#but it took me a few watches before I realised that it's never explicitly said the umbrella was Lin's

[enwie]

I was originally first introduced to the series through the takarazuka play, and there's an interesting small change it does with the ending that I like to think about.

At the end of season 1, Lin offers Shang the red umbrella, just like the one Shang took from the buddha statue in the beginning, which Lin used to emotionally wrangle him into the whole mess.

In the anime, Shang initially accepts the umbrella, but later discards it when it starts raining. As he throws it away, it lands on the buddha statue, shielding it from the rain. The story comes a full circle, Shang has paid back any and all debts he might've had. His conscience is free (of Lin's hypocritical judgment).

In the zuka version, Lin makes the same offer of gifting the umbrella, but Shang refuses it outright. He already got into so much trouble just from borrowing the umbrella from the statue in the beginning of the show, he doesn't want to risk whatever mess this one might get him into. If he's going to get wet in the rain because of it, so be it. He'll live.

What, then? The zuka version ends with Lin being the one that places the umbrella on the statue to protect it from the rain, and the story... comes a full circle?

The anime doesn't give a particular reason to believe this but thinking about it, Lin, in the beginning of the story, wasn't just waiting for some passing stooge to pick the umbrella up. He was the one who'd planted it there to begin with. After all, it's his trap and it's exactly something he would do.

The story comes a full circle.

[northsoulss]

i think i need someone older - elisa de almeida

(a/n: for @moonystoes & @oceangalore , both of you inspired me to write this smutty fic. (that one edit that you two went nuts over lmao.) hope you enjoy some spicy scenes!! <3 xoxo)

inspired by this ->

smut below the cut! minors interact with caution!

a few years ago, as you were sulking in paris having recently been dumped by your ex girlfriend of a few years, you were swiping on tinder when you came across elisa. you immediately intrigued by her the moment you saw her. she was around 6 years older than you, but you didn’t care. she looked gorgeous and had pretty eyes, and hopefully treated you better than your ex. that was all that mattered to you at the time.

when you eventually got to meeting her after a bit of back and forth of texting, you were instantly enamoured by her. after a few months, of casual dates, she finally popped the question and you two have been dating ever since. she treated you like a queen, and you loved everything about her. unlike normal couples, you two were both a bit secretive about your jobs, not fully disclosing the exact details. however, this backfired on you the day you had to head over and meet your new team.

you dated her for a few months, just as you left your previous team to join psg, you came to the awkward realisation in the morning of your first training when you saw her getting dressed as well. this was the result of you never asking her explicitly what she did for a living, and she didn’t ask you. the first training was extremely awkward — you remember fidgeting around, realising that elisa was your coach. you took in her authoritative tone of voice, one that you never heard from her. the elisa you knew was gentle, and goofy. yes, she was serious when she had to be, but never like this.

“hello girls, we have a new addition to our team who came from __. please welcome her with open arms!” you saw a few familiar faces, but that did not help overcome the shock that came with the realisation that elisa was coach.

when training ended, you made sure to leave the last, making sure no one saw you go home with elisa. “babe, you never told me you were a football coach. my football coach!” that was the first thing you said to her the moment you sat in her car, surprised she was so calm about this.

“you never told me you signed on for the team i’m coaching.” she adds, helping you wear you seatbelt. she pauses for a moment, her face inches away from yours, before teasing, “at least i get to see you work out everyday now.” she pecks your cheek and sits back, leaving you flustered.

despite coming with perks of seeing her at work everyday, there were many cons to her being your coach. for one, she has to make sure to not spend all her attention on you. you remember distinctively that she told you once on the way back home, “listen baby, you’re not my girlfriend on the pitch okay? you’re my star player, nothing else, no strings attached.” being the two mature women that you were, you agreed, respecting the player and coach dynamic on the pitch. it was difficult to not call her “babe”, or “amor”, but overtime, you got used to it, even calling her “coach” sometimes at home to mess with her.

today however, was the day where the lines between girlfriend and coach blurred, and you were willing to take a risk with her.

you needed her, so incredibly badly.

you weren’t exactly sure why you did, but you just wanted her to yourself. you had your eyes on her the entire training session, watching her every move, from her arms that flexed when carrying weights for a demo, to her lips, that moved fluidly whenever she spoke about corrections that your team had to make.

“alright, that’s it for today. remember what i told you about your footing!” with that, your team mates began to slowly flood out of the changing room. normally you would follow suit, but today, you lingered behind. you wanted to pounce onto her the moment you two were together, but you had a conscience. you weren’t going to just do it in where everyone could see. so, you decided to do the next best thing.

when you saw her alone in the training room, back facing you just after all your mates left, you walked over quickly to were she was scribbling down some notes for tomorrow’s training. you took a quick glance at her side profile — her brows furrowed with concentration, her tongue slightly poking out at the corner of her lips, eyes narrowed at the note pad. you brace yourself for what you were about to do, expelling a breath of air before performing your trick. walking past her, you drop your towel, walking backwards so that your ass was up against her pelvis.

“what are you-“ her sentence gets cut off when her breath hitches, feeling you against her. bending down, you made sure to linger in that pose for a while, purposefully leaning into her, dragging your body against hers. you felt her hands dig into your hip, a warning glare sent your way when you gave her an innocent shrug.

“what do you think you’re doing.” she asks, her tone anything but nice. the plan is in action.

“sorry coach, i just dropped my towel.” you say with a smirk. her mouth thins into a line, her expression warning.

“mmhm. just meet me in the car, __.” she says, sighing whilst leaving quickly. you were afraid you might have pushed it too far this time, but the excitement that was coursing through you clouded your judgment entirely.

the ride back home was silent, elisa had her eyes trained to the road, her hand practically on your core. the more you squirmed, the harder she pressed her fingers into you, your breathing becoming ragged. the only reason why you pulled that stunt of purposefully bending down in front of her was just so that she would pay attention to you. you knew it wasn’t fair to ask that of her, especially since she was the coach of your team. you just couldn’t help yourself, she was your girlfriend after all.

“what was that little trick you did today?” that was the first thing she said when you two walked through the door, you breath hitching at her authoritative tone. she looks at you, but you refused to meet eyes with her, knowing that if you do, you would fall to your knees, begging for her to fuck you.

“what trick?” you paid no attention to her — you where treading dangerous waters, but you didn’t care. you wanted her riled up. you wanted her to put you in your place.

“oh don’t play dumb. you didn’t think you would get away with it did you?” she inches closer, and you move away, putting away your things in the bedroom.

“oh, but i didn’t do anything wrong, coach elisa. all i did was pick something up.” you batt your eyes at her, looking up at her through your lashes.

“what if someone saw us? i could get fired from my job.” she counters, hand reaching up to grab your chin. you felt a wetness pool in your core; your plan was working.

“then we’ll just be careful. you know how to play it safe, don’t you, coach?”you knew she couldn’t resist any further, a frustrated sigh escaping her lips.

“you’re going to be the death of me.” she states exasperated, and yet she had a smile on her face.

“take your clothes off, now.” she demands, eyes a deeper shade of hazel, every move she made screamed that she was in control. you quickly stripped, leaving you naked, and she fully clothed. she moves closer, each step she took foward, you took one step back, until the back of your knees hit the bed. pushing you onto the mattress, she crawls over to you, taking your knee and pulling you under her. she sat right above your clit, every movement she made caused a groan to rise in your throat.

the eye contact was intense, her eyes the boring into yours, reading your every move, she knew your body better than anyone else, knowing that when your breath hitches or speeds up, she’s doing the right thing.

as her hands trial up your body, her fingers drawings soft lines on your inner thighs, drawing dangerously close to where you need her. she doesn’t give you what you want though, hands moving away from your lower body.

“eli, please.” you whine out, but a strangled noise escapes your lips when you feel her knee pressing against your core. as you try to move to create some friction, her other hand holds your hip down, a sly smile on her face. she

“oh, you’re not in control now.” she leans in, her lips ghosting yours. “i am, mon amor.” her other hand caressing your face, thumb dragging your bottom lip down, causing your mouth to go slack. she loved having you like this, below her and completely dazed, at her disposal.

she trials her fingers up your chest, hands pinching and massaging each breast, causing soft whines to escape your lips. elisa moves at a painfully slow pace, her lips now sucking your nipples, tongue wrapping around each nub, swirling and lapping at it; teeth grasping it lightly, and pulling away with a pop. she looked glorious, her lips were swollen and pink, with a light sheen of saliva on her chin. you pull her by the neck towards you, lips crashing in a way that made you wish you went against her wishes more often.

“i want you, to ride my abs.”she breathed out between sloppy kisses, yanking off her shirt, her upper body only covered in her shorts bra. flipping you two around, she made you sit on top of her abs, your bare body on display for her to see. her eyes grazed your body, stripping you for whatever dignity you had left. you gulped, no words coming out from your mouth at her sudden dominance.

“you’re okay with this?” she quietly asks, eyes softening for a second to scan for any signs of discomfort. you pecked her cheek and nodded, the sweet smile on her face soon replaced with a devilish grin. you began to rock back and forth, every inch of her skin providing delicious friction to your cunt. your moans echoed through the walls of your bedroom, her eyes watching you get off on her. be it from the way your breasts bounced as you rocked yourself against her, to the way your legs trembled ever do slightly whenever she flexed harder beneath you.

god, you were gorgeous. your breath ragged, your skin flushed pink with hickeys littered all over your body, you were hers, all hers.

you could feel yourself on the brink of release, tightness building up at the bottom of your stomach. “i’m coming.” you whimper, hands coming up to grope your breasts to try and make yourself finish faster. you press yourself harder against her, and elisa feels herself become wet.

“do it baby, all for me.” with that, you came, moans spilled from your mouth, causing you to slump against her chest. she brushed your fringe out of your eyes, a gentle hand resting on your back.

“don’t think i’m done with you, miss star player.” she picks up your chin, a knowing look in her eyes.

“what?” you say, slightly disoriented from your orgasm, but from the way she undresses, you knew exactly what she wanted. moving yourself further down her body, you trialed hickeys down her body, sucking harder on the spot next to her cunt. a soft groan left her lips, her eyes closed with pleasure.

you make a silent plea for her to let you give her head, taking her finger and sucking it in your mouth. your tongue swirls around her digit, but stop when she opens your mouth and presses her finger against your tongue and lips. she watches and your eyes droop, you mouth something that sounds like face, but it’s muffled because of her fingers in your mouth. she smirks, removing her fingers from your mouth and using them to circle her clit, watching your eager eyes dance along her folds which are fluttering and wet.

“feeling okay?” she asks quickly, and you nod, heart fluttering at her warmth. you move closer, face practically pressed into her cunt. you lick a fat stripe down her core, feeling her precum coating your face already. she gasps and grabs your head, her fingers digging into your scalp. your hand reaches up to flick her clit, sending waves of pleasure that sent elisa into overdrive. as you continue to give elisa head, her thighs started to slowly clamping against your head, but you force them open, each hand on her inner thighs. she grinds up onto your face, your nose pushing against her clit, her body bouncing against your lips and your tongue moving in and out of her hole mercilessly.

the more you suck on her clit, the harder she grips your hair, causing you to moan into her. “don’t stop.” you needed no more encouragement, sucking roughly on her, your fingers now working on fucking her cunt. she finishes with a soft moan, her cum soaking your face. you were quick to lap her up, watching her come down from her high. you laid your chin on her stomach, looking at the way her chest rose and fell, her face full of fucked out pleasure.

“round two?” she asks while her eyes are still closed, smiling when she feels you press a kiss against her knee. you only grin back, pressing another soft kiss against her lips. “round two.”

©️northsoulss 2024, all rights reserved.

[realcube]

OVERHEARING SOMEONE TALK ABOUT THEIR S/O

characters ♡ baji, mikey & mitsuya

tw ♡ insults (in reference to the reader), violence & robbery 

KEISUKE BAJI 

♡ baji never mentioned that he was dating you to anyone in toman

♡ in fact, he hoped that none of them even knew about your existence, because that would only lead to trouble; and he was correct

♡ he was simply taking a puff on his stationary motorcycle, when members of the division started to filter into the parking lot that he was currently trying to relax in

♡ usually he’d try to ward off strangers so he could enjoy his time alone but he knew these guys from toman, so he allowed them to stay as long as they’d keep their voices down and not bother him

♡ most of his attention was on his own thoughts, but it was immediately redirected when he heard your name brought up in their conversation

♡ only your last name, so he wasn’t even certain whether they were talking about you, but still his interest was piqued 

♡ “they are on shift friday night, the only one left at eleven,” one of the guys explained, gesturing to his bat with a wicked smirk, “we’ll break in then. i’ll drive getaway.”

♡ “what if they call someone? shouldn’t we wait until they’ve left?” another suggested but was quickly corrected.

♡ “once they lock up the security system activates and it’ll be impossible to get in without alerting the cops. so we may as well bust in, handle them, and then steal the bikes.” 

♡ baji cringed, since he was certain that they were talking about you —since you happen to work at a motorcycle shop on friday nights — he hated to think about what they meant by ‘handle’.

♡ “now stop askin’ stupid questions.” the same guy scoffed, twirling around his bat, “i used to work there, idiot, obviously i know what i’m doing.”

♡ the group of six all laughed at the one poor guy who asked the question, and baji did too

♡ he laughed at the irony behind how they were calling each other idiots, when they were all the ones talking about auto theft in broad daylight, and discussing doing unspeakable things to a person, when their boyfriend was standing in ear-shot with a bat and a motorcycle ready 

♡ he did give them the benefit of the doubt in the latter aspect though; how were they supposed to know that y’all were dating when you are never seen spending time with each other?

♡ baji suddenly felt bad; it dawned on him that perhaps he had been neglecting your relationship as of recently. of course, it wasn’t with poor intention, in fact he thought he was taking the moral course of action by avoiding a situation where you are harmed because of his ties with toman

♡ however, being in a gang was no excuse to be a bad boyfriend, he figured 

♡ for now, the least he could do was take care of these guys to save you the trouble 

♡ but perhaps that wasn’t his brightest idea, he realised as he stood amongst the dejected bodies scattered across the ground, “i know you are all alive, so consider this a warning.” baji chuckled at the grunt one produced as he kicked him aside to head back over to his motorcycle

♡ before he left the area, obviously he stole all the cash he could from those guys, which gave him enough to buy the thing he had been eyeing for you

♡ though it took him a while to get his hands on it, it left him with the perfect opportunity to give it to you 

♡ “oi, open up!” baji hollered as he pounded on your door; if baji wasn’t such a bruiser, you would’ve thought he was dying 

♡ “what!?” you hissed, throwing the door open to reveal your frantic state.

♡ you were half angry at how loud he was being, and the other half at how he has been ignoring you for the past two weeks and finally decides to show up just as you were about to leave for work, in fact, you were running late for your night shift

♡ “no need to rush.” baji said, an odd sense of sincerity in his voice as he motioned for you to stop putting your shoes on, “you’re not going to work today.”

♡ you simply laughed, ignoring him and gathering your stuff to leave, “and why is that?”

♡ “well,” baji started, rubbing his chin for effect, “these guys from toman plan on robbing the place tonight. i did give them a warning, but they might still do it. and you know i just want you to be safe.” he said with a mischievous grin, as you both knew there was no way your shop was getting robbed tonight, unless the dudes wanted to try it with both arms broken 

♡ “so did you just come here to tell me that, or is there something else?” although you tried to hide it, baji could tell by your subtle flustered expression that you were thankful

♡ “i found this.” he lied, cupping your hand to lift it and drop in a gold bracelet, “one of the guys had it on him.”

♡ you gasped, taking the bracelet to examine the fine details, and noticed how it had a small crystal heart attached, “yeah, i’m sure a member of toman just so happened to be wearing a charm bracelet.”

♡ “i never said he was wearing it!” baji spat, swiftly snatching it from your hand and holding it above his head, “i can pawn it if you don’t want it.” 

♡ “i like it, though!” you said, reaching up for it, only for him to grab your wrist and put it on you 

♡ “then forgive me for not hanging with you.” he muttered, angrily clipping the bracelet through furrowed brows, while you leaned in to plant a kiss on his forehead 

♡ “it’s fine. i forgive you.” you couldn’t help but snicker at his word choice of ‘hanging out’, which resulted in you getting a swift flick to the forehead

♡ but before you could whine, he quickly followed it up with a kiss <33

MIKEY 

♡ one day he was visiting mizo to find takemichi and he happened to walk passed a group of guys talking about how one of them planned on asking out a person from a different school 

♡ at first he didn’t pay much attention since it was none of his business after all, until he heard that the person’s name and description just so happened to match yours 

♡ so like any good boyfriend would, he halted and told draken to grab takemichi while he listened in 

♡ as he gained more insight into the situation, he learned that the person happened to go to the same academy as you and had the same bus schedule too 

♡ it didn’t take a genius to figure out that the person they were talking about was you 

♡ as it turns out, the guy who planned on asking you out had your bus times memorised so if he was able to run fast enough, he would be able to reach your stop before you got on the bus, which is when he will ask you out

♡ or at least, that is what he hoped would happen if everything went smoothly and there was no unexpected interference from a group of delinquents

♡ mikey had many options on how to deal with this situation

♡ he could ask you to take a different bus, he could do nothing (because he trusted that you’d reject the guy either way) or he could beat them up right now to save himself the hassle later

♡ however, he decided to go with a more peaceful approach 

♡ he continued eaves-dropping until everyone besides the lover boy had left, so he could have an amicable one-on-one conversation with him — definitely no threats involved — and advise the guy to stay in his fucking lane and never go near you ever again, kindly. 

♡ when the day of the proposal arrived, mikey paid you a surprise visit after school and offered to walk you to the bus-stop; not because he was afraid that the dude might confess, but rather since he had booked you both tickets to the movies!

♡ but once you both arrive at the stop, you were greeted by the guy standing there holding a measly bouquet of flowers, looking quite taken back by the fact you were with someone else; even though mikey had done him the courtesy of explicitly telling him to back off 

♡ though he must’ve not got message despite the hand-holding, and he obviously didn’t recognise mikey, otherwise he probably wouldn’t have continued to confess, albeit with quivering limbs and a black eye

♡ but before he could even stutter out a greeting, mikey hissed at him, “what the are you doing?” yet the guy only replied with a shrug

♡ upon observing the interaction, your eyes widen as you turned to look at mikey, “do you know him?”

♡ “never seen him before in my life, dear.” he smiled sweetly, but it was ineffective; you already knew he was lying as soon as he called you ‘dear’. 

♡ “(y/n)!” the guy yelled, trying to catch your attention, but only shaking even more as your gaze fell on him, “i was going to ask you, if—”

♡ mikey let out an exaggerated yawn, widely outstretching his arms to distract both of you, “this has been fun, but we’re running late for the movie.” 

