#but it's so early on that you might be somewhat inclined to fall for it. and there is some level of truth to him saying

[corfisers]

love when he just Lies

[starlight-writer]

Tummy

Warnings: none, fluff, talk of insecurities, slight angst

Gn reader

An: I have returned and gayer than ever Masterlist

Steven

Steven’s always been slightly insecure

His hair was always too messy, his tend to ramble was embarrassing, and his hobbies and interests were too nerdy

And all of that was magnified when you started dating

He always thought ‘maybe this is what makes them leave me’ whenever he saw or did something he didn’t like about himself

The one thing he always liked about himself was that he was always somewhat muscular

He had decently toned abs and a respectively hard chest

So when he found he started growing a tummy, he was certain you would leave him

He started trying to hide it the best he could, hoping he could delay the imagined inevitable

He wore darker colors, cut back on the snacks he was eating, and started walking in the early morning

But nothing really worked

And he was noticeably upset about it

Ask him about it if he’s still upset after a few days

He’ll try to pretend it’s Donna being a bitch

Key word: try

He could never lie to you and keep with it

He would feel so guilty, he could never forgive himself for hiding anything from you

Sit him down and talk through his concern

Give him a kiss whenever he starts stuttering or trying to shy away from you

When he explains is worries, hug him

Hug him like his life depends on it

Tell him you love him and all his quirks and hobbies

And his tummy

Explain to him that having a bit of fat on his stomach or some extra pounds is ok

He knows it’s ok, he’d never insult someone for how they look or weight, but he needs to know it’s ok for him

He needs to know the things that make him who he is, you love every single one

He might start crying, so give him a kiss the top of his head

And tell him he’s beautiful

Every relationship he’s had has ended in flames, but he genuinely, wholeheartedly thinks that all of those failed relationships has led him straight to you

And he couldn’t be more ecstatic to have a domestic future with you

Marc

Marc already doesn’t like himself

He hates himself, actually

He sees himself as a terrible, dangerous person that doesn’t deserve happiness or love

So when he starts dating you, he doesn’t know if he should be proud or sad about it

What if you’re only dating him because you’re dating Steven and Jake?

What if you’re only with him out of pity of his sad, depressing life?

He’s always looking out for the day you fall out of love with him or reveal you never loved him

And it keeps him up at night

And then he found his tummy

Normally, he wouldn’t be upset by this

He knows weight gain is normal and as you grow and your environment changes, it can effect the way your body processes food and works

But he can’t help but feel so sad about it

What if this is the straw that breaks the camels back and you leave him?

He couldn’t handle that

He loves you with his entire being, how could he go back to living a life without you?

Marc isn’t good at hiding his emotions so you pick up on his shift in mood immediately

Ask him what’s wrong as soon as you notice he’s upset

He won’t be inclined to talking about it, he’s not used to it, but he’ll know you’re worried and that’ll help

Eventually, he’ll go to you on his own, so just be patient and occasionally remind him you’re here for him

When he does talk to you about his insecurities, he’s gonna avoid looking at you

Hold his hand and wait for him to finish

Maybe rub his back or place a hand on his knee, but don’t say anything

When he’s done, give him a 

“Baby, it just means you’re happy, healthy, and being taken care of”

Oh

He’s gonna cry cause he knows you’re right

He is happy and healthy because how could he not be?

He’s with you

Give his nose a kiss and hold his face

Squish his cheeks and he’ll smile and hold your hands to his face

He’ll give them a kiss before pulling you into the tightest hug

To make him feel a little better, poke at his sides and tickle him

He’ll start laughing and tackle you to the couch, rolling around in pure happiness

After Layla, he didn’t think he could be with anyone again

His life was too dangerous and he thought he didn’t deserve anyone

He didn’t want to ruin someone else’s life, his was already depressing and full of death, what kind of man would he be to subject someone he loved to that kind of life?

But then he found you and you changed his entire world view

And by god he’s never letting you go

If he had the chance to redo anything in his life, he’s comfortable saying he wouldn’t change a thing

Because it all led to you

Jake

Jake takes pride in his appearance

He always makes sure his hair looks good before and after he has his cap on

His suit is always well taken care of, never folded or hung up without the proper covering

And now that he lives in a stable home with you, he has a skin care routine

And while Jake knows having some tummy and fat on your bones doesn’t mean you’re out of shape or not fit, having that extra meat on his bones is not how he sees himself as fit

He tries everything to work off his tummy, but it persists

And he’s so genuinely upset

He kinda pulls away from the relationship, unintentionally, but it happens

He focuses on why he can’t lose the few extra pounds he gained and solely on that, momentarily abandoning your relationship

When you confront him about it, it’s after you’ve realized why he’s upset

You caught him in the mirror frowning at himself and poking his stomach

It broke your heart

You’ll confront him about in the the morning while you two still lay in bed

“Jake?”

He’ll hum in acknowledgment but keep his eyes closed

“I love you.” “Te amo, mi amor.”

“Jake?” “Hm?” “I love you.” “Yo también te amo, cariño.”

“Jake.” You’ll cup his cheek. “I love you.”

Jake will open his eyes, slightly concerned

Why’d you say it so... heavy?

Like you meant something behind it

“Cariño?” “I love. You. All of you.”

Oh

Ow

His heart

He’ll smile and place a hand over yours, only moving it to place a kiss on your palm

“Thank you, mi amor.”

Later in the day, tell him he still looks as hot as ever, if not more and he’ll kiss you passionately

He’s never been in a relationship, at least not a romantic one, so this relationship means the entire world to him and you being there for him, comforting him over his anxieties is something he would never let go

It feels so domestic and he could tear up at the thought of having a future with you

Te amo, mi amor - I love you, my love

Yo también te amo, cariño - I love you too, honey

Cariño - Honey

Mi amor - my love

[multidimensionalguidance]

💎🪞Venus Observations #3 🪞💎

I’ve previously made other posts related to Venus in close aspects to Neptune and Ketu/South Node, so I feel inclined to discussing the effects of this planet interacting with Rahu/North Node.

It is important to keep in mind that if Venus is being aspected by Ketu/South Node, then Rahu/North Node will also be involved but the effects are definitely distinct from each other. Specifically if its a conjunction/opposition.

Rahu/North Node represents what our soul wants to develop further in this lifetime. The house and sign will be one the themes that you naturally feel driven towards in an almost obsessive way, and you will be very much aware of this. The nature of this “shadow planet” is to create a laser focus on your life, regardless of what path you try to take, Rahu/North Node will ensure you can’t ignore it.

Individuals with planets conjunct Rahu/North Node will be in a way eclipse or swallowed by the “head of the dragon” and display an almost uncontrollable growth in the themes represented by the planet, since it likes to exacerbate everything it touches. Meaning, if you have this point touching Mars your drive will be immense, as well as your sexual desires, conflicts, impulsiveness, ambition, etc.

When Venus comes into the play you will also notice how regardless of what you do, it seems impossible to get your head to stop obsessing with topics of love, beauty, art, pleasure, and everything that relates to this planet.

I’ve noticed these individuals tend to have an almost physical need to create and have no shame to put themselves out there, or to pursue this desire. In fact, they need it in order to release their emotions and it will function as a way to alleviate, soothe, and express themselves.

If they don’t come from a family that’s wealthy, they will find themselves attracting wealth quite easily, as Rahu/North Node will ensure you obtain material success since it has a focus on what you must achieve in this earthly plane. Actually, it will make it almost impossible for you to not focus entirely on this unless you have A LOT of earth energy or Saturn aspects.

They fall in love hard, and almost obsessively. They will also attract lovers who will feel this way as well. Since Ketu/South Node creates the need to detach and let go, it is Rahu/North node’s duty to cause the entirely opposite effect. Relationships may also play an important factor or have an impact when it comes to your wealth as well.

They also struggle with seeing the faults in their loved ones to a point where it’s detrimental to their health. Rahu/North Node creates a hunger that feels almost impossible to satisfy, or at least until they pour all that energy into themselves and their art. It can also be easy for them to click with other individuals who have Rahu/North Node aspects, as they feel deeply understood and accepted.

Rahu/North Node also rules the internet and social media, so it will be easy for them to gain a lot of followers or people who want to keep up with what they are doing. This energy is intense and difficult to control until Venus matures (around 25 years old) and Rahu/North Node (42 years old) as well. It is common for the native to be a serial dater during their early life due to their lack of satisfaction and impulsive nature. Pretty much a “zero thoughts, only vibes” and “I’m all in” type of energy until the native grows weary of repeating the same cycles.

They might even reach a point of wanting to detach from everything related to Venus, but even when they do try, life will keep throwing them into complicated situations that will force them to grow and somewhat stabilize this energy with the help of Ketu/South Node.

It is important to keep in mind that, this axis exists so we can find a balance between the skills we’ve already developed in a past life, and the ones that are meant to be mastered in this one. Leaning too much in one or the other will keep on bringing difficulties until acceptance is reached. Life is like the ocean tides, and learning to flow with it all makes the journey much easier.

[lizcameron]

Part of His World | Part Two

Pairing: JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summary: Y/n was just trying to get out of town, running from her family and her past. When her dirt bike breaks down in Kildare, JJ Maybank swoops in to help her. Forced to stick around for a while, Y/n begins to fall in love with JJ and his tight-knit family of outcasts. The longer she stays, the harder it becomes to leave OBX as she knows she must.

Word Count: 1707

Warning(s): slight angst

Entering the chateau to a crowd of friendly strangers who all jumped up to greet you and JJ upon your arrival had been almost overwhelming but somewhat warming.

JJ had vaguely introduced you as the door swung shut. “This is my new friend, Y/N. She’s just passing through town.”

John B. had given you a genuine smile and light side-hug. “Welcome to my humble abode. We’re just about to hit the water,” he’d said.

Sarah had pulled you into a long, tight embrace. “It’s so lovely to meet you. It’ll be nice to have another girl along for the day,” she squealed, a glint of something in her eye as she looked at JJ after releasing you.

Kiara was less friendly than the others. She waved two fingers at you from across the room with what looked like a forced smile. She looked just as wary as you felt.

Pope extended a hand toward you, which you gladly took, much preferring this formal greeting to those from the more tactilely-inclined. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Pope. Any friend of JJ’s is a friend of ours,” he offered.

Now you sat on the bow of the HMS Pogue as JJ and his friends all sipped beers. Sarah and Kie had their feet in the water, and John B. and Pope were casting fishing lines off the other side of the boat. JJ sat several feet away from you just enjoying the conversation. You had been listening to stories of their adventures, learning a bit more about each of them personally.

From what you gathered, they were all orphaned in some way or another. Pope, Kie, and Sarah had each had a falling out with their families and adopted this group as their only family. John B. was actually orphaned, and JJ had been abandoned by both parents, each in their own turn.

JJ had looked down at his hands sullenly after sharing that bit of his history since everyone else was practically offering their entire life story. You stared at his profile, your soul reaching out just barely to this boy who just might understand you if you could ever let anyone in. When JJ felt your stare he looked up, flashing you a smile, and you quickly turned away.

JJ seemed to be the type of person who made friends easily, and judging by the stories his friends had been relaying to you, he also loved unconditionally and protected fiercely. You almost remembered what that was like, but the last person you thought truly cared for you had walked out your front door eight months ago and hadn’t been heard from since.

A loud splash brought you back to the present. You looked over to see the last of the others jumping into the water. JJ removed his shirt before reaching a hand out to you.

“C’mon. It’s blazing out here. Let’s cool off,” he proposed. You couldn’t help but smile at the giggles and playful shouts coming from the water. You slipped off your shoes, took JJ’s hand, and followed him off the edge of the boat.

After swimming for a while and laying out on the boat to dry, the group returned to the dock to clean the fish the boys had caught and grill an early dinner. As soon as the Pogue had docked, everyone went their separate ways to fulfill their respective duties in preparing for dinner. You stayed behind with JJ as he ensured the boat was clean before he left it. The group of friends seemed to have a nice routine, as if they spent days all together like this all the time. You longed for that sense of belonging.

“Do all the others live here together?” you asked casually.

“Nah, just JB and Sarah. Pope and Kie are roommates at the only decent apartment complex on The Cut, and I live alone. The Chateau has just always been our gathering place,” JJ explained.

He gave you a hand up onto the dock and began loading your arms with gear before grabbing his own haul. “You got it?” he asked, and you nodded. 

