It seemed IG had gotten good at it too.

“Yes, you are. I’m a nurse droid. I have analyzed your voice,” IG said before coming to the child and brushing his hand along his forehead.

No matter how little Mando wanted to deny it, the droid was your saving grace.

The droid then stepped into the boiling lava, and started making its way down towards the exit.

You watched the droid with wide and curious eyes. You had never seen a droid be so… selfless. You had always seen droids as mindless robots who only acted out of survival, but this one gave its life for you.

You wished you could repay him somehow.

When the detonator on the droid finally exploded, the child in your arms lifted his ears and watched. Even though the droid had been there for a small time, he was still the reason you and the child were alive. It seemed like the kid was loosing a friend.

You could see the pain in his eyes, and you wished you could take it all away from him and put it into your own.

Once the boat finally drifted into the tunnel, you saw the bodies of the stormtroopers on either side of the bank.

Maybe this actually… worked?

But, like many… many… times before, the scream of a tie fighter ruined all chances of an easy departure.

“Moff Gideon!” Cara shouted before raising her blaster and shooting at the aircraft. Mando and Karga immediately joined her, while you used your longspear to shield you and the child from any blaster fire.

The ship’s canons rained fire on the group for a couple seconds before the ship went roaring completely over your heads.

“He missed,” Karga said in relief.

“He won’t next time,” Mando said. The ship was already starting to turn back around.

“He mentioned he knew you,” Mando said to you, referring to when he was trapped in the town not even an hour before this.

“Yeah….” you said.

“I’ve pissed him off,” you chuckled out, and Mando looked at you with a breathy laugh as well.

“Hey,” Karga said suddenly. “Let’s have the kid do the magic hand thing.”

Oh great, you thought to yourself.

“Come on baby! Do the magic hand thing,” Karga said to the kid while wiggling his fingers.

The child only giggled in your arms and waved back, and you let a light chuckle come out of your nose.

“I’m out of ideas,” Karga said.

“I’m not,” Mando said, turning around to get the jet-pack from the boat.

You watched him walk away with a slight smirk on your face. You believed in Mando more than anyone, and you prayed he had enough training to know how to use that thing.

You saw the tie fighter making its way back to you through the corner of your eye, but you continued to watch Mando. He attached the pack to his back and then locked eyes with you before shooting into the sky like a rocket.

You watched him with a beating heart as he flew right in front of the tie fighter, allowing it to go under his feet. He then hooked his grappling cable onto the wing and used the jet pack to propel himself onto the cockpit window.

Even though you were scared out of your mind, you still managed to smile at the sight above you.

Your Mandalorian was incredible.

Mando’s blaster did almost no damage to the cockpit door before Moff Gideon jerked the ship to the left. The ship was starting to spiral, and your awe quickly turned into worry.

Mando was holding on with everything he had.

He all of a sudden let go and went soaring through the air. The left side of the ship completely exploded, which sent the ship careening to the ground. It burst into smoke on impact.

Barely a second later, your Mandalorian landed before you in a slight crouch, before standing to his full height.

The smile on your face said it all.

He chuckled slightly at your shocked and happy expression before taking the child from you and holding him in his arms. You walked to stand beside him and stare up to his face, proud and joyful.

You got a Mandalorian.

Karga and Cara stood before you two with equally shocked expressions

“That was impressive Mando,” Karga said. “It looks like your Guild rates have just gone up.”

You grinned at Karga, enjoying his little tease.

“Any more stormtroopers?” Mando asked.

“I think we cleared the town,” Cara said with a laugh. “I’m thinking of staying around just to be sure.”

“You’re staying here?” Mando asked, equally confused as you were.

“Well, why not?” Karga asked. “Nevarro is a very fine planet, and now that the scum and villainy have been washed away, it’s very respectable again.”

“As a bounty hunter hive?” Mando asked, and you once again giggled at his bluntness.

“Some of my favorite people are bounty hunters,” Karga said with a bit of a chuckle.

“And perhaps”- he said while placing a hand on Cara’s shoulder- “this specimen of a soldier might consider joining our ranks.”

“And you, my friend”- he said while turning his attention back to Mando -“will be welcomed back into the Guild with open arms.”

Mando looked to the child in his arms, beaming up at him with utter adoration. He then looked to you at his side, and you gave him a smile that said I’m with you. With whatever you choose.

“I’m afraid I have more pressing mattors at hand,” he said, turning his head back to the child.

“Well you better keep watch of this one,” Karga said to Mando while gesturing to you.

“She could take your place at the Guild in a second,” he says, while snapping his fingers for emphasis.

“And she would do a damn good job,” he says, and you laugh in reply.

Mando gives a slight nod in agreement which only makes you laugh harder.

You can’t recall ever laughing this hard.

“Y/n,” Cara says, and you divert your attention back to her.

She is trying to look at you, but she just can’t meet your gaze.

“Listen… I… I’m really sorry. The Empire hurt me a lot and I just couldn’t…” she chokes out.

You could tell she was trying to apologize to you. For when your identity got revealed, for doubting your loyalty, or anything in between. She was obviously struggling, so you decided to help her along.

“Cara,” you said, and her eyes met yours.

“Your reaction was perfectly understandable. Truly. There is nothing to be sorry for,” you say, and a flash of relief skates over her eyes.

“I just saw how you were with Mando and the kid today and I…. I owed you an apology,” she said, and you smiled at her.

“Thank you, Cara. I’m glad we could come to an understanding,” you respond, and she smiles back at you. A genuine, relieved smile.

“As am I,” she says while leaning forward to caress the child’s ear.

“Take care of this little one,” Cara said to you and Mando. You gave her a respectful nod, acting as a promise that you would.

“Or maybe,” Karga added, “it will take care of you.”

You looked to Mando with a light smile, and you could tell he was grinning too.

The weight of guilt and shame had been lifted off of you. The people you cared for most forgave you. They looked at what you did right in the eyes, but looked past it, and saw you. You were sure it would take some time for them to completely trust you, but they were willing to try.

You couldn’t ask for anything more.

Tag list:

@leahkenobi @pinkninja200 @farfromjustordinary @440mxs-wife @bookloverfilmoholic @impala1967666

[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS DAYLIGHT Vol. 2 Sakamaki Shuu [Track 2]

Original title: 遠のく心

Source: Diabolik Lovers Daylight Vol. 2 Sakamaki Shuu

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Toriumi Kousuke

Translator’s note: O O F. Shuu is being rather harsh in this, it’s hurting my heart. While I do understand that having someone continuously meddle with your affairs can be annoying, I do wish he was just a little nicer to the MC because she honestly deserves better than to be treated like a walking bloodbag. >( Hopefully he’ll redeem himself in the following tracks.

Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4 ll Track 5 + Epilogue

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

Track 2: Distancing Hearts

You enter the classroom.

*Rattle*

“...I knew it’d be you.”

You frown.

“Approaching me even at school...You really never learn, do you?”

You ask him what he was up to.

“I considered taking a nap but I had a hunch you would show up sooner or later, so I stayed awake, knowing there’s nothing more frustrating than having you interrupt me right as I get to the best part. I bet you came because one of the teachers asked you?”

You flinch. 

“Pretty much spot on, huh? Reiji at home and the teachers at school. Are you really obedient to just about anyone? In that case, why not listen to me as well when I tell you to stop meddling with my affairs?”

You try and explain yourself.

“...Annoying. What will I gain from attending class? Not only is it dull, but I’ll only grow even more sleepy.”

You beg him to return to his classroom.

“I’m not going back. I’m going to take a nap here. If you get what I’m saying, then don’t get in my way.”

You nod.

“...You’re giving up surprisingly quick today. Are you feeling under the weather?”

You shake your head.

“I don’t really care, but it’d be really nice if you could always be like that. It’d save me a lot of trouble.”

You protest.

“Stop refusing everything. Just leave already. ...Pwaah...Guess I’ll have to start over again from track one.”

*Beep beep*

You leave.

*TIMESKIP*

“Nn...Zz...Nn...Hm?”

*Rustle*

“Oh...Classes are over, huh? Nnh...”

*Rustle rustle*

“Ah? Something fell down...”

*Rustle*

“This...Her blazer? She knows Vampires don’t catch colds, doesn’t she? She really loves meddling with my affairs, huh? I don’t want to return to the classroom with this thing, so guess I’ll hit up the infirmary instead. There’s beds over there as well. ...Pwaaah...”

Shuu gets up and goes towards the nurse’s office.

*Rattle*

“...Ugh. All the beds are taken? ...Hm? This scent...”

He looks around.

“This one, huh?”

Shuu approaches one of the beds and moves the curtain aside.

*Rustle*

“Haah...Just like I thought, there she is. Does she really always have to be at the same place as me? Hm...Guess I can lie down here then.”

He joins you in the bed.

*Tick tock tick tock tick tock*

“Nnh....Zzz...”

You wake up.

“Zz...”

You call out for him.

“Nnh...Shut up...Don’t shout...It echoes inside my head...”

You ask him what he is doing here.

“What do you mean? I’m sleeping. All beds were taken when I first came here, and you were resting in one of them. So I decided to lie down here as well. That’s all.”

You complain.

“Pwaah...I’m surprised you can make such a fuss right after waking up. ーー Or rather, what have you been so flustered about this whole time?”

You try and explain.

“What do you mean ‘not here’?”

You get even more flustered.

“Haha…You’re like an open book. It’s not like I’m sucking your blood or anything. We’re just lying down so don’t exaggerate.”

You complain.

“…’Bad’, you say? Something which would be bad if others were to see us…”

*Rustle*

“…Would refer to this, no?”

*Rustle rustle*

“Oi…Don’t throw a fit…Have you forgetten? There’s someone resting on the bed next to ours.”

You flinch.

“I told you all the beds were taken, remember? That’s why I had no other choice but to lie down on this one as well. Unless they left at some point, they should still be there. They might even be listening in, curious as to what is going on over here. …The teacher wasn’t around when I got here… (whispers) but he might have just returned by now as well.”

You stop fighting back, going quiet. 

“Heh...You immediately calmed down. Just how easy are you? You pretend to be troubled by my actions, but deep down you just love this, don’t you? The scent of your blood...See? It has gotten richer. That proves you’ve gotten worked up. Did you really believe you could still hide that from me? Unfortunately, things did not go your way.”

You seem confused.

“Nobody has taken notice of us despite the fuss you made earlier so it’s quite obvious we’re the only ones here, no? Too bad~

You get upset.

“I said they ‘might’ be here, remember? Not my fault that you decided to twist my words. Or what? Would you have preferred for them to be around?”

You pout.

“Don’t get upset over something so small. It’s annoying.”

You get up from the bed.

“Wait. Where are you going?”

You explain.

“Haah...? You’re really gonna bother going back when the bell will ring in just a few minutes? …Don’t be ridiculous.”

*Rustle*

“…Why not stay here a little longer?”

*Rustle*

“Ugh…Don’t move. Unlike our bed at home, it’s cramped here. If we stay like this, I’m pretty sure you’ll calm down a little as well, no? I don’t mind sucking your blood to ensure you behave either, but I’m feeling exhausted after teasing you. I’m gonna sleep.”

You ask him if he intends to sleep while embracing you.

“Yes, like this. There’s nobody around so what’s the big problem? …Huh? For some reason, you feel different in my arms compared to usual…? Like you somehow seem…harder or…thinner? Were you always like this? Haah…Well, I guess it doesn’t matter. Mm…”

*Rustle*

“Nn...What? I was just about to fall asleep.”

*Rustle*

“...Oi! Don’t get up all of a sudden!”

You frown.

“What do you mean, ‘this whole time’...?”

You try and explain.

“Haah...? ‘A bother’? Are you referring to what happened in the music classroom, perhaps? Did you take that to heart?” 

You avert your gaze.

“Ahー You want to complain because I’m actually trying to keep you by my side now even though I always talk as if you’re nothing but a bother to me, huh? You get upset when I give you the cold shoulder, yet complain about thecopposite scenario as well? ...Haah...That’s exactly what makes you so troublesome to deal with at times...I feel like it’s a waste to even ask this, but you won’t say you’re dissatisfied with the way I treat you, right? If you believe I’ll treasure you because you’re trying your hardest for me, you’re not being funny.”

You frown.

“What? If there’s something you want to say to me, then spit it out.”

You tell Shuu that you just want to know what you mean to him.

“Will you finally be satisfied if I tell you?”

You nod.

“...Close your eyes.”

You hesitant.

“You want to know what you mean to me, right? ...I’ll teach you, so close those eyes.”

You close your eyes.

“What you mean to me, huh?”

Shuu suddenly bites you.

“Mmh...Nn...”

*Gulp*

“Nnh...Why are you so surprised? I’m a Vampire and you’re a woman with exquisite blood. What else did you expect me to do? If you were still expecting anything else at this point, there’s something wrong with your head. Nn...Mmh...”

*Sluuurp*

“Hah...But your blood doesn’t taste that good today. It had a strong fragrance, but it’s not sweet.”

You admit to not feeling all that great. 

“Ah...I thought you were acting kind of off, but there’s actually something wrong with you, isn’t there? I didn’t realize because I’ve only ever come to the infirmary to skip class. ...Oh. Does that mean you lend me your blazer even though you were already feeling under the weather yourself? Haah...”

*Rustle*

“I’ve had enough. It’s not even good. ...Having to deal with you tired me out.”

Shuu gets up and leaves.

*Rattle*

“...Che. I actually had such a nice nap as well, then everything went to shit right after waking up.”

He walks through the hallway.

“There’s no point in expecting or wishing anything from me...Why doesn’t she get that already?”

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

[ohmygoodnessgraciouss]

Reality Check - Chapter 7

4400 words later, here we are! 

Summary: Memories.  

Notes: This is just to give you an idea on the reader’s past!  Obviously, it doesn’t include every single moment Loki and the Reader have spent together.  I’d have a lot to write.  But this gives you an idea of how it all started. They’re so cute together!  I’ll include more about their story later on, I think, but for now... Here’s the origin. 

Masterlist

“Who are you? And why does the Allfather want you here of all places?” Loki, one of the princes, asked, watching you browse the library. You had just come into the palace for the first time a week ago. The library was one of the many rooms you hadn’t explored yet.

“He noticed that Frigga and I have been meeting constantly, researching together, and he wanted to know what I knew about it. He wanted to learn more.”

“Learn more? Doesn’t he know everything?” He sat down, continuing to watch you gaze at the books.

“Not everything,” A sly smile was on your lips. “There are many things he doesn’t know of yet. Worlds that he has yet to explore and magic he’s yet to seen or experience. Frigga and I are hoping to introduce him to this new knowledge. Once we figure it out too, of course.” You pulled out one book, its cover worn and torn from old age. You sat down next to Loki, flipping through the pages.

“Interesting. You never told me your name though. How do you know my mother so personally that you’re on a first-name basis with her?” He asked.

You froze momentarily, trying to come up with an answer. “Let’s just say she’s a close friend of mine. We met a while ago and that’s about the extent of all that I can say right now. It’s a secret,” You placed a finger on your lips, winking at him. “The name’s Y/N, by the way. You’re Loki, right?”

“Yes, that’s my name. How did you know? You don’t look like anyone else here given your,” He looked down at your outfit, “Clothing of choice.”

“Your mother talks about you a lot. She cares about you very much and I’ve heard a lot. She thinks that I don’t listen to her but she’s told me many stories about you and your brother.”

“Hopefully nothing too humiliating, I’ll assume,” He said, smiling sheepishly.

“Nothing of the sorts, I promise you.”

~

“Do you just hang out here every day? Don’t you have princely duties to do or something?” You teased him, walking into the library. It seemed like you ran into him every time you went for a book in the room.

“Not every day, but most of the time to avoid my brother,” He shrugged. “No one ever notices when I’m gone anyway,” He muttered under his breath. He began following you down the aisles of books.

“Clearly I notice when you’re gone if I noted that you’re here all the time,” You said, grabbing a book from one of the many shelves. Loki was standing nearby, leaning against a pillar. “Can I help you?” You asked.

“Just figured I’d follow, in case you needed something from the top shelf, darling.” He grinned.

“I’m more than capable of grabbing a book on my own, thank you very much, prince,” You rolled your eyes playfully at the man, who only grimaced when you said that.

“Oh, don’t call me that. Mother used to call me that every time I was being improper and now it only gives me traumatic memories.” He said, trying to hold back a small laugh.

“Oh yeah? Well, perhaps I’ll only use it when you accuse me of being too short to grab a book. Besides, I don’t need my height to help me get something from a high shelf, I could always use-” You stopped short, unsure of whether or not you could tell Loki. Frigga always told you to try and keep it a secret from as many people as possible.

“Use what?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Use a step stool,” You said slowly, knowing it didn’t sound believable at all.

“A step stool?”

“Absolutely! Those things are very helpful, even for taller people! You don’t want to hurt your shoulder by stretching it, right?”

“I can’t think of a single time where I hurt it that way, but if it helps you sleep better at night, we’ll say that for now.”

You smiled at the man, who smirked at your reaction. He knew you knew that there was no saving this one. “So what were you going to say before you tried to lie?”

“Would Frigga be mad if I told her son about what’s going on with me? Probably not, but I’m not telling you in case she does,” You said, shaking your head at the god. He frowned, before the smirk returned on his face once again.

“You’re far more interesting than I thought you would be.”

“You once thought I was dull?”

“Oh, absolutely. Most people here are. But you won’t even tell me what’s going on between you and my mother. I can’t say that I’m not intrigued.”

You looked at the shelf before you, keeping your eyes off of Loki on purpose. You grabbed a red book from one of the shelves, clutching it close to your chest. “Looks like I have what I need. I’ll see you later, prince.”

“Didn’t you need something from the top shelf?”

You continued to walk away, refusing to look back at him. You bit back a remark. “I never said I needed one from the top shelf, you did. Besides, if I need one I’ll go find a stepstool first.”

~

The next time you entered the library would be quiet. You looked around the large room. The chairs were pushed into the tables, the small oil lamps were off. Curtains were pulled back, allowing the daylight to seep in, but not so much that they reached the books.