♡ “but i’m not fin—” the poor boy was once again interrupted by mikey waving him goodbye, grabbing your hand and swiftly guiding you around him, back on the route to the cinema

♡ before he even got the chance to cry another plea, you had both already disappeared around the corner 

♡ once mikey had dragged you both far enough away from the bus-stop, you began your interrogation, “seriously, who was that? and what was he trying to say? did you give him the black eye?” you had to stop to take a deep breath, “also, you said the movie would start in the evening!”

♡ mikey brought your hand up —which he had a tight grip on — and kissed the back of it gently, “my bad,” he chuckled slightly, a mischievous grin playing on his lips, “i forgot to mention him. i met him a few days ago and he was planning to ask you out so i politely informed him that you were taken.”

♡ “for some reason, i don’t believe that last part.”

♡ he snickered, “and yeah, the movie starts in the evening so we’re not running late. but he wasn’t taking the hint!” he whined while clinging to your arm, as if you were going to run away from him at any second, “forgive me?”

♡ “sure, whatever.” you sighed, rolling your eyes as you watched his expression light up, “but next time, mind your own business! i could’ve just said no, instead of you beating him up, or whatever you did.”

♡ “noted.”

MITSUYA TAKASHI

♡ during his time as the second division leader of toman, he’s overheard all kinds of stuff that he probably wasn’t supposed to; awkward small talk, plans to commit felonies, deep conversations, weed brownie recipes, discussions about health issues — the list goes on forever!

 ♡ however, one topic he has never heard any one ever have the audacity to speak about (within a ten mile radius of him), is you. even though, your relationship was public to toman. 

♡ your name was often kept out of people’s mouth since you rarely interacted with any of the gang members when you visited, hence they didn’t really have anything bad (or good) to say about you. none of them knew you besides the title ‘boss’ partner’. 

♡ so, that’s why mitsuya had to do a double take when he heard someone in his division mutter to the guy beside him, “why does his friend keep visitin’? it’s annoying. plus, they just sit and don’t talk to anyone besides ‘im. they must think they’re better than us or something.” right after mitsuya mentioned that you were visiting toman.

♡ he couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow; did that guy really think that he was being sly and quiet? by the look on his face, he seemed pretty self-assured. 

♡ “um, i heard you, idiot.” he hissed, pinching his nose and shaking his head as he watched the knucklehead stare at him dumbfounded, as if the whole room hadn’t heard him too.

♡ “don’t say shit like that. they don’t think they’re better than anyone.” he scorned, balling his fist and almost twitching with anger, fighting the urge to pummel that guy for the sake of his own reputation in toman

♡ and that impulse almost immediately dissipated as soon as you entered the room; his hand loosened and opened to cup your cheek

♡ he was as sweet as can be for the rest of the night, of course, and he still managed to send that dude daggers whenever he got the chance. 

[stxleslyds]

MOON KNIGHT #15

AND THE IMPORTANCE OF SHOWING KEY MOMENTS.

Earlier today I saw a really lovely post talking about how important it was that MacKay took the time to show us how Marc told Soldier, Hunter’s Moon and Reese about his DID and how they reacted to it.

I have to say that I completely agree. I haven’t been reading Moon Knight runs for a very long time but right now I have read every single solo run except for Shadowland’s mini, and that allows me to think that we have never seen Marc have a conversation like that with anyone that has been in his life (or better said, comic history) before this run.

(Diatrice was told by Marc that he had DID, but she hasn’t been here for that long).

Marlene, Frenchie, Crawley and Gena (along her boys) were never shown in panel receiving information like this from Marc, Steven or Jake.

Yes, there was the big team up back in the day, Moon Knight vol.1 issue 2, when Steven revealed to Gena, her boys and Crawley that he was Jake Lockley and that Jake was a disguise like Moon Knight. Important thing to note was that Steven never revealed Marc Spector to them (that was because Steven and Jake were disguises that Marc had come up with so he could rid himself of Marc Spector, although that didn’t work very well for him most times).

But going back to my initial thought, none of the two to four most important people for the Moon Knight system have never been explicitly shown reacting or simply being told that Marc/Steven/Jake have dissociative identity disorder.

Throughout the years it has been explained as the MK system being schizophrenic or simply mentally ill. Marlene was the one that was more “in tune” with Steven’s “fragile” mental and identity state but writers like Moench never actually “diagnosed” Steven/Marc/Jake with any type of disorder which I believe was because there was a lot of stigmas surrounding mental illness back in the day (more than there is today) but also because it was a time where there was a lot of debate on what was what and how things like “Multiple Personality Disorder” worked.

All of that, plus many years of writers avoiding the system’s mental disorder as well as doing with it whatever atrocity they could, led to us never having panels like the ones with had with Reese in this last issue. And that is a shame. Even though the DID diagnosis has been present in Moon Knight comics since 2014 (with Ellis’ run introducing that “concept” half way through), no writer until MacKay has taken a serious and respectful approach to the reality that Marc had to confront in the last few issues.

Marc pushing though his fear and internalized hate/ableism (due to trauma, Khonshu and years of being victim of ableist behaviour) realised that he should be as honest as he could about himself and his alters to those who are closest to him right now, so, as the needy human that I am, I would also love to see MacKay write or show in any sort of way if Marlene, Frenchie, Gena and Crawley have received this information, and because I am greedy I also really want for those four characters’ reaction to not be villainized or turned into part of the reason why they are not in the MK system’s life currently.

I guess that all of this rant comes from my fear of watching old characters be treated as if they were still living in the 80s when the newest have the fresh and open perspective that we should all have in 2022.

I trust MacKay and I can see the love letter that he is writing to Marc Spector’s character in this run. The devotion and respect that he has shown is outstanding, which is why I wish that if he ever brings some of the good old friends back, he also holds that same respect for them because none of them were as receptive as Reese was, as kind or as “accepting”. But that was back in the day, where everything related to mental wellbeing was borderline a massive joke, if those characters’ reactions where to be shown today I would love to see them being written as beautifully as Reese’s or Soldier’s.

Anyway, I would like to thank Jed MacKay for this run but specially the last three issues, his writing has been nothing but excellent and I am (as many others) truly happy and grateful that he is leading this creative team. I hope to have him as well as this team working on Moon Knight for a very long time.

[one-boring-person]

The Good Old Days.

John Rambo (Post-Rambo III) x reader

Warnings: implied death, implied injury, heavily implied sexual themes, possible swearing? Alcohol consumption (moderate)

Context: inside John's head.

A/n: so recently, I saw @slystallone 's post (Here) about a deleted scene from Rambo, and this idea (or at least the first part) came to mind, so I have them to thank for the inspiration! (Also, if you're as obsessed as I am with Sylvester Stallone content, check out their blog, it's amazing!)

Masterlist

His eyes scan idly around the room, taking in the cheerful faces of young people letting loose, watching as many of them move together on the dancefloor, keeping in time with the sappy music playing overhead. Throughout the room, glasses are clinked together, liquids in a multitude of different colours sloshing in their containers as the owners of said drinks swallow down their beverages, the strong odour of alcohol rife in the air. Sweat mingles with this, as well as heady cologne and perfumes, creating the perfect odour of youthful spirit, something he has long since forgotten. Around him, he can see a fair few couples together: one in a booth in the corner, one right in the centre of the dancefloor, and one to his left, each of them enjoying each other's company far more explicitly than the rest of the pairings in the bar.

It should, in theory, be an enjoyable environment, being around hordes of people who are having a good time, but John can't help the discomfort playing in his mind. Something about the strong smells, the heaving throng of people, the lack of clear vision of anywhere fixed in the room and the cacophony of raucous noise doesn't sit right with him, his finely tuned senses prickling at everything. Dimly, he's aware of fighting back flashes of memory that spring, unbidden, to mind, trying to ignore the familiar faces branding his conscience. A lack of control in an environment, particularly one like this, has long since made itself known as a trigger of the thoughts he'd rather forget.

Just as he goes to dwell on these, he's interrupted by a familiar voice, one that grounds him, reassures him.

"John! Sorry I took so long, some kids were taking their time." (Y/n) apologises as she drops into the bar stool beside him, taking her drink back from him.

"Don't worry about it." He murmurs back, twisting the neck of his soda bottle in his hand (he finds alcohol takes away from his sense of control), flicking some hair from his face.

Smiling at him, (Y/n) takes a sip of her drink, turning to face the dancers as she sits with him, the two quite used to sitting in companionable silence. 

After a little while, she finishes her drink and sits back against the counter, only to spring up again when she hears the music overhead change, a wide grin on her face. Bouncing to her feet, she turns to John, expression imploring him.

"I love this song! Remember it? From way back when?" She smiles at the memory, a good one through all the bad ones, "We used to dance to this."

John can't help the small smile playing at his own lips as he is reminded of how they'd danced a couple of times, back on his father's ranch.

"I remember." He agrees, watching her.

"Come on, dance with me now!" (Y/n) chuckles, moving her body in the bare impression of a dance move.

"No, I'm good." John declines initially, waving her off politely.

"Aw, come on! It'll be fun! Just like the good old days!" She pleads with him, reaching out to take one of his hands, very lightly jerking on it as he tries to ignore the butterflies rising at her touch.

"I'm not sure…" 

"Please? Just one song?" She gives him a look, one he has memorized. It tells him she wants him to join her, but that she won't be upset if he doesn't, that she'll understand. She always does.

Eventually, it's what causes him to cave in.

Sighing, he climbs to his feet, allowing her to pull him into the crowd, the veteran pushing down the distrust brewing inside him from the closeness of the people around him, instead focusing on the feeling of her hand on his, grounding himself. As she finds a good spot on the dancefloor, (Y/n) turns back around to face him, face light and happy as she starts to dance, just how they used to. Copying her, John tries to forget the awkward feeling, finding it hard to make contact with the childhood memories that would've helped him, his expression tightening as he moves. 

After a moment, (Y/n) seems to notice this, stepping forwards into his space as she looks up at him with a curious look, silently asking for permission as her hands hover over his shoulders. Nodding, he bites back the sigh threatening to leave him as her hands close ever so gently around him, his own coming up to lightly grip her waist, enjoying the feeling of her body in his grasp. Leaning into his touch, (Y/n) sways them in time to the music, her expression softening as the tempo of the music does, the two of them drifting closer as they move together. Her scent is in his nostrils, somehow discernible through the sweat and alcohol around him, calming him as he leans in further, wrapping his arms more firmly around her body. Carefully, he pulls her into him, feeling her softer curves against his hard muscles, his hands splaying at her back, his nose soon finding her hair as he buries his face in it. She wraps her own arms around his neck, delicately threading her fingers into his hair, stroking through the strands soothingly as she presses her head into his chest. 

As they hold each other, it's as if the world around them has disappeared, leaving them in a bubble of security, just holding each other as they used to, before touch meant more than an idle gesture. It means so much more now, particularly for them.

After a moment, she pulls her head back a little, looking up into his face, eyes searching his, her lips parted as she regards him. They're close, so close he can feel her every breath against his heated skin, his gaze flicking down to stray over her lips as he fights the urge to simply bend down and close the gap between them, and give in to every desire he's repressed for years now. Naturally, she notices this and smiles, reassuringly this time, before she leans up and presses her lips to his. 

Instantly, they find a rhythm, lips smoothing against each other with soft fervour as hands start to pull each other closer together. John runs one hand down to her lower back, splaying his fingers over the curve of her ass, using the grip to pull her more tightly into him, enjoying the feeling of her body against his, the noises she lets out only serving to intensify his feeling for her. (Y/n) gently tugs on his hair, her other hand moving to push up under his shirt, feeling over his tense muscles, arching her body into him as he lightly licks at her lips. Obediently, she allows him access, and his tongue freely explores her mouth, sliding wetly alongside her's, her moans swallowed by him as he rocks his hips against her. Idly, the hand she had pushed up his shirt starts to trail downwards, settling over his crotch.

With a jerk, he breaks free from the kiss, his eyes finally flying open as he snaps upright in the rickety bed. 

Breathing hard, he scans the room, instantly remembering where he is, the knowledge calming him slightly as he wipes sweat from his forehead. Desire and longing course through him, his eyes straying over to find the figure lying beside him, her body left exposed by the thin sheet. 

In the dim light from the moon outside, (Y/n)'s sleeping form appears peaceful, her muscles totally relaxed, allowing for a less guarded look to cross her face, the hard line of her brow and lips softened until she appears more angelic. In the many times they'd slept on the same room, or same bed, John can not remember ever seeing her quite so relaxed, not after they got into the military anyway.

They'd met as teenagers, when she'd come to work for his father on his ranch. During their time working together the two had become fast friends, eventually managing to do most things together, until they both decided to join the military. She'd gone into the airforce, before eventually getting into another branch of the Special Forces, where she faced a similar abrupt finish to her career as he did, losing all of her team to a poorly planned stealth mission, which some corrupt colonel in the higher positions had instructed them to do. After this point, they miraculously found each other again on the long road to a small town called Hope, where things went awry. Neither wanted to leave the other, and so they stuck by each other, helping each other out on the bloody road that came after the events of Hope, leading them to this point. 

Unsurprisingly, John had soon realised that his feelings for the hardened veteran were no longer as innocent as he would've liked to keep them. Somewhere along the way, through gunfights fought back-to-back, mindless races through the sweltering jungle to avoid pursuers behind them, bandaging each other's wounds at the dead of night with only a dull campfire to light their work, and the calmer, soft moments between them, where they both overcame (to a certain extent) the mindless grief hounding them together, John had found that he and fallen for his partner. She'd always been there, back when things had gone to hell in Hope, when Co had been shot, and when Trautman had needed rescuing, (Y/n) had been by his side, fighting his battle with him, because "his battle is her battle now, they are partners after all". She meant everything to him, and he'd kill for her. He HAS killed for her.

At times, he'd played with the idea of telling her his feelings, of confessing to her and hoping things would be ok, but he had never gone through with it. Something always stops him, and that both irritates and relieves him. He has never quite been able to put a finger on what it is, but now, watching her sleep so peacefully, he realizes what it is.

He never wants to lose her friendship, ever, and he's afraid he'll ruin what they've got if he says anything. So he stays silent, keeping his thoughts to himself, lifting a hand to lightly ghost it over her side, thankful that she's so tired her instinctive alertness has dimmed down enough for him to gently touch her without her realising. He never places his hand down, only tracing his fingers over her, keeping the touch gentle and friendly, should she wake. It would be so easy just to pull her body into his, to hold her tightly against his chest and bury his face in her soft hair,  but he restrains himself, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.

Groaning, he rolls onto his back, knowing now that sleep won't come again tonight, especially not with his thoughts so high-strung and confused, unless he manages to relax properly again.

Oddly enough, his reprieve comes to him in a surprising, but not at all unwelcome manner: mumbling in her sleep, (Y/n) turns over, her hands reaching out to find something, anything, latching onto him as they find him. Gently, she pulls herself into him, her head pressing into the side of his chest as her hand rests over his heart, his pulse pounding under her touch. 

Eyes wide, John gingerly wraps his arm around her, finding comfort in the solid feeling of her body in his grip, sleep coming back to him now as he buries his face in her hair, breathing in her familiar scent. He could get used to this, but he knows that he never will, not as long as he wants his friendship to last.

Just as he goes to drift off, he hears (Y/n) sigh one thing, her voice a bare whisper, if slightly more coherent than it should be for someone fast asleep:

""Wish you knew how I feel about you." 

Part Two

[shini--chan]

Allies with an s/o with separation anxiety?

Before I start, one thing – separation anxiety is a big burden for those who have it. So, if you’re reading this and have it, I recommend you seek out treatment.

Warning: abuse of a mental condition

Yandere Allies – Discidium

America

Alfred gleaned at your medical certificate on his computer screen. From experience he knew that the medical history of a person could be very telling, and a lot could be deduced from it. Allergies could be used as torture; medication could be withheld until a trade was offered. But the really interesting part was the psychological section of such reports. They weren’t always filled out, since people didn’t always have noteworthy defects or maladies in that directed. Therefore, when they were, they were all the more insightful.

Keenly, he scrolled down to the sought after part – and wasn’t reported. There, clearly visible, stood a very particular remark:

…patient shows signs of separation anxiety…

It was rather recent too, he realized when he traced the digital footprint. And idea began to form in his mind. As he steeped his fingers together and rested his head on them, a most devious plan of action came one step closer to being realised.

Since Alfred would really turn up the charm when it would come to wooing you, you would quickly become attached to him, a fatal mistake on your behalf. For even if he wouldn’t find out about your metal state from a series of documents, he’d quickly derive the truth from your actions or make you spill the beans. He would portray himself as considerate, only concerned for your wellbeing – which would be why you’d promptly move together.

As cruel as it would be, it would be a boon for him. America wouldn’t have to be concerned about you running away. Out of that reason he wouldn’t install any elaborate locks or security measures – your chains would be intangible. However, he might use your anxiety against you as a form of punishment. Alfred would tie you up in a dark room and leave the house for some time, or threaten to do so.

Canada

Matthew didn’t have to sharpen his ears or turn around to know he was being followed. Who ever it was, was being very obnoxious and clumsy, the snow crunching with every other step. At least they were putting some effort in matching their steps with his. Yet that wasn’t enough to throw him off – it never was.

Without any forewarning, he whirled around and caught sight of the flaps of your dark coat as you leapt behind the thick truck of a fir tree. Not fast enough – Matthew had always been something of a hunter, reflexes sharp as well as his intuition. You’d never be able to beat him in a game of hide-and-seek, or successfully run away from him, not without a giant handicap.

So, you had gotten out. But why hadn’t you used the chance to at least attempt an escape and had rather chosen to tail him?

“Why are you following me? I told you to stay in the house.”

You emerged from your cover, a sheepish look on your fine face. Tangling your fingers together, you approached him, lips twisted as you pressed out.

“I simply didn’t want to be alone.”

An understatement, as he was later to find out.

Matthew would probably find out relatively fast that you’d have separation anxiety. Not because he would obsessively stalk you (he would rather gradually get to know you), but through the obvious behaviours. Whether or not you’d attempt to hide it, he would eventually catch on. And he would be delighted and worried in equal measures.

Delighted, because then he wouldn’t have to worry about you running away. Canada wouldn’t be an extrovert, having a rather reclusive nature for a New World country and a small circle of friends – so he would spend most of his time with you.

Worried, because somewhere in the back of his mind he would know that his feelings for you wouldn’t be right and that you don’t lock people away. Your behaviour would only endorse his in a twisted way.

China

Yao had never been a long sleeper. Maybe it was the centuries that he had already lived or the result of all his lifestyle choices. Nevertheless, his sleep was always brief, 3 hours usually being enough rest. That why when you started twisting and turning in a dreamy haze.