Just as he stacked the last tackle under your chin, you dropped a pole. As you reached to catch it with your foot so it wouldn’t fall into the water, you lost your footing on an uneven board. You fell backward into the water, all the gear you were carrying toppling over onto the dock and some in the water with you.

“Oh shit,” JJ exclaimed as he leapt into the water to help you chuck the floating items onto the dock two feet above your head. Once everything was retrieved, JJ swam to you.

“Y/N, are you okay?” JJ asked, a little panic in his voice.

You began to laugh, and JJ joined in with you. The two of you were unable to stop for a couple of minutes before the laughter subsided. When you were finally able to catch your breath, JJ reached out to you, fingering something in your hair.

“Here, you’ve got a weed in your hair,” he says, pulling it out. His fingers brush your cheek as he pulled away, and you gave a small gasp. Your eyes locked on his, and his gaze was an intense ocean blue, holding you captive for a moment. JJ’s hand reached back up to touch your cheek just as the trance was broken.

“You guys finished messin’ around? Grill is hot,” Kiara barked out before storming back up the dock.

After a very delicious dinner of grilled fish, corn, and potatoes, you followed Sarah inside to help with the dishes. You dried while she washed and told you where everything went. Halfway through the job and some small talk, Sarah decided to try to break through your mystery.

“So what’s your story, Y/N? JJ said you’re just passing through?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m headed for the mainland. JJ just happened to be driving by when my dirt bike broke down. He patched it up for me,” you explained.

She smirked, thinking of the chances JJ would happen upon a damsel on a dirt bike. “Oh, you’re just vacationing down here?”

“No, I’m from the OBX. There’s just nothing left for me here, and I’ve never left the island,” you trailed off.

Sarah gave a concerned look. “Where’s your family? Surely you’ll come back to visit them,” she presumed.

You shook your head, contemplating how much to share. After a moment of silence, you figured there was no point to your secrecy. You’d never see Sarah again, and it was nice to have someone to confide in for once.

“My mom died six years ago. My dad is,” you paused, trying to think of a mild way to put it. “Completely different, I guess. It was kind of my older brother and I against the world until he left almost a year ago. I can’t stay here taking care of that… drunken idiot anymore. I’m leaving for myself,” you spewed.

Sarah was quiet for a long minute. Your cheeks began to burn from your embarrassment. Nobody was interested in your sob story. You should have made up another lie.

“You know,” Sarah began, pulling you from your self-deprecating thoughts. “Your past is not unlike JJ’s. His family is complicated too; all of ours are. Maybe there’s a reason it was JJ who happened to find you,” she suggested.

You snickered, pretending to be oblivious to what she was insinuating. “Yeah, I’d probably still be tinkering with that bike or walking by now,” you uttered with an unconvincing laugh.

Just then, JJ appeared in the entrance of the kitchen. “Ya’ ready to head back, Y/N? Be dark soon,” he said, pointing a thumb behind him toward the door.

On the way back to JJ’s house, you slid some money into his cup holder since he insisted you didn’t need to pay him for his help.

“It took all of three minutes, and I already have the oil,” he’d said resolutely.

Now in the little shop behind his house, he topped off the oil in the crankcase of your dirt bike. He took a few steps toward you as he wiped his hands on a shop rag before setting it down on the workbench you were leaning on.

“Thanks for spending the day with us. It was nice to have someone new tag along,” JJ said, stalling for time, not wanting to be out of your company just yet.

You held up your hands in gratitude. “Thank you for everything - the bike, dinner, a great day. It felt so nice to be carefree for a while. Your friends are great,” you mused. “I really should be going, though. Can you point me in the direction of the ferry terminal? This detour has me a little turned around,” you admitted.

JJ glanced at the clock on the wall. “Sure but the last ferry left an hour ago. There’s not another one until 7 in the morning,” he said.

You closed your eyes and clenched your fist, whispering, “Fuck.”

Your mind raced a mile a minute. It’d be okay, right? You’d been gone all day. You were 50 miles away. There’s no way your dad would find you in the backwoods of Kildare. You could camp out and hop on the first ferry out of there.

JJ sensed your panic and placed a hand on your shoulder, pulling you from your despair. “Hey, relax. Why don’t you stay here tonight? You can thank me by having breakfast with me in the morning, then I’ll drop you off at the ferry as early as you want,” he offered.

You visibly relaxed as you looked into those ocean eyes. JJ was right. What was a few more hours? It was entirely possible that your dad didn’t care enough to look for you anyway.

“You’re sure I’m not imposing?” you ask cautiously.

JJ smirked. “I would not pass up a chance to have you in my bed,” he joked, laughing when your eyes went wide. “C’mon, I’ll take the floor,” he said as he pulled you along by the hand, electricity shooting up your arm at his touch.

@obaex @pankowperfection

[patricide1885]

I'm starting to suspect that my guilt/shame might be fake/forced emotions.

So I have a big guilt and shame complex, right? And for a long time I had a vague sense that I felt those emotions because I'm "supposed to" feel those emotions and God or the secret entity behind the universe demands that of me, and it felt like if I didn't to some extent I wouldn't be metaphysically safe because I'd be a "bad" person/there is some other unknown reason I'm not smart enough to be aware of consciously. Or like I needed to feel bad in order to be forgiven. But it wasn't a fully formed thought and it felt overpoweringly irrational.

Today I snuck out of work early and usually I'd feel very guilty about that, and I did somewhat. But I'm also sleep deprived so I'm kind of tired, and wallowing in guilt, shame, and self hatred take mental energy to do. I still felt the impulse to feel guilty, but I was less inclined to give into it due to the sleepiness and the more recent unconscious realization that I don't actually have to ruminate and I can focus on the enternal world to shut down my default mode network through the activating of the central executive/dorsal attention network and that is becoming my go-to response.

It hit me that I do feel like I'm supposed to be guilty/feel shame. The reason being, that if I don't force myself to, I simply won't feel guilt or shame to begin with (or I can't trust myself to) due to my ADHD and the fact that I'll get distracted/I don't actually care in the first place.

You know those little ADHD kids where, say, they don't want to go to school, they have to go anyway, they unrelatedly have some kind of outburst that gets them suspended. That maybe wasn't intentional, but now, through their bad behavior, they only got what they wanted. So despite everyone wanting them to think their behavior was bad, they feel no guilt, in fact they are going to shamelessly do it again because it got them what they wanted and they don't value what people want them to value.

I started forcing myself to feel self hatred, shame, and guilt because I was terrified of being that kid. I knew it would lead to people not liking me and god not liking me, and that I'd go to hell. So even when I gave into my base impulses I would feel guilty and bad to remind myself that those things are bad and to seek forgiveness. Because I might just fall into not paying attention to the consequences, because in truth, the real life short/medium term consequences just didn't matter to me. And I'd be revealed to be an inherently bad person.

I could also harm others, because although I have empathy, if I didn't force myself to feel bad I would totally forget about it/the importance of the harm others are caused would be very transient/it wouldn't practically speaking matter the moment that person's lived experience was out of my mind.

And in general, I just couldn't trust myself to act like a human without these masochistic guard rails.

[throughalleternity]

Hi I just went through your genderfluid!Lucy tag and on one of the post you had the idea about top surgery!Lucy wearing breast forms so I had an hilarious idea for a fic: Lucy wearing a dress and breast forms and leaning on a counter/table trying to be sexy and suddenly one of the breast froms falls out and then a second of silence as Lucy and Maggie/Alex process what just happended XD.(Can you maybe tag nerdsbianhokie? If you are not up for writing it maybe they are?)

Lolol, I enjoyed this, thanks for the prompt! It got a tiny bit away from me, so it may be a bit haphazard? I'm posting it below, but I'll clean it up and post on AO3 once I figure out a title.

And @nerdsbianhokie, I'm sure that anon would enjoy your take on the prompt if you are so inclined. That goes for any other writers who see this too and feel inspired!

1.5k words of genderfluid!Lucy fic below:

Lucy took a breath, smoothing her hands down over her dress. She stepped back and looked in the mirror one last time. 

“Nia will understand if you aren’t ready to go,” Maggie had said earlier in the week after watching Leon distractedly pour Alex a cup of milk with a dash of coffee. “There’ll be more events—Lena was throwing money at Nia the second she heard about the Dreamer Center plans, so she’s bound to do a charity event for it in the future. Or we can still go but leave early.” 

That had gotten him to stop pacing, to reduce rehearsing the same conversation that yes, you might know of him as Lucy Lane, CatCo’s general counsel, Lois Lane’s sister, or General Lane’s daughter—but that right now he was Leon Lane, and no it wasn’t just a drag thing, and no he wasn’t transitioning to be Leon all the time.

The shift to Lucy this morning had brought some relief. 

But as she imagined the conversations with people now, she felt a different sort of discomfort rise up.

“Ready yet?” Maggie called from outside the bedroom, pulling her away from her thoughts. “We’re not in a rush, but Alex has opened the fridge to stare inside it like twice now, and I think she’s going to raid the food table with Kara the minute after we’ve said hi to Nia.”

“I’m just checking what we have,” Alex insisted, followed by the sound of the fridge being shut. Footsteps, and then a knock on the bedroom door. “Can I come in?”

“Sure.”

“I’m being removed from the kitchen. Which, I know, somewhat of a usual occurrence, but—” Alex stopped short, her eyes finally sweeping over Lucy. “Wow.” Her voice slipped into something breathy. “You look absolutely gorgeous.”

Lucy couldn’t help but duck her head against the fluttering in her body, affected by Alex too. It wasn’t an unexpected compliment, not exactly, but the paranoid part of Lucy had been worried that top surgery would change how Alex and Maggie felt about her. 

Reassured, she couldn’t help but pull Alex closer and make her blush too: “You should see yourself, Danvers.” Lucy played with the knot of her tie, pulling the tail out from behind her suit just for the fun of it. “I hope you don’t have other plans for tonight, because I know what I’d like to do.”

“You know I don’t have other plans,” Alex grinned, hands settling on Lucy’s waist as she stepped closer. “Just you and Maggie for the rest of the night. Though speaking of things we have to do…” The look in her eyes softened, and one hand came up to cup Lucy’s cheek. “We noticed you’ve been holed up in here for a while. You know that this is one of those things you don’t have to do, right? If you’re uncomfortable, or if you’re just tired of people, or whatever. This isn’t work.”

“I know. I just…” The weird feeling engulfed her chest again.

“Is it the dress? I can grab your suit, which you look just as hot in, by the way.”

Lucy smiled, but she shook her head. She was happy to be wearing this dress finally—she hadn’t been able to while recovering from top surgery because the one shoulder design meant that her pocket bras would be visible, and she had to wait to try her adhesive breast forms until her incisions were healed enough. Now it had been a few months, and it felt good, the shape and flow of it against her breasts, and against the rest of her body.

“Thanks for offering,” Lucy said, the sharp edge of her frustration lessening slightly. “The dress is actually fine. I think I’m just uncomfortable with people there seeing only this—” she gestured to herself, “and assuming?”

“Mm.” A look of understanding passed over Alex’s face. “Kind of like when people assume your sexuality based on who they see you with?”

“I… Yeah, actually.” She and James had even gotten shouted at once at Pride—by a group of teenagers who probably didn’t know any better, but it had soured the experience. “That I’ve figured out how to handle, at least. This is…” Lucy let her forehead drop onto Alex’s shoulder. 

Alex’s arms wrapped around her. “It’s really bothering you, huh?” she murmured.

Lucy just sighed.

“Would you like permission not to go?”

“I already know I don’t—”

“I know. Hey, I know that you know,” Alex said, rubbing her hand on Lucy’s back, the touch easing the tension that had gathered. “But it’s like what you tell Maggie and I, right? We’re still learning how to not feel so obligated, how to say no to things. And this isn’t life or death.” 

“I can’t just…”

Alex kept going. “This is me giving you permission. Okay? You have my permission not to go.”

Lucy squeezed her eyes shut harder. This gentleness still felt like an overwhelming spotlight on the weakest parts of herself, but Alex’s touch never left Lucy, steadying her a little more after each inhale.

“If you’re fine going but you need something from Maggie and I, we can absolutely do that too. But no one will be disappointed in you if you can’t go.”

Lucy breathed into Alex’s shoulder again, and then once more. She finally picked her head up to look at her. “What about you and Maggie? You’ve been excited for this.”