You breathed a sigh of relief, being unable to find Loki. It’s not that you didn’t like him, but you didn’t feel like talking to anyone right now. Frigga exhausted you of your energy during your session today. She wanted to see the full extent of what you could do and all you wanted to do was sleep.

Unfortunately, you had to grab a book on light magic before you could go to your room. Frigga requested you to grab it before you slept, and besides, it would’ve been a far journey after sleeping to go all the way back to the library. It was easier to catch it on the way back.

You walked down the aisles, scanning for the book. It was a large one, the size of a dictionary. It couldn’t be hard to miss. Of course, though, it was on one of the higher shelves.

You groaned outwardly and stepped onto one of the ledges. It gave you enough height to reach the book at least. Easily pulling the black book out, you cheered while stepping off the ledge. Unfortunately, not everything could be as easy as pulling a book out.

A book that was next to the one you wanted slid out because of the opening next to it, falling off the shelf. Before it could hit the floor you held your hand out. It stopped two inches off the ground. You breathed a sigh of relief, before moving your hand up. The book began to move along with your hand, swiftly being placed with the other books.

You lowered your hand, exhaustion really hitting you now. As if it wasn’t bad enough that you wasted energy this entire afternoon on practicing, you used up even more just so that the book wouldn’t crash on the floor. No one was even there, it’s not like it would’ve disturbed anyone.

Or so you hoped.

“What are you?” A voice made you jump. You turned around to see the one man you constantly see in the library. Loki.

“What do you mean?” You asked, rolling your eyes slightly. You weren’t in the mood to tolerate his attitude.

“The way you lifted that book without laying a finger on it. Any magic user would leave some kind of residue on it, whether it’s visible to the naked eye or just something another user can sense. You had neither,” He commented, walking up to you.

“What do you want me to say, Loki?”

“I want you to tell me who you are.”

“Do you promise not to tell anyone else?”

“Cross my heart.”

~

“The Phoenix Force, you say? I’ve only read about it in fairy tales. It’s not supposed to be real.” The two of you were now sitting in a separate section of the library. It was a study room, completely empty, meant only for the royals. You sat across from Loki, who watched you in amazement.

“It’s as real as you and I, clearly. I didn’t exactly have these powers ten years ago. I don’t even remember how I got them.”

“The Phoenix Force is said to only show itself to those who are near death. Perhaps you nearly died once and you suppressed the trauma.”

“Maybe. Either way, that’s why Frigga and I have been working closely together. They couldn’t help me where I’m from. Frigga says that word had spread around that the Phoenix Force made an appearance, which led her to me. She was the only one who would even approach me.”

“Why?” He asked, leaning back in his chair.

“I didn’t have any control over it. Everyone feared me because of it. When Frigga walked up to me I just assumed she was the only one brave enough to end me right there. She used her own magic to protect herself because I kept flinging objects left and right, turning them from glass to gold.” You shook your head, trying to get the awful images out of your head.

“Is that why you won’t tell anyone? You’re afraid of how they will react?”

“Since when were you a therapist?” You scoffed.

“Since I found out you’re more powerful than you look.”

“Careful now, prince. I’ll start thinking you just want to use me. We both know the Phoenix is a lot stronger than a lot of magic when it’s controlled.”

“Then I challenge you to a duel.”

“What?!”

“Clearly you underestimate what I’m able to do, and I’m interested in what you can do now. Let’s have a duel. May the best man, or woman, win.”

“What if your mother finds out?”

“With Thor’s coronation coming up, she’ll be far too distracted to worry.”

~

The two of you met out in one of the gardens. No one was around. The trees were much larger than you thought at first, easily towering over anything nearby. They created enough shade that shielded you away from the blistering sun. The grass beneath your feet was still warm, gently brushing against your ankles.

On any other day you would consider this a beautiful day. Today, you dreaded the gardens. Loki planned for the duel to happen today, only two days after you told him about your powers. He was waiting very impatiently for this day. A part of him simply wanted to test your powers, but another part, you knew, was to try and prove himself.

You hadn’t known him for long, but the conversations the two of you shared were enough to tell you what he was like. He was kind when he wanted to be, but he was slowly being corrupted by the favoritism that lurked within the royal family. Anyone could see that Thor was favored, but not everyone could see how much it affected the younger brother.

Whenever the two of you spoke about Odin, venom would lace his voice. When he spoke of Thor or Frigga, it would be replaced with love and admiration. It was clear he loved his family... Well, except for his father.

If you ever started talking about Odin with him you would find a reason to change the subject. You liked when he talked about anything else. He had a passion for reading, learning about various cultures or magic. The first time you asked you could see his eyes light up. It was clear that he was used to being ignored by everyone.

“It’s beautiful here, isn’t it?” His voice broke you out of your thoughts. You looked at him, noticing that he had his Asgardian armor on.

“It is. I can see why you chose this place now. Is this where you go when you’re not in the library?”

“Sometimes. It’s the perfect place to get away from everyone. Not many people venture this far for a garden. Most of the other gardens are much closer to the castle.”

“Which is why no one will be able to see us having it out as well,” You deduced.

“Precisely. Now, are you ready?” He grinned.

“I was born ready.”

The battle quickly began with Loki running to hide behind a tree. You followed him quickly, looking behind the tree he just went to. He wasn’t there, leading you to back yourself up against the tree, scanning the area for him. You spotted him only a few yards away, grinning at you.

Something felt off about it, so you cautiously walked up to him. He sent a blast of energy at you before teleporting once again. You dodged it, sending you somersaulting away. Before you could get up, you felt a kick send you into a tree.

Almost as if it was an instinct, you lifted your hand, sending a cosmic flame at him. His eyes widened as he quickly backed away from the heat. It was too intense for him, but it was clear it meant nothing for you. “Pyrokinesis, hm? Interesting.”

The flame died out and you could feel the amount of energy you lost. The adrenaline rush was enough to make you stand up though, backing up a little to create some more space between the two of you. He pulled out his blades, watching you carefully.

He threw one of the daggers at you, barely missing your shoulder. Your eyes widened as you tried to figure out your next move. You didn’t have a lot of time though since it was likely he would throw the next one immediately after.

Sure enough another dagger was thrown by you. You jumped back in fear, the dagger skimming past your arm. A small cut appeared, blood beginning to form on top of your skin. Glancing down at it was your big mistake as he took advantage of that.

Grabbing you by the wrists he slammed you up against the trees. Because you were too shocked from the action and too weakened by what you had done earlier, you were practically powerless in this situation. His eyes flickered from your eyes to one of your wrists. “You’re hot,” He commented.

“Well, I’m flattered, but I already knew that,” You said sarcastically. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Asgardians don’t use that word? Oh, nevermind I’ll explain it later. But yes, I’m hot. I always am anymore since I’ve gotten this power.”

“It makes sense. What’s concerning is what you would do if you had to face an Asgardian summer. I fear you’ll burn to a crisp,” He joked. Loosening his grip on your wrists, he backed off.

“Well let’s hope that doesn’t happen. I quite like living,”

He laughed lightly before turning serious. “Your technique needs improvement and it’s clear that you need to train more with the Phoenix. You show potential though. I can see why my mother is meeting with you about it so much.”

“Yeah, I’m hoping she’s able to help me with that. It seems like it’s uncontrollable at times. It just wears me out if I use it too much.”

“That’s expected. You said you’ve had it for less than a decade, correct? No one would expect you to be a master at it yet.”

“Keep in mind that ten years is like a week for me,” You mentioned.

“Even in human years, that’s not long at all for your special case. You need a better understanding of what the Phoenix Force is before you can master it. Fortunately for you, I know exactly where we can learn more.”

~

The weeks went by and you spent more and more time with Loki. You bonded with him more than you thought you would. He was a good person, just closed-off because of how he was brought up. He wasn’t used to being someone’s main focal point. Odin had always pitted him and Thor against one another, so to be able to relax with someone without worrying about his father was... Different. It was new.

Which brought him to this exact moment.

“Will you come to the coronation with me?” He asked, closing the book he had open in the library. It made you jump because it had been so quiet for so long.

“What?”

“Come to the coronation with me.”

“As your date? Aw, Prince Loki, I’m honored!”

“Date?” He questioned.

“Oh for the love of- It’s another thing from Earth that you won’t understand. But wouldn’t that give a different message for everyone if I walked in with you?”

“Perhaps it will. Would there be a problem with that though?” He asked, almost innocently. He knew exactly what he was doing. He needed you to agree to it though. With the planned attack for the coronation, as long as he knows you’re close by he can ensure your safety as well as his mother’s.

“No, not at all. I would love to join you,” You smiled. He smiled back at you sweetly.

“I’m sure you will enjoy it. You’ve never seen an Asgardian celebration. Now that is something that will truly be a blast.”

“And how else would I see it unless I’m standing next to one of the royals? I’m not going to know anyone there though. I hardly ever have a chance to talk to Thor on a normal day!”

“You need not worry about that, Y/N. I’ll make sure you enjoy your time and you get to meet some of the nobles. Most of them are quite dull though so I warn you now they may convince you that these celebrations are actually a bore.”

“What ever would I do without my prince in shining Asgardian armor?” You smirked and rolled your eyes.

“Have an even duller time at the party,” He remarked.

~

Loki had been in his room all day. You weren’t sure if you should knock on his door or not. It hurt to not see him today, but whether it was Thor’s banishment or the stress of Odin falling into Odinsleep, it had brought Loki to lock himself in his room. Even Frigga, who stayed by Odin’s side 24/7 anymore, worried for her son. She worried so much that she actually came to find you.

“Y/N? May I ask for a favor from you?” She asked, smiling softly. You were in one of the abandoned halls of the palace, practicing levitating large objects.

“Yes, of course. What can I help you with?” You asked, worried about her. If this was something so big that she left Odin’s side then it’s something you would help her with immediately.  

"It's about Loki.  I know you two grew rather close these past few weeks and I'm happy about that, truly.  He needed someone to be there for him, especially with everything that has been going on.  But recently he found out about something new and that's why you haven't seen him as much.  I know you may have been thinking that he was hiding because he is required by the Asgardian law to take up the throne now, but it really isn't.  He needs someone, needs you to talk to him.  Can you please check on him?" She asked politely.

"Frigga, you know I would love to, but what if he just needs to be alone?  Maybe he doesn't want to see me.  Maybe this is something he needs to do by himself."

"Trust me, dear, he doesn't want to do it alone.  I know my son and this is not something he wants to face alone.  He wants you to ask him about it."

You thought about the choices you had here.  You had considered asking him about it anyway, but now that Frigga was asking you to do it too... How could you say no?  You looked up at her and nodded.  "I'll check on him."  

Her smile grew and she thanked you, leaving the hallway.  A small echo could be heard as the door shut.  You groaned, flicking one of the objects up, letting it crash onto the floor.  How were you going to approach him?

~

You made your way to the door, standing in front of it for a few seconds before you even knocked.  You spent five minutes finding your way to his chambers, trying to figure out what you could possibly say to him.  How could you figure that out though?  You don't even know what's wrong.  

"Who is it?" His muffled voice came through the door.  

"It's Y/N.  What's going on, Loki?" You asked.  IT was one of the rare times you had actually called him by his name.  You always called him "Prince" to annoy him.  The fact that you're not doing it now alerted him that he should really be serious about this.  

He opened the door, letting you see him for the first time today.  His eyes were bloodshot and a little puffy, but other than that he looked fine.  With a simple illusion he would've been able to fool anyone into thinking that he was okay.  "Come in," He said, opening the door even more to allow you to walk in.

He shut the door behind you, sitting down on the bed.  You took a place next to him.  "Do you want to talk about it?"

Loki took a deep breath, trying to figure out where to start.  "Have you ever discovered that no matter how hard you try to be accepted you'll never truly fit in with everyone else?" He asked.

It was a rhetorical question.  You knew him well enough now to know that much.  

"That's how I feel right now.  I knew that I never had a chance for the throne against Thor, but I finally know why.  I thought that maybe it was because he was the older brother, or perhaps it was because Odin always liked Thor better.  But now knowing, now truly knowing what the reason was..." He drifted off, fighting back new tears.  You placed a hand on his back, rubbing in circles.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," You warned him.  He shook his head.  You remained silent after that.

"I was raised to always believe that frost giants were monsters.  Asgardians fear them, and what we fear we fight.  We kill them, keep them in their place at all times.  That's what Odin did to me because he never told me that I was one of them." He raised his hand, watching it turn blue.  

You gasped unintentionally, watching his pale skin turn blue, markings beginning to rise.  You watched as it took his entire body, his eyes turning red.  He stared at you, watching your every movement with sadness.  He knew that if Asgardians feared what he was, then so would you.  

He wasn't expecting your next reaction.

"So what?"

His eyes widened and he blinked in shock.  "What do you mean?" He asked nervously.

"So what if you're a frost giant?  You're still Loki to me.  You're still that arrogant, annoying prince to me.  You just look different this way."

"But-" He tried forming words, but for once he didn't have anything to say in response, "But I'm a monster."

"Yeah, sure you are.  To everyone else, maybe.  But to me you're just the prince who I consider my only friend in this place.  No one else talks to me willingly.  I try to come up with conversations with them, but you're the only one who actually wants to talk to me.  You've helped me through training sessions, reading, studying, and coronation parties and I don't think a monster could do that.  So in my eyes, you're not a monster."

"Besides," You decided to continue.  "I'm a monster too, so that makes two of us here."

"What do you mean you're a monster?" He asked, confusion littered across his face.  He seemed almost hurt by the idea of you believing you're a monster.

"Everyone around me feared me because of my powers.  I couldn't go anywhere without them cowering away or trying to kill me.  So trust me, I know exactly how that feels.  It hurts.  It hurts like hell to be treated like a monster, but Loki you are not one to me.  I know you're not one to your mother either." You took one of his hands in yours, squeezing lightly.  He was surprised you were able to.

"How are you doing that?" He asked.

"Doing what?"

"Holding my hand," He responded.  "Frost giants' skin is supposed to be so cold that it can harm anyone who touches them."

"I think you forgot that the Phoenix makes me a lot hotter than other people.  It looks like we balance it out that way," You smiled.  "Do I feel hot?"

He focused on your joined hands, taking his thumb and rubbing your knuckles in circles much like you did with his back.  "No, not at all."

"See?  We may be exact opposites but that works in our favor for once.  Opposites attract, clearly," You laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

He smiled, his eyes turning back to their normal shade of green.  His skin turned back into its regular pale complexion.  He could feel your hand become hotter, or at least it felt like it became hotter as he went back to his normal form.  "Thank you, Y/N."

"Of course, Loki.  We'll be monsters together.  Complete opposites, but that's what helps us stick together," You grinned.  He pulled you into a hug suddenly, taking you by surprise.  His arms locked you in place, holding you close to him tightly.  You wrapped your arms around him, enjoying the feeling.  

"Thank you, darling."

You may not have been able to help him through much, but this was something you could do.  His lust for power and his fear would corrupt him later on, but for just this moment in time you could make him feel safe and loved.

And he loved it.  

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Next on Reality Check: 

The Reader is checked on and interrogated by S.W.O.R.D.  After discovering who Geraldine really is, the team discusses a plan for getting back into Westview.  With a mission to snap Wanda out of it, the team also discusses the identities of everyone in town.  The only two who didn’t have ID’s were Scott and Agnes.  Who were they? 

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[flowerflamestars]

I'm in a very angry-with-the-IC-and-Rhys-in-particular mood, and since I'm just rereading Daylight I was wondering, what is going through Rhysand's mind throughout the events of Daylight? Because it's basically his entire life CRUMBLING around him and I'd love to see the mental gymnastics he does to fit it all into his "I'm the good guy, actually" narrative. Or just his general reaction.

this is a FABULOUS question, thank you!

Daylight! Rhys is, in my opinion, the closest to a canonical (pre-acosf) character representation that I go for. He's so SO fucked up, and sublimating and burying all that trauma has, of course, failed, and it's all manifesting, in all these different directions.

To understand the level on which Rhys is losing his shit, it's important to go back to the very beginning: Rhysand, to Rhysand, is always, always the hero of the story. The down on his luck knight with truth in his heart. The struggling, just man.

He CANNOT seeing beyond himself for even a second. He casts himself in the most important role, as the only person whose personal consequences exist.

His mother, at probable great risk, takes him to Illyria to be trained- the precious, first-born, godly son of Night. To learn to fight- to learn, presumably, her culture- to see what that culture is reduced to, a harshness he will on day have the power to change. Rhys had to be, at some point, a great hope for Not High Fae denizens of the Court.

What does Rhysie learn? Illyria is harsh. Illyria is bad. Backwards and cruel.

He hates his father for...presumably, the crime of being a pretty traditional High Lord? Rhys hates the cruelties! the Court of Nightmares! the broken system!

So what does Rhys do when he has power? he fires everyone. He doesn't like them, he doesn't like whatever they did under his father...so instead of hiring new people, he removes himself entirely from a potential role in changing/mitigating those policies. See also: the Court of Nightmares, cowed occasionally, but not in any way governed by Rhys.

But he's the hero! He's destroyed the oppression! His Court of Just his Bros is made of women and Illyrians!

(Rhys removed the terribleness from his direct experience...because only his experiences matter)

So, Rhys in his head: the struggle, the hero, the man just trying to do it right.

Which brings us to Daylight....and Feyre. I know we can attribute the way the characters stop even remotely being sympathetic between acomaf and...everything else...to poor writing, but I also think there's some (maybe accidental but PERFECT) character work there: in acomaf, pre-acknowledged bond, Feyre is an important possession/ally- she's on the same level as the other members of the Court of Dreams, if the jewel of the collection, a high point in the story Rhys tells himself: HE saved the HERO OF PRYTHIAN

(which...let's not even touch on the fact that the deal he makes in acotar is CREEPY and he can only justify it later. she wasn't someone he wanted to work with in acotar- she was a vulnerable, hot young woman he fully took advantage of)

And then they're mates.