He was just starting a new chapter in his current novel when you started groaning in your sleep, uncoordinatedly swinging your arms around with increasing panic. Upon realising what was going on, he quietly laid his book away and dimmed his reading lamp a bit. Then he turned around to you and waited for you to awaken from your nightmare.

It took a few minutes, worry building in his chest in a poisonous knot as time trickled by. This was why you were always meant to be with him. You were one of the finer things in life for him – in no way tawdry, rather with a splendour and depth. A sort of medication to distract him from the atrocities of the past, present and future. He was the same to you, he was sure of that.

So when you eventually shot up, perspiration on your forehead and tears in your eyes, he felt a sick joy. One that was only amplified when you gasped: “Please don’t ever leave me!”

Family is important to him; marriage is important to you. So you having a mental condition that would cause you to have anxiety attacks at the notion of him leaving you wouldn’t be all that unappealing to him. It would just strengthen your bond, and cause you to be more drawn to him, ignoring all the red flags. Yao would just have to play all his cards right in the beginning.

However, there would also be the issue with the other people in your life – your family and friends. While he wouldn’t mind you staying in touch with your family (with certain limits) your friends would have to leave your life. Something that would be all the more difficult in your case. Still, he would set to the gruelling task of cutting people out of your life and dealing with the fall-out.

England

“You know you would be all alone if you use that knife”, he casually commented, not even turning around to regard you. To you, it seemed as if he hadn’t even lifted his eyes from the newspaper he was so avidly reading, creating the illusion of having eyes in the back of his head. Actually, he had seen your reflection in the window pane when you had started to approach him, the steel glinting marvellously in the sun-light.

It surprised you that he took such a treat so nonchalantly, him as well to an extent. Arthur guessed he wasn’t as shocked he had expected himself to be, because he had intrinsically suspected that such a scene would play out.

“Are you sure, I’d either end up in police custody or…”, you tried to reason before trailing off. You had realised that something was amiss here, and it unsettled you.

Coolly, he set away “The Times” and turned to you, watching you as your resolve crumbled and fear welled up. “Do you really think that?”, he asked.

You trembled, your convictions crumbling. Through hard lessons you had come to learn that he was far more powerful and cunning than he seemed at first glance. At the moment, you didn’t know if he was just bluffing or telling the truth. Probably a mixture of both, and that was bad enough.

Arthur would mercilessly use it against you. You being scared of being separated from him would mean he wouldn’t have to regulate his sharp tongue or his more volatile tendencies. You being scared of being separated from him could be used as a threat, actually separation as a punishment. It would be something he would constantly hold over your head as a means of making you behave and as an insurance on his behalf.

On the other hand, it would also immensely frustrate him. England would be very attached to you, possessive of you, but he would also want to have some quality time with himself. That wouldn’t really be accomplishable with you clinging to him.

France

“Please, don’t leave”, you murmured.

At first, Francis thought he had somehow misheard you, but then, when he glanced up from where he was tying his shoelaces, he saw that he hadn’t. Your eyes were glassy, the skin around your cheeks and collar bone blotchy with the beginnings of a rash and your breathing was shallow.

It puzzled him and delighted him simultaneously. He didn’t know what had provoked such a reaction – it was late at night and he was leaving. Customary at this stage in the relationship since you didn’t live together … yet. To see you already be so attached to him delighted him in a sick way. It also concerned him since he didn’t like seeing you in anguish.

“What is wrong, ma cheri?”, he inquired carefully, standing up and gently cupping your cheeks. He watched with piqued interest as you leaned into his touch, the hypertension leaving your body for a few seconds.

“I get anxious just at the thought of you leaving. Please, at least stay the night.”

Besides being delight about you being drawn to him, like all the other on this list, he would also be very concerned. You having anxiety attacks just at the notion of you leaving would immensely worry him. He would encourage you to seek out treatment, even treat you himself, just to erase the worst parts of your condition.

Apart from actually caring a lot about you, his motivation would be partially selfish. Aiding you in such a manner would convince him that he would be a good person, and in a series of complicated mental gymnastics he would overexaggerate it, and thus convince himself that his obsession with you and all the actions that would spring thereof would be good and virtuous.

Russia

A knock sounded on his door, causing him to look up from the paperwork he had been pouring over for the past two hours. Internally, he snarled. He had said he was only to be disturbed in an emergency, something he had explicitly told the guards.

Nevertheless, he sighed and called out: “State your name and business.”

The answer came immediately, dull from the monotony of the man’s voice and muffled from the wood of the door: “There is somebody here that wants to see you. Had a nervous breakdown in the entrance hall and claimed it was urgent.”

Ivan rolled his eyes at the explanation. He really wasn’t in the mood for dealing with people that had nervous breakdowns anywhere on that matter, thank you very much. He’d really have to have a word or two with the personal here.

“Send them away.”

Instead of an answer, he heard some commotion and swears from beyond the door. Frowning, he stood up, half wanting to go to the door and give the group in front of it a piece of his mind. Yet before he could take a single step or even decide what he wanted to do; the door was slammed open. You stormed in and took a running jump at him.

Ivan would be a lot like Arthur in this scenario. You having separation anxiety would be one of the few things that would completely convince him that you would never leave him or betray him. So, there would be no therapy for you – indeed, he would even take steps to worsen it.

Yet he would also want to have his privacy. Russia would have been alone for a long time, so demanding he go from solitude to constant company would be too much. You following him wherever he would go, even to work and other shady places, would make him feel guilty and remorseful.

[wewinbees]

“you only saw me as a weapon!” an in-depth analysis of tommy and techno’s relationship /rp

a mild focus on techno’s thoughts since it’s his speech, but not one or the other is in the right here. a lot of this might have been said, but this is a BIG collection from pogtopia to doomsday to address as many angles as possible. to preface, i don’t think tommy sees techno as a weapon and nothing else, but the point remains that techno feels like he does, and that’s important.

this is from like january btw lol

we’ll start with “the blade” tommy’s nickname for techno, which got adopted by a lot of the server (as tommy’s nicknames tend to be). most other people have the Big [X] format, but techno gets this specialised nickname. i think the reason he developed a negative association with it was because of when it was used; when they need him for fights. the most important would be the vault reveal, with wilbur getting everyone to victoriously chant “we have the blade!” to boister morale. this would have been fine in and of itself, if it weren’t for the events of the rest of the day and what that name would come to represent. it ends up becoming a taunt to him, because that’s what people get close to him for. his use to them as the blade rather than his friendship to them as technoblade

tommy’s always very happy to call in techno for help, and techno usualy sorts it out with... minimal effort required. i do see this more as a blend of tommy’s pride in knowing techno and smugness at having that kind of upperhand in a fight over him viewing techno solely as a weapon to use, but this still ends up being detrimental to their friendship because of how much it happens. remember, the entire reason techno joined the server was to help wilbur and techno form pogtopia. techno doesn’t mind helping tommy out, but at some point it’s going to be frustrating, being called in for any and all minor struggles. but in the end of the day, it’s fine, because they’re brothers under the same cause. destroying manberg. Oh Wait.

the main issue came after the festival, with that faith and trust tommy had in techno being shattered; rightfully so, because watching tubbo get murdered was traumatic for him, because for tommy the pit was no way to settle that conflict (which reminded, wasn’t techno’s suggestion, it was proposed and pushed onto them by wilbur). since tommy sees technoblade as unbeatable, he couldn’t understand why techno was so easily peer-pressured by manberg. he was threatened by how many people were against him, he was stressed dealing with the voices telling him to do it, he didn’t see any other way out, he wasn’t getting any support from his only other allies even though he was looking right at them and they still did nothing.

but tommy didn’t understand because he thought techno could have won. techno did try to stall as well, but without orders from his friends he ended up following schatt’s, and once he realised he had the power to kill everyone on stage, he just gave into that power. the miscommunication during the pogtopia arc was why techno felt as betrayed as he did, and why the victim complex argument annoys me so much, since he was kept in the dark for that long while grinding resources for the army. also, since techno wasn’t there for l’manberg’s peaceful days or the start of the disc saga he would never understand how important those attachments were to people, so he’d feel little remorse blowing them all up (especially since he knew that was the backup plan for pogtopia anyway, and just because people were unhappy about it didn’t change the fact that it was a plan)

a lot of people say that techno should have known that pogtopia’s goal was to form a new government, that at some point he should have overheard the real plan. everyone agreed to ‘destroy manberg’ (as in the government not the land) but somehow techno never found out about the ‘restoring l’manberg’ part of the plan. how that happened, who knows, but in the end of the day, the writers chose for that miscommunication to happen for the story. it’s not a how or a why, it’s just a fact that was written in. he didn’t find out until it was right in front of him, and he was bound to feel betrayed by that, enough that he was driven to do something irrational. my personal theory is that techno was mainly following wilbur’s orders, and because wilbur was the real traitor, chances are he never mentioned any forming of a new government since he knew that would lose techno’s support. wilbur was probably using techno as a weapon, that was his mentality for a lot of people back then, but since he was the leader of pogtopia then that negative transference carried on to the rest of the members for techno, most of all tommy as he was the other key founder, and not as underhanded about getting techno’s help. i’d say wilbur’s address of techno during the final speech was the a key reason as to why techno doesn’t feel as used by him than he is with tommy, solidifying the anarchy bros before dying, meaning anything else could be revealed.

after the war, the bedrock bros were completely alienated from eachother. tommy started to blame everything about l’manberg’s destruction on techno, since wilbur died and ghostbur isn’t really at fault for anything. techno distanced himself from everything, going into retirement for the unforeseeable future because he felt like his violent anarchist tactics were futile and grew tired of constant conflict. he talked to tommy a few times during retirement, and every single time, he asks tommy how the government was working out for him. when he was at risk of being exiled, just before being exiled and immediately after exile. he wanted tommy to see the government in the same light as he did, because when l’manberg sold him out he realised they were the same. they’d both been betrayed by the government and from that point on he fully believed tommy would be better off away from l’manberg. but every time tommy said no, because he believed in the original dream wilbur had for l’manberg and because he trusted tubbo’s leadership. techno was smug when he was proved right because of course he was he’s technoblade. plus, they did view eachother as enemies at this point, so it’s not unacceptable for them to argue with eachother right now.

that brings us to the execution. traumatising! the refusal to run a fair trial and the dehumanising treatment from his old allies in pogtopia hammer this home, but importantly they rope philza into the chaos this time. ALSO it’s important to mention that techno was killed; he just got an extra life from the totem. he was actually killed and his character experienced that pain as punishment. he was pushed out of retirement, which was unjust in his eyes, since he believed he had genuinely changed. it didn’t help that quackity explicitly told him it wasn’t actually punishment for the withers, but instead a move to consolidate power, furthering his view of the cabinet as corrupt. from that point on he left retirement. he’d been doing well without violence, building connections with new people like vikk and lazar and finding a fragile form of peace, but in the end this shattered it. he’s back to being the blade, speaking with violence, because l’manberg made it clear there was no other way for him to be heard at this point. so he’s going to destroy them, even if he has to do it alone.

enter stage raccooninnit.

tommy taking refuge in techno’s house because he knew techno was rich enough for him to steal his resources and strong enough to defend him from dream is... interesting. he couldn’t go back to l’manberg, but he took refuge with a man who he viewed as a villain. this probably doesn’t help techno’s opinion of him, since he is quite literally using him for his resources, but in the end of the day tommy was desperate and quite literally on the verge of death, so he seemed to take some kind of pity on him. the exile period of their relationship is definitely the most important part of this argument, because it was just the two of them: no wilbur or pogtopia as an external force (though the pressure of dream and l’manberg still affected things) but in the same way ultimately doomed to fail. they fight for a moment, but ultimately settle as ‘business partners’. which quickly evolves back into a friendship like the one they had before the festival.

my least favourite take is that either one of them never valued the other at this point because this is just.... violently not true. they started off working for mutual benefit; tommy explicitly agreed to do minor terrorism in l’manberg and to help techno get his weapons back in return for techno’s help getting the discs back and taking refuge in his house. from the start both of them stated their limits:

techno was always planning on getting revenge on l’manberg for what happened on the day of his execution

tommy never wanted to upset tubbo, and wanted to put getting his discs back first

should note that tommy changes his mind on the disc’s priority later on, but at the point of their alliance he does make it clear that’s what he wants out of the partnership. the issue is that from the start both of them went in with blind optimism. neither of them lied to eachother or forced them to change their viewpoints but in the end of the day they could never be on the same side as long as l’manberg was involved. (note, i think some people think he wasn’t but techno was actually planning on helping tommy getting the discs back, with him getting annoyed at tommy letting tubbo give dream the disc because that made both of their jobs so much harder, but it was more of a long term goal bc he knew dream was hard to beat. plus before his execution, he visited tommy and strongly implied he would be willing to help with the discs, and that he would be a better ally in those personal aims than NLM were)

i don’t understand the ‘techno was only using tommy’ accusation here because like... how? what would he have to gain by having tommy on his side? he could definitely have blown up l’manberg without his help, so why bring him in at all? it was a very mutual agreement of ‘we’re using eachother’ that developed into genuine friendship. i’ve always seen it as a teaching experience: techno knows tommy had been wronged by NLM, and by extension tubbo, and by taking him on these minor terrorism trips, he’s showing tommy the worst of l’manberg. look, look at this execution stand, look at what they’ve done. and in doing this, he’s trying to prove to tommy that what he’s going to do to l’manberg is right. and in showing him the worst of NLM, he’s neglecting all of its good parts, but again, techno cant see any positives in l’manberg, and is trying to show tommy that everyone, especially tommy, would be better off without it. and tommy had criticisms of l’manberg before he was exiled, especially in regards to tubbo. he told ranboo the reason he chose wilbur to be president instead of tubbo was because he was worried the presidency would ruin their friendship, and Look At Exactly What Happened. techno highlighting the flaws of the country to tommy was easy because it WAS flawed and it hurt both of them. and techno’s hope was that tommy would join him in the eventual destruction of it, because he wanted to share his revenge with tommy and for him to get his own justice against l’manberg. but it... didn’t quite work out that way.

they both tried to make it easier for the other; techno told tommy he didn’t need to fight against l’manberg if he didn’t want to, but tommy came with him to the festival anyway to confront dream, despite techno’s mission being against the government in that situation. tommy started to view tubbo’s cabinet as corrupt for the execution and neglecting him during exile, and ended up helping techno out around the base and even toning down the purposeful annoyance (per techno’s ooc request). and the day before the green festival, he told techno he would help to destroy l’manberg (not knowing how quickly things would escalate the next day, since doomsday was fairly spontaneous) but in the end they would never be able to find a full compromise: techno would always be an anarchist and tommy could never hurt tubbo.

people accuse techno of not caring for tommy, which really annoys me because it’s not?? true??? if anything he shows more outward affection than tommy did. he didn’t have any benefit from taking in tommy, but he still did it. it’s not really basic decency either, given that they were technically enemies beforehand. he picked up on tommy’s fragile state around dream and defended, hid him despite the fact that he owed dream, he kept him away from logsted and the final control room after realising how upsetting they were. he exchanged the christmas presents, he jumped in to defend him against the rest of the server and when tommy betrayed techno, he was genuinely hurt! he was wrecklessly impulsive in a way the calculated blade usually wasn’t, almost blowing up half his house (including almost killing his villagers) because of the negative association with dnret.

that’s not to say tommy doesn’t also get absolutely crucified for betraying techno because of all of techno did for him. again it was somewhat inevitable. tommy said it himself, he was turning into someone he didn’t want to be, he was hurting people, and it was somewhat because he was living with technoblade. he was so powerless under dream, and he liked the feeling of power he got from teaming with techno, so much so that it drove him to cruelty, with even techno telling him he went too far with fundy. in the end, it’s probably for the best that he set that boundary and left to go back to l’manberg, but ultimately it was upsetting to both of them. techno felt betrayed because he genuinely thought tommy was his friend, only to be turned on last minute once again, now surrounded alone by enemies he was trying to protect tommy from. to him, allying with dream was just as bad as tommy allying with l’manberg. a betrayal for a betrayal, absolute reciprocity.

we all know the doomsday speech, with techno’s arguments being consistently stronger than tommy’s and much easier to defend, but we can’t just dismiss him. tommy had a lot of emotional input that day, and was angry at techno for a Lot of reasons, so he was more focused on shouting than making sense. he was more accusatory, while techno had fairly focused rebuttals (which, fair, i’m pretty sure that was techno’s first big addressal of most of that with other characters). it ended with tommy calling techno selfish for destroying l’manberg and techno coldly shutting tommy out for the betrayal.

betrayal was the driving force for techno’s “weapon” speech. tommy used him in pogtopia, tried to use him to stop dream exiling him and terrorising NLM) which he laughed at when told in character) and used him for getting the discs back. tommy wasn’t just using him, he genuinely felt like they had built a relationship beyond that, but when techno acted under his own ideals that went against his, then it was over. because tommy doesn’t value techno’s ideals, because they’re ‘selfish’ to him since he’s one of the only ones who believes in them. in turn techno sees that as making tommy selfish and as such they’re unable to compromise.

living with techno was an important part of tommy’s recovery process, which is still ongoing now. he saw immediate changes from his time with dream, claiming he felt “more me-ey” around techno and genuinely valuing his company. but he viewed techno’s alliance with dream as a betrayal, and he viewed the nov 16th incident as a betrayal. because he see’s techno’s belief in anarchy as selfish. something i never hear people point out is that tommy ADMITS he betrayed techno. after doomsday*, he says “all this time, technoblade told me i was betraying him. and you know what? (whispered) i was.” he’s guilty about it, and he understands that techno’s hurt. but he still can’t see him as being in the right, because techno took l’manberg forcefully and violently, and because tommy was hurt by their separation too. techno was powered by revenge more than anarchy during doomsday, which i think is important to point out. tommy had focused in on the threat of dream, and forgotten all the trauma techno went through with l’manberg, and left techno to rejoin l’manberg.

BOTH of them have explicitly stated “i viewed him as a friend but he never viewed me as one” and that’s just... devastating. at one point we can only hope that they have an in-canon conversation to actually settle all of this, but for now their storylines are separate and we’ll just have to live with that.

if anyone has anything they’d like to ask/clarify, or additions from any side i’d love to see it bc character analysis of dsmp characters is what’s keeping me going rn lmao. i said betrayal so many times here i am very sorry for clogging up the tag bc my readmore isn’t working yet (edit SAVED)

*i actually think this speech from tommy is very important, and not looked at as much as other stuff so im gonna link it here [55:52].