“We can still go and enjoy it for a bit,” Alex reassured. “I know that the three of us can kind of be a package deal, but I promise that Maggie and I will not destroy things if left unsupervised.”

A huff left Lucy’s lungs at the grin and the promise which, if the context were any different, would not be convincing at all. “You two have the worst track records, I swear,” she said, shaking her head. 

“But you love us anyway.”

“Somehow I do,” Lucy said, exasperated yet fond. She was stuck with the two of them, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. She hugged Alex again, notching her chin on her shoulder. “And, um, thanks for saying all that. Can we do that?”

“Absolutely.” Alex pressed a kiss to Lucy’s head. “Love you too, Luce.”

--

A couple hours later, Alex and Maggie came back to the apartment, thankfully unscathed and with a plate of food swiped for Lucy. 

“We got you this, too.” Maggie pushed a set of jewelry across the kitchen table, the colors of the genderfluid flag and bi flag popping out. “We figured that the necklace would work well with most of your dresses, and there’s pins to put on other things too.” 

“So you can be a little more visible when you want to be.” Alex pressed her shoulder against Lucy’s.

Warmth spread through her even as she sputtered. “Oh you didn’t have—” 

The look Maggie gave Lucy stifled her protests. Maggie just inched the jewelry further towards her until she finally took them with an amused but genuine smile. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Maggie rested her elbow on the table and propped her chin up with her hand. “So.” She looked Lucy up and down, the side of her mouth quirking up. Lucy knew what she was thinking—the looks she gave her hadn’t changed. “Did you go anywhere while we were away, or were you just waiting around all dressed up for us?”

“I did some reading. Figured I’d keep the dress on because it’s fun to see Alex’s brain stutter,” Lucy said, smirking back at Maggie.

Alex reached across to shove Maggie’s shoulder. “You were the one rushing us home because you got reminded of Lucy’s dress, and, well.”

Lucy laughed at Maggie’s shrug, no attempt to deny it. “Yeah?” Lucy leaned forward. 

Evidently too much though, because her elbow had just touched the table when she felt her left breast form start to slide. One playful shoulder bump by Alex later and it was resting on the table limply.

“Well,” Lucy said finally. “Rough sex with these is off the menu until I figure out how to apply the adhesive better.”

“Oh my god.” The expression on Alex’s face was frozen in shock for a moment before she slapped a hand over her face and let out an embarrassed noise. “I forgot that could happen now. Please don’t tell me I ruined the moment.”

“No, you’re fine. Come here,” Lucy smiled, gently pulling the hand away to kiss her. 

“It’s only ruined if we let it be ruined, right?” Maggie was somewhat successfully biting back her own grin. If it was with anyone else, Lucy would have been worried that the laughter was directed at her. But Maggie was amused at Alex’s reaction, and when she met Lucy’s eyes, the mischievous look from before was still there. “We can wait if you want to switch to your bra, unless you want help?” 

“I got it.” Lucy took her runaway form from Maggie, the action as comfortable as being passed a binder. “You can help take off my dress after though, if you want.”

“Don’t take too long.” Maggie pulled her in for a kiss of her own, affection and heat that coursed over Lucy’s skin. “Alex and I, we definitely want.”

[kscribbs]

For the fanfic asks: 😅, 😈, 🤡, 🍦, 💖 and 🤲🏼 (plz 🥹)

TYSM for the Qs, Dani! 🥰

What's a story or scene you've created that you're a smidge embarrassed exists?

Soooo many, omg. I've been writing since I was around twelve/thirteen? And some of those early works -- oof. 😅 Up until a few years ago my first ever fic was still available to read on ff.net. It was... charmingly bad.

The original draft of ML has its moments too, I'll admit. Things that I am SO glad I changed/re-structured.

Has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers?

Mayyybbeeee. >:) I knew what I was doing when I went straight from the scrying cliffhanger into a twelve year time-skip. I was a little worried about it being TOO jarring, in all honesty. Twelve years is a long time, after all. But hopefully that isn't the case!

There are a few scenes coming up in ML that I think may fall into this category, also.

What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

(Excerpt from the lil' Christmassy one shot I mentioned a while back. Set several months prior to the events of ML):

What's the sweetest fic you've created so far?

The Forgiven is pretty sweet! But ofc, the themes are somewhat... intense. Same goes for ML. I think the latter takes the cake in terms of sweetness, however. Given the romantic tones, later on. Not to mention all the familial fluff! Something something Winter/Jack/Blaise hug on the steps of Frost Manor... (There is an overabundance of hugs, which makes me, personally, very happy!)

What made you start writing?

Honestly? A desire to escape reality. I know that sounds a bit gloomy, but it's the truth. Whenever life got just a little too stressful/intense my natural inclination was to withdraw to the written word/the multiple fantasy worlds existing inside my head. I found it therapeutic! And continue to do so.

Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

For the longest time I couldn't decide which snip to include. Two stood out to me, and in the end I just said "fuck it, I'll post both", lmao. I dunno when I'm going to be able to get the next chapter of ML up (soon, hopefully, but life happens!) and I've been looking for an opportunity to share some write-y stuff. I think it's safe to say that I've plumbed the depths of that opportunity here -- apologies! 😂

(Lengthy -- and ever-so-slightly spoiler-y -- excerpts from ML under the cut!)

‘Is that really necessary, lady?’

‘Every detail counts, Council Member Cupid. Even that which might seem negligible on the face of it can lead to deeper truths. In any case, when you opened the door, Dr. Miller, there was no one there?’

‘No. No one.’

‘You didn’t even see a silhouette? A retreating shadow?’

‘…I’m sorry, no.’

‘No matter. How heavy would you say the footsteps were?’

Lucy frowned. She’d never thought of that before. 

‘Fairly heavy,’ she answered, after several seconds. ‘Heavier than Jack’s, now that I think about it.’

‘Oh, well, thank you,’ Jack said, sounding rather flattered. ‘My secret is jazz-ice-size. Like jazzercise, but on skates. Very trimming.’

Ms Delaney noted this down. (The footsteps thing, not the “jazz-ice-size”). ‘You then stepped out into the corridor, and saw… what, exactly?’

Lucy described the detonator, the explosion, the retreat into what she now knew to be her mindscape. Coming to and finding the tunnel all-but collapsed.

‘Hm. And you were trapped there… how long, would you say? Before your brother — Charlie, is it? Yes, Charlie — came to your aid?’

Lucy’s knee was bouncing anxiously now, her palms clammy inside her gloves. She could feel her heart-rate beginning to climb, as she was plunged back into the darkness and claustrophobia of that night. Into the feeling of complete hopelessness, and the stomach-turning reality that she might die like that — frightened and in pain, struggling for breath. Somehow the memory still had the capacity to wound her, even after all these years, its remnants buried in the folds of her mind like broken glass beneath a shallow layer of earth.

‘F— ahem. Four hours, I think.’

Beside her, Scott released a slow breath. Lucy didn’t dare look at him, or any of the other Council Members. She disliked the sympathy and guilt mentions of the attack tended to garner. People suffered far worse, after all.

‘Give-give or take,’ she added, when the silence stretched on. ‘It’s all a bit of a blur now. Charlie just had this… sense, that something was wrong. And when he tried to call and I didn’t answer, he came looking. Took me to the hospital. I was fine.’

The image of her brother’s panic-stricken face swam, unbidden, to the forefront of her mind. Having managed to dislodge the worst of the wreckage he’d eventually shimmied his way through a narrow ingress to the place where Lucy’d lain — half-conscious and terrified.

‘Shh, it’s all right,’ he’d murmured, pulling her to his chest, one hand questing through her hair for the source of the blood she hadn’t felt trickling down the side of her face. ‘I’ve got you. You’re safe now, Squirt. I won’t let anything happen to you…’ 

Only then had Lucy allowed herself a moment of frailty, collapsing against him in a fit of muffled sobs. Which had turned to panicked gasps, which had turned to—

She cleared her throat, banishing the memory hastily. 

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jack’s long fingers twitch in her direction, and for the briefest of moments she thought he intended to take her hand beneath the table. …But no. He curled them into a tight fist at his side.

---

The room was dim, the muted glow of early morning falling across the walls like a running watercolour.

‘Look sharp, Frost,' Melusine whispered, dropping a copy of the New York Times onto his lap. ‘The two of you made the front page.’

After some difficulty Jack succeeded in freeing his arm (which was now decidedly numb) from where it had been wedged between Lucy and the sofa cushions, taking enormous care not to jostle her too much. Her hair — still a little curly from the humidity of the tunnel — slipped over her face, the light from Widener's Orb threading through it like pale fingers.

Doing his utmost to appear unmoved as she nestled further into his chest, and not at all like he was turning to slush on the inside, he picked up the newspaper, straightening it with a flourish. Sure enough, there, on the cover, was what looked like a bystander’s photograph of the spectacle in Times Square.

Jack grimaced, his gaze moving from the fifteen-foot wall of ice, to the ten-or-more car pile-up, to the startled faces of his and Lucy’s likenesses, and back again. 

He swore under his breath. 

‘It’s not the only one, I’m afraid,’ said Melusine, leaning forward to turn the page. ‘There’s a special feature. Look.’

He was greeted by two images: One of the mangled subway car, twisted and smouldering where it lay lengthways across the tracks, and a close-up of he and Lucy running hand-in-hand through the urgent press of commuters/NYPD officers, Lucy shooting a jet of scarlet light (an immobilising jinx, it looked like) over her shoulder. 

“Senseless Social Media Stunt or Signs of the Supernatural? You Decide,” the headline read, in large, spidery typography. 

“Do sorcerers live among us? How about superheroes? Or, indeed, supervillains? The answer might surprise you!

"Yesterday afternoon Manhattanites bore witness to a rather unusual -- and highly destructive -- chain of events, involving a nameless man (40s?) and woman (30s?), as well as a mysterious cloaked individual, who were captured from multiple angles using what appear to be magical wands/staffs (yes, really!) to wreak havoc in Bryant Park Station on W 42nd. As well as summoning ice and snow from thin air in the middle of Times Square! Elsa who?"

‘Shit,’ Jack said softly, rubbing his chin. ‘That’s… definitely not ideal.’

‘Mm.’

‘...They might’ve at least captured my good side.'

‘Is that really the thing to be focusing on right now, Jack? You don't think there might be more pressing issues at hand?'

[ecosystem-administrator]

Veracity

Timeline: post-6.0-ish, no specific spoilers

Aymeric is getting better at reading Miqo'te-specific body language.

“But I believe we have been pursuing the matter long enough for the time being,” Aymeric said decisively, placing both hands on the table and rising to his feet. It was a little early to break for lunch, but no one seemed much inclined to object, as papers were gathered and chairs pushed back from the table. “We can reconvene to continue this discussion in the afternoon, once everyone has had opportunity to refresh themselves and gather their thoughts.”

As the meeting dissolved, he caught Mayhem’s eye with a smile and tilted his head toward the door. “If you have no other engagements, my friend, might I monopolize your time a little longer?”

“Of course.” Mayhem smiled up at him sweetly, falling into step at his side. He somewhat regretted that he couldn’t afford to be more openly affectionate with them in public; it wasn’t as if their relationship was exactly a secret, but Ishgardian high society revolved around a great many polite fictions. So long as the two of them did nothing in public that could not be ignored, those who would disapprove of the Lord High Speaker being intimate with a foreign wanderer would hold their tongues so as not to incite others who would rebut that this particular ‘foreign wanderer’ was Ishgard’s savior and deserved ever more official recognition for it - since neither of them had much desire for a traditional binding arrangement, it had always so far seemed better not to stir that pot unnecessarily. And so Mayhem was ‘my friend’ in public to him rather than ‘my love’, and he did not settle a hand at their waist as they moved together into the hallway.

“I wanted to inquire if you were quite well,” he explained as they moved away from the dispersing group and down a quieter stone hallway. “I doubt the others noticed, but you seemed a touch distracted.”

Mayhem grimaced sheepishly, tail curling over and ears flicking for a moment. “Was it that obvious? It’s nothing important, I promise.”

“As I said, I doubt the others noticed,” Aymeric reassured them. He reached out to draw a fingertip along one black-furred ear, since there was no one around at the moment to see him do it. “I’ve been growing more adept at reading the signs you show here, and I doubt many Ishgardians have that manner of experience. Even when nothing shows on your face, I must admit to some amusement that you seem to have more trouble prevaricating with your other features.”