And then, slowly but surely, Feyre's personhood disappears. For two reasons: 1) Feyre is on a pedestal so sky-high it blots out everything. Good, pure, true hero Feyre whose adoration Rhysand needs like air. the happy end of his story, the prize and the salvation, the one who sees him.

and 2) ultimately, to Rhys, Feyre is an extension of him. A symbol: his happiness, his peace, his endless power, what he fought to keep.

She's his whole anchor staying sane, which isn't great, considering...ya know, everything. But the Story is Over. They are Happy.

Except- except- nothing is over. Post fifty straight years of torture, a freefall into war and fuckery, teen marriage and literal death, the consequences for all those things AND THE SHIT RHYS WAS PULLING LONG BEFORE AMARANTHA TURNED HIM INTO A CHEW TOY, are still present.

But now, he has something to protect. His golden future. His puppy Mate.

Because Feyre's safety is the safety of his power and vice versa. Anything he does is justifiable because the loss of Feyre is Not an Option. She is Happy. They Are Happy.

It bleeds into everything- and then it intensifies, because this is the breaking point.

The Az/Lucien thing and Feyre incredibly hurtful blindness? No Rhys isn't going to interfere- Az is so private anyway- if Feyre believes its a romantic bond, Feyre is right, she knows her sister, not that it matters because Elain is totally out of her mind.

Sending Cassian to Illyria? Illyria is a backwards shithole right? They're fierce fighters and that's what Rhys values them for- as the hammer of his power- and nothing else? why would there be anything else? Look at them fighting and hurting each other.

Nesta runs and Cassian is left throwing himself in battles actively trying to die and Rhys? Rhys is totally smug. A problem that hurt Feyre and his brother is GONE.

But it's not gone. Az isn't talking to anyone- and Rhys thinks this probably means Lucien is probably, finally fucking him- but even Feyre understands that Azriel knows where Nesta is. When this is proved (when Elain surfaces and they have the very fun kitchen fight) Rhys isn't happy- but he understands. Azriel has always felt responsible for broken things.

But thats not his job, it's Rhysands job, and Rhys has already made that tough choice for the safety of his own: Nesta has no place here. When she resurfaces inevitably, broke and wanting something, Rhys will stop her before she gets close enough to upset (hurt) Feyre. It's his job.

Cassian goes missing, and Rhysand sets upon what will become his eventual move: Illyria's value is strength. (a martial strength that belongs to RHYS). But they think they can take from him? They can destroy their own best chance? (Rhys recognizes Cassian's value to Illyria even while, you know, ordering him to slaughter Illyrians) They would threaten his power? hurt his family?

Rhys will not allow a world to exist where Feyre can be hurt.

If Illyria can't be controlled, Illyria will be put down, like the rabid creatures they are. (They were always backwards, Rhys thinks. Freeing my mother was the one good thing my father ever did)

But Cassian lives.

Rhys asks Azriel if he's been cursed. Az laughs in his face.

And Cassian is a terrible enemy to have. The strategies the loyalists are using? His, filtered through Rhys. The magical contingencies? Cassian and Az, trying to prevent bloodshed.

Feyre thinks, for a long time, that maybe the rebels have Nesta. What else could compel Cassian to even care? these people keep trying to kill him. they want to kill Rhys. the brothers suffered in the frozen mud at the hands of these monsters, what is Cassian doing?

And then the massacre happens.

And Feyre sick to her stomach, cries when she hears. Rhysand thinks about a little hazel eyed boy who'd never had a bed, a present, who'd been nothing until Rhysand plucked him up- a little boy who'd grown into a dangerous man, who'd just killed every person who ever contributed to his pain. Rhys thinks, knowing he'll have to punish Cassian for this, that it's over.

The camp lords are dead, it has to be over.

(Azriel hears and understands- because he knows damn well Cassian was something before Rhysand, and after despite him. That beneath those repeatedly broken ribs is a heart that was once so big so save him, grown strong enough now to save everyone who was like them: forgotten, abandoned, used.)

It's not over. The mountains are burning. Banners fly on northern wind in a language long dead. They're singing, the spies say, they call him dawn. Loyal-heart-as-dawn.

It's Cassians name. Not that Rhys, who never knew more than a few vile insults in the language of his mother's ancient, proud people, understood it then.

Rhysand, the long-suffering hero of his own story, has been betrayed.

He can risk no more- it's time to end this madness. It's Feyre's idea to use Elain- it's Feyre who is left crying, a betrayal Rhysand will never forget- when Elain, who they've given everything, Elain, perhaps just as broken and wretched as her eldest sister, refuses to help keep Feyre safe.

(Elain refuses to participate in what she sees as genocide, but as we've established, what consequences exist? the ones Rhys feels right in front of his face)

Azriel, Elain, and Lucien run.

Of course, if both Feyre's sisters are capable of betraying her, of course, both of Rhysand's brothers would as well. They are one in the same, aren't they? Marked by destiny, by fate for this hard and terrible work- of course it hurts. Of course- but Rhysand will stop it from hurting Feyre any more.

There's one force in the world that can stand in truth against Illyria. The Darkbringers- their ancestral, ancient conquers.

(Yes, I do think Rhys knows the shitty, shitty history of his court! He just doesn't care! He didn't do it. He's different. He's in Velaris with the common people. He has wings. He's not his father.)

(He is, in fact, far worse)

When he thinks of it, it seems perfect. Illyria will be destroyed- a loss, but a safe one. Keir, will, almost certainly, also be destroyed or at least critically weakened.

Rhysand will stand alone, the man who was willing to do anything for peace. He will rule over an emptied playing field, secure in a world where Feyre is safe.

The Hewn City empties, the armies march- Rhysand holds tight Feyre's hand, says nothing about the fact that nothing, nothing, will stop Keir from killing anyone in front of him when battle starts, and reaches once more for Cassian's mind.

His brother, his friend, his loyal right hand- he begs him to come back. To come home. That they can put down this rebellion and in his love for Cassian everything can go back to how it is meant to be, all of them together.

It does not occur to him to address the hundreds dead. The system he was complicit in and responsible for that ground a culture to dust and ash- what matters is brother against brother should never have turned, and Rhys, in his kindness, will offer Cassian this last chance for honor.

Rhys doesn't want Cassian to die- he wants Cassian by his side- but he will drown the world in blood before he'll lose his crown and hope and Feyre.

And when Cassian dies, falling to the earth in Rhysand's arms, Rhys thinks of penance.

A circle closed.

But of course- Cassian wakes. Death is not done with her right hand anymore than the contract between Lordship and land in immutable. Cassian brought the magic back, brought Illyria back.

Rhys is fighting for something personal- Cassian is fighting for a whole world and future, with everything in himself.

When the new border is drawn, Rhys doesn't despair- sure he's shaking, he's covered in Cassian's blood, his twelve thousand year old walls are smoking and the whole world smells like fucking Nesta Archeron- he's been the victim of curses before.

He won't let it keep him down. He'll be fine. He has Feyre, they're safe. Illyria is going to implode- and maybe, maybe, he'll save some of those that remain when the violence is too much, when they need a real High Lord.

They'll come home. Just like Feyre's sisters will. Rhysand's brothers. They fought for peace and Velaris has it- it is their home.

It's what they fought for, the happy ending, and it's all worth it.

It has to be worth it.

[evolutionsvoid]

Before I had even started this trip, I already had the worry of getting lost. Driving for hours on end through places I had never even heard of, it seemed inevitable. Despite that, I had no other choice but to go. What life I had here was gone, and staying would only have me stewing in the rotten memories and people that plagued me. Though this opportunity was a weak one, it was my only shot out of here. So I packed up my meager things and drove off into the unknown. Best to take my chances out there, then remain in this prison a minute longer. My anxiety born from this journey drove me to prepare for every possible scenario. The biggest worry was getting lost on the way there, but with a mountain of maps, a GPS and a folder of addresses, numbers and contacts, I figured I would be safe. After all, once you get into the barren countryside of flat fields and endless dirt, all you had to do was pick a road in the right direction and drive. I needed to go west, so that was what I did. I drove on for hours, but it felt like I had hardly moved. What a strange feeling it was, to travel hundreds of miles and see absolutely nothing. This trip was supposed to be a transformation, a needed change for me to finally regain control of my life. Yet, I felt no joy or wonder. I guess I was expecting to encounter breathtaking landmarks and travel through strange new places, evidence that the world was bigger than my ignorant little hometown. Instead, I drove through a flattened world of grass, corn, dirt and the occasional pathetic tree. Not exactly the scenery that inspires awe. This repetitive land was probably the reason why things turned out this way, as it was impossible to get a bearing when everything looked the same. Hours had passed since I turned onto that empty road, and yet I failed to notice that things were not right. I ignored the fact that I hadn't seen a single street sign the entire time, or that there were no forks or splits to be found. To be fair, it was long into the night, so most of the blank landscape was smothered by the darkness. I just held onto the idea that I was almost to the next town, if you could all any of these places that. What little civilization I had seen was a sad collection of wore down store fronts, crumbling bars and ancient gas stations. They sat in clumps along these forgotten roads, sharing much with the greasy roadkill that was spattered on the asphalt. Pathetic as these places were, I still yearned for them as I drove down that endless road. Surely one had to be nearby, I just needed to go a few more miles. I followed this delusion for quite some time, pretending that the lack of signs or markers wasn't something to be concerned about. Eventually, I just had to give up. With the clock on my dash showing some obscenely late time, I knew I needed to pull over to collect my thoughts. Looking over my supplies, I found my GPS worthless and the maps just as useless. With no service or any indicators that could help me pinpoint my position, these intricate foldouts might has well have been blank. It was then that I realized that I wasn't lost, as it felt like it was something far worse. When one is stranded in a place they don't know, one of the biggest issues is the overwhelming amount of options. Be it the woods or some unknown city, you are faced with many directions and choices, but you have no clue where any of them lead. Do I go north or south? Do I take the parkway or the back roads? Which exit on the roundabout gets me going the right way? With all this, it is obvious why clueless people wind up going in circles. That was what I considered being "lost" was. This, was something quite different. I didn't have a ludicrous amount of options, rather, I only had two. Go forward or back. The problem was that both choices felt wrong. The path forward had no hope or potential, no signs that suggested anything was to be found up ahead. That choice led to an unknown future, but it seemed more enticing than turning back. Though I didn't know what lay ahead, I did know what was behind me: absolutely nothing. Turning around would mean driving a countless amount of hours until found out where civilization had stopped, but I had no clue where or when that was. I would just be retracing my steps through a known wasteland, losing both time and gas. In the end, the unknown path ahead seemed more comforting. Surely I was bound to run into something eventually, even if it was a rusty road sign or some hermit's shack. Though my mind was made up, I chose not to continue just yet. I was drained of all energy, and I knew it was a poor choice to drive in such condition. It was the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere, so what harm was there to grabbing a quick nap? Perhaps sleeping until the sun returned was a good choice. Daylight could reveal clues about my whereabouts, ones that were currently blotted out by the dark. A rested mind would also work way better, and it would probably solve this problem in a second. So I made sure my car was properly off the road before I turned it off. I locked the doors and leaned my seat back as far as I could. It wasn't long after I closed my eyes that my exhausted body finally received some reprieve.   I awoke awkwardly, as if some unremembered dream or nightmare had snapped me from my slumber. It was still night, though I didn't know how much time had passed. I looked at my phone, but my groggy mind couldn't interpret the numbers it showed. I tried to stretch my limbs in the cramped space, but it gave very little relief. My drowsy state made me think that I had only dozed off for a few minutes, as I sure didn't feel any better. Perhaps this cluttered, stuffy car wasn't the best place to get some beauty rest. I figured I would try to go back to sleep, as my options at the moment seemed just as bad as before. As I wriggled around in an attempt to get comfortable, my eyes looked out into the night and saw it. It was funny how strange it seemed at that moment, though I knew fully well what it was. The slow flash of a yellow light, a sight I was quite familiar with, but my tired brain struggled to understand it. I leaned forward for a better look, but it didn't help in the slightest. With my car turned off, the world was pitch black, save for the errant star and that pulsing light. It sat way off in the distance, but there was no mistaking what it was. It took me a second to understand that this was a good sign. A human construct like this suggested civilization, and also a cross road. Perhaps up ahead was where I could find some identifying signs or directions to a nearby town. With sluggish joy, I went to turn on my car and pursue this miracle, but then the thought struck me from out of the blue. How come I didn't see this before? Sure, I was tired and disoriented at the time, but a bright yellow light blinking in a dark void seemed impossible to ignore. I had sat in this spot for a good while before I had decided to get some rest, so how come I didn't see it then? As I struggled to properly answer this question, I looked to the light and noticed something odd. Looking at it now, after a few minutes of gathering myself, it seemed to be bigger. It flashed brighter and larger than before, but perhaps it was just my imagination. I sat there for a moment and soon confirmed that this was no illusion. The light seemed to be getting closer to me. I looked to my dashboard, thinking I had accidentally put the car in neutral and I was slowly rolling forward. The little arrow pointed firmly on the P, so that couldn't be the answer. When I looked back up, the light was nearly blinding. It also seemed to bob and sway about, as if blown about by a weak breeze. The realization that it was the one moving froze me in my seat. I had no clue what it was or what was happening, so panic took over and short-circuited my body. A turned into a statue in the front seat and only stared with wide, terrified eyes. I did nothing but watch as the light bobbed closer, until it was at last upon me. At first I believed it to be heading right towards me, but in those few horrified moments, I saw it walking upon the very road I had traveled. It strolled down the middle, treading upon the cracked asphalt and faded lines. When the light came perpendicular to the front of me car, I at last could see what it was. I recognized the three colored traffic light that hung over every nearly every road, but the rest of it refused to be understood. I saw a metallic skeleton, built of rebar and steel. It bent and twisted into a bizarre lattice, creating limbs and body from an iron spider's web.  It walked upon four legs, and the blinding light hung from a long, arching neck. Something black and wet hung in clumps from its body, creating a sticky cloak over its wiry bones. As I sat frozen in terror, the metallic beast strolled down the road. It walked with slow tired steps, its blinking head hung low. Though it was clearly no creature of flesh, it made me thinking of an exhausted horse, weary from a long day's work. It didn't approach my car, it just kept walking by. It was only when it was passing my driver window that it paused. It stopped in its march and slowly turned its pulsing head towards my vehicle. I could not tell if it was looking at the car or me, but I clearly caught its attention. It gazed at me with a single yellow eye. Above and below sat the green and red, but they remained dark and cracked, like eyes that had long gone blind. It made no move, it just sat there for a moment to watch. After a few seconds, it sadly lifted its legs and continued on its march. The bobbing light continued down that endless road, the blinking growing weaker as it went deeper into the night. I sat there until that yellow light grew small in my mirror, becoming just another star in the darkened sky. I didn't know what to do, or even think about it. Though it showed no aggression, I dared not turn around and pursue it. Instead, I simply turned the car on and pulled back onto the road. I gave up on any thought or reasoning, my mind refused to accept what I had seen. I just got into that dusty old lane and began to drive onwards... -------------------------------------------- “Caution” A design I came up with a way back, which fittingly enough was around the time I went on my roadtrip. I think it came to be through a mashup of traffic signs and weird art sculptures.

[smeraldos]

Love by Daylight (1/2)

➸ characters: Seokjin x Reader

➸ genres: Sailor Moon!AU, fluff, sort of e2l

➸ tags: sly friends, petty enemies/secret crushes, running away from the mortifying ordeal of being known

➸ words: 2K+

➸ summary: The day you find out who your suave partner in saving the world is, you're absolutely, positively, without a doubt sure you'll be over the moon. You'll be so happy you'll think you're dreaming. Turns out you're right. You do think you're dreaming. Because this? This can't be real. You're being pranked. Someone, somewhere, is going to jump out and say you're on Candid Camera. (Please.)

>> PART 2

When the lights fade and the facades fall, this is what you’re left with: Tuxedo Mask without a mask, you without your moonlit glamor. Tux the civilian is handsome, you can tell, and this is it—the moment you’ve been waiting for.

He lifts his face.

The youma's words come rushing back: Let the truth be known, the city’s deepest secrets shown.

Tuxedo Mask is none other than Kim Seokjin.

Suddenly, you’re reminded of a crystalline city; people bowing before you; Seokjin taking your hand, your matching rings gleaming in the light. Was it a memory or a dream?

You stand there, dumbfounded, until Tux/Seokjin dons his mask and brushes past. “Come on, Sailor Moon,” he says, sensible enough to use your alias. “The coast is clear. We’ve got a fight to finish.”

☾

“Why does it have to be Seokjin?" You whine, collapsing into bed and disturbing your sleeping cat. (In your defense, he was on your pillow. Which you’ve told him numerous times not to lay down on because his fur would shed.) Luckily, Agust is acquainted with your dramatic side and simply gets up to move.

“Well, why do you have to be Sailor Moon?” He points out. “It could have been someone less bothersome.”

“Hey,” you retaliate. “You’re the one who came to me. You could have given anyone the Lunar Key.”

“I didn't have a choice.”

“What do you mean you didn’t? You could have walked away and picked someone better, just like that.”

He scoffs. “Not when it’s the Queen.”

“Queen-schmeen." You flop back onto your bed, the springs creaking in protest. "I bet Her Royal Highness is on her throne right now, all nice and comfy. She couldn't care less."

Agust doesn't reply.

At first, you think it's because you've won and nothing else can be said, but when the silence stretches on, you know something is off. You sit up to see Agust no longer curled into himself, but sitting. He stares out your window into the night, his normally keen eyes empty. "She's dead."

Judging by his somber tone, she'd meant a lot to him. "I'm sorry," you whisper.

Agust sighs. "No need to apologize, kid. She was your mother, after all."

"My mother?"

"Not now," he amends. "But she was a long time ago, when you were the princess of the moon and Seokjin the prince of the earth.”

☾

The next morning, you head to school on time.