[pregnant-piggy]

I’ll take care of you

Draco Malfoy x reader

Request:  hey! can you write a draco x reader where they are in a new relationship and the readers parents are abusive but they don’t beat her bc they are all about the image but for torture they barely feed her when she is at their house on holidays so when draco sees her again after the holidays he notice that she is extremely thin and he is really worried and you continue thank you!! (anon)

Words: 1.6k

Warnings: talking of abuse (nothing really explicit, but it’s talked of)

A/N: I didn’t want to write this too explicitly, because it’s a heavy subject. I am sorry it took so long. I hope you like it :)

- - - - - - 

The Hogwarts express blew steam into the hot air as platform 9¾ was crowded with people. Families said their last goodbyes to each other, parents kissing their children and already longing for Christmas when most of their children would come back or sighing happily as they now finally had some peace. There were first years nervously standing beside their trunks, staring at the ink red train. Birds squeaked in their cages and cats that had escaped ran between the people.

You sat in an empty compartment, staring at the scene on the other side of the window. Your parents had dropped you off earlier, before the crowd. Their goodbyes had been quick and cold, like always.

Resting your head against the back of the seat, you closed your eyes. A deep breath calmed the nerves. You had been going to this school for five years and yet you were scared. Your sixth year was standing ahead of you, a year full of exams, new teachers and more stress. But you were looking forward to it.

A whistle was blown and the final students hopped on the train. A few hung out of the window, waving goodbye to the people on the platform until they disappeared from view. The decor of the station soon changed for the scenery of the green fields. Lands of grass and wildflowers passed by in a blur as the train made speed.

For the first time since you had gotten home after last year, you relaxed. Your compartment was empty, but you didn't mind. You embraced the silence and stared out of the window to the green haze.

The voice of the person you hadn't seen in so many weeks and whom you had missed dearly, broke your thoughts.

‘I thought you weren't even on the train,’ Draco said and he sat down next to you, but not before kissing you softly on your lips. You rested your head on his shoulder and breathed in his calming scent.

You and Draco had gotten together in the last month before the summer. The Slytherin boy you had had a crush on for months back then, had answered to your feelings by asking you out on a date.

- -- -

Three Gryffindor students were talking loudly in the library as you tried to concentrate on the work in front of you. Herbiology had never been your strongest subject and you needed to get a good grade on this test or who knows what would happen.

Just as you were reading about the healing powers of the pink and purple plants you had been studying this semester, someone else entered the library. You didn't need to look longer than a second to see who it was; you could recognise Draco from miles away.

He loitered at the bookcase and you quickly turned back to your book, before he would realise you were staring at him. But now you had seen him, you could not not think about him. His light hair and light grey eyes flew around in front of your eyes and your Herbiology was left for what it was.

You had been crushing on the Slytherin for a while now and you weren't even sure how you got to it. It was one day, when he bumped into you in the Potions cabinet and he apologised, that you had felt the butterflies as he touched your shoulder when saying sorry. And ever since then you had found yourself drawn to him whenever he was in the room. Funny how such a little touch could turn your life upside down.

Madam Pince had shooed the Gryffindors away and the library was filled with such a silence that you could hear your own thoughts loud and clear, as if they were being spoken out loud. Draco stood at the bookcase closest to you and it took all your strength not to look at him.

You stared at the words of the book that lied in front of you. They didn't make any sense. You dropped your head sighing in your hands and stared with empty eyes ahead of you.

‘What are you working on?’ Draco asked and you scared up.

The blood rushed to your cheeks and you scrambled up. You looked Draco and then back at your book before you answered. ‘Well, right now nothing.’

‘So I can sit next to you?’

‘Uhm, sure.’

Draco dropped his bag on the table and took the chair next to you. He didn't pull out any books but instead turned to you. His knees were pressed lightly against your thigh and you balled your fist on the side of your body, out of his sight.

‘Shouldn't you be doing something?’ you asked, afraid he would leave if you didn't say anything.

Draco laughed loud, receiving an angry glare from madam Pince. He shook his head with a smile on his face and got closer to you, resting his arm on the back of your chair.

‘I wanted to talk to you,’ he said with a low voice.

‘Why?’ you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Draco laughed softly again. ‘Because I want to get to know you. I fancy you, you see?’

You stared at him for a second and your jaw dropped. He liked you? You tilted your head to the side and watched Draco. He still had a smile on his face but you could see through his confident exterior that he was anxiously waiting for a reply from you.

‘I fancy you too, Draco,’ you said and gave him a smile.

He seemed encouraged by your confession and moved even more closer.

‘Enough to ditch Herbiology and spend time with me?’

‘That you even have to ask,’ you grinned.

- -- -

You didn't look very good, Draco noticed. Something had changed over the summer and when he took your hand and felt that your fingers took less space in his hands, he realised you had gotten thinner. Not just a little, healthy thinner, but more of a haven't-eaten-in-a-while-thin.

Your head rested on his shoulder and he could hear your steady breaths. He had missed that sound, just as he had missed everything about you. Even though you and him had only been dating for a month before the summer came, he had grown to you so much over that time. And in the summer he had not seen you at all and even barely spoken to you. Your letters were few and short.

Draco had been filled with doubts over the summer; did you still like him? Or had you realised that maybe you didn't like Draco after all?

But now you were resting against him, your hand tightly in his he realised that his doubts had been unjust. You liked him just as much as he liked you. Or maybe even love.

‘Darling?’ Draco asked and you lifted your head from his shoulder to look at him. ‘How was your summer. Your letters weren't exactly detailed.’

You sighed softly and averted your eyes from Draco's face. Your fingers played with the bottom of your shirt and you didn't look up as you talked. ‘It was fine,’ you muttered.

‘Okay,’ Draco slowly said, taking your hand in his. ‘You know you can tell me anything, right?’

You looked up to Draco and he saw tears pooling in your eyes. Without hesitating he pulled you close to his chest and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You sobbed softly into the crook of Draco's neck as he rubbed your back.

‘It's alright, darling. I'm here,’ he whispered into your ear and you tightened your grip on him.

For minutes the compartment was only filled with the sound of your sobs and Draco's reassuring words. He wanted to know why you were crying, but he knew he should give you your time. He was there for you, now and for as long as you'd have him.

‘You want to tell me?’ he whispered as you pulled away.

Your face was close to his and he watched the tears in your eyelashes. Your eyes were red and your nose was running, but Draco thought you were more beautiful than ever as you trusted him to be vulnerable in front of him. He cupped your cheek with his hand and kissed you on your nose, making you giggle lightly.

With the back of your hand you wiped away the tears of your face before you spoke with a quivering voice. ‘It's my parents. They- When they get mad at me- The whole summer-’

You stopped talking and sighed defeated, looking at your hands. Draco took your hand gave it a reassuring squeeze. ‘Take your time.’

You took a deep breath and looked back at Draco. ‘They don't let me eat. They say they can't physically hurt me, but they don't give me dinner or breakfast. They say they're disappointed in me and that I bring a shame to the family...’

Your voice got softer again and you looked insecure at Draco. He felt the hate for your parents razing through his veins. He wanted to do something to them. But now his priority was you, as you were crumbling apart in Draco's hands. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and you leaned into his chest.

‘It's alright, love. I am glad you told me. I will take care of you, darling. We'll find a solution. We will stay at Hogwarts for Christmas and I am sure my parents won't mind if you come to stay with us next summer. Don't worry, I’ll help you through this,’ Draco said, his own voice trembling with emotion. ‘You’re safe with me.’

‘Thank you Draco,’ you said in his chest and moved your head to place a kiss on his jaw.

‘I would do anything for you, darling.’

- - - - - - -

taglist

general HP: @kitkatkl @girllety @yuptha-tsme @sleep-i-ness @iamak20 @thefuturelawyer @weasleydream @missmulti @deafgirltingz @moonstarrnghtsky @bloodblossom73 @mytreec @lilulo-12fanfiction @emmaloo21 @kashishwrites @ananad1 @figlia--della--luna

let me know if you want to be added!

MASTERLIST

[farfromharry]

The one with the party | Peter’s girl

Summary: The night of Liz Allan’s infamous house party in the suburbs

Word count - 2564

Warnings - language, slight underage drinking i guess?

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The day of Liz’s party rolled around all too quickly. Mj felt as though she needed more time to prepare, she wanted to try and look cute for Peter, ignoring your reassurances that she always looked cute. Peter wanted to desperately impress Liz, and if he was going to have to pull the Spiderman card then, so what?

Ned was ready, he’d always heard about how cool Liz’s parties were but had never been invited, him and Peter being deemed nerds that obviously no one wanted to attend their house parties. You weren’t sure how you were doing. Part of you was excited to go and spend the night having fun with your friends, all dressed up and looking cute. But the other side of you felt nervous, nervous to see Peter in such a casual setting that you hadn’t seen him in before.

Of course you’d had your group study sessions, but then the main focus was science and now, the main focus was having fun.

Things for Peter and Ned felt a lot more rushed, and that freaked Peter out a considerable amount.

As disappointing as it was, the two had never actually been to a high school party, they’d only heard about them in the halls at school, or in classes where people were meant to be working. Peter and Ned had always been seen as the nerds of Midtown, so they didn’t really get invited to anything.

You had spent the last hour on the phone listening to Mj complain about how she would have to see Peter drooling over Liz the entire time, and Liz probably gushing over Peter for introducing her to Spiderman.

“Mj I just- can’t you forget about him, just for tonight?” you begged. You wanted to spend just one night where your head wasn’t filled with thoughts of Peter Parker, and if that’s all your best friend was talking about, that’s all you were guaranteed to think about.

Mj let out a groan of frustration, flopping down on her bed with her phone still pressed to her ear.

“That’s the thing,” she whined. You could practically hear the frustration in her voice now.

“I-I can’t, he’s always on my mind and I-“ you heard her take a deep breath, letting out a sad sigh. “I’m always thinking about him.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” you whispered. You didn’t mean to intentionally say it. Hell at first you hadn’t even realised you’d said something, at least not until Mj spoke up with some questions.

“Y/N, what did you just say?” She wasn’t sure she’d heard you right, but she also thought that you didn’t mean to say that out loud, and that was confirmed by the quiet gasp she heard from your end of the phone.

You laughed nervously, trying to cover up your mistake. “N-Nothing, what do you mean?”

The girl on the other end of the phone let out an excited squeal, one that almost deafened you it was so loud.

“Y/N, do you have a crush?” she asked. Your heart was racing and you were sure that if she could see you right now she’d be able to see just how flustered you are. You hadn’t actually admitted it to anyone, and you weren’t about to start now either.

“No, I don’t know what you mean,” you teased. Even if you weren’t going to explicitly come out and say out, you presumed she took your nerves as a yes, and she wouldn’t let it go until she found out who it was. But for the sake of your friendship, you weren’t going to reveal that information anytime soon. “Anyway,” you muttered, trying to quickly change the topic so you wouldn’t further embarrass yourself.

“You aren’t getting away from this that easily, miss.”

“What time should I pick you up?” you asked, avoiding her question. Mj let out a little laugh, rolling her eyes at your childish behaviour. She threw out a time and you were quick to agree, telling her you should go so you could get ready, even if part of it was so she couldn’t interrogate you any longer.

“Love you, bye,” you rambled, quickly ending the phone call before she got another word out. You took a deep breath, letting out a groan as your head lolled back against your chair.

You decided to distract yourself by getting ready, pulling out all the stops. Mj may not know who you were trying to impress, but you certainly did, and you wanted to feel amazing.

You took a long shower, letting the hot water calm you of any nerves you had about going tonight, washing them down the drains with any other negative thoughts.

After your shower you tried to pick out some clothes, a task which should not have been so difficult. You ended up getting stumped between two options, of which you sent both to Mj.

do we go 1 or 2?

definitely 2, you’d look hot as hell ;)

You replied with a quick thank you along with a blushing emoji, slipping on the pretty dress she’d picked out. As you looked it over in the mirror you were quite happy with her pick, deciding that she definitely had good taste, well when it came to outfits that weren’t hers.

Makeup didn’t go as smooth as you planned, not when you had your best friend texting you every five minutes asking you how to do a specific part of a makeup routine. You liked that she was trying but you still couldn’t help but laugh at how utterly clueless she was.

You eventually finished, deciding you were happy and now bubbling with excitement as you searched your room for the keys to your car.

You took a few deep breaths and flattened out your dress before you finally left the house. As soon as you were in your car you were sending Mj a text to tell her you were on your way and your night of fun was finally going to begin.

»»——⍟——««

“Are you ready to party?” she cheered, startling you in your seat for a second. You rolled your eyes before you let out a quiet giggle, nodding your head enthusiastically to match her energy.

She thankfully didn’t bring up the whole ‘crush’ situation from on the phone, clearly noting how stubborn you’d been about it earlier, and there was nothing Mj hated more than trying to get information out of you when you were feeling stubborn. So for now, she’d just have to accept your secret crush and leave herself pretty much dying to know.

The ride there was filled with a happy energy you hadn’t seen from your best friend in a while. You didn’t know where it came from but it made you warm inside to see.

She was straight to the drinks in the red solo cups as soon as you stepped inside the crowded house, barely even giving Liz a greeting before she was gone, leaving an Mj shaped puff of smoke in her absence.

“Sorry about her, she’s just excited to be here.” Liz told you it wasn’t a problem, inviting you inside so you could go and find the runaway brunette.

“What was that?” you scolded, bringing up where you’d specifically told her to at least pretend to be nice to the party’s host. She shrugged her shoulders, putting up an innocent façade that you could easily see through.

Mj took her opportunity to escape the conversation when she noticed your two other friends standing awkwardly in the corner.

She pointed them out to you, the two of you laughing at the uncomfortable body language they portrayed.

“Hey losers,” she called, catching Ned and Peter’s attention. You hit her arm lightly, quietly telling her to be nice to the two, oh so clearly out of place in a party scene, boys. You flashed them both your signature kind smile, your eyes lingering on Peter as he studied the room extra nervously, like more nervous than normal.

“Are you enjoying the party?” you asked. Ned nodded rapidly, elbowing Peter in the ribs rather harshly when he rudely didn’t respond. The boy in question winced, his hand coming up to soothe the spot Ned had hit him while they had a silent conversation with their eyes.

Peter eventually flashed you a tight lipped smile, his hand still clutching his aching ribs. “Great party, yeah.”

You mentally noted that he’d dressed up, and he looked good. Not that he didn’t look good normally, but you could see the effort he’d put in tonight, even if you could still see a slither of a cute science pun shirt underneath his flannel.

“Some people are playing truth or dare, me and Y/N are gonna go play,” she explained. “Do either of you want to join?”

You’d think someone was out to get the brunette with the way Peter’s head was whipping in all directions, your heart sank when you realised he was probably searching for Liz, sending Mj a secret look.

“I-I can’t, we’re actually meeting someone here soon.” You and Mj had the exact same reaction, nodding at the two boys who were acting very suspicious, and it wasn't just their normal, painfully awkward selves.

“Spiderman, right?” Mj asked, watching as almost all colour drained from Peter’s face, leaving him a ghostly pale.

“Uh, y-yeah, he said he’d come,” he muttered, fiddling with the hem of his flannel shirt. You watched the way Peter tried to convince an unimpressed Mj that nothing suspicious was happening. Even though the girl still didn’t believe him by the time she was dragging you away from the conversation.

“Bye guys,” you whispered, sending them both a polite wave.

Once Peter was sure you were both out of earshot, he turned to Ned in a panic.

“Do you think they know, Mj seemed like she knew-“ he rambled, having to be cut off by his best friend before he got too ahead of himself.

“No one knows, calm down, I doubt Mj would figure it out,” Ned reassured, patting his friend's shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah you’re right,” he mumbled, nodding his head. Peter took another look around and spotted Liz heading straight towards them, his eyes widening. She flashed the two males a sweet smile, one that would’ve had Peter’s knees buckling if it wasn’t for the super strength.

“H-Hi Liz.” His face was decorated with a dopey smile, one that you could find cute if Liz wasn’t already feeling bad for inviting him just for Spidey.

“Hey Peter, Ned,” she greeted. “Is um, is he coming?”

Peter visually deflated, his smile dropping as the corners of his lips curled down into a rather pitiful looking frown. He nervously pulled his phone out of his back pocket, motioning to it with a subtle head now.

“Yeah, I’ll just um, check in,” he murmured. Liz nodded, sending him a small sympathetic smile as she walked away. Ned turned to his best friend with another pity smile, one that made Peter outwardly groan.

“That was sad, right, it wasn’t just me?”

“Yeah, it was pretty sad.”

Peter ran over the whole scenario in his mind again, the words ‘Liz only invited you for Spiderman’ practically screaming at him. He shouldn’t even be here right now, and he wouldn’t be if it wasn’t for Ned spilling his secret to impress Liz on his behalf.

“I should go change, cover for me?” he asked. Ned nodded, the two doing their handshake before Peter snuck out of the house.

Since the spider bite, roofs had become one of his favourite places, and with the amount of times he’d been on them without a mask covering his face, he was surprised he hadn’t gotten caught.

Peter spent the next ten or so minutes trying to psych himself up to head back inside. The boy was stuck trying different lines and different accents, practicing all the different ways he could do this, but they all sounded dumb and he was getting annoyed.

Peter jolted at the sudden deafening roar from the mysterious blast behind him, his head whipping around to stare in shock at the strange blue cloud rising up from the ground a few miles away. His heart began racing and he was torn.

Be made a fool of by not having Spiderman show up to the party, or let those weapons dealers get away again.

Meanwhile you were trying to pry a tipsy Mj off of your side. “I’ll be right back,” she groaned, trying to keep you down on the floor next to her with her death grip on your arm, drunk Mj was a nightmare.

“I’m getting a drink M, i’ll come straight back.”

She stubbornly let go of you, her pouty face following you as you left the room with an amused giggle.

The drinks were all the way in the kitchen, and it was pretty sparse in there by now, most people were either in the backyard or doing, you don’t even wanna know what, in the many guest rooms in Liz’s huge house.

You took a moment to take in the relatively quiet atmosphere, leaning against the windows of the kitchen to look out over the part of the city that was visible.

It always looked beautiful all lit up at night, no matter what kind of area you were looking from.

What you didn’t expect to see however, was a red and blue suited hero sitting on a rooftop across from the house.

Your heartbeat quickened, glancing around to see if anyone was there, which thankfully they weren’t. When you’d heard Peter telling Liz about Spiderman in gym class, you didn’t expect him to be telling the truth. Partly because it was Peter, and partly because he’d never mentioned anything to you or Mj, which was kind of annoying.

When you looked closer you noticed a brown, fluffy head of hair. He wasn’t wearing his mask. He was close enough that if you were to squint you could just make out his features and- it was Peter.

Your eyebrows furrowed, staring through the glass like a maniac as you tried to tell if your mind was just playing tricks on you, but no, that was definitely one hundred percent Peter Benjamin Parker.

Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped, your palms growing sweaty when you noticed his head turning in your direction. You didn’t know whether to stay still or run away so he didn’t see you, but your feet had apparently made up your mind when you stayed rooted to the spot.

Peter didn’t expect to meet your wide eyes through the window of Liz’s kitchen either, but honestly he probably should’ve hidden himself better. Here he was on an open rooftop in his suit, without his mask covering his face, showing his identity to anyone that noticed.

He didn’t have time to try and signal for you not to freak out before you were already running away, out of his sight. His heart pounded against his chest so hard he could hear it in his ears. He was torn, on the one hand he needed to check out what that blast was down the street, but on the other, you could be telling everyone who Spiderman was right now.

Peter was fucked.

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peter’s girl taglist → @sunsetholland @captainamirica @tomsirishgirlx @givebuckyhisplumsnow @lou-la-lou @slutforsr @tayyx @gog0juice @minejungwoo @creatorofthegalaxy @annathesillyfriend @paninipress @bvttercupbby

[secondhand-trash]

“I love you.” “It’ll pass.”

Season 2 ep 6, Fleabag

(more lines I like from things I like as prompts for people I like)

A/N: I reserved this one for Dabi when I was making the list but fuck Dabi It’s Getou time😌✨this scene impacted me so hard when I was watching the show and I knew right then that I had to write something off of it one day

Pairing: Getou Suguru x reader

Description: He left without saying goodbye.

Warning: major manga spoilers (set after the hs flashback arc and connecting to the prequel)

Word count: 3007

Playlist:

Cigarette Daydreams//Cage The Elephant

You Say I’m in Love//Banes World

The Killing Moon//Echo & the Bunnymen

-

It wasn’t until the report came out that you realised Getou was never coming back.

All 112 villagers of the prev. ** village deceased.

The letters printed on the white paper was staring right at your face, but somehow it still felt like it was miles away, like everything you read fell through your ears as an echo.

Residues at the scene could determine that it was Getou Suguru’s curse manipulation.

No one said anything when they saw you staring blankly at the still screen of your phone. The last few messages were still there, sitting there and waiting to be read.

You weren’t sure if you were hoping or detesting a response. He probably never would, like he probably wasn’t your boyfriend anymore.

“Do you know when you are getting back?”

Getou Suguru escaped.

“This is taking longer than your usual missions, is everything alright?”

According to item 9 of the Jujutsu Regulations, he is to be classified as a curse user-

“Suguru?”

-and is to be executed.

The other two saw him again after that, which they had the mercy of not telling you explicitly, but anyone could tell from the heaviness lingering in the air. 

Shoko smoked more than usual.

Gojo got quiet, and sometimes you would catch him fidgeting with the candy paper in his hand underneath his table.

Getou’s table was still there, an empty space starkly standing in the middle of the already sparsely occupied room. You had assumed that they would remove all traces of him immediately, but you could understand why they didn’t when you realised that your gaze still paused at where he once sat whenever it wandered.

The same way crimes scenes were always kept as it was, only the supposed corpse was still out there somewhere.

It was a silence bonding, the unbreakable chain of experiencing the same loss at the same time, but somehow your remaining friends were already there when you pushed open the door to the rooftop where no one usually went to.

That was the first day when he was gone. You had felt an impulse to go somewhere where you were not trapped inside, where you could feel the air entering your lungs as you inhale and it seemed like you were not the only one with that thought.

Gojo was already there, with his back bent forward as he leaned on the rail. He had one foot on the iron bar of the railing, casting a glance to your side when you silently joined him in looking down.

There was no one visible in your sight, but still you looked, and looked. The quiet footsteps getting closer let you know that the third (and last) classmate was here, a soft sigh ringing before there was a click and the smell of smoke made you furrow your eyebrows together.

You remembered that he used to smoke rather often, but somehow always put the cigarette off when you neared. He stopped smoking around you entirely after you got together, because you would push him away if you smelt the tell-tale scent of tobacco on him. But if you caught him at the corner with one between his fingers, he would always pull you close with his eyes curling into two thin strands, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as his other hand fumbled for the mints he kept in his jacket pocket.

You wanted to be mad at him, but the chill tickling your tongue when his breath fanned against your lips always had you weak.

“If he had come back for you,” Gojo’s voice was void of emotions, without the usual certainty or cockiness that always dripped from his words, “would you have followed?”

You shrugged.

“I don’t know,” you shook your head slightly, your eyes not once shifting away from the empty courts below.

The reality was that it still took you some time to process that fact that he killed a whole village of people, even longer when you eventually remembered that he did the same to his own parents. It didn’t feel real, like a bad dream that you could wake up from if you beat the thought into your head enough, like you could just close your eyes and see him walking up to you with his usual smile, asking you if you really fell for it.

But the feeling of being left behind, of conflict at the sentiments in your heart that you couldn’t brush away, of doubting if everything you once had was ever truly yours, of anger at how you were supposed to be the closest to him but knew nothing, of not being told anything, of not receiving a proper goodbye, of him running away without even telling you straight up that he was leaving you behind, were all very, very real.

There was a dull ache budding at the back of your throat over the fact that your last image of him was still the way he looked at you with so much tenderness made you sick to the stomach, and twisted even more at the knowing that to you, that was his one biggest crime. 

Perhaps that was what love was. You could look past the fucked up morals or even the murder, but there was no ignoring that you were left behind, and that meant that there was where it all ended.

You chuckled at the conclusion you had drawn, earning you a questioning stare from the boy who raised the question.

Hell, then he might just be the love of your life.

“I don’t know,” you repeated, bitterness lingering on your tongue when you smiled.

Sick, just sick.

They were both looking at you, but you didn’t turn to see what expression they were wearing as you dropped your head. The metal pressing against your forehead growing warm under the heat of your skin as you muttered, this time to yourself and no one else.

“I really don’t.”

-

Time sped up from there. 

Life went on. Eat, sleep, going out on missions before collapsing on your bed when you came back alone and tired, repeat. Gojo and Shoko stayed after graduation season hit, you didn’t. You spent so many years there already, you clicked your tongue as you said, it is time to move on.

You were not really talking about High school, both of them knew it but neither said a thing. The empty table remained as it was until a new batch of students poured into the classroom that was once yours, before they left and another group filled in. 

Occasionally you met young sorcerers on the field who wore the same button that once adorned your collar, and wondered if it was them who sat at that table now.

You did not think about Getou Suguru for years.

Yet, you were not surprised to find the exact same man that once plagued your thoughts late at night standing in the middle of your living room uninvited, without a single hint just as when he left.

“It has been long.”

You had a gut feeling that he got taller since you last saw him, even though you were probably standing too far away from him to truly measure. The edges and corners of his face were more prominant, his hair running down his back in a way that used to happen only when he was at his most relaxed. 

“You should try to let it grow,” you mumbled as you ran your hand through one lock of his hair, letting the black silk fell from your hand onto his chest, “it would look good on you.”

He chuckled, and the vibration seeped into your skin from the way he laid on your lap. The weight lifted from your legs when he sat up, his face right in front of yours as he grinned.

“When my hair reaches my waist, will you marry me?”

You laughed, and the smile on him only grew.

“Where did you get that from?” you hid your smile behind the back of your hand.

“It’s from a poem,” he replied with a tilt of his head, “Never heard of it?”

“No,” you still sounded breathy from the laughter, “but did people teach you not to make promises so easily?”

The one long piece of his bangs had fallen onto his face, covering his eyes just slightly. He huffed as he pushed it away from his view, placing his head on your shoulder.

“Who told you it was easy?”

Ah, your jaw clenched at the waterfall of black that stopped just above his waist, so he did grow it out in the end.

You did not move from your position at the door, standing with your back straight and your keys still gripping tightly in your hand. “What are you doing here?” 

You were just about to head back from a mission when you got the call. “He showed up at Kousen just then,” Gojo did not bother with formalities, or give you any context as to who “he” was but still you froze, knowing exactly what he was talking about right away, “he might go see you.”

(You were sure that he wouldn’t, but it seemed like you truly didn’t know him well at all.)

He chuckled, a soft sound that made your nails dig into the middle of your palm, “Am I not allowed to check up on you because I want to?”

He sounded familiar, exactly the way you remembered him to sound like. The corners of his lips were lifted up in a calculated angle, smiling at ease but not from heart. You suppressed the heat that was near pouring out your throat, swallowing the discomfort back into the pit of your core.

Was it true that this wasn’t how he smiled, or did you only notice the way his eyes were lifeless now?

You replied with a smile of your own, not willing to lose your footing, “Oh please.”

You never bothered to check on me before.

He was not bothered by the dryness in your voice, and if he was then he did a great job at not appearing so.

“When I left,” he asked, “were you mad at me?”

“No,” But I spent nights crying over you. “is that supposed to come out as a mock?”

“No.”

You searched for a hint of wavering in his eyes, any sign that he was experiencing even a bit of the turmoil that was boiling and burning in your chest as you tried to keep your voice still.

You wondered what you had hoped to find.

“What do you want?” you said, and forced yourself to look right into his eyes. You imagined that you could see your own reflection staring back at you if you were any closer to him and the hint of soreness shooting right up to your nasal until it the sting that left almost resembled longing.

If you were to fight, you probably couldn’t win him no matter how hard you try.

“If I say I miss you, would you believe me?” 

 There was a ring in your ear as you shut your eyes tight, forcing the corner of your lips to hold back from twitching.

God damn it.

“Does it matter?” I wish I don’t.

“Perhaps.” 

He was looking at you, and you could taste the blood at the tip of your tongue. You wished there wasn’t some part of you that was near breaking down inside of you, or that you didn’t feel such an urge to let the tears run free.

But you wouldn’t, your pride wouldn’t allow it.

His arms crossed loosely in front of his chest, the fabric of his cassock bunching up around his elbows. You had pondered why the cloak seemed so out of place, and then you remembered that he wasn’t even religious in the slightest.

It was all for show.

“Leave.” 

There was a hint of relief when you heard your own voice landing back on your ear and there wasn’t the shakiness you had so dreaded to hear. You knew you had lost the moment you even cared, but still, on the front you refused to show there sometimes, during the many years after he left, you would still see his face when you couldn’t sleep and all you could do was stare at the ceiling. You hoped the iciness in your expression was enough to cover up the fact that you had no erased all traces of what you once had with him completely, and there was still a photograph or two that you hid away so that no one would know you still hadn’t let go of him, a traitor.

He glanced down at your command, before nodding slightly to himself. Getou Suguru turned around until he was facing your window and his shadow slanted on the opposing wall from the cold hue of the moon.

The pale light blurred his figure, like smoke, like the mint tingling your senses.

“You ruined my life.” 

I love you.

He paused briefly, before turning to look at you once again. You were taken back when you see the look in his eyes, and the downward tug at his mouth.

With the moon and the cassock and the unexplainable depth in his eyes, he did look the part of feeling sorrow for the world and pity for the masses.

Oh, how ironic.

Getou parted his lips slightly, and you could see the shudder but heard no sound, until they pursed, before he finally spoke again.

I love you too.

“It’ll pass.”

You did not realise that you were staring out the window, not moving a step until you saw the dots of snow slowly landing on the glass. Your steps stumbled as you walked towards where he jumped out, your hand touching the chilled glass while the world outside was a scene of white.

He probably came and left on the back of some curse he had, not leaving even a trace.

You stared and stared, and wondered what it would feel like to be buried under the snow that was starting to pile up.

-

Gojo asked you if you want to see him for one last time.

You refused.

Your bones were cracking with each twist of your joints as you finally got back to your own space after the whole fiasco that went down had you drained. 

Of all the days he had to plan an uprising, it had to be Christmas Eve. A heavy sigh slipped from your lips when the door locked behind you, the lights flicking on to show the red number on the calendar hanging on the wall.

It was quiet, the handle of the clock ticking was all you could hear. It matched the pounding in your ear, drumming and drumming as you stared upwards at the ceiling, sucking in a deep breath as the cold air filled your lungs.

So he really was gone now.

“He said he couldn’t manage to laugh happily from the bottom of his heart in this world,” Gojo called you again a moment later after the initial one, and you had to swallow the want to tell him that there was no need to tell you what he said when the other end fell into silence when you didn’t response.

Only there was. You knew there was.

At the back of your head, you had a faint memory of where you had put the old things that you couldn’t find somewhere to store when you moved out of your dorm room. It was hidden under the piles and piles of clothes and blankets that you never used, much like how you had not touched that box since you first put it there. 

You sucked in a deep breath when your fingertip touched the rough corner of the cardboard, reaching in deeper to pull it out. It was covered in dust and slightly crooked from all the things you had stacked on it, but still exactly the same as how it looked when you sealed everything inside with the cover and shoved it in your closet.

There was still an innocent sense of glee when you opened it and saw all the things that reminded you of your youth. 

The student handbook, and your student card that was stuck in there like a bookmark. The gold button in which some of the gold pain had already come off from years of wear and tear. Your graduation picture, which showed the three of you sitting side by side properly in all its rarity.

The familiar ache in your throat returned when you got to the bottom, where you found the sole reason why you dug this out. You smiled, your hand gingerly picking the thin film laying flatly there without a single crease on it.

He was looking at you, who had your face on his shoulder with an arm thrown around your frame. Your hand was on his neck, pulling him down towards you as you laughed and he laughed back at you. You did not remember who took it, or when it happened, but the rush of warmth in your chest as you held the picture in your hand must be the proof that you were happy. 

You should have thrown this away the moment you knew he was not coming back, but you didn’t have the heart to.

How could you when he looked so happy too?

Your thumb traced over the smooth surface of the film, over where his lips were nearly touching your hair, over his eyes that were fixed on you.

Couldn’t manage to laugh happily from the bottom of his heart... huh?

You laughed, at him, at yourself, before the droplet of tear finally fell.

Like there was smoke in your eyes.

Like the chill on your arm was not from the snow outside but from the taste of peppermint on your tongue.

[umbry-fic]

Sunflower of Parting Regrets

Summary: Inch by inch, leaf by leaf, the two sunflowers in the garden grow, side-by-side.

But on the day a flower finally blooms, the one who was supposed to see it by his side was no longer here.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters: Colette Brunel, Lloyd Irving Relationships: Colette Brunel/Lloyd Irving Rating: G Word Count: 2864 Mirror Link: AO3 Original Post Date: 15/09/2021

Notes+Warnings: This is not a happy story, and features major character death (though not explicitly).

Title from Yamashizuku's Sekibetsu no Himawari.

~~~

Hands patted dirt over fragile seeds, planting the potential for new life. The sun, just beginning to recover from its winter lethargy, shone gently down on the two energetic children.

"There! Done!" Lloyd exclaimed, grinning as he observed his and Colette's handiwork. Two sunflower seeds that had been cradled in careful hands and carried here to the garden plot, now buried, little mounds visible where he and Colette had piled the soil.

"Good job us!" Colette let out a little giggle, the two of them squatting next to each other, hands filthy with dirt - between their fingers, under their fingernails, some even managing to find their way onto their arms and clothes. It was like spring had already arrived to chase winter away, despite the faint dredges of cold still clinging to everything. "How soon do you think we'll get to see them bloom? The sunflowers in the book were so pretty..."

"Uh..." Lloyd cocked his head, trying hard to cast his mind back. "I think three months. According to Dad, sunflowers grow super, duper fast. Only if they survive, though."

"Oh..." Colette's head bowed, her shoulder-length hair swaying slightly in the breeze, a smudge of dirt on her cheek that Lloyd itched to rub off. "Then I'll take really good care of them! I'll make sure they survive!" Colette cried with gusto, head snapping up as she locked gazes with Lloyd, determination burning in her eyes.

He felt the spark of something warm in his chest, then, as he stared straight into that bright blue, which he'd seen so many times before. Not that he wasn't happy in her presence - hearing the sound of her voice was enough to make his whole day. Yet there was a little more this time, a little more that he couldn't put into words...

"Me too!" he replied, "And then we'll see the flowers bloom together." He held out his pinky, ready to make the most sacred of vows. At least, to a young child like him. "Pinky promise?"

He did think it strange, when she appeared to pause, hesitating before finally linking their pinkies together. Her skin warm against his as their two small hands shook together under the winter sun, sealing a promise never to be broken. For to do so was the most unforgivable of crimes in a child's mind.

"I sure hope they bloom soon," she muttered, staring down once again at the soil with hopeful eyes. And something else, hiding behind that hope.

And the sense of strangeness in Lloyd's mind faded away, a mere instant later, lost in the colour that was childhood.

~~~

"It's still..." Colette muttered, reaching her hand up to grasp at a non-existent flower, fingers only managing to close around the sun. She sighed, lowering her hand to instead rub one of the massive leaves that jutted out of the stalk.

Lloyd frowned, averting his gaze. He couldn't stand it, the disappointment in her voice, so heavy that it seemed to take form and weigh on his shoulders, dragging the both of them into the ground beneath their feet. He desperately wanted to do something. But there wasn't anything he could do. He certainly couldn't perform magic.

The two of them returned here, to this garden plot near his home, all the time. Every week, sometimes every day. It had become one of their favourite spots, sitting by the sunflowers as they did homework, talked, or simply enjoyed the silence. What had once been invisible seeds had become tiny sprouts, pushing their steady way out of the soil. And then they had become long, thick stalks, populated with leaves, gaining height with each day, growing side-by-side just as the two of them did. Colette always joked that it was so much like him, for his sunflower to be a full head taller than hers. The height difference clearly didn't bother her, since Colette had taken to affectionately calling her sunflower "little one", caring for it gently. Watching the loving way in which she handled it, watered it, sang to it, even, filled his heart with so much warmth.

Yet no matter how much love was showered upon the two sunflowers, the buds that had appeared on the first year had never become more than that. They simply remained buds, eternally closed, the flowers hiding away like they were shy of facing the world.

Colette must have really, truly wanted to see them in full bloom. To know of their beauty.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, repeating the words she'd been saying recently, at this very spot. Always out of the blue, always hurrying on before he could even pause to ask her what it was she was apologising for, the opportunity to buried instantly by Colette. And it was his turn now, the words slipping from him, the reason eluding him as his heart clenched in his chest.

"Don't say that..." Colette shook her head, taking her hand in his and squeezing. "It's not your fault. It's like what Genis said, right? There's not enough mana for them to bloom."

"I... didn't get most of what Genis said," Lloyd admitted, feeling his cheeks flush slightly as Colette let out a small, bright laugh. "But if we need more mana... Then we can just wait, right? When we come back from the Journey of Regeneration, together, the flowers should bloom in no time."

Colette's hand tightened on his as she turned away, just slightly. "Come back together, huh..."

"Colette...?" he asked hesitantly, wondering if he'd imagined what he'd seen, for just a fleeting second. The downturn of her lips, the sadness in her eyes. No longer were these moments easily forgettable. They stuck in his mind like tiny shards, to be turned over countless times in the safety of his own bed and the silence of the night, wondering if it was him, if he'd said something wrong, if he should dig deeper. Yet something always held him back, fear forming a taut rope around him that refused to let him get any closer.