“It’s pretty common with Miqo’te,” Mayhem admitted, smiling sheepishly. “You won’t see a lot of us playing cards with each other. …Anyway, it’s really nothing. Shouldn’t even be a problem by this afternoon.”

Puzzled by this answer, Aymeric tilted his head and stared into their eyes, thinking back to the room and the odd shiftlessness he’d witnessed in the vaunted Warrior of Light during their morning meeting. Was it one of the other representatives distracting them so? But if that were the case, the same people would be returning… And then he had it, his eyebrows raising with surprise as he fought to keep the smile off his face.

Seeing his expression, Mayhem groaned and rubbed their own face with one hand. “You’re a terrible liar too, you know. Go on then, say it.”

“The birds in the tree outside the window behind us,” Aymeric said, unable to entirely keep the suppressed laughter from his voice.

“I could see their shadows!” Mayhem practically wailed in frustration. “Flickering back and forth and up and down and chasing each other the entire time! Do you have any idea what it’s like trying to focus past your instincts to pay attention to a meeting about what amounts to social niceties? It’s not my fault I’m wired to hunt and chase!” They sighed and straightened their posture. “…Anyway, the sun will be on the other side of the building by the time we go back in, so it won’t be a problem.” The tip of their tail brushed against his hand as they smiled at him again. “And…I do appreciate your noticing. Thank you, love.”

[pazodetrasalba]

Sauron's Ring

Dear Caroline:

The second episode of the Spellcaster podcast doesn't dwell on you as much as the first, but it does start with a depiction of your entry into Jane Street and the sort of unconventional, high-math-and-games, nerdy atmosphere one could find there. Effective Altruism as a common thread between you and Sam is referred to, and the movement briefly summarized.

This got me thinking back to the first posts I wrote here, and on a topic that has been much discussed, including within the EA community: how much did the said communities' principles and ideological background actually influence the people and events that were involved in FTX's rise and fall? As you might imagine, many who were negatively inclined towards EA and utilitarianism have pounced on the opportunity to write articles (even books!) mocking the cause and employing you and Sam as a bad exemplum of where that rabbit hole might end up taking you.

I don't think I have changed my view that your fall is a complex, multi-causal event. As my priors include you as a morally good, even virtuous sort of person, then the emphasis has to go on you essentially making wrong choices under what you presumed were good (enough) reasons. And here some of the principles and values of Effective Altruism can feel, even if not the moving cause, intensifiers of the potential for bad choices through the radical optimization drive and the utilitarian ethos that, however much it might proclaim its rejection of short-cuts, can very easily legitimize shady actions ex post factum if the results were good.

Like, along with youth, naiveté and agreeableness, I feel your high intelligence would have been a force for the bad. I've always felt that intelligence is a bit like Sauron's Ring - a powerful tool, but one that has the power to delude and besot its users. Human nature being what it is, our natural tendency is to overestimate our degree of smartness. This would play even more in the cases where you are actually quite smart, in fact well, well above the median of even other clever people, as is your case. This would inevitably generate a sense of hubris and overconfidence arising from those previous experiences, a subterranean belief that one will always be able to get away of most or all situations and avoid pitfalls and traps, confident in the possession of this golden jewel.

Ambition, though, would play here a role little less relevant. Early-blog, Trad Caroline didn't seem overtly so (in many regards, you were too humble), but I can see how EA's optimization drive and savior complex would have changed that, and not always for the better. You were pretty happy in Jane Street, but as the issue was doing the most good, it was obviously not going to make you a multimillionaire or a world-changer in the way that going to Alameda could (and actually seemed) to have done. And indeed, without having the knowledge we now do, I would concur that the choice you made at the time was consistent with your system of axioms/values, and a pretty much unobjectionable choice.

The obsession with optimization, utilitarian views and risk-taking cannot be entirely blamed on EA, as I suspect you already had a streak of them to begin with; and yet I feel like it happens here as with many ideologies, where they stoke the fires of the worse demons of one's nature. And living in an environment of high responsibility, high pressure, enormous amounts of money being pushed around and negative precedents of people who 'faked it till they made it' from the economic past and from your associate's present would have turned those fires into a blazing firestorm, consuming everything in its path.

There's little crying now over spilled milk. A lot of probably (and provably) irreparable damage has been done, and yet you are young -and I believe still as smart and as ethical and ambitious to do good, if somewhat battered by the grievous misdeeds you participated in and confessed to. I also believe there is yet hope for you to make a comeback that could leave an overall positive footprint in the world, and can hope that you have learned from your mistakes and are ready to initiate the long penance that Sauron refused to make when confronted with Eönwë at the end of the War of Wrath.

Quote:

When Thangorodrim was broken and Morgoth overthrown, Sauron put on his fair hue again and did obeisance to Eönwë, the herald of Manwë, and abjured all his evil deeds. And some hold that this was not at first falsely done, but that Sauron in truth repented, if only out of fear, being dismayed by the fall of Morgoth and the great wrath of the Lords of the West. But it was not within the power of Eönwë to pardon those of his own order, and he commanded Sauron to return to Aman and there receive the judgement of Manwë. Then Sauron was ashamed, and he was unwilling to return in humiliation and to receive from the Valar a sentence, it might be, of long servitude in proof of his good faith; for under Morgoth his power had been great. Therefore when Eönwë departed he hid himself in Middle-earth; and he fell back into evil, for the bonds that Morgoth had laid upon him were very strong.

The Silmarillion

[tiredcowpoke]

TITLE: Blank Spots [25] (18+) PAIRING: (Somewhat pre-established) Arthur Morgan/Fem!Reader, could be seen as an OC. REQUEST: Unprompted. BLURB: After waking up at the base of a steep incline and nearly freezing to death, you stumble upon a group of strangers who swear up and down that they know you. WARNINGS: Some creative license for amnesia. Major warning for smut.  NOTE: Here’s the next chapter! A pretty long one this time, but I didn’t know where to cut it off without making the next chapter a jarring mess. Also, tried to write some smut this chapter, I don’t know how natural it flows but I tried.  TAG LIST: @on-my-way-to-erebor / @otherthingstoreid @ireallyhonestlydontcare @elanisha @darlingsdevil @cirillamylove @bunnyreese12 @rollyjogerjones @callmemythicalminx @r4reland @itsnothingwithoutchaos

The previous camp was particularly rough in regards to heat, but out in the swamps it felt like the heat started to suffocate early in the morning.

You had been surprised that you had managed to fall asleep so easily–a mercifully dreamless sleep, too. However, you could feel yourself getting way too warm to keep sleeping, the rough texture of the wall at your shoulder, and the solid warmth pressed against your side helped in waking you up all the more. With a small sigh out of your nose, you brought a hand up to rub at your eyes, blinking them open as you took in the room.

It was light out, at least, the early morning sun being partly blocked out by Arthur’s sleeping form at your side. Admittedly, you had been getting used to sleeping outside, but the added privacy was kind of nice. Despite the house giving you the creeps. You shifted your head slightly to look at Arthur’s face, his eyes still shut, breathing even. At least he was able to sleep, despite both him and the raising heat outside making it difficult for you.

The events of the previous day slowly started to push through your sleepy thoughts–Jack was back, and safe. At least, as safe as he could be. He hadn’t seemed all that bothered by the whole thing, which only gave you more questions about Bronte. Yet…well, he was unharmed and back with his parents, which was what mattered.

Though, try as you did to not do so, you found your gaze shifting to glance toward the table over Arthur’s shoulder. Mary’s letter lay there, opened, from where it had been placed the other night. You had followed through on your resolve to not meddle with it, but it seemed Arthur had read it. Back at Horseshoe Overlook, you recalled how conflicted the whole situation was between Arthur and Mary. At the time, you were just starting to get to know him–or get to know him again. You didn’t know enough about their previous relationship or a reason to feel any sort of way about it at that point.

This time, however? It was hard to tell how you felt.

You let out a slow sigh through your nose, rubbing a hand across your eyes. After the stress and dramatics of the last couple days, you really didn’t want to think about it. You glanced back at Arthur’s face–he looked peaceful in that moment. To you, anyway. You were used to seeing that tension in his brow, and there had been more than enough frustration between you two the last couple days. You had heard the odd comment around camp about him being sour, and you could see why they might say that but you had seen quite a few different sides of him. Some good, some bad. It was more complicated than just being one thing or another–by virtue of running with the gang, you knew you were likely subject to the same judgements. From outside, anyway.

Regardless, Arthur deserved to get some rest. Though, that didn’t seem to be his plan.

“I can almost hear you thinkin’,” he muttered without opening his eyes, voice heavy with sleep but the comment pulled a small chuckle from you.

“Then you must know that I’m thinking both you and the swamp are giving me a slow heat death,” you remarked, pulling a small, amused huff as he opened his eyes slightly as you repositioned yourself into a more comfortable position on the cot.

“You doin’ okay? Left the party real early last night.”

“Yeah, just the stress of the last couple days caught up to me. Didn’t feel like celebrating,” you replied, allowing Arthur to reach up to cup the back of your head and press a kiss to your forehead as you wrapped an arm around his middle.

“I understand,” Arthur said as you rested your head against his chest for the moment. It certainly wasn’t helping in keeping you from feeling like you were overheating, but a part of you craved the closeness. You felt Arthur wrap an arm around you to press you closer to him for a few moments, feeling him let out a slow sigh as you both rested there for a few moments before he spoke up again.

“We should get outta here,” Arthur said after a moment, causing you to furrow your brow for a moment.

“Yeah? Dutch doesn’t have any plans in the city yet?” you asked, shifting to prop yourself up on an elbow somewhat as Arthur let out a small huff.

“Oh, I’m sure he does, but might as well give him some time to sort them out,” he replied, “Plus…well, everythin’ goin’ on, I need to get my head sorted too. Thought maybe you would want to go with me.”

The stress of camp and the events of the last while really made that a very tempting offer, and you knew you wanted to spend some more time with Arthur that wasn’t falling asleep together, seeing each other in camp, or, worse, butting heads.

“Where did you want to go?” you asked after a few moments, interested.

“There’s this supposed legendary fish out up near Strawberry,” Arthur replied, “I know you ain’t a fan of fishin’, but it’s some pretty country up there.”

“I have no issues with the fishing, but that’s a hell of a trek.”

“We head out early ‘nough, we’ll have a day or two up there,” Arthur replied as you thought it over before shifting to sit up.

“Give me some time to get dressed and I’ll join you,” you replied with a small grin as Arthur followed suit, trying to keep your eyes from drifting over toward the table.

                                                    ***

It was a slow start through the morning as you rode up into the Heartlands, not sharing too much conversation but you were grateful for the somewhat cooler temperatures as you neared Valentine. Though, as you were riding a trail leading out of town limits, Arthur spoke up again as you started to match pace with his horse.

“Guess Bronte’s invited Dutch to this garden party for the mayor of Saint Denis,” he commented, causing you to raise your eyebrows.

“You always been good at high society parties like that?” you asked with some light humor.

“No,” Arthur replied with a small laugh, “Though, I’m good at stealin’ and gettin’ information, which I suppose that’s what this is gonna be about. I…can’t promise nothin’, but maybe I can talk Dutch into lettin’ you come with that. You was always more sociable than me.”

“I don’t know how well I would fit in with the likes of the mayor, but…well, if I can help, I’ll help.”

“Well, I’ll ask but–as I said, can’t promise anythin’.”

You gave a small nod at that, understanding. It was Dutch’s call, and you hadn’t really had much time to get to know the man, much less work with him. Plus, with Micah hanging around…well, you were trying to avoid that for the time being. Really, you had no idea how to approach it and you knew you should tell Arthur eventually that you remember what happened on the mountain, but you didn’t know what his reaction would be. Though, between getting kidnapped, Jack, now this whole thing with Bronte–well, you were plenty distracted. Talking about going to this mayor’s party was far from what you really wanted to talk about anyway, the question sitting on your tongue since you had woken up that morning.

You didn’t want to pry, yet–

“I…damn it,” you started, causing Arthur to turn his head toward you for a moment as the two of you continued down the path at a leisurely pace. “Last night, as I was coming upstairs, I saw Tilly exiting your room. She told me that you got a letter and…well, with us being together, she felt compelled to tell me that it was from Mary. I didn’t want to pry, but…”

“I was hopin’ that me gettin’ away from camp might help me figure that out too,” Arthur replied, a small bit of guilt cropping up.