Your mom—present day mom—was surprised to see you up early, and Jeongguk called you out like the bratty brother he was (wow, no morning run today?), but the truth was you couldn’t sleep.

Last night, Agust recounted your past, how the dark eclipsed the moon. Although the queen tried her best to protect the kingdom, it was to no avail. Seokjin died in the fray, and you fell shortly after, helpless to save your beloved. In the end, the queen sacrificed herself to give you and Seokjin another chance at love, her people another chance at happiness.

A chance to rebuild the Silver Millennium.

The thing was, you didn’t know if that was what you wanted. Not that you’d want the Dark Kingdom to reign, but you weren’t sure whether you wanted to rule in your mother’s stead. Or marry Seokjin. Past you might have wanted to, but the you now could barely stand him. And neither could he. Or so you thought. You’d gotten along just fine with Tuxedo Mask, even grown a crush, but that wasn’t enough to warrant a marriage.

“Hello? Veen to Selene*?” Someone nudges your shoulder, and with a start, you notice Mina looking at you in concern.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“Nothing yet, but it looks like you’ve got something on your mind. What’s up?”

You’re about to tell her when you see Seokjin approaching, his uniform blazer neatly pressed.

“Morning, ______,” Seokjin says. “Mina.”

“Morning,” you reply, ready for whatever biting remark he’d say next. But once Namjoon comes up, he leaves. That's it.

Even Mina, who hardly sees the two of you interact, notices. "That's the first time I've seen you guys polite. It's weird. What happened?"

After a discreet look around, you grab her by the elbow. “He's Tux,” you hiss, but Mina doesn’t look the least bit shocked. Her face breaks out into a giddy grin, like a child who’s finally tall enough to get on the big kid ride.

“You knew?” You ask, a little hurt she didn’t tell you.

She pouts, squishing your cheeks together. “Don’t be mad. You don't know how hard it was to keep it a secret.”

◑

You don't blame Mina, for the most part. It would have been better if you hadn’t known who Tuxedo Mask was, and vice versa. You felt like Cinderella running away from the ball, her beautiful dress giving way to rags and ratty shoes. If the prince caught up to her then, she’d probably be humiliated.

Just like you are now.

Tuxedo Mask has seen you at your most embarrassing moments, fighting to have the last word (or milkshake) as Seokjin, and also at your best, saving civilians with grace. You've only wanted him to see the best of you, for him to think of you as the perfect wonder-girl heroine everyone else saw you as, but he's seen almost every side. You don't know what he sees in you now, if anything. And frankly, you don't want to know.

"Have you ever thought that maybe he's thinking what you're thinking?" Mina asks. "You've seen all the good and bad in him, too."

"But it's different when he doesn't have a crush on Sailor Moon!" You say, exasperated.

"Oh, I wouldn’t be sure about that if I were you."

Seokjin thinking of your alter ego that way is embarrassing, but considering he's also Tuxedo Mask...now your face is red, you can feel it. Red as roses in bloom. "You're joking, right?"

"Why don't you wait and see," Mina replies, as cryptically as when she was Sailor V and you hadn't known any better. Having sympathy for you, she gives you a warm smile. "Don't stress out too much, Moon. You're amazing either way. Just talk to him."

◑

You think there's some reconnaissance to sort out first. When you walked into Crown Arcade and saw Seokjin talking to Jimin pretty intently, you didn’t want to interrupt...okay, who were you kidding? You chickened out.

But Jimin is his best friend, so he'll know how Seokjin feels the most, right? It's the next best alternative to actually speaking to Seokjin, which, well, you aren't ready for. Case in point: you've done the impossible and made yourself scarce. You aren’t about to break your streak now.

So the instant Seokjin leaves, you walk up to the counter. Jimin looks up from sprinkling a milkshake. "Hey. The usual?"

"Yeah, just double on the chocolate."

"You got it," he says, passing the drinks he finished making to a server. You watch him blend milk into ice cream, then reach over for a new cup to pour the mixture into later. It's all done with practiced ease, and you marvel at how quick he is, not to mention how beautiful the finished milkshake looks after. The chocolate is perfect, the whipped cream a cloud of snow drizzled with dark syrup.

Jimin slides it over with a grin. "Mademoiselle."

"Why, thank you," you say, digging in with gusto. This is exactly what "stressed is desserts spelled backwards," meant: Jimin's milkshakes never fail to kick your worries down a notch.

"Good?" He asks.

"Mhm," you mumble, more to your milkshake than to him, when the thought that you haven't paid yet crosses your mind. Oh gosh. You pull your purse onto your lap, but Jimin chuckles, stopping you.

"I've got it covered. Besides, I heard you weren't yourself lately."

"Really?"

He shrugs. "From the way you're devouring that, it's kind of hard to believe…"

You take an extra large mouthful to prove his point.

"But you only lay on the chocolate when you're bummed," he finishes, and you’d protest if you hadn’t made it a habit to drown your sorrows in his milkshakes. They were just too good to resist. Not to mention Jimin is a great listener. Your girls, although you love them, aren't always the best. You'd catch the moment they crossed over from attentive to "Is she done yet?" but with Jimin, you've never had that issue. Turns out you have a different one.

"I hate how perceptive you are."

He laughs. "You're just predictable."

"You know what? You can take back your milkshake and go back to work," you say in a fit of grumpiness, pushing the glass back to him.

"Are you sure you want me to do that?"

You meet him eye to eye. After a minute—a long, impressive minute might you add—you take it back. "Fine. What do you want to hear?"

"Anything you want to tell me. And if it's something you can't share, please tell someone you can. It's not great to keep things bottled up, trust me."

You sigh.

"Here's the deal," you begin, feeling a little weird telling your old crush about your new one, but marching through nevertheless, "I met someone on...online. He's nice and funny and understands me even though he's different. I just click with him, and eventually, I want to tell him I like him. The thing is, I don't really know who he is. We've been chatting on Discord and his profile picture is Tuxedo Mask, but he can't be Tuxedo Mask. Or maybe he is, who knows?"

Jimin laughs. If only he knew.

"Anywho," you continue, "I meet him and find out he's someone I actually know...but he's a pest. He always gets on my nerves and it's like he's a completely different person! I don't even know how that's possible, but apparently it is and it's just so frustrating."

Jimin doesn't speak for a while, which is fine by you. You take the time to jam spoonfuls of chocolate and cream into your mouth.

"You know," he finally says, amused, "that sounds a little like the plot to You've Got Mail."

"That isn't funny.” You huff. “Joe Fox was a jerk and I don't know why they played him off as charming."

"Isn't that what you think of the guy?"

"I never said he was a jerk."

"But you said he was a pest."

"That isn't the s—" You pull at your hair. "Ugh. I don't know anymore."

"Did you talk to him?"

"And what? Spill my complicated feelings?"

"No, just talk to him. You don't have to confess right now. Just air out the laundry and see where you guys are at. Chances are, if you're confused, then he's confused, too, and there's no way either of you can get out of it without talking to each other."

"I can't talk to him, Jimin. I avoided him for three weeks! He's going to hate me."

"He isn't," Jimin says firmly, and you wish you could have the same conviction. "Sure, he'll be upset, but if he's really someone who cares, he'll listen. Look, during that time you avoided him, did he try to reach out?"

"Well, I told him I didn't want to talk and he stopped asking."

"So he'll listen. If it turns out he hates you, give him a piece of your mind and I'll give you triple chocolate milkshakes on the house."

When he puts it like that, talking to Seokjin doesn't seem as dreadful. "You're not just saying that?"

"Have I ever said something I didn't mean?"

You get your answer when someone comes trudging in, holding up a bag from your go-to fast food joint. "Jimin! You better be grateful I drove all the way downtown to get you these burgers. Since when did you like ______'s favorite, anyways?"

"Since now," your traitor of a friend says. You glare at him, which he conveniently ignores.

"You're the best," he tells a surprised Seokjin, leaving with a pat on his shoulder. "Enjoy your meal!"

>> NEXT

...

note:

*Venus to Selene, like "Earth to [insert name]?" but replace Earth with Venus and [name] with Selene, Greek goddess of the moon

[nerdypanda3126]

Playing with Fire – Ch. 2

I'm all caught up on posting now from the @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers exchange, I promise 😅 Anyone up for more Dragon Luka?

Read on Ao3 

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

She woke draped over his human form, in the middle of a fire that was on its way towards sputtering out. The pillows had been the kindling and she jolted awake as she realized that she was on fire in broad daylight. 

She shook his shoulder, panic making her flames sputter and spark erratically. He woke slowly, and seemed confused to see her until he looked down at himself and around where they’d been lying together. He sighed and laid his head back down. 

“Didn’t think of that,” he grumbled before he sat up, keeping a firm hold on her hand. She shook her free hand in his face frantically, unable to form words, and he blinked as he caught on to her panic. 

“It’s fine. You’re fine.” He held up their linked hands, as if that proved or explained something. He sighed again when she let out a strange little squeal and her flames burned hotter. 

“Meet me in the courtyard, okay?” he asked gently, then purposefully dropped her hand. Instantly her flames went out and he shuddered into his dragon form again. 

He jerked his head towards the open window before he shrugged his wings open and leapt off. She watched him glide gently to the ground and land, folding his wings—irritably, she would call it, although she had no clue what mannerisms to look for on a dragon. She raked her fingers through her hair hurriedly, wishing she’d thought to bring something to tie it up with, and scrambled down the stairs to meet him.

She started towards him on the grass, but he huffed out a small plume of smoke as soon as she tried to take a step off the path. She tried again with the same result and understood him that time. Stay where you are . She nodded and he loped over to her. His movement in this form was fascinating, like a cross between a prowl and a slither, smooth and powerful. He came right up to her and pressed his head into her hands. 

And she understood why he’d wanted her to stay on the path. As he shed his scales, she burst into flames. She blushed as she found that she was holding his face between her hands and her fingers were digging into his hair before she could stop them. He gave her that small, tentative smile of his as he laced his fingers through hers and pulled her down to sit across from him on the stone path. 

He put both of his palms against hers and caught her in those earnest blue eyes. 

Wordlessly, he pulled one palm away from hers, causing a bridge of fire to open up between them.

He pushed the flame back to her and pulled his other palm away, creating an easy rhythm. She followed his lead, marveling at how easily the fire was channeled between them. She'd never been able to control it like this before, to make it do what she wanted.

"Think of it like a current," he started. "The stronger the bond between us, the easier the current. Right now, our bond is brittle. Instead of a steady flow back and forth, it's almost like we cancel each other out. It makes us switch on and off. Does that make sense?” 

“Cancels out,” she repeated in a daze. “Got it.” 

"It'll take practice, and time, but eventually, if you choose to stay here, we might be able to share it without touching. To pass it between us—" he pushed his palms back to hers and closed the circuit "—without even thinking about it."

She pulled her palm away from his again, leaving only the tips of their fingers connected, and watched the sparks that built up into a ball between them. She could sense his eyes on her, although she steadfastly ignored falling into them again. 

“If you have questions,” he murmured after a moment. “I might have answers.” 

She lowered their hands. Her throat had gone entirely dry. There was one question above all others that burned to be asked. 

“Why?” 

He looked up at her briefly through his ragged hair before he dropped his eyes to the ground between them. She wasn't sure he'd understood her until—

“I didn’t know,” he whispered.

“You cursed me.” Her words came out as more of a sob and he winced. 

“I cursed myself, too, remember?” He pulled one hand away from her and leaned back on it, letting the sunlight hit his face. “I’m not supposed to be like this. Trapped, grounded, human ." 

She bristled at that. "Being human isn't a bad thing." 

He shot a sharp glance at her. "No fire. No claws. No wings. No fangs even. So fragile." He shook his head. "Humanity is a curse in itself." 

"I guess it makes sense, then, why there aren't more cases like ours," she said, allowing her anger to seep into her tone, "since humans are so far beneath you mighty dragons."

“I’m sure it was more common, at one time." He half-shrugged and turned to smirk at her, either unaware of her discomfort or choosing to ignore it. "Why do you think there are all those stories of young maidens and strapping knights being sacrificed to placate the evil and terrible dragon?” 

He imitated fangs with his fingers and snarled at her, which made her laugh despite herself. His smirk warmed to a smile before he looked away again. 

“It was supposed to be a mutual decision. I know that now. A… pact, or a promise. I've heard humans have something similar, sealed with a sharing of breath." 

She paused to think. Sharing of breath. Other than breathing for someone to save their life, the other cause for 'sharing breath' was—

"You mean like a…  kiss?"

"I think so." 

"A promise sealed with a kiss… You're talking about a wedding. You're saying that—" she swallowed against what was now an uncomfortable feeling of cotton stuck to the roof of her mouth.

He waited while she started and stopped several times before she finally found her voice.

"You mean to say… in dragon terms, we're married? And have been since I was… since you were…" She gestured with her hand low to the ground, her words failing her again. 

He hesitated, his brow furrowing at her panicked tone. "I take it that's a bad thing?" 

Her fire started sparking and sputtering and he seemed at a loss for how to comfort her. Finally, he opted for looking away from her and squeezing her hand. 

"I don't know if it's the same, but what we have, it's a way for a dragon and a human to share a life together if they wanted to. The human is protected, kept safe—” he winced at that “—or at least what a dragon would consider safe. Fireproof, kept close, given a defense. And the dragon is able to live a mortal life, age along with their intended, spare them the heartache of being alone for eternity. It’s… mutually beneficial.” His face pinched as if his words were bitter on his tongue. "And it's for life." 

The flames licking around her were turning white and threatening to overtake the stone path. Married. To a dragon. For life. Words that should have meaning, but strung together made no sense. He squeezed her hand again to try to comfort her and she barely felt it.  

There was a pause between them and he focused on placing the tips of his fingers against hers, pulling each finger away one by one and watching the spark dangle between them. 

“I thought I was saving you,” he finally said, answering her question at last. “I saw you fall into the water. I fished you out and you were so small. So helpless—" his eyes flicked up to hers beneath his hair. "So fragile. You were ice cold and you weren't breathing. So I breathed for you. I kept you warm. When the other humans came and found you, I thought that would be the end of it.” 

She waited, holding her breath, the fire crackling in her ears, for him to continue his story. 

“It wasn’t until I tried to fly away with my family that—” His voice broke and he cleared his throat, leaning back and away from her again. “I got stuck here. The end of the tether between us. When my mother realized what I’d done, what had happened…” He shook his head. “There was nothing she could do. Staying so near the village would’ve endangered her and my little sister.” 

“You have a sister?”

“I have a sister.” He smiled sadly. “Or at least I did. I don’t know where they are now, or if they’re okay. I haven’t been able to leave and they’ve never come back. One dragon draws enough attention near humans, if you haven't noticed, let alone an entire family.” 

“You’ve been alone? All this time?” 

“Not entirely. I’ve had a lot more visitors lately, of the knight in shining armor variety.” He grimaced. “I tried to drive them away, but they saw a huge, dumb, fire-breathing lizard and I had to—” He stopped himself and hid his eyes behind his hair. 

“Defend yourself,” she finished for him.

His lips pressed into that thin line again. It wasn’t a topic he liked, then. He took another deep breath before continuing. 

“I had to wait for you. I knew eventually you'd find your way here and I knew the choice should be yours. This was all my mistake. If there’s any way I can atone for it, it’s giving you back your life. Your freedom.” He laced his fingers through hers before he met her eyes evenly. "It's not much of a choice, I'll admit. But it is yours to make. The bond is for life, but that's easily remedied."  

Her breath hitched at his implication. "I can't—last night, you said—it's not—" 

He shushed her by placing a finger on her lips. "You don't have to decide now, or even soon." Those blue eyes, so soft, so sad, made her heart break for him. "Just think about it." 

With that he pulled away from her, breaking her grip on his hand gently, and the flames around her disappeared as he transformed again. He took off in a whoosh of wind that blew her hair back over her shoulders. She watched him glide in a slow, lazy loop around the top of the tower before perching there, his wings fluttering as he settled, his claws easily finding purchase on the thatched roof. 

She stood and shaded her eyes against the sun to look at him again. He laid his head down on his claws and closed his eyes, letting the sun spill over his rippling scales. The way his body draped across the roof reminded her of a black satin ribbon tossed casually across a bedpost. His tail was hanging over the edge of the roof, and the blue tuft at the end flicked occasionally. 

Admiring him like this, she understood now why he'd said humanity was a curse to him. She imagined it must feel cramped and uncomfortable to be forced to wear a different, smaller, weaker form night after night. Like trying to sleep in a dress that was five sizes too small. No wonder he looked so tired. She wrapped her arms around herself just thinking about it. 

All this time she'd thought she was truly cursed. But she'd had her family to help her, the people of her village that—while they might not have always understood—were always there for her. And most days she'd lived normally; she'd even forgotten about it entirely on occasion. 

He'd unknowingly pledged his life to her. A mistake he'd paid for by sacrificing his family, his freedom. And he was willing to sacrifice still more.

It wasn't right. He shouldn't have to pay for saving her life. He shouldn't have to sacrifice anything else for her.

She lowered her eyes, blinking against the spots in her vision left from the sun, and headed back inside to leave him to his quiet contemplation. 

When she reached his room again, she let her eyes slip over the dented and burned pieces of armor he’d collected and instead moved to his stack of books, running her fingers lightly over the spines as she read the titles. She recognized a few of these, too. Carefully, she pulled one out of the stack and flipped through the pages absent-mindedly until she came across the illustration she remembered. 

One of the sorcerers that had come through was showing her this page. He'd shown everyone in town this page. He’d proclaimed to anyone who would listen that this, this was what would take down that monster. 

She chuckled quietly as she thought about it now. Monster, prince, shapeshifter, thing, sorcerer, dragon. He had so many names to the townspeople, yet no one had ever used his actual name. Luka. It suited him. 

She sat down to read by the open window, only vaguely registering the height before she dangled one leg off the edge, bracing her back against the solid stone wall. 

What she wouldn’t give for a pillow. 

Her eyes slid over to the corner. There was another silhouette left in the ashes of the pillows, this time a doubled figure: hers on top of Luka’s. 