"Yes, I'm sure they'll bloom then."

There was nothing but that lovely, sweet smile on her face as she turned back to face him, eternally plastered on her face.

"And then you'll be able to plant more. And see them. Next year, and the next..." Colette stepped closer, her grip managing to tighten even more. "Wouldn't that be wonderful?"

Closer, until he could feel the tickle of her breath on his cheek. Closer, until his heart threatened to pound its way out of his chest.

"Colette, I-"

He wasn't given the chance to finish, not knowing what he was even going to say, the words flying out of his mind as she stumbled back like she'd been burned, something akin to horror filling her wide eyes.

An emotion that shouldn't be there, surely, the sight of it stabbing straight into his heart.

"I'm sorry," she gasped, her hand ripping out of his grasp even as he tried to hold on.

What... What had he done wrong?

He was left to ponder that question, standing motionless as she fled, the beginnings of storm clouds beginning to gather overhead.

It was far, far later, after everything was over, that he realised what she was apologising for.

The myriad of broken promises she would leave behind, for they had no hope of being kept, and therefore her refusal to make another. But, foremost of them all...

A pinky promise made between two children, still colourfully vivid in both their minds.

~~~

"Sunflowers?" he muttered, wondering if he'd correctly interpreted what Colette had scribbled on his shoulder.

Colette nodded, affirming his words as she neatly folded her hands in her lap, sitting next to him by the window.

"What about them?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly. The memory of their little garden plot, the flowerless stalks growing ever taller, unable to flourish in a dying world. What had once been so familiar, yet seemed so far away now. Their wish, their promise, to see the first blooming flower together, what would surely be a wondrous sight.

You'll get to see them bloom soon, she wrote, this time on his arm, raising her head to show him a small little smile. I know you'll love it.

Surely, it wasn't his imagination. Not this time. That dark, monstrous thing, hiding in the depths of her eyes, how the edge of her smile seemed to fade, her own hand shaking as she drew it across the bare skin of his arm, her touch like burning coals. That same way her shoulder seemed to cave in on themselves, as it did on that fateful night when he had held two coffee cups in his hands, words inexorably surging up his throat even as guilt pressed on his chest. The way she seemed to be both leaning closer and pulling away, struggling to choose between the two.

He couldn't stop himself, something inside of him shattering as she stood to leave. In just a few steps, he'd caught up to her, stopping her in her tracks, halfway to the door. His arms wrapped securely around her waist as he pulled her against him, burying his face in her hair.

He could taste salt on his tongue, could feel the wetness on his cheeks, the shuddering breath Colette took.

He knew that she was strong. She was an Angel, a being that commanded fearsome powers by the blessing of the Goddess. Even before that, she had always been strong. She was no longer merely the girl he met by the garden plot, whose hand he had always taken as he led her back home, her blue eyes sparkling as a smile played at her lips.

She felt so small in his arms, however. Like her back was crumbling, just as he was, slowly breaking into tiny little pieces as he embraced her warmth.

"We'll see it. Together," he gasped, feeling her hands reach up to brush away the tears rolling down his face, her touch so gentle it hurt. It hurt - everything, nothing, something.

With her other hand, she wrote the same message into his arm, over and over again, as if to carve it into his skin, as if to comfort him, as if to convince herself.

It's okay.

Was it? But he couldn't explain what he was feeling, the only constant being confusion. Couldn't explain why he had the urge to stay like this, where she couldn't slip away and disappear like a small bird taking off into the night sky, never to be seen again. Couldn't explain the neverending tears, when she should be the one crying, after all that she had suffered. But she had no tears anymore, and only he could sob.

Couldn't explain why he so desperately needed to whisper his one wish.

Don't go. Please, don't go.

But, he had no real reason to keep her here. Not when they were so close to the end. One more step and they would touch that finish line, and then everyone would be saved, a bright future awaiting beyond. He was being incredibly selfish, for no purpose that he could discern. But yet, but yet, but yet...

Doubt clawed at the corners of his mind, but he couldn't articulate it. Or anything. Words refused to pass his lips.

So he could do nothing, but let her go. As he always did, never able to hold onto her, who was warm and real in his hands and yet seemed as slippery as a ghost. Her fingers lingered for just a moment, before being wrenched away. She walked out of the room, her back facing him, not turning back a single time. Her voice seemed to echo in his head, repeating the same words in an endless loop.

"I'm sorry."

He could only fall into a fitful sleep, the thunder of the roiling skies outside filling his dreams.

She had refused to show him her face, hiding from him in these final moments, desperately trying to conceal any trace of her pain.

To say goodbye, with nothing but a blossoming smile...

~~~

Footsteps came to a pause, as a figure clad all in red stopped and turned to look at the two green stalks, shooting out of the dirt.

It had been a long time since Lloyd had walked this way, the place before him holding too many memories that were painfully colourful, unyielding and refusing to fade. Ghosts lived in every square inch. Each time her fingertips had brushed against his, each laugh she had emitted at something he'd said, each wonderful smile, more precious than anything in the world. This place, once the beloved site of shared dreams swapped in fervent whispers, had become nothing more than the graveyard of hope.

He had come here today, however, on a whim. The burning rage that had powered him through the first few months - rage at the world, at himself, but never at her - had finally drained out of him, leaving him with nothing but emptiness. It was a miracle it had not consumed him fully and reduced him to ashes. Perhaps that made him ready to return.

Not much had changed. The sunflowers had gained some height, a few new, tiny leaves clinging on for dear life and refusing to be swept away by the wind.

And yet...

Lloyd took hesitant step after another, shaking hands reaching out to feel the yellow petals between his fingers, the wide flower head sitting atop the taller of the two stalks, angled towards the sun, smothered in grey.

It wasn't an illusion, then.

Beautiful, just as she had confidently stated it would be. The countless petals, perfectly shaped like they had been pressed with delicate fingers into their rightful place, their vibrant yellow, the sweet fragrance. Perfect, all around.

The miracle she had silently waited for had finally occurred. But she wasn't here to see it. She would never see it, that which she had once prayed for. Had she seen it as hope for herself? That if this miracle could come to pass, then somehow, she could be allowed to live?

It was no longer a miracle. Just a flower naturally blooming on the mana that had now become plentiful, siphoned from a girl who lay at the centre of the world. Had she hoped, then, when that wish had died, that the blooming sunflower could act as guidance for him? To tell him to continue facing the sun, to grasp his future in hand and move on?

The flower was none of those things, meaningless without the one who had shared the memory, who was meant to stand here with him and exclaim excitedly over the whole thing, gesturing wildly, the image so vivid in his mind that if he just turned, he would be able to see her again...

There was nothing but the whispering of the wind. Once again, he could not hold onto her, even now that she had truly become a ghost.

And so the sunflower was nothing but a reminder of the gaping hole in his heart, of everything he had lost and would never know again.

He had done nothing but fail her, countless times. That was all he could do, and all that he did now.

"We promised, didn't we?" he whispered, fingers tightening and crinkling the petals.

He resisted the desire to rip them off, one by one, to bring his feet down upon them and grind them into dust. The same dust that the childish promise he'd once made had become, lost and forgotten. How childish of him, to expect the Chosen to remember something as insignificant as a childhood promise.

She had only been fulfilling her duty to the world.

"So why..."

But even then, he wanted to believe that it had been special to her. That their time together had meant something, anything.

No one answered, because of course no one could answer. There was no one next to him, where once there would be a comforting hand laid on his shoulder, a voice to tell him it was alright, to soothe the bitter pain in his heart and put the broken pieces back together.

Instead, there was only the everlasting bloom of regret, its roots entrenched deep into his heart.

The heavens gave way as pattering filled his ears, raindrops beginning to slam into the leaves, into him, mixing with the tears on his face, into the ground and dredging up the heavy scent of soil.

The first of the spring showers had arrived, heralding the start of the season of life.

New life, the entire world blooming in vibrant colour, that he could see only in monotone grey, knowing this was all at the expense of another. Everyone was celebrating the new world that had been born, a girl's courageous sacrifice already forgotten, relegated to nothing more than a footnote.

She who was supposed to see the beautiful world she had helped bring about, who was meant to see spring...

She who was his entire world, his sunlight, his flower of hope...

She had wilted, and she would never bloom again.

[secretleeblogging]

Study Buddies

Fandom: Heartstopper

Ship: Nick x Charlie

Warnings: N/A (kissing?)

A/N: cringey title I know don’t call me out on it

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Charrr!” Whined Nick as he threw his third pencil at his lover from the other end of the bed.

“Nick,” Charlie responded sternly, though there was the trace of a smile in his words that made it all the more obvious he wasn’t truly mad.

“We’ve been studying for almost an hour now, can we have a break? I miss kissing you...” Nick protested, already crawling closer.

Charlie rolled his eyes, but still was smiling slightly. “I’m sure you can bare a few more minutes~” he said, his tone almost teasing, but Nick didn’t pick up on it immediately.

“I absolutely can’t wait another second! I need to kiss you now!!” He huffed, straddling his lap and snatching the book out of his hands, throwing it to the side.

“Wh- Nick! Get off me you twat!!” He laughed, trying to grab his book again, but Nick just held his wrists and smiled.

“Nope!” He said simply, and leaned down to kiss him. Charlie’s act broke instantly, and immediately he stopped fighting to kiss him back.

Within seconds, the homework was completely forgotten about, and both were fully immersed in the make-out session Nick had initiated. Both of their hands began to travel, but neither of them ever strayed below the belt, it just stayed to innocent caresses of the cheek and gentle tracing of the chest, but for some reason this always caused Charlie to pull away for air. Nick had never understood why, and at first it was because the thought it was something Charlie was uncomfortable with, but recently he had started to notice he only pulled away when nicks hands traced lower than where his ribcage ended. Nick was never the fastest at piecing things together, so it didn’t occur to him immediately what the issue was until today.

Instead of starting from the centre of his chest, he traced his stomach slowly and started leading up. Charlie let out a startled, breathless giggle, and quickly pulled away from the kiss to grab Nick’s wrist. Immediately, he began to panic.

“I’m sorry! Did I hurt you? I won’t do that again, I swear I won’t go lower than-“

“Nick,” Charlie said with a calm smile, shaking his head. “I’m fine, really. I’m just a bit sensitive there is all...”

Nick still couldn’t piece it together. “Sensitive?” He asked. “What do you mean?”

Charlie was beginning to get a little flustered, trying to find a better way to phrase it so that Nick would understand without explicitly stating it out loud. “Well... you know... just- well-“

Nick waited patiently for an answer, tilting his head, but it only registered when Charlie hid his face behind his hands out of embarrassment.

His eyes lit up at the realisation, and immediately, a grin took over his face. “Charlie... you aren’t ticklish, are you?” He asked, but was met only by a flustered whine from the younger boy. “Oh my god-“

“It’s so embarrassing!!! You can’t tell anyone alright?!? No one!!” Charlie said desperately, but Nick was just grinning happily to himself.

“This is the cutest thing I have ever heard of-“ he exclaimed, and without warning, began to skitter his fingers over Charlie’s stomach.

Charlie let out a startled squeal and almost instantly broke into a fit of bubbly giggles, arching his back and latching onto nick’s wrists, but the first thing Nick noticed was that Charlie wasn’t pushing him away. He was just holding him...

He was quickly distracted by this thought however, when Charlie’s giggles upped a notch as his hands reached his hips. Nick grinned and began to gently massage the dips on each side with his thumb, totally melting at the sight of Charlie having such a hysterical giggle fit, his cheeks all flushed and his hair all messy and in his face. Nick cooed and teased him, grinning playfully and ruffling his hair as he tickled the boy beneath him breathless. He tweaked at his ribs, blew raspberries in the crook of his neck, tried everything he could to make him as giggly as possible while still teasing him all the while.

“Hey, mum told me to let you know that-“

Everyone paused immediately, and silence filled the room for a second other than the sound of charlie’s soft panting. Looking to the door, Nick went bright red seeing Tori stood just outside the room.

“Dinner’s ready in ten,” she finished, watching the two and smirking a bit. Silence filled the room once more, and just as she was about to leave, Tori turned back to Nick. “If I were you, I’d go for his knees. Don’t feel bad about it, he loves it~”

Charlie’s eyes widened and he sat up immediately. “Tori!!!!!” He yelled, but she was already gone, and Nick was already grinning evilly.

“You have ticklish knees?” He chuckled with a raised eyebrow, and Charlie let out a loud, flustered groan.

“Shut up-“

“And you like it? I can’t believe you just keep getting cuter!” Nick squeaked as he shuffled back and grinned, beginning to squeeze the soft flesh above Charlie’s kneecap.

To be totally honest, the shriek that came from the other was not at all what Nick had been expecting, and it totally encouraged him to squeeze even more.

Charlie’s laughter grew loud and boisterous, and he began to squirm a little more violently. This didn’t stop Nick from exploring, skittering his fingers over his knees and even behind them (which elicited the most adorable and frantic giggles).

Soon, Charlie was getting a little breathless, and his grip on Nick’s wrists began to increase as he tried pushing him away. “P-PLEHEHEASE!! NOHO MOHORE!!!” He begged, and Nick’s eyes widened as he stopped immediately.

“Sorry, did I go to far? I won’t do it again, I was just curious about-“

“No!” Charlie squeaked, panting and blushing more before pulling Nick into a hug. “I just... I needed a breather was all...”

Nick tilted his head and raised a brow before putting his arms around him again. “So... if I did it again... would you be mad?” He asked, and Charlie hid his face in his chest before shaking his head.

“No... i- I’d like that...” he mumbled quietly, not daring to lift his head to see Nick’s reaction for fear that it would be negative.

However, almost instantly, Nick broke into a massive, dorky grin. “Okay!! Let me know if you want me to do it again, I’ll happily do it!!” He beamed.

Charlie was totally in shock. Nick... genuinely thought it was cute? This had been one of Charlie’s biggest secrets that he was majorly embarrassed about and Nick had the audacity to find it cute? How did he deserve someone so sweet?

“Charlie...?” Nick said softly as they laid there and cuddled.

“Mm?” Responded Charlie, lifting his head a little so he could see Nick’s face.

“Why didn’t you tell me before...?” He asked softly, “That you were ticklish? Or that you liked it? You know I would have done this a lot sooner...”

Charlie sighed and leaned his head against him. “I don’t know... it’s just a bit weird, isn’t it? It’s not something you’re supposed to like or enjoy... I guess I always worried you’d make fun of me for it...”

Nick gasped softly and frowned. “Charlie, I’d never make fun of you!! Especially if it’s about something that makes you happy! It does make you happy, doesn’t it?” He asked, to which Charlie reluctantly nodded.

“See! I will always do it if it makes you happy. I could never make fun of you for something like that. And besides, I kind of really enjoy tickling you, so...”

Charlie blushed even more and hid his face with his hand in Nick’s chest. “How did I get so lucky to have someone like you...?” He pouted, and Nick just smiled and shrugged.

“I wouldn’t have fallen in love with anyone else,” he chuckled as he squeezed him gently.

Charlie gave a smile and a content sigh as they cuddled, fingers gently tracing along Nick’s back, resulting in a few twitches and muffled giggles. His eyes lighting up, Charlie lifted his head.

“Nick... you’re not ticklish, are you?”

[lifeofkaze]

When Stars Ignite - Chapter 12

HPHM Rockstar AU

A/N: Surprise, a new chapter already! This one and the Chapter 11 were actually supposed to be one single chapter but we decided to cut it due to my inability to keep things short length. Hence, the same title with an addition and the consecutive days - just so you don't wonder. Also, in case anyone was confused by the timeframe reading Chapter 11, this supposed to be a flashback to when the whole thing between them started - sorry for not making this clear in the first place 💛

General Warning: This whole fic has a general warning of being NSFW / 18+. We will give specific warnings for every chapter in itself, but several adult themes will be more or less present in every chapter, may it be explicitly or in mention. These include sexual topics, drug abuse, (ab)use of alcohol, smoking and a whole lot of cursing.

Specific Warning: Langague, mention of alcohol and drug abuse, mention of NSFW content

~~~

Find the masterpost here, the previous chapter here and the next one here. The songs featured before every chapter can be found on this pretty badass playlist here.

~~~

This work is a collaboration with @the-al-chemist

Taglist: @slytherindisaster @night-rhea @carewyncromwell

It's just the way that you walk

It's just the way that you talk

Like it ain't no thing

And every single day is just a fling

Then the morning comes

~ Smash Mouth - Then The Morning Comes ~

Lizzie woke the next morning to a painful pounding inside her head and a mouth as dry as dust. It took her a few moments to find her bearings; the light of the morning sun didn’t fall onto her bed like it did now, and neither did her sheets smell like Orion’s aftershave.

With that thought the memories of last night hit her like a freight train. Covering her eyes with her hand, she let her head slump back onto the pillow, a breathy chuckle leaving her parched throat. She certainly hadn’t expected that to happen when she had agreed to go to her first poetry slam with Orion. Saying she regretted sleeping with him would have been a blatant lie, though; it had been far too good for that.

Sitting up slowly, Lizzie stretched her back, rolling her neck from side to side; her head hurt like hell but it wasn’t as bad as she had anticipated. Orion seemed to be up already, which didn’t surprise her; Lizzie knew he was an early riser from the many years they had spent touring together.

Her eyes fell onto the nightstand and the corners of her mouth twitched into a smile. A full bottle of water and a blister pack of painkillers were waiting for her there. Not sure what she was more grateful for, the meds or the water, Lizzie took a large gulp out of the bottle first before washing down one of the pills with a second, smaller sip; her mouth was so dry, she wasn’t even sure any of the water was reaching her stomach at all.

She sat between the sheets for a little longer, her back leaned against the rough brick wall. Taking small sips out of her bottle every now and again she contemplated last night’s events.

In a thousand years she wouldn’t have anticipated ending up in bed with Orion when all they’d had planned had been a night out together. And it wasn’t like she could blame it all on getting drunk and high out of her mind either; Lizzie was honest enough with herself to admit she’d always found him more than a little attractive, but so far, it had stopped for her at that.

The dreamcatcher hanging from the window frame directly above the bed was painting intricate shadows on the sheets. Lost in her thoughts, Lizzie watched them, trying to discern if she felt any different after spending the night with one of her best friends.

If she was completely honest with herself, the answer was no. Neither she nor her feelings towards Orion seemed to have changed in any way.

She shrugged the thought off and swung her legs out of the bed, standing up slowly in case her circulation was still funky. She grabbed her shorts from the ground where she had unceremoniously tossed them last night. Exchanging the shirt Orion had given her with her own top, she pulled a new hair tie from her pocket and pulled her tangled hair out of her face.