“You don’t need to tell me–”

“No, you deserve to know,” Arthur interrupted, “With us bein’ how we are, it ain’t fair to keep somethin’ like that from you. She did write me again. Askin’ for help. Again. Though, as she describes, she’s real ashamed to be doin’ so. I don’t know, my first impulse is to at least see what she wants–for what we had together, I suppose.”

“It’s your choice,” you said, “I don’t know her or your relationship with her, I just remember Horseshoe and how things have changed and…Well, I’m not too proud to admit that maybe I am a little insecure. I know you were planning on getting married, those types of feelings are hard to walk away from.”

Not that you had much experience in that, Arthur was the only person you knew that you had developed feelings for–in your mostly forgotten past, in your present. Still…well, if this whole situation taught you anything, it was how complicated some relationships could be. You noticed Arthur pulling back on the reins of his horse somewhat as you approached a river, causing you to pull back on your own as you stopped your horse next to his own.

“I…” Arthur started, seeming to weigh his words, “I loved Mary, guess part of me still does but…I’m with you. I want to be with you. You’re right, those types of feelings are hard to walk away from, but I weren’t lyin’ when I said I had wanted want to make room for you. I had no idea she would walk back into my life, but I wouldn’t have kissed you or anythin’ like that if I thought I was gonna end up back with her.”

“I understand,” you replied with a nod, “Well–maybe I don’t understand, most of my past is missing but…”

“I get what you mean,” Arthur replied with a soft chuckle, “I’ll think about Mary’s letter some more, but…I didn’t want that to sit over this whole trip.”

“As far as I’m concerned, it…it is what it is. I trust you and your word.”

Arthur nodded his head, you watching him for a few moments before you guided your horse closer to him. You reached out to pull him into a kiss, Arthur reaching out to place a hand on your hip to make sure you didn’t slide off the saddle. In reality, the kiss was a quick one due to where you were and the animals between you, but in your mind you found yourself savoring the gesture. Some relief upon sorting out some of the mess–for now. Being close to him after such a long couple of days.

Still, you knew where you were and feeling the form of a grin touching Arthur’s lips reminded you how strange the moment was.

“Lean over any further and I’ll have to pull you into my saddle to save us the trouble,” Arthur remarked once you pulled back, causing you to let out a small chuckle as you situated yourself back on your horse properly. A small voice in the back of your head told you that you wouldn’t have hated that, but you shook it off as you started to steer your horse toward the river crossing.

“Seemed less awkward in my head,” you replied, waiting for Arthur to lead the way toward this lake he was talking about.

He was right, it was some beautiful country out this way. The mountains becoming the giants they were in their own right and not just something you could see from the edges of the old camp back at Horseshoe. Though, while the weather was temperate and wasn’t the same suffocating heat that you were trying to get used to, it made you all the more aware that you may have underestimated the temperature change. Especially as the sun started to hide behind some rather dark looking clouds.

Arthur had commented that rain wasn’t exactly a bad thing for fishing, but the odd drop you felt against the top of your head soon became a pretty steady spray. Once the wind started to pick up, you knew your fishing trip might have to wait until that passed, especially considering the rain started to feel like ice water. It didn’t take you all that long before your clothes were starting to get soaked through, hunched over the horse you rode as Arthur tried to steer you both toward the nearest town.

Once you passed under the sign welcoming you into Strawberry, you could feel your shoulders and arms tremoring as you followed Arthur up toward the Welcome Center. You didn’t need to be told twice to hitch your horse, quickly slipping off the saddle and heading up into the building. Thankfully, it was warmer inside, but it was hard to hide how you were holding yourself as Arthur paid for a room and a bath.

“So much for that fish,” you commented as you climbed the stairs up toward the second floor.

“Tomorrow,” Arthur replied, “You should get warm in that bath, we can wait the storm out.”

You couldn’t to argue with that. Shedding your jacket and leaving it on the chest near the bed in your room, moved next door to slip into the bathroom. The warmth of the room from the fire and the steam in the bath was a welcomed sensation, you wasting no time to shed the rest of your clothing and lowering yourself into the tub. You let out a slow sigh through your nose, letting the warm water relax the muscles in your body as you tipped your head against the back of the tub. Admittedly, you weren’t sure how long it had been since you had a warm bath–you were used to washing in the lake short trek from camp and wiping yourself down with some of the water in camp, but nothing like this.

Arthur was right, maybe you both needed to get away from camp. Though, the storm had put a bit of a pause to your plans.

Though, spending time alone with him wasn’t something you hated. If anything, it didn’t seem like you had much of a chance to outside of that small trip you took with that treasure map. Then everything seemed to quickly fall apart after that, but you didn’t want to follow that train of thought too far. Where your mind wandered to instead was, admittedly, an interesting place.

It was hard to navigate your relationship with Arthur, the collision of the past you didn’t remember and the present. From what you remembered of that mountain and how you regarded him, there was some deep affection there. Still was. Yet, it was hard to place. Arthur had said up in Colter that you two had only been together for a couple months, but if recent events told you anything it was that many things could happen in just a couple months. It was hard to tell where you were before, how young that relationship really was. The camp knew, you two had been together. How deep did those feelings run? Were the two of you intimate?

Those were questions that you knew you couldn’t just bring up in conversation. Hell, you still didn’t know how to approach the whole situation with Micah.

The last question gave you some pause, though, causing you to prop an arm up on the side of the tub as you rubbed at your forehead a bit. You knew you had the odd urge and passing thought, but in the chaos of the last while, they had been easy to dismiss or ignore. You wondered if he…well, you would never know unless you asked. Yet, you weren’t sure if it was time. Part of you wanted to approach that with Arthur, yet another was worried it would just complicate things. For the both of you. Yet, you had no idea what time you had to be truly alone with him.

You let out another sigh through your nose, pulling your mind away from that for the time being as you worked on getting yourself washed up. No use ruining things by overthinking. You spent a couple minutes getting clean and warming up before you dressed yourself again and entered the room.

Arthur was sitting on the bed, glancing up from the journal open in his lap as you entered.

“Better?” he asked, you giving him a small nod.

“Yeah,” you said with a chuckle, “Better than cold lake water or the swamp we’re now in.”

“Can’t wait to get back to that…” Arthur remarked somewhat under his breath, pulling a small grin from you.

You sat down on the bed beside him as he shut his journal and moved to put it back in his satchel. As comfortable you had grown to be around him, it was hard not to feel some tension in you in regards to a number of things circling in your head. You wondered if you should just ask the damn question–you weren’t great at holding most of them inside anyway.

“You seem quiet,” Arthur commented, “Ain’t all ‘bout Mary, is it?”

“No,” you replied quickly, “No, there’s just a lot going on.”

“I know what you mean.”

“I…” you let out a breath, almost a laugh, “I guess I have a bit of a silly question. Feels like something I should already know, but the way my memory is…well. You said back in Colter that we were together for a couple months before, right?”

“Yeah, for a while,” Arthur replied with a small nod, “Camp didn’t know for a bit, though, so you might get some different answers to that.”

“In that time together, were we ever…intimate or physically…?” God, you wanted to wince at yourself–sounding like a damn nervous teenager.

Though, the look of surprise that crossed Arthur’s face kind of helped subdue some of the embarrassment that cropped up at how you decided to approach this.

“No…No, we never really were. Might’ve had moments, but–well, things wasn’t as chaotic as they are now, but we was still pretty busy back then too.”

You nodded your head, turning that over in your head somewhat. You hated being the one without memories or knowledge of how your relationship with him was. At this point, you weren’t sure if you would ever fully get your memory back. Did that past even matter if you had ‘started over’ in the present?

“Wasn’t that I weren’t interested,” Arthur continued, “Things were just…as they were. Why ask?”

“Well, it’s not because I like to see you squirm,” you replied with a small chuckle, a tad awkward, “I just…I don’t know, I guess I was curious…”

“You think of me that way?” Arthur asked, almost sounding like he was disbelieving of it.

“Well, it’s not something I’d admit outside of this bedroom, but…well, I’ve always thought you were an attractive man, even when you seemed like a stranger to me.”

“I don’t know ‘bout all that, but guess I can’t change what you think,” Arthur replied with a soft huff, almost lighthearted but you knew this wasn’t the first time he put himself down. It wasn’t a constant thing, but when you were alone with him…well, you could see it.

“I guess you can’t but that doesn’t make it any less true,” you replied, shifting to face him a little more on the bed.

“...I missed bein’ close to you,” Arthur admitted after a moment, “For a while there, I thought there was no way things was goin’ to go okay, but…guess I figured you’d never want to. After everythin’.”

“This whole situation…it’s so complicated and there are things I can’t really wrap my head around, but I guess some things go the way we don’t expect,” you replied, meeting his gaze, “I like being close to you. As frustrated as we both get at each other, sometimes.”

You offered him a small smile, genuine to the feeling that sat in your chest. Though, you were somewhat surprised after a moment to have him reach out to pull you into a kiss. It wasn’t the quick ones you had shared so far, nor that first one you had on the banks of the old camp. That had been full of relief, of finally crossing a line that you had been toeing at for a while. This one was firmer, a little slower as if savoring the moment. You let your hands roam up his chest to run your fingers into his hair. You felt his hands come to rest against your sides, pulling you a little closer.

In that moment you knew you could pull back, take the kiss for what it was and settle in for the evening to wait out the storm. Yet, in the moment you found yourself not really wanting to. Plus, you knew if you changed your mind, you could stop. With that in mind, you found your hands shifting to pull at the front of his shirt, coaxing Arthur to lay down with you. You settled your legs around his hips as he laid himself between them, resting his arms on either side of your shoulders as he broke the kiss. You felt him inhale, your chests close enough to brush with your breathing.

“You sure you wanna do this?”

“Yes,” you replied, reaching up to run your thumb across the stubble on his cheek, “Though, I don’t know if I’ve ever done this before, so…”

“Been more than a couple years for me, sweetheart,” Arthur replied, “You tell me to stop, we’ll stop.”

You nodded again in confirmation, pulling him in for another kiss. The feeling of his body against yours was somewhat intoxicating, running your hands down his back. In doing so, you were starting to realize how clothed you both were. Though, it didn’t appear you were the only one with that realization as Arthur pulled back to start to remove his shirt and the top part of his union suit. You knew you had kind of loosely put your own clothes back on after the bath, knowing you would end up taking off the extra layers to sleep but sleep was definitely put aside at the moment.

Stripping down to your underclothing, it didn’t take too long before you were pulled back in close to Arthur. Your heart was starting to beat hard in your chest as you felt him reach under the fabric to run his hands up your sides and across your bare back. His hands were rough, you had known that beforehand from the times you have kissed before, but in this context it was sending quick shivers across your skin. In return, you reached up to help pull his union suit down his shoulders. The only time you had really seen his chest was what parts you saw when Grimshaw had been treating the wound in his shoulder from the O’Driscolls.

So, you couldn’t help to run your hands across his exposed flesh as Arthur dropped his head down to kiss at your neck. The sensation had your hands stilling on his sides as your eyes shut, feeling another shiver rip down your spine and that pressure building between your legs. Whatever hesitancy you may have had before, you knew in that moment that those feelings had dissipated. You wanted him, and from the way his kisses got harder and his hands started to wander, you could only hope that feeling was mutual.

It didn’t take too long before you both bared yourselves to each other fully. The realization as the last bit of your clothing came off was a bit of an awkward one, and from Arthur’s small pause you figured that you might not be too alone in that feeling. Though, that moment passed quickly enough as Arthur lay himself down between your legs again, your head starting to swim a bit from the amount of sensations rushing through you at the moment. You ran your hands up his back again, though stilled your hands on the backs of his shoulders at the feeling of his hand dropping down your torso. He placed his hand on the inside of one of your thighs, wordlessly coaxing you to part them a little more. You did so, sucking in a small breath through your nose at the feeling of him starting to rub between your legs with his fingers.

The motions were firm and repetitive, but it was pleasurable.