A flush of heat crept up her cheeks. He’d been human this morning. She’d been curled up against him and he’d been human and that was somehow weirder than being curled up against a dragon like she had been last night. 

She forced her eyes back to the page as her blush deepened. She was too distracted to absorb any of the words, so she laid that one aside and went back to searching the stack of titles. There was a wide range, although most of it seemed to be about dragon lore. No wonder he was so knowledgeable now. But there were other things, too. Books about spells, music, fairy tales, poetry. A couple here and there about foraging and cooking. She wondered how he’d gotten them all. 

There was one small leather bound book with no title. When she pulled that one out, the edges of the pages were singed, and looked as if they had been leafed through often. She let the pages fall open in her hands and found scrawling handwriting, along with what looked like dates at the top. Or at least, as she flipped through, the pages were numbered somehow. 

A journal. His journal? 

She snapped it shut and set it back on the stack. He hadn’t said she couldn’t look at his things, but she also hadn’t asked. Her curiosity was burning in her chest, but instead of giving into it, she listened to her grumbling stomach and made her way back down the stairs. 

His eyes were closed, but his attention was on her as she poked around the edges of their clearing. She didn’t know how, but she just felt it. She knew he was watching as she found a small thicket of blackberry bushes and pricked her fingers on thorns trying to get to the luscious prize, as she fumbled her way through making a small trap for any nearby rabbits, and as she decided to start testing the limits of their tether. 

That last one, he might not have known about, but she was, in the back of her mind, wondering how far she could go before that barrier—that blinding pain—started ripping them apart.

She could feel it, here and there, tugging at her. Once he let out a quiet grumble, but when she turned to look at him, he hadn’t moved. He hadn’t turned to look at her, and he hadn’t made any kind of motion to stop her. 

When she felt the tug again—she’d found a honeybee hive, and she was trying to figure out if it’d be worth harvesting later—she glanced back at him before she took a step forward. 

She could say she was trying to reach for it, if he asked. 

One more step forward, and a zing shot straight through her. 

From behind her, she heard what was now the telltale whoosh of his landing, and she felt the thud of his claws as he hit the ground near the tower. He growled, low and anxious, in the back of his throat. 

She turned to face him, and smiled to let him know she was okay, then locked eyes with him as she took another step backwards. 

His claw raised as if to take a step with her, but he resolutely set it back down and huffed out a plume of smoke at her. As she took another step back, he started pacing, that low growl rumbling through him, his scales ruffling in irritation. With another step back, she felt what was now a familiar tug. She took note of the distance between them before she stepped back one more time. 

She winced as that zing came back, and he let out a whine at the same time. Eyeing the distance between them, she was a good ten meters away from him. About two full body lengths for him, or just barely past the edge of the clearing if he stood in the middle. She glanced back at him and his glowing blue eyes were entirely focused on her, but he seemed to understand what she was doing. Or at least she hoped he understood. 

One more step backwards made that zing turn into a bolt that thrummed in time to her heartbeat, and she looked down to find that her fingers were sparking with white fire. 

She gasped and fell forwards, back into the safety of the clearing, and he was there to catch her. As she leaned onto his scales they melted away, and then he was holding her up with his arm slipped under hers. Before her flames flared to life around her, he swept her feet up to carry her back to the stone path and set her down safely, although he kept his arm around her shoulders. 

“Trying to run away again?” he asked, his voice low and breathy from the effort. 

She straightened herself up and leaned her head back against him. “As far and as fast as I can,” she muttered, although she managed to smile to let him know she was being flippant. 

His lips pressed into that thin line again and she backtracked shyly. “I just wanted to know the limit.” 

“Well, now you know. What good does that do?” 

She looked over at him, at the harsh edges of his face under the ragged lines of dark hair that flopped unevenly over his ears. Those dark circles under his eyes, made more obvious because he was white with… pain? Fear, maybe? The way he was still gripping her shoulder tightly made her think it was maybe the latter. She blushed as she pushed that thought away and dared to answer him.

“You said we could leave, if we were together.” 

He stiffened against her. “I did.” 

“And I thought…” She bit her lip as she hesitated. She didn’t know him well enough to know how he’d react if she told him the real reason. That she thought he might want to see his family again, if they were still out there. That she was willing to help him look for them. 

“I thought that maybe… eventually… we could go back to my village?” She finally decided to say. “For supplies, and... ” She fidgeted, twisting her hands together. “And maybe to see my family.” 

He flinched at the word, then took a deep breath, in through his nose and out through his mouth before he turned to look at her. “It’s a bad idea,” he said softly. 

“You only think that because—” 

“Because your village is the one sending people to kill me,” he finished irritably. 

“But they wouldn’t know it’s you! You look human at night and… and they wouldn’t know…” 

“You really want to lie to your family like that?” 

She couldn’t think of a response, so she closed her mouth and looked down at her feet, abashed. 

“As much as I might appear human,” he continued after a tense pause, “I’m not. And we can’t pretend I am. I understand wanting to see your family. Trust me, I do.” He squeezed her shoulders to him almost involuntarily, but she didn’t know if he was comforting her or himself. 

“But if they knew what I was they’d most likely kill me on sight and you and I both know that.” 

There was another pause between them and he took another deep breath. She could almost picture him letting out a plume of smoke as he exhaled.  

“Don’t…” He tipped her chin up to look in her eyes, and his thumb stroked along her jaw softly. “Don’t scare me like that again.” 

She nodded as if in a daze, stunned by the sincerity in his voice. He released her from that intense gaze and turned his face to check the fading light before he pulled away from her, although he let his fingers slip past hers slowly, and his transformation took over in slow motion. He took off and went back to his perch, changing his position on the roof to stay in the light that was starting to fill their clearing with a golden-orange glow. 

[steve0discusses]

S5 Ep5: Female Friends

So I was up hella late because of Daylight Savings screwing my sleep schedule, and I was on Twitch and one of the people I follow was speedrunning a Yugioh game (I think it was called Forbidden Memories like it was some Romance YA novel) and I was like “that’s a thing?” And I watched about 15 minutes of just complete nonsense. Like this game makes no sense when your scrubbing through 30 minutes of gameplay, but when a whole game takes 45 seconds and they have mechanics using like planets and astrology symbols? What?

What?

Y’all, I’m a little concerned your card game ain’t real. Like this is some ploy by knowing adults and this is some sort of Santa Claus situation where everyone else knows that this game ain’t real, but I’m the last person alive who’s like... “it is real though, right?” Hoping that I haven’t been played all of these years, despite having literally no empirical evidence that it is.

Just saying, I’m on to you, Yugioh.

Thanks dub.

I am pretty convinced (could be wrong) but pretty convinced that Grandpa was probably just normal horny in this scene. Like it just kinda matches what I know about horny grandpa tropes (that and Vivian is really talked up to be this hot stuff although she’s just youknow...some girl who exists.)

He immediately falls over. Like immediately, and I don’t know what’s up with Grandpa’s weird slipped disc, but luckily this is the one thing that Mokuba is prepared to deal with as a park manager.

Or what was his job again, Master of Ceremonies? That was the name of Mokuba’s actual chosen job that a 12-13 yo would choose?

Only Mokuba would have the choice to choose “a literal astronaut” and not choose an astronaut. This kid probably hates space though, with his family’s countless war machines now currently flying through the void.

The amount of times that the Kaibas have had to call a doctor for these guys.

(read more under the cut)

Bro was like “So Hawkins paid Grandpa to pretend to fall down so they could ditch Rebecca’s duel, right?” and youknow...probably. It was a pretty boring duel. They got off scott free.

Rex and Weevil do cartoon antics that actually feel like cartoon antics--which feels so weird for this show. Of course, it also has this Vivian plotline that is a little sus for a children’s show?

OK, show. You keep throwing women at Yugi Muto, and I get it’s a joke because he’s the world’s most undateable boy but there is a line of plausibility that even for a kid’s cartoon show it’s like “eh, probably not.”

Anyway, Vivian has Cho Chang energy of “I’m here for a problematic romantic conflict that never needed to happen and hamfisted diversity and uhhhhhh that’s it! I won’t exist after book 5!”

What a step down from dueling on top of the train, right? Like this whole time you could have just dueled next to it? What? In this show?

The rest of the party show up to the train station, where there’s really no other audience watching. Like where are Rebecca’s adoring fans who were asking for her autograph like 3 episodes back?

Card culture is brutal, y’all.

Vivian is not drawn like a 16 yo, being real. I was pretty surprised that she was under 25 according to a cursory Google search. Course, Joey Wheeler is drawn like a built adult, too, so I think the only convincing teenage child on this show is Pharaoh because at least he’s short. Just ignore how sometimes he’s got muscles on his arms that have no right to be there at the age of 16. (17?)

Then we had like a little Season Zero vibes where everyone just picks on Yugi for a hot minute.

And so Tea’s character development comes full circle as she realizes that this whole time, the Female Friend she needed was already here in the form of that small child who has a crush on her kinda boyfriend.

This was such an episode written by a bunch of dudes.

But at least Rebecca and Tea found something in common, although I really wish it wasn’t Yugi, considering how little on screen development he has with either of them. Where’s the reward for me as the viewer? If I cared about either of this love pentagon at all (well, hexagon...Bakura’s still in there.) there will never be a payout. You very well may be waiting forever for a relationship the writers clearly had never any intention to ever write except to act as a foil for our protagonists instead of like...a relationship.

And the show seems a little inconsistent with the relationship between Rebecca and Tea, too. They hang out a lot as the girls on the sideline, and appear to get along a lot of the time--but then they hate eachother a lot of the time as well because of jealousy? It’s just so weird.

I feel like TV shows in general have a really hard time approaching girl friendships, and speaking as a girl, I wish TV and books recognized more that our female friendships don’t have to be so freakin serious. We just act friendly and that’s freakin it.

That and these girls are going to go right back to hating eachother half the time after this is over because the main problem--Yugi not piping up and telling one of them to back the hell off--has never been addressed and never will be because Yugi is a broken, broken wet blanket.

Back at the base, Seto is also making up his own problems to be upset about in the absence of any apocalypses happening on screen.

Unless that hacker is Noah Kaiba, you’re probably fine. I really haven’t had too much of a reason to feel any fear over Zigfried von Schroeder. And maybe it’s because his character design was pretty complicated so no one wanted to draw it.

This was a ‘who’s on first’ joke but still.

...why do cards have to be like this?

Also, I didn’t see anything about this nonsense in the speedrun I watched the other night so, guys, this game ain’t real.

Anyway, Rebecca won.

We find out a little more of what happens to other duelists. Our Cowboy lost to a Sherlock Holmes boy, and I was very happy that I don’t have to come up with jokes about country music because I have none other than like...Taylor Swift jokes? Does she still count as country? I have no idea what’s going on in the country music scene.

On other side of the park, Yugioh decide to pay another tribute to the creative crotch shot with one of these:

Rex and Weevil are off to fight the big bad, and when you think “OK, we’re gonna get a wacky duel battle with these two balancing on top of eachother,” they kinda whiffed it before they made it to the stage.

And then I kind of whiffed it when I realized that Mokuba and Weevil have never spoken in the same place before and they have the same exact font color so fml.

The fact that Mokuba didn’t realize anything was wrong until they fell and revealed they were two small adults in a trench coat says a lot about most of the competitors in this duel.

It is incredible how both the Battle City Tournament and the Kaiba Corp Tourney (s that it’s name?) are both poorly managed, but in a different way. The Battle City Tourney unfortunately had a bunch of murderers in it. This tournament, no one is killing eachother, but they are still kind of sneaking in through the back door and being chronically late to everything.

(and I just want to point out that after the last match Mokuba oversaw that had Joey nearly miss the appointment, Mokuba decided to set this one in front of a Giant Clock just to get his point across)

So Zigfried has some sort of flying horse card that wiped them out right away, which makes you wonder........

.............why use any other cards?

Kaiba makes these cards, right????

Like he should be the last person who’s surprised????

Anyway, Zigfried top-decked a horse, and the guy who spends about 15 minutes getting ready his big ol blue eyes dragons every match he’s ever played was like “Yo I have GOT to get into speedrunning!”

And yes, the speedrun I was watching did not use Blue Eyes White Dragons. They were using a bunch of other stuff that I tried to look up just now and the art is completely different from what I recall so...unfortunately that means that your game is fake. Pretty sure it’s fake and you have no way to prove to me this is real.

Anyway, that’s it for now, not much to say since we’re still at the beginning of the arc. Next week I guess we’ll find out if Seto ever removes his ass from this chair.

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

[yellowmagicalgirl]

memories for when morning comes

An average afternoon and morning for Claire after ae stopped the Eternal Night.

This fic was, for the most part, written to spite an asshole on FFN who was complaining about how I use ae/aer pronouns for when I decide to specify that Claire is nonbinary in a fic, as opposed to they/them or she/her pronouns. Guess what? Ae/aer pronouns were first used in 1920, and even if they weren’t that old then one should still respect pronouns (especially for real people, though if this person is complaining about my pronoun choice for a fictional wizard I worry about how they’d treat real people who use neopronouns). (The other reasons I had for writing this were my own personal gender frustrations as well as just how it’s been a while since I wrote Claire.)

Title comes from “Welcome to Wonderland” by Anson Seabra, aka a song I found on a nonbinary pride playlist ;)

This fic isn’t Wizards compliant

Content/Spoiler Warning: Isolation, hopelessness, implied/referenced self harm, and introspection on misgendering and death

AO3

FFN

Claire wrapped aer arms around aerself and winced as even through the fabric ae could feel just how frozen aer hands were. That was the problem with having small, thin fingers. Aer circulation was pretty bad in aer hands. Sometimes, when aer nail polish was chipped, Claire’s could see how the natural color of aer nails changed to a pastel blue-violet tone, as opposed to the healthy pink that aer nails were supposed to be.

Speaking of supposed to be, where was Jim? He was supposed to be here ten minutes ago. Claire fought the urge to check aer phone again. He would be here any minute now, and if he had gotten caught up in some sort of trollhunting business, he wouldn’t be able to tell aer at the time. But, ae was tempted to go find a bench and pull out aer homework. That way, ae could at least do something useful instead of just waste aer energy shivering and feeling anxious.

Ae shouldn’t be so anxious. They had saved the world years ago, and aside from the occasional goblin nest or gnome uprising there hadn’t been any problems. Jim had retrieved the stone that allowed him to walk in the daylight, and had found out that he didn’t have to actually change as much about his diet as he had planned. It was small things, like coating his salad in dressing and eating his steak rare. The supernatural world was at peace. Morgana was dead and would never be able to hurt anyone ever again. But, sadly, Claire had been diagnosed with anxiety long before ae had learned the truth about the creatures that lurked in the shadows. Ae sighed before walking over to the nearest bench. It was warm underneath the late January sunbeam. Ae pulled out aer phone, but ae didn’t check the time. Ae placed an earbud in each of aer ears, reaching up at the same time to run one of aer hands through the fade of aer hair before reaching the curly faux hawk at the top and curling aer fingers into it. Perhaps it couldn’t be considered a proper fade, not anymore, not when Claire had decided to let it grow out for the winter months so the chill wouldn’t permeate so directly into aer skull.

Claire let aerself become pulled into the loud rock music blasting from their earbuds as ae pulled out a textbook from aer backpack and began to read. Ae didn’t notice anyone approach aer until a blue, four-fingered hand stopped aer from turning the page.

“Oh,” Claire said, pulling out aer earbuds. Aer boyfriend stood in front of aer, one hand behind his back. “There you are.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Jim said. “Mom was trying to cook and, well, it was going well until the kitchen towel started catching fire. But, I have something to make up for it!” He thrust his arm out from behind his back, revealing the bouquet of violets.

“Jim, I, thank you,” Claire said, tracing the softness of the flowers.

He smiled down at aer. “Of course, anything for my handsome Juliet.”

“You wouldn’t happen to have a vase or anything, would you?”

Jim scratched the base of his horns sheepishly and opened his mouth, probably to say that no, he hadn’t planned that far ahead for their date.

And ae woke up.

All of Claire’s dreams were bad dreams. Some of them were memories, and they happened more often if Claire fell asleep in front of the haunted TV that showed all of the times that ae had been scared. Some of them were an amalgamation of horrible things that ae had heard about and things that Morgana had done or intended to do to her victims.

The worst type of dream, though, was neither of those two. No, the worst type of dream wasn’t bad when it was happening. It was a wonderful, beautiful, pleasant escape from the horrible reality that Claire had doomed aerself to. Ae would wake up in the Shadow Realm and know that Jim was dead and everyone assumed that Claire was dead as well. That their beloved friend had died to save the world. Or worse, their beloved daughter or sister.

Claire had died before ae had come out to anyone except for Enrique. It was after Jim had rescued aer brother from the Darklands, but before Morgana had taken a hold on Claire’s body and mind. Well, a stronger hold than Claire merely just using the Shadow Staff.

Ae had been alone, and ae had started talking to him. Practicing how ae’d come out to aer friends and family and boyfriend, even though ae hadn’t been ready. Enrique was the only one who knew who Claire really was, and he was a baby. He wouldn’t understand, and he wouldn’t remember Claire talking to him, and he would grow up hearing about the sister he once had who never actually existed in the way everyone thought Claire had.

(There was a possibility that there was one other person who knew the truth about Claire, but ae didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to think about how the woman who called Claire Child instead of Daughter might be doing so as a sign of some horrible mimicry of respect. Really, Claire would have rather have had aer bodily and spiritual autonomy respected and be misgendered than for Morgana to respect that Claire wasn’t a girl but then turn around and treat aer like ae wasn’t a person, just a weapon.)