With the warm shirt and her hair gone from her bare shoulders, Lizzie noticed how cool the morning air felt against her skin. She grabbed the black hoodie she had borrowed yesterday from another place on the floor and put it on again. Following the soft sound of Orion’s guitar that was drifting down from the rooftop terrace, she climbed up the steps and through the open skylight.

Orion was sitting on the deckchair with his acoustic guitar in his hands, playing a melody Lizzie didn’t recognise. One of his countless notebooks was lying in front of him and she could spot a pencil being stuck behind his ear. Lizzie waited until he stopped playing to write something down before she walked over to him.

He looked up from his notes as she sat down on the end of the deckchair. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” Lizzie smiled. She tilted her head, trying to catch a glimpse of what Orion was composing. “What was that you were playing?”

“Something new,” he smirked. He closed the notebook and carefully put his guitar away. “Did you sleep well?”

“Like a baby,” Lizzie chuckled, “No wonder though…” She indicated the water bottle she was still holding, “Thanks for that, I didn’t even realise how thirsty I was.”

“That’s what smoking does to you,” Orion shrugged. “I got us some fruit from the market down the road for breakfast, if you want some.”

Lizzie had already spotted the huge plate laden with an assortment of colourful fruit on the table behind him. It was only now that she realised just how hungry she was. “How do you know that’s what I like for breakfast?”

He looked at her as if she had lost her mind. “We’ve been touring together for five years now, remember?”

Lizzie felt her cheeks go red. “Obviously. I can’t think before coffee.”

“I made you some, but no idea if it’s good,” Orion shrugged. “You know I don’t drink coffee myself.”

Lizzie made her way over to the table and poured herself a cup. “Then why do you have coffee in the first place?”

“Merula likes some when she’s here.”

She took her first sip after adding sugar and milk but even then the bitter taste was so overwhelmingly strong that Lizzie couldn’t help but grimace.

Orion watched her with a sympathetic expression. “Too strong?”

“A little,” Lizzie croaked, trying to wash the taste away with another sip of water.

“Sorry, that’s how Merula likes it.”

“No wonder she never laughs if her days start like this,” Lizzie replied sardonically.

Orion had to chuckle at her words. “Our tastes can mirror our personalities, that’s true; I wouldn’t tell her that, though.”

He raised his own mug that had been resting on the floor beside him. “If you don’t like the coffee, I can only offer you tea, I’m afraid.”

Gingerly pushing her coffee cup as far away from her as possible, Lizzie nodded gratefully. “I’d be fine with that.”

Lizzie was surprised at how relaxed and comfortable the atmosphere between them was; it was like having breakfast with her best friend, just like it always had.

None of them spoke about what had happened last night, nor did they feel the need to. Now, in the light of a new day, the fact that they had slept with each other seemed almost surreal. Lizzie was relieved to see that, just like her, Orion didn’t seem to have any issues with it whatsoever.

She had just picked out another cherry from the fruit platter when her phone started ringing, the familiar picture of Skye flashing across the screen. She motioned for Orion to be silent before accepting the call.

“What’s up, Skye?” she greeted her breezily.

Skye didn’t seem to share her good mood, however. “Where the fuck are you?”

“What?”

“We were meant to go running today? I’ve been waiting for a solid twenty minutes now.”

Lizzie mouthed a silent curse; she had completely forgotten about that. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry! I slept in, it got a little later yesterday than I expected.” She tried not to grin as her eyes flicked over to Orion.

“Oh yeah, how was the slam?”

Lizzie almost choked on her tea as she tried not to snort with laughter. “You want to know how the slam was?” she repeated Skye’s words, watching Orion cover his mouth with his hand as he, too, was trying very hard not to laugh.

“It was very good, thank you for asking. I got some whole new perspectives out of it.”

“Maybe I should come next time.”

“Oh, believe me,” Lizzie grinned, “it wouldn’t have been your thing at all.”

“Hm, if you say so. How about Orion? Haven’t seen him quite so excited about something in a long time.”

“Well, I think he had quite a good night,” she smirked, throwing her cherry at Orion as he was shaking with silent laughter.

“Anyway,” Skye sighed through the speaker, “what’s the deal now? Could be at your place in ten minutes.”

Lizzie racked her brain, trying to come up with a suitable excuse. “Uhm no, I’m actually not home right now.” Her gaze fell onto her cup of green tea. “I ran straight out of coffee this morning and I’m on the hunt for some.”

Luckily, Skye seemed to buy it. “Fine, want to meet for lunch later?”

“Make it dinner and I’m in,” Lizzie answered, “Say hi to Erika for me,” she couldn’t help but add with a wicked grin.

She could practically see Skye blushing, even through her phone. “What makes you think I’m with -”

But Lizzie had already hung up on her.

The laughter was still dancing in Orion’s eyes when he shook his head. “You’re truly evil, do you know that?”

Lizzie chuckled. “That’s not what you said last night.”

“Fair enough,” Orion conceded. “But I’m curious, why did you lie to her?”

“First of all, I didn’t lie; I just didn’t tell her all the details. It’s none of her business anyway.” The smile vanished from her face and Lizzie averted her eyes. “And besides, I don’t want her to get into a conflict because she’s hiding something from her father.”

She took a deep breath, the mood suddenly not at all relaxed anymore. “And about that…”

But Orion had already guessed what she wanted to say. “You want to keep this a secret.” It wasn’t a question but an observation.

“If that’s cool with you.”

To her relief, Orion nodded. “It suits me well. I agree with you, it’s no one’s business but our own. And a secret shared between friends can only serve to deepen the friendship.”

Lizzie nodded in agreement, glad to see they were on the same page about this. She finished her tea, popped another cherry into her mouth and got up to leave.

“Is it okay if I borrow that for today?” she asked, motioning at the sweater she was still wearing. It wasn’t cold by any means, but the sweater was cosy and soft, just what she needed on a hungover day like this. It smelled like something resembling ginger, a scent she found very pleasant.

Orion followed her inside and showed her to the door. Just as she was about to leave, he caught her wrist and held her back.

“Any chance for another kiss?”

Lizzie hesitated, looking at him apologetically. “Sorry, I don’t usually do that.” Her lips twisted into a sly smile as she added, “And you got way more than a kiss anyway.”

She turned to go, but changed her mind on a whim; standing on her tiptoes, Lizzie pressed a quick kiss onto his cheek.

“Maybe next time.”

[youngclaire]

One Last Final Goodbye

I rewrote sending Claire back through the stones at the end of book 2 but from Jamie's POV. I thought it would be a nice way to ease myself into writing these two. This is very book compliant, I actually bad the book open next to me whilst I wrote this in order to translate it from Claire's POV to Jamie's and it was a lot of fun. It's not a copy of the fuller chapter, it's been shortened down in places but the essence is there. I've also removed bits and pieces. Uhh yeah...all dialogue in this belongs to Diana and the book I'm just responsible for remixing the words. Anyway, I hope whoever bothers to read this likes it :)

(This is also my first fic in this fandom with these two so don't expect it to be perfect, it probably isn't)

- - -

He wouldn’t stop for anything; not food, water, or rest. He keeps the horse at a constant gallop at all times, scared that if he paused or hesitated for even a moment he would lose all courage and go neither back or forward.

I shall see my wife safe, is a mantra that keeps him riding. If he is to die tonight or on the battlefield tomorrow, he would not take her down with him; not her or the innocent being she carries inside her.

The stones come into view just above him. A cursed salvation of granite and Jamie tries not to see them, his gaze fixated forward. Behind him, Claire lets her displeasure be known, protesting against the idea. Jamie steels himself against them, clenches his jaw and gallops harder, fighting the urge to give in. This was the only way to see her safe and unharmed, he tells himself.

She protests still, even while he urges her up to the ruined cottage. She doesn’t realise he has no intention of parting with her right now, he just wants time to breathe, to think, to let the panic and worry abate. He sinks to the ground, his body cold and his mind racing.

“It’s alright,” he thinks he hear himself say. “We have a bit of time now; no one will find us here.” He shivers, though from the cold, and wraps his plaid around him.

God, he could still see it; Dougal’s lifeless eyes, the blood pooling out of him, the shock on Willie Coulter’s face. How long before everyone knew? How long before everyone found out he had committed familicide?

Jamie’s head falls forward onto his knees, a tiredness washing over him, fatigue clutching at his bones and eyelids. Tired as he was he could not sleep for fear of the images in his mind’s eye.

His breath comes out in ragged pants and he can barely stand the sound of it. He feels Claire’s warmth and presence beside him, uses it as something to anchor himself to.

What happened in that room and who knows wasn’t the priority, while Claire had yet to explicitly say so Jamie’s fate waited for him on Culloden Moor. Tomorrow he will die and all this will cease to matter. Claire will be safe.

His breathing eases back into its natural rhythm, the panic wilting away from the edges. He’ll take hold of Death’s hand, gladly accept his destiny knowing he did one thing right at last.

“I won’t go, Jamie,” she says, as if she’s read his thoughts. “I’m staying with you.”

Jamie shakes his head. She couldn’t persuade him, he couldn’t change his mind. He needed to do this.

“No,” he says. The firmness bites at him, makes him wince. He hopes she can hear the gentleness that lies beneath it. “I must go back, Claire.”

“You can’t,” she cries. “Jamie, they will have found Dougal by now! Willie Coulter will have told someone.”

Aye, that was a fact he had resigned himself to, a fact she must resign herself too as well. He grieved for Dougal, for the second father he had, but Jamie had done what he’d done- he would take whatever consequence waited for him behind that door. She talks of fleeing to France but it’s no use, he’s chosen his fate, set his heart and mind to it, accepted it. A traitor twice over, a rebel, a murderer…The English will hunt Prince Charles. The English and the clans will hunt Jamie. He was dead either way.

“Claire, I am a dead man.”

He watches the tears freeze on her cheeks. “No,” she says but the effect is lost, she knows he speaks the truth.

“I wouldna get very far anyway.” On its own accord, his hand runs through his red hair that makes him a beacon at all times. Not exactly inconspicuous. “I can save you, Claire,” With his other hand he brushes away the tears that continue to fall. “and I will. That is the most important thing.”

Then he will go back. If he finds he cannot do it for himself then he will find it in him to do so for his men.

“I think I can get them away,” he says thinking the plan through. “Even if it’s known what I’ve done, none will stop me wi’ the English in sight and the battle about to begin.” The plan visualises in his mind and he nods to himself. “I will bring them safely away and set them on the road toward Lallybroch.”

“And then?”

Well…wasn’t that obvious?

“And then I will turn back to Culloden.”

He lets out a breath, strong and final as his decision. He catches Claire’s worried look and gives her a smile.

“I’m no afraid to die, Sassenach,” he says, but then he thinks of that door, black and foreboding, the unknown behind it. “Well…not a lot, anyway.”

He hears a sound a human being should never be able to make as arms fling around him. He finds himself surrounded by Claire, caught in her tight embrace as the scent of her overwhelms him. He clutches her back, trying with all his might not to succumb and cry.

“It’s all right, Sassenach,” he says into her hair as she cries once more. “A musket ball. Maybe a blade. It will be over quickly.” A lie, they both know it, but Jamie will them both to believe it. He’s seen men die in battle, knows how horrifically slow it can be but it was better than waiting for the hangman’s noose, that would be the one thing that does not lie behind that door.

“I’m going with you.”

Lost in thought he barely registers it but when he does he reels at the notion, startling backwards.

“The hell you are!” He has a plan, damnit, and not even Claire will deter him from it.

She displays her argument but he will not listen to it, will not give it thought.

“No!” he says. “No, Claire!”

How could she suggest such a thing, knowing what they both knew? How could she be so selfish?

“If you’re not afraid, I’m not either. It will…be over quickly. You said so.”

You said so. What he said was a lie, did she not see that? A lie to comfort them both.

“Jamie- I won’t…I can’t…I bloody won’t live without you, that’s all!”

He had a thousand things to say and none at all. His mouth opens and closes before he shakes his head. Through the gaps in the ceiling he can see daylight dwindling, night approaching. The sky is painted red. Blood of a battlefield, blood of childbirth.

He reaches toward her, pulling her close. He knows where this fight comes from, if the tables were turned he would say the same thing, knows because he feels it too.

“D’ye think I don’t know?” His voice is soft, a whisper. “It’s me that has the easy part now. For if ye feel for me as I do for you- then I am asking you to tear your heart out and live without it.”

She lets out a whimper, clutching him closer. He fingers stroke her hair, whispering soft coos towards her.

“But you must do it,” he finally says, feeling his stomach twist and turn. “Ye must.”

“Why?” She is angry, considerably so. Confused and hurting. “When you took me from the witch trial at Cranesmuir- you said then you would have died with me, you would have gone to the stake with me had it come to that!”

He had said all that, and to this day, it remains true. He’d have rather died than to be parted with her.

“Aye, I would,” he says. “But I wasna carrying your child.”

The reason he is allowing them to part.

She is surprised, shocked, frozen in place as she looks up at him in bewilderment.

“You can’t tell,” she says at last, shaking her head. “It’s much too early.”

It makes him smile, brings amusement to him.

“You havena been a day late in your courses, in all the time since ye first book me to your bed. Ye havena bled now in forty-six days.”

She hurls insults at him, shocked he even managed to keep track of such a thing during a war but he had for hope they would have a second chance at raising a child and for fear that it would end like this.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” she tells him, rattling off reasons for why she might not have bled. It’s no use, she forgets he’s seen her so before, studied all the tell-tale signs of her body changing, committed them to memory.

“Claire…” His voice is quiet, not sounding like him. “Tomorrow I will die. This child…is all that will be left of me- ever.” He reaches for her hands, needing some part of her to hold. He casts his gaze to their joined hands, running his thumb over her fingers. “Claire, I beg you, see it safe.”

He keeps his eyes downcast while he waits for her answer, scared she’ll say yes, scared she’ll say no. The silence feels long and he shuts his eyes against the twisting of his stomach.

Finally her answer comes.

“Yes.” A whisper in the darkening cottage. “Yes. I’ll go.”

He nods, swallowing back the lump in his throat, hearing the sound of a flower stem snap.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

After telling her to sleep, she doesn’t sleep himself. Time seemed wasted on that and they didn’t have much of it left anymore. In a few hours he will take her to the fairy hill and part with her forever.

He wanted to rage at the unfairness of it all. To brandish his sword and yell and scream and cry but he knew there was no point to it. He knew that what he had been handed was more than fair, that not many men live the life he’s led and are allowed to be rewarded in such a way.

Lord, ye gave me a rare woman, he had said to her, quoting what he would say to God when he met him. God! I loved her well. He had, he could really say that. He took this woman, in all her unbated strangeness, into his broken hands and within her found company and peace, a place to call home.

She loved me well, too, he adds, watching her sleep for the last time. Content and safe, here in his arms and their fortress of cloth. He had healed him with her touch and love and perseverance. Picked a broken man off the floor and carried him through towards the light at the end of the tunnel no matter the setbacks. She really was a rare woman, his sassenach.

He wraps his arms tighter around her, murmurs a quick thank you in Gaelic to God and to the fairies for dropping her into his life.

Pressed against her, safe in their fortress of clothes, her skin warming his bones, his eyelids grow heavy and he succumbs to sleep as the first inklings of tomorrow break across the sky.

.:.:.:.:.:.

She was gone.

Disappeared in the same manner in which she had appeared. Gone through the stones and back to Frank.

Jamie presses his hand against the stone. The hard granite presses back on his wound, her mark, the letter C, reminding him it was real, she was real.

Her arisaid lies on the grass, forgotten in their haste to love each other one last time. Jamie picks it up, bringing it to his nose, inhaling her scent still lingering on the tartan. Tears fall on their own accord as he prays she made it back, prays that she and the bairn are safe.

A cannon in the distance booms, startling the birds and startling him. It’s beginning.

He is hesitant to move, to leave the place of their last coupling, his last connections to her.

Yet destiny waits for him on Culloden Moor, along with his men. He pictures the thirty men waiting for their laird.

There is nothing he can do for Claire now but there is something he can do for his men.

He kisses the inside of his fingers, presses it to the stone and bids his soulmate one last final goodbye.

[detectivecarlosreyes]

In Case of Emergency (Ch 10/10)

Ao3 | 2.9/21.4k | Buddie | Status: Complete

Prev. Chapter 

Chapter 10: What’s Next: The Epilogue  Eddie and Christopher have a plan to ask Buck to move in, Buck gets his closure and Chris goes to camp. Set in the end piece of 3x18: What's Next.

As with all the other micro steps they had taken in the relationship up until this point, each one had to be approved first by Chris, because Eddie never wanted to overstep his son’s comfort, and this was no different.

“Bud, would you be okay with me asking Buck to move in with us?”

“Isn’t he already living with us?”

“Kind of, I know he stays over a few nights a week at the moment, but this will be a little different. It’ll mean he won’t have his apartment anymore and will live with us all the time instead.”

With understanding now shining in his eyes, Christopher was on board with the idea immediately bouncing in his seat, “Ohhhhh, okay!”

“So that’s a yes? You’re okay with him moving in?”

“You asked me ages ago if it was okay if he could stay over sometimes. It will be better with him here all the time.” And then he added, as sassily as a 9-year-old could, “Besides, I like it when he’s here, Bucky is a better cook than you.”

“Oh, so we’re being cheeky now, are we?” Unable to let the slander stand he descended upon Chris with a grin and attacked him with tickles, leaving peals of laughter echoing throughout the house in its wake.

Eventually, when the giggles subsided, he told Chris his plan and left him with the important job to decorate the small cardboard box that he bought the other day that they would present Buck’s house key in and make it official.

Now he just had one more thing to do before everything was in place.

** ** ** ** ** ** **

In some ways, Buck had felt like he was still reeling from that moment he first saw Abby after all that time apart. Even now, it seemed as if after finally getting that long overdue sit down with her, that it didn’t seem like it was enough, maybe nothing they said ever would be.

Sure, he was glad to see her happy and had found herself again while she travelled, he could never begrudge her of that after the years she had with her mother. It just would have been nice to get some communication about where she was at wit the relationship. If she had been honest about it when she knew she wasn’t coming back anytime soon he would have been fine with it, because at least then he wouldn’t have felt so strung along, feeling like him waiting wasn’t enough, that he wasn’t worth coming back to.

The fact that though she was sorry for the way he found out about it all, she didn’t actually apologise for how their relationship ended; or more specifically by not actually explicitly giving him the courtesy of breaking up with him. Despite not wanting to harbour any grudges over it he knows it will probably always leave a bitterness to the relationship.