You let out another sigh through your nose at the feeling, rolling your hips into his motions a bit. It was stoking that feeling in your gut–it was better than the wandering touches, yet it wasn’t doing much to help that feeling. Though, thankfully, you didn’t have to sit with that moment for too much longer. You let out a soft moan at the combined feeling of Arthur’s mouth against your neck and one of his fingers pushing inside you. Though, the sensation was unfamiliar–not completely unpleasant but you couldn’t help the way you seemed to tense somewhat.

“You okay?” Arthur asked after a moment, his tone caring but there was an unmistakable huskiness to his voice.

“Yeah,” you said with a small nod, “Keep going.”

Arthur lowered his head to press a kiss to your mouth, you pressing the pads of your fingers into his shoulders somewhat as he started to pump his finger into you. The sensation quickly fueling that tension in you, pleasurable in the build up but you were also anticipating a release of it. At the addition of a second finger, it had your breathing starting to increase at the sensation. You rocked yourself somewhat into the movements, feeling Arthur’s breath against your shoulder. You weren’t sure how long you both had been at that, but the concept of time passing seemed to blur into the background.

Though, Arthur eventually drew back somewhat to situate between your legs a little better.

“You still want me?”

Given his position and the look on his face, it wasn’t hard to piece together what he was referring to. He still had his fingers inside you, but you knew you wanted him to get some pleasure too. You nodded your head in light of a lack of words at the moment, shifting a little closer on the bed. The withdraw of his fingers left you letting out a small breath, though you felt him help guide your legs around his hips as you reached out to grip at his back. You knew his cock would feel very different than just his fingers, but you weren’t expecting the stretch. There was some pain too, which you expected. Still, the feeling pulled a small noise from you, your legs tightening around his hips somewhat.

Still, Arthur moved slow for now, letting you adjust as he muttered some reassurances in your ear. Eventually you did adjust, starting to meet the rocking of his hips somewhat as you tried to get used to the motion.

“Arthur,” you muttered, resting a hand across the back of his neck, “please move…”

You wanted more. Being stuck between building pleasure and that release was starting to feel a little torturous. Though, you kept that comment to yourself. Arthur shifted somewhat at your request, pushing into you with a quicker pace. The feeling had you moaning, moving your hips in an attempt to keep up with him. As much as neither of you seemed to have planned this turn, it was now something you knew you wanted.

With a more substantial change in pace, you found yourself having a hard time holding back the moans and pants as Arthur was thrusting into you. You could hear him starting to breathe heavily, letting out a few groans of his own in return. The odd moan of your name sent shivers down your spine, only fuelling that pleasure that was building inside you, as much as it felt like you had lost your own voice at the moment.

Though, you were pulled away from that floaty feeling that was starting to sit over your mind when Arthur pulled you a little more down the bed. He shifted up slightly, thrusting into you at a different angle. That pulled a loud moan from you as it seemed to hit deeper and pushed you all the quicker toward where you wanted to be.

“I got ya, darlin’,” Arthur said around a hard breath, “You feel so good…”

“So do you,” you returned, trying to gather the words as the feelings surging in you kept trying to rob you of coherent thought, “I…don’t know how much longer I can…”

“S’okay, let go when you wanna…”

Arthur continued to thrust into you, the feeling of his fingers digging into your hips and the quicker pace telling you that perhaps he wasn’t too far behind either. You continued to meet his movements, letting him push you further and further to that peak you wanted. You didn’t know how long it really bad been, but it wasn’t like anybody was timing you on anything. Still, at that tension starting to mount, you could do nothing but ride that out until eventually you were pushed over that edge. You felt yourself tighten, legs squeezing around his hips as you moaned something that might have been his name as your orgasm washed over you.

It seemed to rob you of thoughts for a moment, though you were aware of Arthur still trying to follow you down that path. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like it didn’t take him too long before you felt him pull out completely, releasing himself on your hip and side with your name on his lips.

You shut your eyes, letting the rush of emotions and feelings come through you in waves as you tried to slow your breathing. Though, you opened your eyes somewhat as you felt Arthur wipe himself from your hip before shifting to lay himself down partially on top of you, resting his head on your shoulder. It wasn’t a crushing weight, and you appreciated the warmth of his skin. You ran your hand through his hair as you both tried to catch your breath.

“Thanks for ruining my bath…” you muttered after a moment, letting out a somewhat breathless chuckle.

“You started it,” Arthur muttered in return.

“Guess I did,” you returned, letting out a small breath, “You okay?”

“I’d say I’m more than okay,” Arthur replied with a chuckle, shifting to lay more on his side and pulled you closer to press his mouth against your own with a lingering kiss.

With the aftereffects of your previous activity starting to ebb out, it didn’t take you too long before you were able to doze off, wrapped in Arthur’s embrace as the sound of the water wheel  and the patter of rain outside lulled you to sleep.

[fanmoose12]

I'm sending this to multiple authors because I just think this is fun but: Imagine Levihan and a blooming romance set at your current job/current course

It all starts with a physiology lecture.

Levi arrives to the auditorium only a minute later than usual, but his place is already taken by a bearded asshole in glasses. Arguing with Zeke isn't his favorite past time, but an acute necessity, and Levi debates if he should throw the asshole out of his seat, but professor enters the room just a second later, and so he has no choice but to find another seat.

The only available one is at the front of the auditorium, and Levi cringes as he realizes it. The front of the auditorium is always occupied by the same few people - the star of the course Hange Zoe and her squad of brainiac nerds.

All of them are notorious for their smart remarks and additions, but no one is quite as annoyingly good at it as Hange Zoe. Her answers are always unnecessarily lengthy and complicated, and she amazes every professor she comes across.

Levi is as annoyed by her loud personality, as he is fascinated by her dedication to the studies.

But he never approached her, never exchanged with her even a single 'hi' or 'do you have the copy of last lecture'. And so the prospect of sitting down next to her makes him more than a little bit nervous.

But professor clears his throat, urging Levi to move. He grits his teeth, but surrenders to his fate and takes a seat just at the edge of a row.

Hange shoots him a quick smile, but then turns her attention to the lecture and doesn't bother him until the very end.

Levi escapes the auditorium as soon as the lecture ends, and hopes this beginning was the end of his and Hange Zoe's relationship.

At the next lecture, he finds out he was wrong.

He makes sure to come early, so Zeke won't take his place once again. And he succeeds - Zeke isn't there.

However... Hange Zoe is.

"Hi!" she waves her hand energetically, her smile far too wide and bright for 8 AM lecture. "You don't mind me sitting here? I liked sitting next to you last time."

Levi doesn't quite understand what Hange liked about last lecture since they haven't exchanged a single word, but her open, friendly face and big eyes quickly render him unable to reject her offer.

"Just keep quiet, four-eyes," he mutters and takes a seat next to her.

And that's how it truly begins. The physiology curse ends and biochemistry starts, and Hange sits next to him there as well.

Soon she starts inviting him to study sessions and house parties, and, even though, he doesn't accept these invitations, Hange still somehow manages to get his phone number, and then begins to bother him even on weekends.

One night, after Levi just tumbles inside his room after a shift at the hospital, he receives a text with a link to some article. He makes a mental note to read it - he rarely replies to texts from Hange, but he always reads them, however as soon as he comes out of the shower, he falls asleep, overcome with exhaustion.

Next morning, he wakes up later than usual, so he doesn't have the time to read the article before his first class. He hopes Hange won't ask him about it, he'd feel bad about ignoring her, but when he comes to his first lecture, he finds Hange already in their usual place, an excited look on her face.

"Good morning!" she greets, as always far too cheerful for a morning class.

Levi grunts something noncommittal and sits down next to her.

There are a few more minutes before the class starts, and Levi entertains himself with sorting out his textbooks. He remembers the article Hange sent him, but reading it while she sits so close might seem rude. So he does nothing, and stares at the front of the auditorium, waiting for the professor to show up.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Hange shift and fidget, more restless than usually. He wants to snap and ask her to stop, but then Hange leans a bit closer, and whispers,

"Hey, Levi, I think our HLA aren't compatible."

Levi frowns and looks up at her, surprised to find that her face is all red.

"What?" he murmurs, utterly confused.

The red on her face becomes even brighter. "I said..."

"I've heard what you said," Levi grits, for some reason feeling just as embarrassed as Hange looks. "I just don't get what you meant by it."

"Oh..." Hange's face falls. "You haven't read the article. Oh, now this is awkward," she chuckles, scratching the back of her head. "Then, um, forget I said anything."

Levi wants to protest, he doesn't want to forget, he wants to find out what made Hange look so shy, but in that exact moment professor enters the room, and he has no choice but to keep quiet.

His curiosity is far from quiet, though, and unable to stop himself, Levi takes out his phone and opens that article.

Not paying attention to the lecture makes him feel awful, but Levi needs to know the reason for Hange's behavior. Besides, he tries to bargain with himself, the article is somewhat linked to microbiology, so technically he doesn't ignore the lecture completely.

The article Hange sent to him is about a study that focused on the importance of human leucocyte antigen and its many variables that appeared after years of battling with various pathogens. It also demonstrated that people are more inclined to find themselves an HLA dissimilar partner and that relationship tend to be more prosperous if partners share only a few of HLA alleles.

And Hange said their HLA weren't compatible... Oh. Now Levi feels his own cheeks heat up.

He reads the article a few more times, making sure that he understood everything correctly.

Then he turns his gaze towards Hange who refuses to even glance in his direction. The time moves with a speed of a snail, and when the professor finally announces the end of a class, Levi exhales in relief.

He had a whole hour to gather his thoughts and think of his next words, but they scatter, when Hange bolts up from her seat and starts frantically packing her belongings.

"Hey..." Levi calls, but Hange doesn't seem to hear him, or, more probably, tries her best to ignore him. "Hey, Hange..." he tries again, but Hange doesn't stop.

Bolder actions need to be implemented, and so Levi raises up too, holding Hange back by the sleeve of her shirt. "Four-eyes..." he begins, forcing himself to swallow his nervousness. "Sorry for not reading the article yesterday, but..." he clears his throat and locks his gaze with Hange. It's good to know that she looks just as flustered as he himself feels. "I think you're right. Based on what I feel, our HLA seem to be mostly dissimilar."

"Oh..." Hange looks lost for no more than a second, Levi envies her composure. A big grin blooms on her face almost instantly, and her eyes fill with joy. "We can discuss it further, if you want... Maybe, have a small study session."

"And go out for coffee," Levi adds, feeling just a little bolder. "I know a great place."

"Mm," Hange bites her lip, glancing at her wrist watch. "I have another class soon, but I'm free after that."

"Alright," Levi says, his mouth twitching in an attempt to hide his smile. "I'll be waiting for you then."

"Great!" Hange laughs, squeezes his shoulder and hurries away. She walks with a spring in her step, and just before exiting the room, she turns around and shoots Levi another happy smile.

"Dork," Levi mutters, as he watches Hange almost collide with another student.

As he gets out of the auditorium at a more slower pace than Hange, he takes out his phone and opens the browser. Perhaps, he should find an article for Hange to enjoy too.

Perhaps, it would allow him not just join her for a study session, but have her agree to a date with him.

Either way, Levi is eager to find out how his story with Hange Zoe will progress.

[luimagines]

I’m wondering how the boys would deal with you getting sick/wounded?

Masterlist

A lot of protectiveness that's for sure! Mixed in with some self doubt and anxiety! But lots of care and gentleness just for you!

Since there isn't a specification, I'll try to write platonically but I'm still on a crush roll so if feels come out or are implied, then I'll take full blame and pass it on to the previous prompt.

I’m gonna try something with this prompt and only write three guys per part. The other parts will be out shortly with the others but I don’t want to only post like once every other week even if I’m trying to write everyday because they’re so many of them. I do want to write them all! But it does take awhile.

SO! If I like this system I’ll keep it but it’s a trial run.

WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, PART 1

Scenario under the cut!

Sky

Sky was running through the forest, slashing down all the monsters that were within his reach.

You, Wild and Twilight on top of Epona ran past him, chasing the black lizalfos that caused this whole mess. He stayed back, knowing that speed wasn't his strong suit. Between all the skeletons, lizards and all the keese that started showing up in the mean time, he was sure that he was more needed here to keep the monsters from reaching you.

He kept his focus on the fight and moved with practiced motions.

Monster began falling under his blade, left and right, front and back. He was no longer paying attention to where his teammates are. Just the motion and and the thrill of the fight to guide him, all other senses forgotten, he missed your cry.