Enrique wouldn’t remember his older sibling’s monologues about aer gender frustration. Perhaps it was for the best. Claire hadn’t been meaning to actually tell aer brother, or else ae would have gone to NotEnrique instead, because out of the two brothers ae had the changeling was the one who actually knew more than ten words. It was just easier to talk to a listening ear than aer stuffed animals or a mirror (and that was before mirrors were a reminder of aer trauma). It had been practice for something terrifying that Claire would never have to do. Never get to do. Hadn’t been ready to do. Ae had never gotten around to deciding upon a more specific label than nonbinary. Between the dread that came with the possibility of someone finding aer trying to do research, and all of aer responsibilities, ae had never really had the time. And of course, ae knew that their were plenty of people who didn’t want a more specific label, but ae wanted one. Ae wanted a more specific label, if only so ae could list out all the reasons and point to something that explained that Claire wasn’t the only one. And instead, ae had waited too long and no one would know.

The trolls would have probably reacted well, since trollish gender was rather different than human gender. Jim and Toby probably would have been okay with aer as well, since they had reacted well to aer being bi and they were respectively bi and pan themselves.

Mary and Darci? Back in middle school, Darci had followed Claire to a few GSA meetings but as far as Claire knew she was there as an ally. And while Claire had seen the way that Mary sometimes looked at Shannon, Mary had never done anything else to indicate that she was anything other than straight and cis.

Aer parents? Claire knew that they loved aer. Besides, they wouldn’t have thrown aer out, if only because Ophelia was a politician on the left end of the political spectrum. But, aer family was Catholic, and ae wasn’t even out to them as bisexual, and that was at least something they might believe aer on. Aer dad might even be more relaxed if Claire had a (cis) girlfriend than with any boy ae could date, trollhunter or otherwise. And if aer dad was on aer side, then maybe he could convince aer mom to accept that their child was bisexual. Maybe, considering just how many arguments Claire had had with aer mom about how Claire couldn’t be her perfect daughter. How could Claire possibly convince aer parents that ae wasn’t their daughter at all? Granted, there was the possibility that they’d be to ecstatic to care about the gender binary when Claire escaped -

No. Ae was never going to escape the Shadow Realm.

Ae slipped out of bed, undoing one of aer long white braids. It had always had the tendency to get horrifically tangled, and that was before aer magic made it so aer hair moved in an otherwise imaginary hurricane. It would tangle enough to make aer cry. Braids were easier. Braids, or short enough hair that Claire wouldn’t have to worry about it tangling, but ae didn’t trust aerself with blades so close to aer own skin.

Ae had mastered walking around aer house as silently as possible. Perhaps ae had become a shadow of aerself here. Silent, and trying not to cause a stir, not to draw attention to aerself.

Claire gazed out aer window to the dark landscape of the Shadow Realm. Morgana was out there.

Or, maybe, ae had become more of aerself here. The shadows obeyed aer will, after all. So had the Shadow Staff. Aer will, and not Morgana’s. It had been so surprisingly easy to steal away the scepter of the Eldritch Queen. Perhaps it had been seeking a monarch as shadowy as itself.

Ae hadn’t had the time for researching and trying to find the perfect label to describe their gender. Now, ae had nothing but time to think and solitude to not worry about someone walking in on aer research. Now, ae had no access to anything that could give aer answers. Ae had tried, but there wasn’t a WiFi connection in the Shadow Realm. Ae couldn’t look anything up online, and it wasn’t like there were any books in the Nuñez household to help aer find the perfect word to describe aer gender.

And yet, Claire felt that ae could call their gender a shadowy void and ae would be incredibly accurate.

A/N: Is Jim actually dead in this? Probably not; Claire is probably just making an assumption because the last time ae saw aer boyfriend he had just jumped in the way of a magical blast that had been meant to take out Claire and aer friends.

[bytheangell]

I Just Want to Feel Something Today

(A s02e11 inspired fic) (Read on AO3)

“Emotions serve a purpose. You don’t go through what you just went through, witnessing all that death and not feel something, Jace! It’s not good for you! Just feel something. Whether you think it clouds your judgment or not.”

Clary’s words catch Jace by surprise. He expects anger, denial, frustration… and he supposes, in a way, that’s exactly what he gets. Except instead of being aimed at him, those emotions come from Clary on behalf of himself. She’s upset, but she’s upset because he keeps pushing away anything that would make him actually stop and deal with everything that’s happening. She’s not mad at him, but at the way he is thanks to years of careful conditioning to push his emotions aside and lock them away so they aren’t a distraction.

And she’s right. It isn’t that he hasn’t felt anything, it’s that he’s buried every feeling he gets the moment it starts to form. He’s ignored every negative emotion because he hasn’t had time to deal with any of them, and he’s pushed away any remotely positive emotion he’s felt because he doesn’t deserve to feel anything good, not now, not after everything he’s done.

How long has it been since he let himself actually feel something, good or bad, all the way through? He certainly has plenty of emotions to choose from. Plenty of moments and events to focus on.

Not here, though. Not now. There’s still work to be done and plans to be made. He’s done enough damage already that a few more hours of keeping everything neatly tucked away won’t hurt. So he waits until he’s certain Clary is long gone and calls the elevator to face the rest of his day.

---

It isn’t long before Jace finds himself on the rooftop of the Institute, thankful for the solitude it provides him. He hadn’t realized how stifling the walls of the Institute felt until he’s outside of them, breathing in the fresh air, letting the slight breeze run through his hair the closer he walks to the edge of the roof overlooking the city.

It’s easier here, he thinks, to try and let go. This isn’t the first time he’s escaped to the roof to be alone and process things, and he’s sure it won’t be the last. It’s been so long that he wonders if he remembers how to let it all go… no, not go. How to let it all in.

“You’re hurting,” Alec had said as they sparred earlier. And Jace was - he still is. The hurt never stops, not now, not when there’s evidence of the pain he’s caused at every turn. It’s in the stress lines on Alec’s face, in the way the other Shadowhunters won’t meet his gaze, and the way the Downworlders would meet his gaze - but with nothing but hatred in their eyes. The pain is the easiest thing to let himself feel because it’s what he thinks he deserves the most - the disappointment, the anger, the despair.

He feels his chest tighten with emotion, too many to pick apart and name, and does his best to fight the urge to swallow it all back down and walk away, back inside where he can justify putting back on the mask of Being Okay.

Instead, Jace allows his mind to move on to something else he’s been effectively ignoring. Because after the Soul Sword his next biggest problem is Simon and the fact that he’s a Daylighter now, with all signs pointing to Jace’s blood being the catalyst.

Jace feels nothing but dread at the idea of this being true. There was so much going on at the time that he hadn’t considered the possibility that his blood is the reason Simon can walk in the daylight now. If that’s true it doesn’t just put him at risk, it puts Clary at risk, too. And not just from the other vampires but from the Clave. The Clave would hate this revelation. Worse, the clave would fear it, fear the possibility that Nephilim blood could be used to rid the vampires of their biggest weakness. There’s no telling what they’d do to him and Clary if they found out, and that’s a thought that genuinely worries him in a way that not much else does.

“No matter what, your secret’s safe with me. (...) You have nothing to worry about, I got your back.”

Loath as Jace is to admit it, even just to himself, he does trust Simon and believes when Simon swears that he isn’t going to say anything. If it were anyone else Jace would be worried they’d use the knowledge for blackmail later, to hold it over his head as leverage, but it isn’t anyone else. It’s Simon. And yeah, Jace trusts him, for whatever that’s worth.

Somewhere between the jealousy and the nearly dying to save Simon’s life, there’s witty banter and mutual appreciation. Simon has nothing to lose and everything to gain from sharing their secret with the other vampires, but he won’t. Jace thinks of Simon’s attempts to hug him, of casually affectionate touches and warm smiles and the fact that he’s… hell, they’re friends, aren’t they?

Clary stood by him out of perceived sibling loyalty. Izzy and Alec would always do the same. But Simon? Jace has so few people on his side that Simon’s loyalty isn’t something he takes lightly. Surprisingly, the idea of having Simon so resolutely in his corner is such an overwhelming realization that the relief of it brings the first tears to Jace’s eyes. Once they start they don’t stop, especially not as his thoughts turn to Clary.

“What else are you hiding from me?” Jace wishes he could blame Valentine for his fallout with Clary, but he knows that wouldn’t be true. It’s Jace’s fault he didn’t tell Clary sooner - he had plenty of opportunities, plenty of time, but more than that: she deserved to know. He’d just been too scared, too selfish to do it. He said he didn’t want to ruin things with her and Simon but that was just another lie. He wasn’t afraid she’d leave Simon for him once she knew, he was afraid that she wouldn’t. That he could have her now, and she could have him, but she wouldn’t want him the way he still wants her.

Because deep down he’s still just a scared, insecure boy, using that carefully crafted bravado to cover up the truth of what he’s actually afraid of: not being good enough. He knew it couldn’t last forever, but as long as Clary didn’t know she had a choice he could avoid the reality of her not choosing him.

Except now he may have lost her for good, and not just to Simon.

Of course, she doesn’t trust him now. She may never trust him again, and he wouldn’t blame her. He let her down, not for the first time, but arguably the worst time since they met… and that’s saying something, considering everything they’ve been through.

Jace remembers how hurt she looked at the realization that he kept something so important from her, and the tears fall steadily now. He lets that pain in, he lets it mean something. She practically begged him to feel something so it seems only fitting that he feels this the most. Jace closes his eyes against the tears, only to see the image of Clary walking away from him in his mind’s eye. The ache of it knots his stomach, the fear that she may not come back to him, not as a lover or as a friend, is paralyzing.

He lets it in. He feels it, all of it.

The tears continue to fall and Jace continues to feel everything from the past few hours, the past day, the past week. Everything he pushed away. Everything he buried, finally allowed to break through the surface.

Regret. Anger. Relief. Sorrow. Loss. Hope. Fear. Sadness. Love. Pain. Loss.

He feels all of it.

There’s a sound behind him and Jace knows it’s Alec behind him on the rooftop before he ever hears his parabatai speak. He reckons he could take a minute to collect himself and brush this off without Alec pushing it - he already silenced the sobs that shook his entire body only moments before. Another thirty seconds and he could give some bullshit excuse about being upset over Clary and move on to whatever Alec came looking for him to talk about. Alec knows when Jace wants to talk and when he doesn’t, knows when he can push and get something out of Jace and when it was a lost cause. It’s why Alec asked him about the Downworlders and about Clary while they sparred earlier, knowing that Jace needs a side of distraction with his honest conversation. It’s easier to talk between punches, to discuss emotions while simultaneously having a physical release for them.

This? Crying, with no singular reason or cause, just because... just because he tried to face his emotions and became immediately overwhelmed by the weight of it all? He doesn’t do this. They don’t do this. They do eye-rolls and thinly veiled admissions of not being fine - but also not wanting to talk about it - in between hits with a staff. They do brief moments of serious conversation while literally pinned to the ground and unable to escape.

They don’t do falling into each other’s arms in tears... and yet that’s exactly what Jace wants to do right now.

“Jace, you okay?”

No. He isn’t okay, and no amount of sparring is going to fix it this time around. There aren’t enough distractions in the world, which is unfortunate, because they’re about to summon a Greater Demon to the Institute and Jace can’t get his fucking shit together. At least, not on his own. It took Clary’s influence to get him to this point, and he knows what he needs to move further. Maybe not to closure, but to something close.

So he turns around, eyes bloodshot and face streaked with tears, and gives Alec what is probably the most lost, helpless look he’s ever willingly allowed anyone to witness.

Alec doesn’t say he’s sorry, or ask what’s wrong - he simply moves to close the space between them and wraps his arms around Jace, pulling him close. Jace allows himself to be pulled, to be tucked into the firm but gentle embrace of his parabatai.

After a moment Jace tries to pull away, to shrug off Alec’s comfort as the guilt of not deserving it settles again, but Alec holds firm. Jace came up here to be alone, but maybe being alone isn’t what he needs just then. Just like keeping everything bottled up wasn’t what he needed, either. It took Clary to realize that, and it takes Alec’s insistent presence for him to realize that he needs these moments of comfort from his brother that he’d never allow himself otherwise.

They stay this way, silent except for the slowly quieting sobs from Jace until the tears stop completely. Only then does Alec finally loosen his grip around him enough for Jace to pull back.

“Feeling things is overrated,” Jace manages, and the words startle a laugh out of Alec despite the situation.

“Clary?” Alec hazards a guess, not that it’s a difficult conclusion to reach.

“Clary,” Jace confirms. “Among other things.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Alec offers, sounding as uncertain in asking as Jace is in his answer.

“No,” Jace admits. Except he’s starting to realize what he wants isn’t always what he needs.

Jace sighs.

“But maybe I should.”

[official-wayward-keener]

No Air

Tony Stark and Peter Parker have an argument. Afterwards Tony's plane gets hijacked and only one person it able to save the day.

Remix of Thin Air by FerretShark for the @irondadremix

Ao3 Link here

Tony watched as the kid turned around. He was angry at Tony, but Tony knew his kid was safe and that was all that mattered.

His eyes of his suit narrowed as the venom dripped from his kid’s voice. “You had him killed.”

“You’re right, I did.” He had FRIDAY lift up the faceplate so Peter could see his face. He was sad that the kid was okay with risking his life. He didn’t want to end someone’s life but Peter had been dangered and he had to protect his kid.

“Gargan was my problem! I was going to handle it.” Peter was pacing as he said that. Tony knew he was agitated. Tony had taken his problem and handed it off. “You handed him over to the Punisher!”

“I’m sorry Pete, but he’d made it clear that he was coming after you. He was out for revenge. Trust me, there’s no reasoning with someone like that. I’m sorry, kid. When it comes down to a choice between you and him, I’ll choose you. Every time.” Tony wasn’t lying about this. He was worried about his kid more than some scorpion freak who was out to kill his kid. He rather knows Peter was safe than find him dead.

Tony could hear the frustration before Peter spoke again. “You can’t just order hits like some kind of mafia don. It’s murder!”

“I was trying!” Tony finally explodes and then gains control of himself again, finishing his words in a much more controlled tone. He couldn’t be frustrated with his kid. It would only push him away, Peter just was pushing his buttons too much today. He was pushing him to the brink of a fight that was just going to end with someone hurt knowing the avengers’ luck. “I was trying to keep you SAFE! I know you probably think you’ve outgrown all that but...”

Peter slams down his foot, the concrete under his heel cracking in a web-like pattern. Tony seemed surprised as he watched the kid so frustrated at him. “Stop! Just stop trying to justify it. It’s easy to kill people, but it’s harder to do the right thing, the difficult thing.”

“Ok look! “ Tony had to stop him. He knew Peter had a moral code but this was not about that code. Peter could have died and he would rather die than let someone else. Well, Tony wasn’t having that. He wasn’t going to lose his kid because he couldn’t use his brain and was more focused on his stupid moral code. “I know you may not want to hear this but the world is not all black and white. And one day, when you get off your morally superior high horse, you’re going to find it’s actually just made up of shades of gray. That’s just the way it is!” They regard each other in the dying daylight. Tony holds out his armored hand, hoping that his kid would take it from him and that they could talk about this back at the compound or the tower. Somewhere where it wouldn’t make the news. ”Come on, Pete.”

Peter backs away though, “No, you’re right. I don’t want to hear it.” He spins, throws a web, and disappears into the night, leaving Tony behind. Tony watched, figuring he could talk to his kid the next week.

The issue was Peter let one week turn into two and three. Rhodey knew something was upsetting Tony. Pepper had noticed something was bugging him. Tony had wanted to talk to Peter but Peter was nowhere. He hadn’t tried to call the kid figuring Peter would come to him when he was ready to talk. Pepper asked about Peter when he stopped answering her emails. Tony just told her that the kid was going through a lot at school. Happy was concerned as well. The kid seemed to be ignoring his text. Tony just gave the same excuse. After the first week though, Tony had called May asking about Peter. May was probably the only one he knew about the fallout between the mentor and mentee.

“Just give him time,” She had told Tony. “He was really upset about that and it takes him time to get over something like that. Tony knew she was right but he still missed having his kid around. He had Pepper invite Peter to the conference that they were having but Peter never responded as Tony thought about what he was going to do now. His kid and he were not on talking terms and he was about to be on the west coast. What if Peter needs something? What if a new villain came out of the woodwork? Or someone wanted revenge for Marc Gargan and went after his kid? Rhodey had to convince him none of that was going to happen, but Tony was still concerned about Peter. Maybe being away would give Peter time to get off his high horse and see that Tony was right or to just consider talking to Tony.

~

Tony knew something was wrong. Rhodey did too as they realized there was a slow decompression. They had to get down and fix it before they all died. Rhodey and Tony got some panels open and started working on rewiring the ship before something bad happen when he felt like he was getting dizzy. He knew he didn’t have much time but Tony couldn’t die like this. Someone had sabotaged his flight and was planning for him to die. He had to try and save his friends. He had to get back to New York. He couldn’t die without Peter knowing Peter was going to think he didn’t care about what the kid thought. Before he knew it everything was dark. He was passed out on the floor of the cabin without a chance to say what he wanted.

~

The tap on his face followed by the words, “Hey. Mr. Stark?” made him think he was dreaming before his eyes shot opened and there was the kid. As if he was there the whole time.

“You,” Tony said as he breathed out, he grabbed onto Peter’s shoulder and squeezed as a way to test that he was actually there and not his imagination. “You’re here.”

“Yeah. How are you-”

Tony tried to get out, to get to Pepper remembering she was just over there. Not far from him. He forgot he was strapped into the seat though.

“Pep,” he gasped, as he went to unbuckle his seatbelt.

“She’s fine, Mr. Stark.” Peter let him know before he helped Tony stand. As soon as he is standing up, he moves over to Happy and Pepper to make sure they are alright and to get the oxygen. He contemplated as he knew they had to keep a steady airflow until they were safe on the ground again. He adjusted the airflow not knowing how soon they could get the plane down. He knew they needed a plan as he turned to the kid who had joined the crew.

Tony did the math to figure out how long they had until they wouldn’t have any oxygen with five of them now on the plane. “There’s not enough,” he mutters to himself, before looking up at Peter. “There’s not enough time. Do we have a plan here, kid?” His focus became on Pepper’s airflow as if to distract himself from the possibility that this could be the most he could do for her currently.