It wasn’t until after he walked away, leaving her on the park bench did he realise why the conversation left him lacking. His part in the relationship was never an important factor to her, not once in her explanation did she seem to consider what she did would affect anyone else but herself. And really, that was the crux of the relationship, it had revolved around her and her needs leaving the relationship unbalanced.

Eddie was right though. Seeing her again, getting that closure, it was something that he needed to finally tie up that frayed, loose end and allowed him to close the book on the chapter in his life once and for all, no longer questioning what went wrong.

It made him realise how lucky he was now. Having found himself in the best relationship he’s ever been in. One that left him and Eddie as equals borne out of mutual love and respect of one another that didn’t leave one more important than the other. They were partners in more ways than one, feeding off each other and becoming each other’s anchors.

As he walked away with Eddie on his mind as he left, he sent him a quick text saying he was going to stop at their favourite bakery and picking up their usual on his way home.

When he finally pulled into the driveway, Buck breathed a sigh of relief, happy to put the day behind him and just be with Chris and Eddie. Getting out of the car, with the bag of freshly baked goods in one hand and his keys in the other he makes his way to the door, fumbling to find the house key only to find it missing.

With a frown he knocked on the door, feeling silly not having his key on him. Eddie was quick to answer looking almost bemused by the circumstance and opened the door wide. Stepping inside, he touched a kiss to Eddie’s cheek as he passed.

“I think I lost my key? But I swear I had it yesterday, I-I can’t imagine how it could have fallen off the key ring.” He offered the explanation as to why he was knocking on the door, something he hadn’t done in some time.

“Don’t worry about it, we can just get another one cut,” Eddie responded lightly and Buck could hear Eddie’s footsteps following him after closing the door, trailing him to the kitchen.

“How did it go?” Eddie asked him gently, changing the subject as he placed his hand over his own still holding the bag of baked goods that he sat on the kitchen bench.  

He sighed another relieved sigh before smiling at him, comforted by his tact, “You were right. It didn’t go exactly how I thought it would, but I’m glad I saw her, I needed the closure.”

“That’s good, I’m glad you got what you needed.”

Before he could elaborate more on what else he realised from his meeting with Abby, the clatter of crutches interrupted them and Chris all but crashed into his side, wrapping his arms around his hips.

“Buck! You’re back!” Gasped Chris before turning to his dad excitedly, “Can we give it to him now?”

Buck looked between Chris and Eddie quizzically and only became more confused upon seeing Eddi’s face light up, seemingly unable to deny his son’s request. “Alright, we can give it to him now. Why don’t you go get it.”

“Okay!” And then he was gone, moving as swiftly as his crutches would allow back in the direction of his room.

He turned back to Eddie, feeling very much out of the loop, “Eddie? Mind telling me what’s going on?”

Annoyingly all the response he got in return was Eddie’s smiling eyes and him saying that he would just have to wait and see. Buck rolled his eyes and shook his head in amusement at Eddie’s answer but held his tongue in favour of waiting for whatever he was told wait for.

He didn’t have to wait long, with Chris re-entering the room at a hurried pace carrying a small blue box. Buck watched as Chris slowed to a stop in front of Eddie to which Eddie, bent over and whispered something in his son’s ear.

He knelt down when Chris turned back to him, much like when Chris gave him that card at his welcome back party at Athena and Bobby’s all those months ago.

“What’s that you got there, bud?”  

Chris just grinned his excitable goofy grin that Buck loves with all his heart and held out the box to him. Buck looked between Chris and the box outstretched in his grasp and took it delicately. Upon closer inspection of the box Chris had just handed him, Buck realised that it wasn’t just blue. It had been hand decorated with a blue marker around the sides, with the drawing of a house adorned on the lid.

With a sharp look between the two Diaz’s, he lifted the lid on the box to find a key resting on a pillow of white crepe paper that he knew was leftover from one of Chris’s class projects that he helped to construct. His key. The one that Chris insisted that they paint the thumb end of, so everyone knew whose key it was, was the same blue as the ring that he had attached to Eddie’s key to his own apartment.

“This is my key. I thought I lost it. What are you two up to?” He asked even though he was already putting the clues together, but he wanted a verbal confirmation of what this gift represented.

“Did you want to ask him Chris?” Eddie asked, moving to stand behind his son with his hands resting atop his shoulders, clearly as excited as Chris was about what was about to be asked.

“Bucky, will you move in with us? O-officially.”

Buck couldn’t stop the sting of happy tears prick at his eyes or keep the wide grin that threatened to split his face. “It would be my honour to move in with you.”

Opening his arms wide, he invited Chris for a hug who instantly fell into his chest wholeheartedly. Looking up over his head, Buck looked at Eddie’s glowing face and reached around Chris to take hold of his wrist to drag him down and make the hug and them complete.

** ** ** ** ** ** **

Waking up the next morning, Buck revelled in the domesticity of the moment, sharing the bed with the man that he loves; In the place that he could confidently call home without any further hesitation even though in his mind he’d been calling it that for some time. Everything was perfect and felt so, so right. He knew that nothing had really changed considering that he had been practically living in the Diaz household but it felt different, there was a permanence to it now.

He watched as Eddie slumbered, a much more peaceful and restful version of the man than what he used to be when they first started sleeping in the same bed, no longer on high alert on their days off. Now, Eddie woke sluggishly uninhibited by expectation, knowing that there was no hurry to awaken while Buck was present beside him.

At some point, they left the comforts of the bed and migrated to the kitchen, where Chris would join them from the living room have been watching tv while he waited for them to wake. In the kitchen, he would begin preparing them a cooked breakfast, a common occurrence for when they have the luxury of having a morning together while Eddie moved around him to make the coffee.

With May’s graduation party in the afternoon, they eventually got dressed, doing their best not to dress too similarly but still end up deciding on the same colour scheme. And then, as with the last few gatherings they had been to, the three of them arrived together at the Grant-Nash household in Eddie’s truck.

And with that happiness that came with the day before, Buck found him celebrating and being even more affectionate and open than usual, riding on the excitable energy of everyone around him. Through it all he did eventually find himself seeking out Bobby, remembering what he said on the train and didn’t get the chance to address it in his office after the fact.

With the din of the music at their backs, he joined Bobby on the deck, hands in his pockets, “Hey, um, I just wanted to apologise, f- for the train.”

Bobby just waved away the apology with a shake of his head, “Look it’s alright, we both got a little hot. You doing okay?”

A grin took over at his face as he turned to Bobby, thinking about the previous day, “Yeah, I think I am.”

“Good.”

With his thoughts on Eddie and Chris, he corrected himself, “Actually, you know what? I know I am. I’m moving in with Eddie and Chris, they just asked me yesterday.”

“That’s great news Buck,” with that, Bobby offered his hand in congratulations before pulling him in for a hug. Buck sunk into it finding a parental comfort in the embrace and feeling like everything in his life was finally falling into place.  

** ** ** ** ** ** **

And so, with him now living with Diaz pair, it was time for him to start the process of ending the lease to his apartment. He had a month to pack his things and sell what furniture he would no longer need, which was most if not all of it.

Boxes were gradually transported between the two locations with Chris helping with the packing and unpacking of the small bits and pieces that he had which decorated the apartment. Chris became the deciding force of what he should keep, even if he didn’t think he needed to keep them and helped find a home for them in the house, wanting to make the space his as much as theirs.

They only had a couple of weeks with him though, before he set out for the long-awaited camp, leaving a card with the two of them as they saw him off, decorated in hearts and stating simply:

You are going to have a Great Time.

Love, Christopher.

Eventually, through their days off, they had the last of his clothes packed in a bag and the last box was sealed, with the last of the bigger items from the bedroom finally sold and ready to be picked up by the buyers in the following days.

“I can’t believe this is it,” Buck said, sitting on the floor of the now empty apartment, Eddie sitting across from him finishing sealing the box, having let himself into the apartment like always only a couple of hours ago with a new roll of packing tape.

With the box sealed, Eddie propped his elbow up on the box before him, resting his face in his hand with a soft smirk playing on his lips, “Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts.”

“Absolutely not. Never in a million years.” He breathed, finding himself staring love-struck into Eddie’s eyes. They sit like that for longer than was necessary, faces only a couple inches apart and bodies separated by the box between them.

Eventually, he broke the silence huffing a chuckle to himself, reminded of something Eddie once said.

“What?” Eddie asked good naturedly, a laugh bubbling on the words as he spoke.

Buck propped his head upon his hand, mirroring Eddie, “Are my eyes twinkling like the stars, Eds? Cause yours right now are shining like the sun, they do that when you’re happy, did you know?”

“Oh my god!” Groaned Eddie, burying his face in his hands in embarrassment, “That was so long ago, Buck! I can’t believe I said that, and honestly, I had I hoped you wouldn’t remember.”  

“How could I forget!” Buck quietly exclaimed, bemused by the flush creeping up Eddie’s neck and warming his face, “You were far too cute saying whatever you were thinking, Mr astronaut. I’m surprised that you remember though, you were still so far gone at that point.”

“Don’t remind me, that was still the weirdest hangover I’ve ever woken up to. Not to mention the fact that you not only took off my boots for me, but you also plugged in my phone, set an alarm and left a message explaining what happened.”

“I didn’t think you’d want to sleep the day away or wake up confused, let alone do it all while still wearing your boots in bed!”

“Even back then when I was just your friend from work, you cared that much,” Eddie mused, wonder in his eyes.

Buck shrugged bashfully, “I just did what anyone one would do.”

“The fact that you think that--” Eddie shook his head, “The way you care about people is just one of the things I love most about you.”

Eddie groaned as he stood up, stretching his legs before stepping around the box and reached down to him, “Now, come on, it’s time we finished up here and take these boxes home.”

With a soft smile on his lips, Buck placed his hands in Eddie’s and let him haul him to his feet. They took the last of the boxes home, leaving the apartment completely empty, and unpacked them, and 3 days later they were dropping their apartment keys off at the realtor, making it well and truly final.  

It was strange to think that all that time ago when they first gave each other their key that they would end up here. Using them rarely for that intended reason of it being an emergency key before their use quickly evolved into something more intimate. That the key to their home was no longer used for emergencies but became an extension to their hearts instead.

*

*

*

And to think that Buck marked the day that the Diaz’s asked him to move in and mirrored it exactly a year later using a similar box that they presented the key in, having re-commissioned Christopher to reprise his role of decorating another one. except this time, it didn’t have a key but a very special ring instead.

Buck barely got the question out before Eddie was already saying yes.

[raziroo]

Chapter Four | I Take A Liking To Lilac All Of A Sudden

Pairing: Lotor x Reader (There you go)

Genre: Angst? I don't knowww

Warnings: Mentions of cancer, mild swearing

Word Count: 1,676

Author’s Note: This is kind of a filler? I can't write long shit in one sitting, so. It's important to reader and lotor's relationship, tho.

‘Good luck. Come back alive, all of you, alright?’ I asked, my eyes roving over the three people standing before me – Matt, Pidge, and Shiro. ‘It’s, like, one of the simplest things you could do. You give Lotor, you get Mr. Holt. Simple. Very simple and easily doable. Right?’ My gaze dragged over all of them once more as I picked at my nails nervously. As much as I was aware of the fact that this trade wasn’t simple and easily doable, I knew that I would legitimately have a nervous breakdown if I didn’t spew lies through my teeth.

Shiro smiled at me lightly. ‘Of course. I’ll make sure nothing goes wrong. You guys take care too.’

‘If, however, anything happens,’ Allura chided, ‘the other lions will arrive as soon as possible.’

‘Yeah,’ Pidge said with a wry smirk, ‘so try not to pass out.’

‘Okay,’ I nodded my head rapidly, ‘yeah, okay, I – I can do that.’

‘Good. Well, we’ll get going then,’ Shiro announced, and turned around, the others following him.

Hopefully, all would go well.

. . . . .

You know what? Everything actually went relatively well. Yes, my hunch turned out to be correct and Zarkon chose to go through with the ‘I was lying all along! Bwahahaha!’ route and ended up getting himself killed at the hands of his son, but overall, I’d say it was a win-win, seeing that we got Pidge’s father back (thank God, who knows what havoc she’d wreak if we ended up not getting Sam back) and the evil maniacal tyrant who’d been ruling over the universe for ten thousand years died.

The one downside was that now there needed to be a new Emperor, because following Zarkon’s death, not only the Galra empire, but simultaneously the entire universe had gone into a state of chaos too. There was no doubt that underlings and generals would try to take over smaller parts of the empire, and once that happened, Voltron being able to do anything would be a stretch.

And, according to Lotor, a ceremony to crown the new emperor, the Kral Zera, would now be taking place. Once he said that, he really didn’t need to say more – it was obvious what his implications were. A new emperor was to be crowned, and if Voltron was to achieve peace, Lotor would have to go and secure the throne. It was a sensible thought to be had, no problem. The thing was, to reach the Kral Zera, which was taking place in two days, in itself was a decision to be taken with utmost thought. The Paladins just didn’t have enough time to decide.

On the one hand, Shiro and Lotor were adamant that the latter be crowned emperor; the other Paladins, however, were justifiably hesitant. I had been standing there listening to them going back and forth, not saying a word myself, like always.

To be honest, I just wanted to go sleep. For some reason, I’d been feeling overly anxious these past few days. White was still not responding to me, I was having regular dreams about the day I woke up here. It was always that one day, that first conversation I had with Shiro. It was as if my subconsciousness too wanted me to reach out to Shiro because there was clearly something weird going on with him.

My suspicions only solidified when I heard Shiro’s voice boom through the room. My head snapped up. Lance with a look of shock and the slightest bit of fear on his face, Shiro’s visage twisted with uncharacteristic anger.

‘Shiro. I think you should just relax a little.’ The man turned to me, brows pinched.

‘I am relaxed -’

‘No, I really think you aren’t… so, like… take it easy, yeah?’ I asked, jumping my eyebrows, arms still folded in front of me, maintaining a calm yet defensive posture. I could feel the entire room’s gazes on me. After all, I almost never spoke in such discussions, or any discussions, really, and indirectly opposing Shiro, of all people, was way too brave a thing for me to do.

Shiro looked at me with slight disbelief, a glint in his eye challenging me to speak up. ‘You want me to take it easy? Take it easy? The fate of the universe depends on this, taking it easy is really not an option right now. I’ve put my foot down – as the Leader of Voltron, I’ve taken this decision. You aren’t someone befitted to oppose me.’

Ok, wow. Everyone shared the same opinion apparently, as now the silence seemed piercing. Clicking my tongue, I tilted my head. ‘Well, maybe not as a Paladin, which I’m not, or a member of the coalition. But as a friend, Shiro, you’ve been acting strange. Everyone realises this. You realise this. … Maybe, I don’t know… maybe all this reflecting on you’ve been doing, maybe the role of leader is taking a toll on you? I, heh,’ I chuckle, ‘I really am not sure. But you’re not relaxed, and you’re not acting yourself.’

‘Could you please not tell me how to be a Paladin?’

‘While you all waste time squabbling, sinister forces are conspiring to fill the Galra power void. If I don’t return to claim the throne, there’s no telling who will.’

Does being royalty instantly make you a hundred times more dramatic? Sinister forces? Deadass?

I walked out.

. . . . .

Shiro went behind our back.

Yeah.

Acting like a complete bitch, he took Lotor to the Kral Zera, where, for your information, he could’ve been blown up. By Keith.

I wanted to deck Shiro. Instead, I visited White. I had hopes she’d respond to me, since I’d been brave and spoken my mind. I prayed on all the Gods and Deities above that my expectations became reality.

Yeah, they didn’t. She didn’t budge. The whole entire two goddamned hours I sat in front of White, she ignored me. Frustrated, I ended up punching her, resulting in bleeding knuckles. Lotor saw that, by the way. He seemed to always be keeping an eye on White, regardless of me being there or not, which I admit is a little strange, but I wasn’t judging. These aliens seemed to worship the Lions.

Lotor also invited us to the Galra headquarters, and lord oh my lord, was it fancy. Allura had gone off to do research with Lotor (I’d been about to make a joke about what “research” those two were really about to do, if you catch my drift, but then I saw Lance looking at the pair glumly, and thought better of it. I’d lightly punched Lance on the shoulder, and raised my eyebrows so as to say ‘They’re gorgeous aliens who could give Bella Hadid and Harry Styles a run for their money, it can’t be helped.’ He laughed.) I accompanied Hunk, Lance and Pidge in their shenanigans for a while, but ended up wandering around the place.

Space was beautiful. Even through a window, I wanted to just stare at it for as long as I could, enjoying a show more realistic than ever before. It was really similar to all the Marvel movies I’d watched; I felt a weird sense of pride at that realization. I remembered how I’d cried at the end of Infinity War, my friends clinging to me and bawling as well; how loud I’d squealed at an absolutely steamy piece of Kakashi fanart Cory had drawn; how happy I’d been when Sasha, my neighbour and childhood friend, had come out victorious after battling cancer for years.

I hadn’t realized when the tears had started slipping down my cheeks. I wiped at them, but they wouldn’t go. Sniffling and wiping so furiously my skin would get burned when I heard footsteps, I turned to see Lotor approaching me.

‘Hey -’ shit, my voice was so thick. Clearing my throat obnoxiously loud, I greeted him again. ‘Hey, uh… what… how’s yours and Allura’s research going?’

‘The research has been going quite smoothly.’

‘Hmm. Nice.’

Lotor was staring – no, correction - scrutinising me. I could feel it, his intense as hell eyes burning into the side of my face. I wasn’t going to give up, though. I stared at the window with as much concentration as he me.

He was the first to speak up. Ha.

‘You’re not of the Paladins.’

‘Really? I didn’t know, thanks,’ I still wasn’t looking at him.

‘Deepest apologies if I offended you -’

‘You didn’t, it’s okay.’

‘…’

‘…’

‘…If you wish to answer, why do you appear… distant, compared to the other Paladins? You say they are your friends, but there’s such scarce interaction… you seem acquaintances at best.’

‘… They are my friends. I like to think so, because, well… because I don’t have anyone to go back home to.’

‘Oh. My apologies, I didn’t mean to pry.’

‘You didn’t pry, chill. It’s not that my family’s dead or anything, it’s just that… no, well, my family is dead, but… like, they’ve been dead for around three hundred or so years…?’ I turned to Lotor, brows furrowed. He looked less confused than me.

‘Sorry, no, that’s – that’s shit explanation, um… you could say… I… I’ve lived past my time. I’m alive when I’m not supposed to be.’

I didn’t explicitly mention, as you can see, that I was a time traveller, because I wasn’t really one with that fact yet. I’d accepted it, yes, but that didn’t mean I was comfortable with it. It was still a foreign truth, something I didn’t take great joy in talking or thinking about.

When I turned to Lotor, I felt like he’d understood what he needed to already.

It was bizarre. A lilac alien was the last person I would expect to understand me so easily, but it was what it was.