He didn't know you turned back.

He didn't know you came to fight next to him.

He didn't see the monster coming up behind him-

"SKY!" He was suddenly pushed to the side, the ground coming up to meet him with dirt shooting all over his face.

He hears you cry again but in pain, and once again when he hears you hit the ground.

Sky gets to his feet as fast as he can and spins around.

There you are, on the ground, hand clenched around a growing red blotch on your other arm. You're glaring up at the skeleton that came from behind. Your sword is on the opposite side to you, but it doesn't matter much if your dominant arm is out of commission.

The skeleton shakes, as if in laughter even if no sounds comes forth from the monster. Sky sees that the skeleton no longer has its attention on him but on you. It raises its arm, sword raised and sharp and begin to bring it in your direction.

Sky grits his teeth and swings his sword.

Metal clangs against metal and Sky is surprised to see the amount of force that was behind the initial blow. It nearly sends him back to the ground but he merely slides a few inches backwards instead.

He chances a glance down at you and knows that you won't be able to fight beyond what already transpired.

The battle around him lessens somewhat, the sounds dimming until he only hears the blood pumping in his ears.

He's tired.

But Sky was never one to be a quitter. With one final push, he puts al of his weight into his next strike and knocks the skeleton away from their stalemate. While it's struggling to gain its balance, he slices upwards and cuts the entire thing in half.

He takes a step back and glances around the battlefield.

The others are making quick work of the monsters still standing. He trusts them to finish the job so he turns on his heel and kneels beside you.

"Let me see." Sky pulls your hand away from the wound. It goes down your bicep and across your elbow. He can't tell how deep it is, but it's long and bleeding.

"I'll be alright." You try to smile and get up. Sky doesn't let you. "Better me than you anyway."

"Not true." He glares at you. Sky is quick to take out his supplies and bandages and begin to work on your arm. He feels angry even after the monster has been dealt with. You shouldn't have gotten hit. You shouldn't have gotten hit on his account, he amends in his head. "It'll never be true."

"I've had worse." You shrug and hiss when he takes out his personal disinfectant and applies it to your wound. He's running low, but it's the best he can do since he's not the one carrying the healing potions and he can't do what Hyrule does, period.

He doesn't feel good about your answer and by the look on your face, he knows that you know it too.

"Why did you do that?" Sky asks after a moment of silence. He refuses to look at you head on. He knows he's still glaring and he doesn't want to aim it in your direction. He's too tired to try and hide it like he usually would with any other person. You'll just have to put up with it.

"You were gonna get hit." You reply, watching him work. "What was I supposed to do? Just let that happen?"

"You didn't have to take the hit for me. Yelling would have been fine. Let me know that it was there so I could deal with it." He growls.

"I tried." You stress and nearly pull your arm back when he puts a little more pressure on the cut than necessary. He keeps you close though so it's not like you succeed. "I yelled your name like three times. It's not like I wanted to push you face first into the dirt. If I let that thing hit you, you would have been given a way worse hit than this stupid cut on my arm."

Sky flexes his jaw and begins wrapping said stupid cut. He's inclined to believe you and he's sure that you're right. But....

He's allowed to not like it.

"Can you stand?" He asks, letting some of the anger fall from his face. Sky makes a quick evaluation over himself and realizes that he's relatively unharmed. A bit bruised, sure, but nothing worse than that. Certainly no blood drawn on his end.

You nod, grab your sword with your good hand and begin to get up. Out of habit, you instinctually put your wounded hand behind you to stabilize yourself and fall back down in pain.

Sky makes the executive decision to pick you up bridal style and carry you back to the others.

"SKY!" You cry and thrash around. "My injury is on my arm! I can stand just fine!"

He takes one good look at you then and shrugs. "You couldn't even get up. I don't mind."

"It's not about if you mind or not!" You continue. "It's the principle of the thing!"

He doesn't reply. Sky just looks away with a smirk, under the guise of looking for the rest of the group.

You catch on and stutter out some kind of argument but he tunes it out.

He sees Wild and Twilight back, angry and lizardless.

It's fine, he thinks. Because you're all together again and getting closer to figuring this whole thing out while putting a stop to it.

You begin to beg to be let down, unless the others make some kind of comment about it. But Sky feels the little voice inside of him to let it happen anyway.

Pay back for taking his hit.

Better you than him, HA! Not if he has anything to say about it.

Wild

Wild was on a roll!

After a successful dungeon raid (he's getting better that those), a great meal enjoyed by the whole team and no lecture about ditching the group, he on a golden streak! Nothing can get him down!

He continues to have a large grin on his face even after everyone has eaten and begins to settle down for the night. Everyone seems to be in good spirits.... except for you.

After you ate, you tried to keep up with everyone's good fortune and attitude but something felt wrong, you said you didn't feel good so you called it a night early, seemingly forgetting that it was your turn to take first watch.

Wild doesn't think much of it at first and continues with his nightly routine.

It's really only when it's right before he plans on going to bed that he notices something. The others that are still awake are quick to notice it as well and each of them share concerned glances.

You began to curl into yourself as you slept. Nothing weird about that, right? Maybe you were just cold but then... You started to whimper and grunt, like you were scared and in pain. A cough here and then but it doesn't spark any idea of what might be bothering you.

Twilight is the first to get up and make his way toward you but you wake up first, shooting to your feet with a frightening speed and all but stumble and crawl away from the camp.

Wild stands at nearly the same speed and begins to make his way towards you as well.

You don't get very far until you start coughing even more. It's a deep and wet cough that leaves you gasping for air but it continues on.

Then you vomit.

Wild sprint towards you then and helps hold whatever hair he can get to back and away from your face. Twilight is right next to him suddenly and he's rubbing circles on your back while you cry and continue to retch.

A few minutes pass but they feel like an eternity to Wild. He looks over to Twilight and grimaces. "Was it something they ate?"

Because if it was then this is on him. And he doesn't like the thought of causing you any sort of discomfort. Let alone getting you sick.

Twilight only shrugs and helps you stand straighter when you're done throwing up everything that you had eaten the day prior.

You're crying, whimpering and hugging yourself but Wild doubts that you're really aware of what's happening.

He places a hand on your forehead and gasps in shock.

You are absolutely burning up.

"You're sick." His eyebrows furrow and he begins to hold you steady when Twilight leaves you to him.

"...I don't feel good." You reply, but you haven't looked at him. You're eyes are still half lidded and it leads him to believe that you're still somewhat asleep.

"Ok. We'll help you, ok?" He says as he begins to lead you back to your bed roll.

" 'm cold." You say as you move back to where you were sleeping before. "An' everythin' hurts."

"I know. We'll make it better, I promise."

Twilight appears out of nowhere with his wolf pelt and places it over you, helping Wild get you back into your spot and tucks you in.

"Guess we'll stay here tomorrow as well." Twilight mutters. "No use pushing them any further, not like this."

"How long-?" Wild begins to ask but he doesn't know if that's even a question that can be answered. He tries anyway. "How long have they been sick?"

"They were a little weird yesterday..." Twilight admits. "But I didn't think much about it."

"What? Why?" Wild turns to his friend, brother, mentor. "Why not call them out on it? If they're sick-"

"I wasn't sure if I was just seeing things. We're all a little weird from time to time. I can smell a lot but this is always a toss up." Twilight glares a little as he defends himself.

"What do we do then?"

"We do what we can." Time answers from beyond the fire pit. "Some of us can make a supply run to the nearby town we were going to stop at. Get something to help that fever and maybe some tea to help that cough. Being at the town would be the better solution, seeing as the outdoors are not exactly illness friendly but the terrain isn't worth hauling them over. It might even do more damage."

Twilight nods in agreement and stands. "I can take a few of the boys and make a supply run. Get some more things that we might being running low on."

"Got any ideas of who to take?"

"Warrior, Legend and Four. They know the best way around merchants and quality buys. I say they're our best bet for the good stuff."

"I'll pay." Wild pipes up, reaching just beyond your bed roll into his for his sheikah slate.

"Cub, that's not necessary-"

"I'm paying." He growls and takes out a good amount of yellow rupees. "They need medicine. Medicine that we don't have and we can't afford their fever to get any worse."

He all but shoves the cash into Twi's arms and leaves it at that.

Time and Twilight share a look but neither comment on the aggressiveness of it.

There's not a lot of words to be spoken after that. Time takes the first watch and Twilight goes to sleep with a call to wake him up if anything happens. To you or to the group, Wild doesn't know. Knowing Twilight, maybe he means both.

Wild has trouble sleeping and has trouble forcing himself to leave your side.

After much deliberation, a long study of your pained face even as you sleep, he gets up and fixes the fire.

Time simply watches and lets him mess around as he pleases, so long as he's quiet.

Wild doesn't pay attention to him and gets his slate out for the ingredients he's looking for.

He starts by making tea. Honey, lemon bark, ginger, all for the your cough but he hopes that it'll help your fever as well.

When the tea sits and begins to steep, he takes out more cooking supplies and begins to cook more meals for you. All light and mostly fluid. It's a lot of soup.

He can't bring himself to sleep when you might need someone by your side again.

They were lucky the first time that some of them were still awake.

The shifts changes out without his notice. Wild is too busy filling up the inventory that he has with meals that are intended to help you fight this infection.

Day light comes and those who missed it learn of the prior nights events, the plan and get ready to carry it out.

Wild makes a belated breakfast when he realizes that most of the group is awake.

They're all staring at him but he shakes it off.

His highest priority right now is helping you come out of this stronger than before.

He's your personal nurse for the day and until you get better.

The others don't try to fight him on this. They couldn’t even if they tried.

Legend

Legend takes a minute to pause from firing his magic rod. The magic in it leaves him feeling a little drained from the amount of shots he’s been taking but the monsters are thinning out, so he continues plowing forward.

He leaves a particularly nasty looking thing, from an era he doesn’t recognize, as a pile of sloppy purple gluck on the ground.

When he looks up, his heart stops in his throat.

You’re right in front of him, fighting one of the biggest moblins on the scene, alone.

You’re trying to keep yourself on your feet and do some damage to the beast in the process but the blood comes back black, staining your sword and ground around you.

You’re fighting a losing battle.

He makes a run for it and fires what he can at the monster’s back until he’s completely tapped out of his magic.

He switches for his sword and activates his Pegasus Boots, charging directly into the monster’s side, plunging the blade deep within the creature up to the hilt.

“Hey Legend. Fancy meeting you here.” You grit out and slash what you can at the beast.

“Sorry, I should have told you I’m known for being fashionably late.” He fires back and attempts to take back his weapon.

His sword gets stuck on something within the monster and he’s forced to leave it in. The moblin has since been made aware of arriving company and takes a swing that would have taken Legend’s head off. He’s quick to duck under it and he calls out to the others for back up. “THIS ONE’S INFECTED! A LITTLE HELP WOULD BE NICE!”

“What a concept.” You gasp, out of breath and losing steam. “Back up would have been great like five minutes ago.”

“Well I’m here now, aren’t I?” Legend knows he’s quick on his feet and dances around the monster and to your side.

But it’s a miscalculation.

The moblins takes another swing at Legend in the process but since he doesn’t hit his target, his arm arcs outwards and knocks you finally off of your feet and sends you flying across the field with a sickening crack.

Legend stops for a second in shock and stares at where you landed.

You’re not getting up.

Now Legend is the one fighting this thing alone, with his sword still in the side of the monster, back up still not arriving yet and worse yet, the group is now down a number.

He doesn’t have time to reflect how it might be his fault that you’re down.

He hopes you’re not out and that the others comes quickly.

There’s a shot that takes the moblin by surprise when it’s imbedded in his head. Legend can’t risk taking glances around anymore but the quick succession of the blows let him know that Wild has appeared from out of the wood work and has joined him in taking this thing out.

Legend makes around circle around it and reaches for the hilt of his sword. IT”s wet and covered in its blood but he manages to get a grip on it.

He pulls.

He knows that it would have taken a lot to take it out but the blood around it seems to have lubricated the wound and it begins to slide out. As it inches out, Legend has to take another dive out of the way since the moblin swings back his way.

The sword is no longer plugging most of the wound, so it’s more  like a fountain of ink that beginning to paint the forest floor.

Legend suspects that he hit something vital and that the blow would be final if he can get the rest of his sword out.