“SHIELD has a Quinjet on the way. I’m not sure when they- there’s no...” Peter tells him turning as if there was something he was supposed to do but he seemed to forget. Tony was wondering if the kid was starting to feel the effects of lack of oxygen.

Tony’s frantic movements start to slow as he knows they will be okay before he realizes someone is missing, “Where’s Rhodey?”

Peter tried to tell him but the kid made no sense which worried Tony. Tony swore as he rounded on Peter. He had to get the kid oxygen. He took off his own oxygen mask so Peter would be able to breathe.

“Mask up,” Tony tells the kid but his kid seems to not process what he says so he pulls the mask up himself he puts the mask over his kid’s mouth and tells him to breathe. Peter looked like a realization came over him after the air started coming to his brain.

“I’m ok, I’m ok,” Peter gasped, obviously not okay. “You need.” He tried to say. Tony figured out what was going on. Peter’s body was fighting his morals. He wanted to give the canister to Tony when he needed it.

“Just, breathe, Buddy.”

“Ok, yeah. I’m ok. Thanks.” Peter pushes the mask off and towards Tony who takes it when he is sure the kid won’t take it back and breathes in.

“Seriously though, you good? And none of that self-sacrificing bullshit.” Tony knew Peter well. The kid would lie if it would mean anyone else would be safe even if he desperately needed something.

He caught a smile on Peter’s face before the spider-man mask went back down. “Yeah, I’m good. Sorry.”

Tony’s thoughts went back to his missing best friend. “Is Rho-”

With no warning, the plane pitched forward, nose down. Tony was tossed forward off his feet. Before he knew it Peter caught his arm. Tony made a grunt as he hit and bounced off the seat row beside him before catching himself. They ended up making their way to the cockpit to find out what was going on.

“Oh, there you are.” Rhodey commented to Tony, “Have a nice nap?”

“I was fine until you tried to break my neck back there.” Tony snarks back like when they were in MIT as teenagers. He tosses himself in the co-pilot seat and straps in.

“You got any idea what happen?” Rhodey wanted to know. Tony could figure it out. Someone had hacked his tech. He told Rhodey as much.

“Yeah.” Rhodey grunts and pushes against the throttle. “This bird really doesn’t want to cooperate. The controls are, damn.” They start to roll but Rhodey forces the plane back to level flight. “I’m getting us down where we can breathe, but it’s a fight.”

Tony starts looking into what is going on, as he tries to figure out a way to give control back to Rhodey. He needs to make sure his friends make it back on the ground safe. Make sure his kid who shouldn’t be here was back on the ground safe.

“If you can get me radio control that would be great. We’re falling through the sky without clearance, hoping we don’t hit something.” Rhodey requested. Tony is too focused to respond to him, but he knows he will try. The wires he is messing with cause a spark as the whole cockpit becomes dark. He can hear the concern from Peter as their descent becomes faster.

The engines roar to life after a while and the change in flight is exactly what Tony expected as Rhodey looks a bit relieved to have some controls as he contacts air traffic control.

“Twelve hundred feet. That’s it, Tony” Rhodey says suddenly, and Tony yanks off the mask and takes a deep breath without it for the first time in a while.

Tony sees the quinjet before the kid does. SHIELD had come through and sent a quinjet after all, “There’s your Quinjet, Kid.” He lets Peter know.

They end up forming a plan as the quinjet gets right behind them. Peter can swing the other two over. So that they were safe. Happy is luckily asleep as Peter swings over and away. As he is gone, Pepper wakes up confused, Tony gives her a brief explanation of what happened and what they were going to do. He knows he trusts Peter with her. Peter wouldn’t let anything happen to her. Peter comes back and Pepper and Peter talk for a bit before they get ready. He knows he trusts the kid but he is worried about Pepper.

“She’s going to be ok, sir.” Peter was so sure as he said that.

Tony couldn’t help the smile knowing Peter wouldn’t let anything happen to Pepper. “I know. I trust you.”

Tony watched them leave before he told Rhodey to stay there and that Peter would bring his suit as he went to erase the data on the plane. No one was getting away with hacking one of his planes.

“So um Mr. Stark? I just need to know. How much do you like this plane?” Peter ended up asking him.

“It’s scrap, Kid, I’m putting her down in the Pacific. Nobody gets to play with my toys without permission.”

“Well, Colonel Rhodes and I are going to go back here and wreck stuff. I just thought you should know.”

Tony’s response is a wry laugh. “Go ahead, go nuts.” Peter seems to run off as Tony continues working on erasing the data so nothing is left. He gets a message when he is almost done from Rhodey telling him he has five minutes to go.

Tony leaves the cockpit once the data from the plane is erased and sees Peter grabbing his mask. “Ready to go? This baby’s about to get up close and personal with Newton’s law of gravitation and it would be better if we were somewhere - anywhere else really, when it happens.”

“Yeah.” Peter agrees. “We got the suit. Colonel Rhodes says you have five minutes - that was probably about five minutes ago.”

Tony holds up his smartwatch, “He texted.”

There is a concussive blast that stops their conversation as the War Machine suit punctures the outer hull. The plane shakes violently before right itself. Peter is hanging on to Tony’s arm, holding him upright.

“Ok, let’s go.”

“Do we need the parachute?” Peter asks.

“Nah, Friday’s got my suit ready for me. Mind getting the door?” Tony motions to it with a tilt of his head. He sees Peter getting what he is saying as he kicks the door for Tony. Peter ends up coming back to Tony and helping him to the open doorway. Tony gives one last look at the cockpit before he jumps out ahead of Peter. He feels the suit entrap him and protect him from the fall as he slows his fall before seeing Peter. He makes sure he is right below Peter as Peter sees him and latches on to him using his powers to keep hold of the suit. Rhodey and Tony focus on flying to Los Angelos Airport as Tony seems to relax knowing everyone is safe now.

Before he completely lands the kid flips off his back and onto the ground. Tony lands close to Rhodey not far from them. The press is already there as they take pictures from far off. The flashy of their lights the only telltale sign that they are there. Tony sends Rhodey and the kid in as he takes care of the press. Figuring the kid had enough for today after everything that happened with the plane. The press asks him questions on and on before he finally can escape and find the kid who looks about ready to climb the wall when Tony shows up.

There is a heavy silence now that they are back on the ground and safe. The fight from a few weeks ago is still unresolved between them as they both stand there.

Tony stares at him with multiple things to say but not knowing how to say them, Peter of course has a rambling habit especially in situations like this so before Tony can talk Peter does. “Tony I’m so sorry. I mean if anyone knows how fast things can happen it should be me. I shouldn't have said what -”

“Wai-” Tony tried to stop him but the kid continued and moved closer to him.

“This morning they all kept talking like you were dead like you were already gone and I realized that I didn’t want what I said to be the last thing I- I just- I’m sorry, Tony.” Tony wanted to find whoever was behind his kid having to hear that he was dead. Peter had no right to be told that.

“Pete. Stop apologizing.” Tony stepped into his space, grabbed the kid’s head between his forehead before giving him a kiss on his forehead. Something Jarvis and Ana did to him when he was little and wouldn’t stop rambling.

“You saved my life kid, again.” Tony’s voice wavers, he can tell it as his hands drop to the kid’s shoulders. “and Pep’s and Rhodey’s and Happy’s and goddamn everybody.”

“I was just...” the kid tried to interrupt but Tony wasn’t having it.

“And if anyone should be apologizing, it’s me. I know Gargan was your territory and you had a way you wanted him handled. I should have respected that. I just didn’t want to see you get hurt. I can’t-” Tony was at a loss on what else to tell the kid. The kid was territorial with his villains and Tony should have remembered that.

Peter grabs him and gives him a squeeze which gets Tony back to reality. Peter lets go when he hears Tony make a noise before stepping back as the two stares at each other having a conversation between each other apologizing and deciding that this would be the last time they fight like this. They continue to stare at each other until Peter clears his throat and brings them back from the moment to the present.

“So do you know who messed with the plane?” Peter had changed the topic. The moment was over and now they were back to the real reason they were both in the same room after their argument.

“Not yet, but I have a few ideas. So it might be a working weekend, but do you want to stay here in California?” Peter would be a great help Tony realized if he could stay.

Peter sighed and mumbled a response, “I still have to write my paper.” A memory from the time Tony took Peter to Germany popped into his mind before something he remembered May saying came to mind.

“The paper you were supposed to turn in last week?” Tony smirked at the kid. Peter though was surprised that Tony knew about that.

“You knew about that-?”

“Heard it through the grapevine.” Tony’s smile is wry. “At least May and I are still on speaking terms.” Well on talking terms in the sense she kept hounding him to just talk with her nephew about the fight for the past two weeks. Peter gave a heartwarming smile when he heard that.

“I-” Peter went to say before pausing and taking a deep breath. “You-”

Tony saved him from whatever he was going to try to say, “I know, Pete. It’s ok.”

The hug that Tony gets is a nice relief as he tried to hold back tears. When Peter steps back, he doesn’t say anything as he sees Peter has misty eyes as well.

Tony clasped his shoulder as he figured that he would get Peter a first-class ticket back home, “Let’s grab lunch and figure out a way to get you home.”

“Can’t I just borrow your suit again?” Peter seemed very hopeful and it sort of hurt Tony to tell him, no, but he rather Peter stayed out of the suits unless it was an emergency.

“Sorry, that was a one-time thing.” Tony holds up his hands. “If you want to fly, it’s going to be commercial.” With the best pilots that Tony knows and in 1st class cause Tony rather Peter has the best than anything else.

“Oh come on!” Peter whined. Tony just smiled at the kid. Maybe he would let the kid use the suit one day when he was older but for now he rather the kid was on the ground instead of in the air.

[kitkatopinions]

You know what always bugged me about Jaune attacking Oscar (aside from the obvious)? It felt like he took advantage of the fact that Oscar was a defenseless child. I doubt he'd have the gall to attack Ozpin in his previous body. Now with Qrow on the other hand, I'm not too sure. One of his more consistent traits is picking fights when he shouldn't.

I don’t know, Jaune didn’t have any trouble charging at Cinder, or lashing out at Qrow around the campfire (though he didn’t attack him physically.) It seems like Jaune was willing to lash out at anyone who might have possibly sort of contributed to Pyrrha’s choice and he seemed more controlled by his grief more than logic or power complex. Idk, thinking he’d be just as physical with adult Professor Ozpin doesn’t seem too far off base. He was pretty illogical. Like, not trying to throw shade. And he did get it right to blame Cinder, obviously, although I feel like Jaune of all people charging at Cinder should’ve resulted in more injury to him than it did.  His actions were frustrating, but were at least understandable for someone (especially a teenager) dealing with grief. But Oscar deserved a sincere apology from him and I’m so glad we started moving on from that.

...If Penny’s death triggers an ‘aggressive Jaune trying to find someone to blame and lashing out at everyone 2.0′ I’ll be very annoyed.

As for Qrow, I didn’t think he’d punch Oz at all before it happened and it confused the living daylights out of me. His fight with Winter was when he was seemingly in a pretty good mood and it seemed like a mutual grudge match he was more or less enjoying. And even though Winter seemed to take it much more seriously, there were moments where she was acting like it wasn’t all that serious too.

Qrow Vs Winter really read like an anime fight where you knew the stakes were low and they weren’t really out to hurt each other - and the person that actually got the closest to breaking that feeling was Winter. Qrow’s other conflicts like his spat with James and his arguing with Raven, those were all verbal fights. Qrow and Winter was (if I recall correctly) the only time we saw him actively get physical with an ally or even a former ally who hadn’t revealed themselves to be working with Salem yet, and again, Winter was the one who first started trying to deal blows and she’s the one who seemed more violent.

I mean, this is Qrow with Raven pre-her working with Salem.

And this is Qrow when she showed up at Haven with Cinder to help her steal the Relic.

So the understanding I at least was working with was that Qrow - while prone to arguments and being rude and disrespectful - wasn’t just a violent person. He fought with Winter because they had some messed up understanding linked to their school-rival-like relationship, and she was the exception, rather than the rule. Outside of her, he only seemed to get physical when the situation demanded a fight.

So Qrow just punching an ally - and longtime friend - because it’d been revealed that he’d lied to Qrow - albeit, about an important detail - seemed really out of left field for me considering the prior established thresh-hold of who he’s willing to attack. Qrow didn’t even reach for a weapon with Raven in the bar while she was getting in the way of Oz’s life saving plans out of selfishness and cowardice and being dismissive of Yang’s pain to his face plus acting kind of aggressively herself. But he was ready to shoot her the minute he thought she had gone to Salem. But Oz wasn’t revealed as having done some horrible, evil, non-understandable thing. He was revealed to have lied out of desperation about something admittedly important in his effort to do what he could to save people. Although I  would’ve liked Qrow to take his side from the beginning, it makes sense for his character to have been mad, upset, and to have lashed out. Like I said before, what Qrow is known to get into is serious verbal fights. But punching Oz? When Oz clearly wouldn’t defend himself? When he’s in a body of a child? When his abuse at the hands of Salem was just revealed? That so didn’t even feel like Qrow!

In my opinion, the punch wasn’t a trackable, Qrow-like reaction that made sense. The punch was what started the whole ‘Qrow is violent’ spiral. It was so out there that I had tried to come up with an explanation (like 'maybe there was an Apathy near by they just didn't know about?') And then I started trying to reason that Qrow seeming to slide into deeper depression and drinking heavier was because he felt super bad about it and he was going to give a big heartfelt apology in Volume 7 when Oz came back, which obviously didn't happen. And then the writers randomly had Qrow fight Clover with Tyrian and decide James was at fault for it and get determined to kill him for most of a season without even having gotten the whole story, plus picking fights with Harriet, only to try and talk her down in the next scene he's in?

Qrow punching Oscar felt like an isolated incident that I was willing to consider a really weird and bad mistake on the part of the creators without throwing out the character, but then in seasons seven and eight, he got more violent and less loveable. But confusingly, sometimes Qrow acts like he used to. He waffles between Good Qrow and Bad Qrow sometimes, and sometimes on a scene by scene basis. Good Qrow would totally try and talk Harriet down, whereas Bad Qrow would totally knock her to the ground and taunt her about getting that fight she wanted. It's so weird to see such disjointed writing that makes characters feel so back and forth. It’s not just Qrow, the CRWBY writers have a tendency to just write whatever they think feels valid in the moment without considering the larger character journeys, I think. And once they start hearing complaints, sometimes they double down, but sometimes they start trying to write their characters to act differently without addressing the flaw itself. Like having Yang act like Summer is her mom again, or having Blake suddenly acting like she's really close friends with Ruby, or having Winter suddenly act like she was against the things she’d been totally fine with last season. So there's every chance they're just gonna pretend Qrow never did the violent things he did, and never address the punch or how he helped fight Clover or how he wanted to kill Ironwood. It's possible season nine or ten will feature Qrow acting like his Volume 3 - 5 self again and the writers just expecting everyone to roll with it.

... I spent way too long talking about Qrow. XD Oh well.

[kpop-fanatic-lover16]

Storms – Kim Hongjoong

Pairing: Hongjoong x reader

Genre: mafia

Word count: 4k+

Warnings: angst, a ton of it, and thunderstorms? Is that considered a warning? Also blood

   A soft clinking rang in your ears as the ice in your tea moved to melt slowly. Without drawing too much attention to yourself, you glanced around the room, taking in your surroundings and observing people from afar. Carefully, you placed your elbow on the table at your booth and lazily stirred the ice in your cup with your straw. With a glance outside the window, your eyes saw what looked like storm clouds rolling in from the North. North storms were always the most dangerous when it came to thunder and lightning. 

   Suddenly, someone slid into the seat opposite you. You already knew who it was. His black hair framed his temples and fell into his eyes; the dyed piece of teal on the left side of his face just above his eye blended perfectly with his slanted almond-shaped eyes, sharp jawline, and high cheekbones. A mix of grey and brown was smudged around his eyes to make them more mysterious and enticing. When he turned his head, his single dangling earring swung back and forth gently. He placed his folded hand in front of him and waited for you to look at him.

   When you didn't look at him for over a minute, he spoke instead, "You do know what you're getting yourself into, right?"

   "He's not here, so it shouldn't be a problem," you replied, looking back out of the window. "Besides, he never leaves base. He always sends one of you." 

   "Try again." a new voice filled your ears.

   This time you looked to your left and the person you were specifically trying to avoid was sitting right next to you. You looked across the table to see San giving you a sympathetic soft gaze, knowing your decision to disappear from the base was a reckless choice. He didn't want you to feel like you couldn't go anywhere or be by yourself, but he also didn't want you to rebel just because you were impatient. San was the first person you grew attached to and allowed close access to your personal space. He would always be grateful, but right now you were distancing yourself. Just like you had done when you first arrived.

   When you first arrived, San had been practicing combat with his partner in crime, Wooyoung, down in the concrete training area. Wooyoung had thrown a few punches to the sides of San's head which called for a block. His forearms were raised to his face and with a little bit of ducking and backstepping, San avoided the punches. But because of the technique, he hadn't seen you being dragged into the area by some men trained under San and Wooyoung. The two boys halted in their practice to question the sudden intrusion. 

    San locked his eyes on you the second he noticed you trapped between the two men. Wooyoung straightened up and panted continuously from the energy he had been using a few seconds ago. Wooyoung gazed at you for a second and then spoke up, "State your business."

    With a thorough observation, San knew you a bit more. The way your posture sat limp told him that you had been discovered sometime this morning or late yesterday night due to the lack of strength. A faint red tint starting from your left ear to the corner of your mouth was noticeably from a slap to your cheek, subconsciously making San's eyes narrow in anger. Next was your appearance which was a clothing choice of dark ripped skinny jeans, a sparkling sequin shirt, a long black lace Kernaghan, and four-inch black wedges. A specific rope pattern was indented in circles around your ankles and wrists, which indicated you had been tied for a while. Your hair was tangled and you looked super pale, but the biggest thing San noticed was the patch on your abdomen where the sequins lost their sparkle. 

   Blood. San thought to himself.

   "She–" the man on the right began to explain the situation to Wooyoung, but San cut him off, not wanting to know how you'd gotten to your current state, but rather why you were bleeding and dressed in a party outfit.

   "Why is she bleeding?" San mumbled, shifting his gaze from you to the men. Both of them halted in their words, a little perplexed at the question. They exchanged glances before the one on the left stuttered out an answer.

   "She was found like this."

   San huffed in disbelief and began pulling the velcro apart on the end of his wraps. Wooyoung glanced at his partner in the corner of his eye, confused at the huff and question. San began unbinding his hands as he continued, "I don't think anyone would just attack her, especially in such a specific spot." 

   "What are you doing?" Wooyoung hushed out, moving toward San and turning away from the trio staring at him and his Hyung. "She's just a girl."

   "Think," San urged, eyeing the two men before leaning closer to Wooyoung's ear. Subconsciously, Wooyoung leaned closer to get what San was going on about. "Hongjoong specifically told everyone to leave females alone and if they were injured to leave them where they were and call someone else to help." 

   Wooyoung realized in seconds. San gave him a pointed look and silently agreed with the younger boy. "She's supposed to be taken straight to Hongjoong if she's found digging around."

   "There is rope indents on her wrists and ankles as well, but not just any rope, it's the polypropylene braid rope we use in training sessions," San added on, knowing that the rope was off-limits and only found in the network. "Plus, the obvious place to be bleeding is the head, not the abdomen."

   "Why is she bleeding?" Wooyoung repeated San's question from earlier, knowing that these men most likely caused you pain. 

   "She was found like this." They repeated.

   "That's funny," Wooyoung replied, hopping off the elevated floor and coming level with the trio. "Because if I can remember correctly, Boss said to leave those who have nothing to do with us to someone else for help."

   "Judging by your silent expressions and the drying blood at the ends of your sleeves you've done injustice on this girl and attempted to have us kill her for you in hopes of getting revenge on whatever annoyance she's caused you." San hops off the platform as well and wraps his hand around the gun in its holster under his waistband. "What an unfortunate mistake."

   Even though you were so incredibly weak, your scream echoed through the concreted space when two shots were fired and your holders both dropped dead. Both boys had their guns drawn when you peeked through your fingers. Almost immediately, they put their weapons away and their demeanors changed. The one with black hair instantly dropped to his knees when your legs gave out due to your captors failed grip on you. Pain erupted in your stomach at your heavy fall. 

   A hand touched your arm, scaring you away. These boys just shot human beings, what makes you in any less danger? When he continuously tried to grab your arm, you yelled out and started to get aggressive with him to try and getaway. Suddenly, as if his hands were steel, he grabbed your wrists and held you still. 

   "Stop fighting me!" he demanded. "You're stabbed and I have to check how bad your wound is!"

   When you continued to struggle, fear still pulsing through your veins, San gave up and told Wooyoung to check it while he took care of calming you down. Women were something else when it came to serious situations. 

   "Hey," San lowered his voice and gently placed his hands on your shoulder. The gaze in his eyes was strong and mesmerizingly calm right before he calmly checked the temperature of your skin with his hand. "We're not your enemy. I want your wound to heal, but I can't help you if you're fighting me. Trust me."

   The offering was tempting but only because the pain was excruciating. Cautiously, you went limp and let these two boys check and make modifications to your injuries. Even though they had just shot the men who caused all of your pain and ultimately saved you, you distanced yourself from their curious eyes and efforts to make small talk. 

   Now, nearly two years later, San was trusted. But something was seriously wrong with you because you wouldn't normally just leave base without telling anyone. Were you trying to get someone's attention or scare the daylights out of your friends? There wasn't anything San could pinpoint which is why he was so confused. 

   "It's about to rain," you heard your fiancé mumble, leaning closer to your ear. "Will, you just come home so we can talk this over?" 

   A hand grabbed your chin and you were forced to look at his face. His tone was soft, but his eyes and sneer said he was irked at your bratty attitude. With a bit of a tug, you pulled your chin from his hand, glaring at him. Next, he grabbed both of your wrists in his hands and yanked you so close to him that your noses bumped. He leaned up to your ear and whispered, "Were you always like 'this' or did you have to work at it?" 

   "Hongjoong, you're gonna make a scene." San urged, watching a few glances in the direction of your table. 

   "I'm getting up first and then both of you are going to meet me in the car," Hongjoong growled through his teeth, completely changing his demeanor. If you said you were calm, you'd be lying. Your heart was beating fast and sweat was building up in your palms. "If you have to drag her then do it. Those are your orders."

   Both of you watched Hongjoong leave the booth and exit out of the restaurant. A crack of thunder rumbled in the sky, matching Hongjoong's temper. San got up first and pulled his wallet from his back pocket where he took a ten-dollar bill from one of the folds and placed it on the table under your drink. The wallet went back into it's respectable place and then he held out his hand for you to take. If it had been Hongjoong's hand you would have rejected it, but you didn't want San to get in trouble so you took his hand without hesitation. San placed a hand on your waist and walked behind you to the exit. 

   "The car is just down the street." San murmured, pushing the door open for you and lacing his hand with yours. It was now pouring buckets outside which meant you had to run. Thankfully, you could keep up with San so it wasn't much of a big deal. 

   "One, two," you counted carefully, preparing yourself for an unwanted shower. "Three!"

   When you reached the car door, San opened it for you and then ran around to get into the passenger side. Inside the backseat, Hongjoong sat next to the other door while looking over some papers belonging to a file which laid on his thighs. The driver's part of the car was cut off by a wall giving the backseat privacy. As soon as you were in, you closed the door and the car began moving. It was dead silence between the both of you on the way back home.

   The real reason you had decided to leave was because Hongjoong kept disregarding what was important to you. Any values or morals that you wanted to withhold in your relationship with him wasn't valid in his never-be-humble opinion. Hongjoong was taking advantage of your peacekeeping personality and lack of confidence to stand up for what you believed in. This morning, you had heard him talking to his second in command, Seonghwa, about how important it was to him that he knew where everyone was and that they told him upfront. After he gave you a slow peck on your lips in a little goodbye before heading to work, you dressed yourself and left the base without telling anyone where you were just to tick him off more. If that was so important to him, you weren't going to respect it. Karma bites.

   Hongjoong finished with whatever he was looking at and put the folder on his right side to rest untouched. Boldly, he looked over at your wet form and watched you dry your hair with a towel he had provided before leaving to find you. He knew you could see him looking at you, but you refused to say anything. Hongjoong released a frustrated sigh and looked out the window to regain his composure. 

   You had scared him when he came back up to the penthouse. He had plans to take you to lunch, but when you weren't in the room, he was surprised. Initially he assumed you were wherever San was since you two were the closest. But when San said he hadn't seen you all day Hongjoong realized that you weren't going to be found anywhere in his building and you had done that on purpose. He had Yeosang check every camera in the city to try and find you before anything got to you before Hongjoong could. It was almost dinner time by the time Yeosang had found you, casually sitting in a restaurant on the other side of town. 

   "Why did you leave this morning without telling anyone?" Hongjoong asked, looking back at you after a minute or two of silence. Without a care in the world, you ignored him and continued to squeeze water out of your hair. He was going to explode at you if he didn't wait until you got home, so he clenched his teeth together and remained silent for the rest of the ride. 

   Unfortunately for you, the ride home went by faster than you had thought it was going to take. The car pulled into the six-car garage and went completely quiet. Not wanting to sit in your fiance's presence, you got out of the car immediately and shut the door closed. Yunho, Hongjoong's network coordinator, got out of the driver's side and closed his door as well. He pulled you into his chest in a hug and planted a kiss at your hairline.

   "Next time," he began. "At least tell one of us so we know you're safe."

   "There won't be a next time," Hongjoong answered for you, coming up behind you and waiting for Yunho to release you. There was no jealousy when it came to you and the rest of his boys. All the hugs and brotherly kisses were just a sign that they accepted you into their group.

   "We'll see you in the morning," San said, hugging you good night and nodding at Hongjoong. The two of them left through the door leading to the training buildings while you and Hongjoong went to the elevators in another room. You were about to take the stairs instead so it would take longer to see him again, but Hongjoong had a different idea. His hand grabbed your elbow and grounded you right next to him right before the elevator doors opened. Against your will, he pulled both of you inside and closed the doors.

   "Penthouse," he spoke loudly to the smart elevator. The grip he had on your elbow tightened when you tried to pull away. 

   "Voice authorization." the electronic voice requested automatically.

   "Kim Hongjoong."

   "Access granted." 

   The elevator began moving right as another crack of thunder rumbled and the lights flickered slightly. Slight panic-filled your heart at the light flickering and subconsciously you relaxed into Hongjoong's grip rather than staying stiff. The elevator made it up to the penthouse, and the doors opened into the entrance hall. Hongjoong made a right in the hallways when you stepped off, dragging you to his room and roughly pushing you inside. Stumbling slightly, you stopped yourself with the help of the bed and turned around. 

   "I've had just about enough with you and your attitude!" Hongjoong sneered, flipping on the light and tossing his phone on his desk next to the door. "I took you in and said I would love you for who you are and this is how you repay me? How generous of you, Y/n."

   "It's always about you!" you cried out, throwing your hands up. "Nothing I do or care about is enough for you!"

   "Do you think scaring me by leaving and not telling anyone is caring?" Hongjoong shouted, using his hands to gesture out his emotions.  He watched you roll your eyes and pace in front of him with twisted expressions crossing your face. 

   "There was nothing scary about me leaving," you sighed, crossing your arms and stopping right in front of him. "It was only to tick you off."

   "Mission failed!"  Hongjoong sarcastically taunted, giving you no sense of satisfaction. "I should just hand you over to the enemy and say, 'here ya go' since that's practically what you did anyway."

   Your eyes widened at his statement. "I did no such thing!"

   "Really?" Hongjoong coldly laughed, leaving his room and down the hall to the living room where he stood in front of the floor to ceiling window. Lightning split across the sky casting blue and dark purple hues around the bolts. Hongjoong turned on a lamp to his right and stared at you. 

   "Did it even occur to you before you left base that you could be abducted and placed in the same situation you were in when you came to me?" Hongjoong paused, waiting for you to answer him. He already knew the answer because of your hesitation.

   "No, but–"

   "Exactly, no! Because you weren't thinking about the fact that you could be kidnapped and there was nothing I could've done." Hongjoong kept ranting so you had no chance to cut in. "You're not a mafia boss. You don't know what goes through my head or what could be dangerous and what isn't because you act on emotion. People in my network don't act on emotion because it's not reliable. Logic is something more trustworthy and you are dead in the head if you call, anything you have shown to me in the last twelve hours, caring." 

   "So what? Maybe I did act on emotion," you shouted, feeling your heartbreak at his words. Words that were criticizing who you were and how you dealt with things. Nobody asked you to be a part of this mafia. Quite frankly you didn't have a choice. San and Wooyoung made you join since you had seen too much. Only then did Hongjoong care. "But I have more emotion in a single tear than you will ever even wish to have!"

   Hongjoong was in front of you in seconds, watching the tears fall down your cheeks and touch the bottom of your jaw. His eyes were furious and his jaw was clenched tight, hands fisting open and then closed. Another huge crack of thunder boomed above your heads.

   "Then what were my kisses to you then?" Hongjoong mumbled out dangerously low. He was so close your noses were almost touching. "What did the countless nights when I held you close, mean to you? All the times I listened to you talk for hours on end? How about the first time I kissed you? Do you remember that, or was my fear of being so vulnerable to the girl I loved a game to you?"

   "It's still all about you," you whispered out. Hongjoong huffed out a laugh in disbelief.

   It had been a game. He thought.

   "You want to know why I left this morning?" you asked, watching him retreat from you and walk over to the window. 

   "Do tell, I'd love to know the sick little game you're playing!" Hongjoong's tone resembled dramatic sarcasm and annoyance at the question he had wanted the answer to since this argument started. 

   "You said it was important to you that you knew where everyone was and that they told you upfront. You've been disregarding anything that is important to me and that hurts Hongjoong!" tears were now streaming down your face while you screamed at your fiancé. "I wanted you to feel exactly how I was feeling!"

   "Well you know what?" Hongjoong boomed, scaring you into silence. Rain pummeled the roof and thunder shook the building again after a flash of lightning. "The pain is throat clenching, because you just tore my heart in half after erasing all the efforts I made to show that I love you."

   "That is not what I said!" you defended, completely confused as to what he was referring to? What? The examples he gave you? You never denied those! Everything he does means the world to you.

   "Y/n," Hongjoong snapped, silencing you for the rest of the fight. "Put yourself in my shoes! Everything you've wanted or cared about has to be done in a way that works with my network. I can't come home early to cuddle with you, we can't go on a vacation to Bora Bora, and I told you upfront to work with me. I asked for your patience when I proposed to you and you haven't retained any to keep this relationship steady!"

   It was quiet. The room sat still between the two of you. He had made his point. It was valid, but all you wanted was for him to care enough to tell you no in a loving way. Not in the tone he always used when he was tired. To not vote off what you loved straight away. But maybe to make up for what had to be worked around with something else. It made you feel like the bad guy.

   "I guess none of it matters anymore. If you can't handle the pressure of being by my side, then just give back the ring and quit pretending." Hongjoong whispered, walking around the couch and heading for the elevator. "Leave the ring on the kitchen counter."

   "Hongjoong–" you reached out for him to stop him, but he shook you off.

   "Don't touch me." 

   It had been two minutes after he had left. Suddenly, you hated the rain because it resembles your tears; you hated the lightning because it reminded you of the sharp fired filled gazes in his eyes; the thunder shook your fear into a crumbled building as it matched the volume and passion behind his shouts. Slowly, you sunk to the floor, letting yourself cry and soak into the heartbreak he had created, that he had chipped piece by piece for so long. 

   Sobs racked your body as the thunder became worse and you slowly started to spiral. You couldn't think, you couldn't feel anything but the pain. But alas, the warm feeling of hands gently being placed on your neck to lift your head. A saddened gaze met yours and a hushed pitiful sigh left his lips at the sight of you. With caring hands he pulled you in between his legs where he pressed the side of your head into his neck and wrapped his arms around your figure, letting you cry. 

   "Give him some time," San mumbled, pressing his lips to your forehead and squeezing you tightly. "And breathe for me."

  Women. They are so different when it comes to serious situations. San thought, thinking back to the first time he stopped you from crying. But their hearts are always in the right place. 

   The next morning, you woke up to see that Hongjoong hadn't come home last night. San had made sure you were okay, but he left when you fell asleep to try and find his boss. In the end, you realized how much the fight had meant to you. It hadn't meant a single thing. Not if it meant you would lose the man you loved beyond life. 

   You sat on one of the stools, drinking a cup of warm coffee and occasionally glancing down at the twenty-four carrot, diamond ring that glittered in the morning sunlight. It cast small rainbows on the granite countertops and white ceiling, entertaining you for a while. When the sound of the elevator doors opening caught your attention, you looked over in the direction of the entrance hall. 

   Hongjoong appeared, wearing the same thing he wore last night. Fortunately for you, there had been time to change because you were now wearing your short white nightgown with a fuzzy soft sweater housecoat. He paused when he saw you, falling back in his step and breaking eye contact with you.

   "Where's the ring?" was his first question as he glanced over at the kitchen where he told you to put it. The coffee cup passed to your right hand and you held up your left hand, showing the glittering diamond off. 

   "Right here, where it belongs." 

   "Your attempts to make me feel better aren't welcome." he blandly replied, walking over to the kitchen to grab a cup of much-needed coffee. He leaned up against the counter and sipped the coffee, eyeing the ring on your finger. 

   "Where did you go last night?" 

   "Seonghwa's house," he answered, staring at his cup and keeping his responses short. 

   "It was lonely here without you." you offered the soft push of an apology and attempted to set up a chance for you to settle your fight.

   "Should've asked for your ego to hold you, it was big enough." Hongjoong sneered under his breath and took another sip of his drink. That stung. 

   Without another word, you set your cup down and slid off the stool. You entered the kitchen area and went around the left side of the island where he was standing next to the coffee pot. His eyes watched your every move and when you stepped in front of him, he waited. Boldly, you took his cup from his hands and set it down in the counter right next to you and stepped in between his feet. With intent, you placed your hands under his ears. A kiss pressed to his lips, but he didn't respond. When you pulled back, he sniffed and looked anywhere but your face.

   "I'm sorry," you whispered. "I'm sorry for everything. I'm not going to explain myself because you already know that there is no excuse for my careless behavior." 

   He stayed quiet, but he heard your apology loud and clear. There was no way in his mind that you had come to a decision so quickly. His heart was still so broken. When he left last night he expected you to be gone when he returned. Now he didn't know what to do because here you were, a completely different person in your maturity, yet the same girl he had fallen in love with. The girl he still wanted to marry, the girl he didn't want to admit had him wrapped around her finger, and most importantly, the girl he wanted to forgive so badly that the pain was worse than what her words had created last night. Beyond suffocating. 

   "I'll just leave the ring on the island and get my stuff on the way out," you mumbled, giving up on trying to fix things.

   Slowly, you pulled back. Hongjoong's hands immediately slipped under your coat and secured themselves on your waist preventing you from moving. His lips came down and softly pressed a chaste kiss to yours. His embrace on you shrunk as he pulled you closer and tighter into him. Hongjoong so loved sick it made his stomach turn and squeeze. The kisses lasted until he couldn't breathe. When you pulled back, he was slightly shaking, moving his head back and forth.

   "Sweetheart," you gasped lightly, pulling him into you. "You're trembling."

   "My head told you to leave," he choked out, wrapping his arms around you and closing his eyes, dropping his head into your shoulder. 

   "What?" you asked, gently pulling him back up to look at you. His gaze looked up from where your feet were and into your eyes. His eyes were red and suddenly he felt so weak.

   "But my heart won't let you go."