Luckily, despite the lack of communication, Wild and Legend seem to reach a consensus. Wild distracts the moblin for a while and Legend goes for his sword and takes out as much as he can before the moblin takes his aggression out on him.

Somewhere in the middle of this Warrior has also appeared and begins to add to the distraction while using Legend’s fire rod. This allows Legend to get more time out of the small windows that his team is buying them but the progress if slower than he likes.

The blood on his hands makes it harder for him to get a grip on his sword and his boots are having a hard time gaining purchase on the ground as it turns to bloodied mud. 

Legend makes another dive out of the way and glances over to where you are.

You’re still not moving and no one has reached you yet.

Concern fuels him forward and he makes one last attempt to pull the sword free while the other damage it as much as they can.

It releases.

Legend goes flying backward and onto the ground, making quick work of getting back to his feet and attacking the beast.

The blood around his hands and sword are beginning to dry, almost gluing them together this time as he fights and he fights.

Somewhere along the lines of this, the news of an infected monsters reaching the others, Legend assumes, and one by one the others clamor up to the monster and begin to strike it down.

Now with all of them here, Legend takes a step back and steps out of the fray, leaving the killing blow to be dealt by the majority of the group.

Instead, he runs to your side.

Legend drops to his knees by your side and drop his sword somewhere behind him. He’s quick to take out his bag and rummage through it. He takes out a potion just you groan and roll over.

Legend lets out a sigh of relief, and a curse.

The moblin dies somewhere behind him.

“Legend...” You cry out. “Are you dead?”

He has to keep himself from snorting in disbelief. “Of course I’m not dead! It takes a lot more than that to kill me you know.”

His hands are shaking but your eyes are closed so he doesn’t make a show of trying to hide it. Your hands are over where your ribs are, a bit of red seeping through your fingers, but it doesn’t look major considering the amount of time that’s passed.

The potion will take of it.

“Were you not hit? You’re ok?” You ask in delirium, using all the strength you have left to sit up. Legend is quick to help you and places the potion in your lap with the cork off.

“No, it was really just you that took the hit.” Legend sits back and watches you drink it, slowly and robotically. He takes a minute to look over the rest of you and realizes that you don’t actually have a lot of injuries.

Just a few large hits.

“Oh my god, what happened to you?” You blurt, eyes wide and potion half drunk, threatening to spill over the lip of it with how you’re holding it. “Are you sure you weren’t hit?”

Legend tilts his head and looks down.

He’s absolutely disgusting.

He knows it shows on his face the minute he sees it but he forces himself not to think about it and instead, looks back at you.

“Believe it or not, none of it is mine.”

You stare for a moment or two longer before slowly returning to drink the potion you were given. “Remind me to never piss you off.”

The comment send even more relief through his system, shutting down the last of his adrenaline and he has to laugh. 

Legend has no idea what conclusion you came to but considering the amount of shock and awe on your face by the sight of him, he doesn’t plan on correcting you any time soon.

Part 2 Part 3

[rheawritessometimes]

Hiya! I hope you’re doing well :3 May I request the SFW alphabet with Albedo, Zhongli, and Diluc, letters L,R,Z? Thank youuu!! And dont forget to take care if yourself!

{ Albedo, Zhongli, Diluc x GN!Reader }

{ Summary } SFW Alphabet L, R, and Z. 100 Followers Special

{ Warnings } None

{ Notes } I hope this is okay and didn’t take too long. Also, I hope you don’t mind me not doing another L for Zhongli. Masterlist

{ Word Count } 947

{ Albedo }

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

If Albedo is capable of handling Klee, he can handle any child in Teyvat. He’s become a master at entertaining even the most energetic of children in non-destructive ways, of course, this ability came with a lot of practice. Albedo has somewhat complicated feelings about having children of his own. For one, it’s not known to him if such a thing is even possible considering his origins. Not to mention, he’s fearful of what fate might befall his children should he ever lose control. Albedo can’t help but worry about the unknown future. On the other hand, for him to play a part in the creation of life, just the thought of it makes his heart flutter. He’d make such a good father, but it would take a lot of trust and convincing for him to consider that possibility.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Albedo’s fondest memory is of one of the simple dates you planned early on in your relationship. You had gone out on a perfect summer afternoon and set up two easels across from each other under the tree at Windrise. The premise of the date was simple, you’d paint each other and show your canvases after. The fact you had one of his interests in mind when coming up with the date made his heart warm. He remembered your sheepish smile when you told him yours probably wouldn’t be as good as his, but you prepared a picnic for after to make up for it. It took him a particularly long time to finish painting that day, he spent most of the time just staring in awe, the sunlight filtering through the trees and crystalflies floating around you were the perfect complements to your beauty.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Albedo is often working on his research in his lab deep into the night and needs to be reminded to sleep. However, he is very keen on the importance of sleep and ensures he gets eight hours of sleep every night. If he comes home late, he sleeps in late. It’s a simple matter in his mind, if he is to perform his work to the best of his abilities he needs to be well-rested. Considering the nature of his work, Albedo doesn’t have a strict working schedule so he can come into the lab once he is rested without worrying about being on time. Even if that wasn’t the case, what are they gonna do? Fire Albedo, one of the most genius alchemists of the age? I think not.

{ Zhongli }

L = Little ones (How are they around children?) 

 L for Zhongli can be found here.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

How could Zhongli possibly pick only one when every moment with you shines like gold in his memory? A lot of his time has been spent thinking of the past, of what was and what could have been. Recently he’s found himself changing a little bit. His favorite memory of your relationship is the one he’s living in. Zhongli is so happy being in the moment with you, putting his full focus on the now. A close second is the time he was so absorbed in admiring your expressions as you retold the story of your latest adventure he hadn’t realized he had been pouring tea too long until it overflowed out of the cup, flooded the table, and spilled into his lap. He was thankful that this was his third cup by that time and the tea in the pot had cooled down so his legs were unharmed. Unlike his dignity. But, damn, you were so beautiful in that moment.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Ever the old man at heart, Zongli is early to bed early to rise. It’s hardly ever the case that Zhongli goes to bed when he is tired, it is simply his routine. Once the sun has set, he brews a nice cup of tea, reads a chapter of whatever book he is interested in at the time in bed, then goes to sleep with you. Or without you, if you’re inclined to stay up later. Of course, he isn’t opposed to staying up later with you if that is your preference, but it will be quite the challenge if you wish to break his routine for more than a night or two.

{ Diluc }

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Just thinking about family makes Diluc’s poor heart ache but he wants one so, so badly. Diluc feels he has a responsibility to protect Mondstadt before considering his desires and also thinks it would be selfish to put his family at risk considering the enemies he has made. In a more peaceful time where he doesn’t have to worry about those who wish to hurt him hurting his family, he wouldn’t hesitate to start one with you. Until then, it’s just a seemingly far away dream.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

It may be cheesy, but Diluc’s favorite memory is the one when he was finally certain you returned his feelings. It’s no surprise he has trouble opening up to others, that he has trust issues. It takes a long time and a lot of trust, but once you’ve proven that he can always count on you when it matters and he sees the earnestness in your eyes when you tell him how he feels, his walls come crumbling down for you. He probably cries.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Mondstadt’s beloved Darknight Hero is perpetually exhausted. He’s out late defending the city and up early in the morning to take care of Dawn Winery’s various administrative affairs. It’s even worse during the times he’s expected to host various events for Mondstadt’s nobility. It’s difficult, but you can sometimes convince Diluc to catch up on sleep by coaxing him into napping with you. He won’t say it, but he secretly appreciates it greatly, even more so if you help with some of his responsibilities so he doesn’t fall behind.

[impalementation]

spike, angel, buffy & romanticism: part 4

part 1: “When you kiss me I want to die”: Angel and the high school seasons

part 2: “Love isn’t brains, children”: Enter Spike as the id

part 3: “Something effulgent”: Season five and the construction of Spike the romantic

* 

“But I can’t fool myself. Or Spike, for some reason.”: Buffy and Spike as a blended self

Before I get into seasons six and seven, it’s worth asking: why would the show do all of this? Why would it spend all of this time developing a supporting villain and joke id character? Why would it give him a romantic arc? I see people say that the writers only gave Spike these storylines because he was popular or they wanted to keep him around, but even that being the case, there was no need to give him the specific arc that they did. It’s more than possible to read meaning into the story that they chose from the array of possible options. 

Here is the thing about the id. It’s not actually something separate from you. It’s not a ravenous monster you can blame your weaknesses on while remaining pure and dignified. The id is part of you. The immediate and enduring appeal of Spike is, I suspect, strongly influenced by the fact that the things the id wants are so very human and sympathetic. His foibles and mistakes are often painfully familiar, even exaggerated through vampirism as they are. In fact, it’s precisely because Spike is allowed to show a full range of reactions to love, because the writing is under less pressure for him to do the “right” or dignified thing, that he can at times be compelling in ways other characters can’t. If Spike just did nasty things, his appeal wouldn’t be much more complicated than the appeal of Angelus, who people tend to like as a villain or storyline rather than as a relatable character. But Spike doesn’t want to dismember nuns or construct elaborate murder tableaux. He wants familiar things like love, identity and meaning, even if the ways he goes about getting them can reflect people’s worst impulses. 

Which brings us to Buffy, and Buffy’s story about growing up. Buffy is Buffy’s show, which means that every writing choice tends to revolve around her arc in one way or another. And this goes for Spike’s storyline even more than most. In the final three seasons of the show, the writing finally engages with how inextricable the id--and all of its impulsive, inarticulate romantic desires--really is from a person’s self. So instead of keeping Spike at a comfortable distance, both Buffy and the writing begin to take him seriously. They begin to invite him in.

Starting in season five, it’s telling how frequently Buffy herself projects on Spike, rather than just the writing setting them up as mirrors. She tells him that he’s the “only one strong enough” to protect her family, and later assigns Dawn specifically to his protection. In “Spiral” she describes him as “the only one besides me that has any chance of protecting Dawn.” This is a very intimate role that she otherwise only assigns to herself (and which is not really based on pure practicality, considering that she’ll later describe Willow as her “big gun”--yet never gives Willow the task of protecting Dawn). She tells him that he cannot love, which is the thing she fears most about herself. Her protests that Spike is a vampire, and thus cannot express or want human things like love, mirror her lamentations that as the Slayer, she cannot have a normal life.

From the Gilliland Gothic double essay:

More than any of her other lovers, Buffy and Spike overlap one another so often that at times their character arcs become nearly indistinguishable. With Angel, Buffy traveled a parallel path in attempting to master self-control. With Riley, her journey ultimately took her in the opposite direction. With Spike, Buffy’s journey is most closely shadowed, in that her interactions with him in many ways can be seen as metaphors for her feelings about herself.

So now Spike is multiple things. On the one hand, he’s the soulless id he’s been since season two. His vampiric behavior represents a morally uninhibited way of reacting to romantic frustrations, among other things. But on the other hand, his vampirism now also marks him as like Buffy, not merely her opposite.* Nor is he only her mirror in the realm of romantic love. The part of him that is a vampire is the part of him that is supernatural (ie, Romantically larger-than-life), that sets him apart from regular people, and dictates how he can and cannot behave. Just like Buffy’s slayerness. His vampirism is what makes him capable of protecting Dawn, while also making him (supposedly, according to Buffy) incapable of human feeling--again, just like Buffy’s slayerness. Instead of Buffy’s Slayer side being aligned with Angelus, who was an unmitigated evil, it becomes aligned with Spike, who is something more complicated. 

*(Though it must be noted that this was a process that began in season four, with the show aligning Spike with the Scoobies by making him a victim of the Initiative. Spike being supernatural suddenly marks him as non-normative, just like the Scoobies, in contrast to the institutional conformity that the Initiative represents. The evolution towards treating the Romantic supernatural as something positive and associated with identity plays a key role in transitioning the show to the more complicated attitudes of the last three seasons.)

This shift in the show’s attitudes towards the id affects how Spike is used. In “Blood Ties” for example, Spike assists Dawn in breaking into the Magic Shop and in “Forever” he helps Dawn resurrect her and Buffy’s mother. In both cases, Spike could be read as embodying impulsive behavior that Buffy is supposed to be better than. Yet both cases specifically involve Spike helping Dawn, who is repeatedly portrayed as Buffy’s human side. As Buffy says in “The Gift”: “[Dawn]’s more than [my sister]. She’s me. The monks made her out of me. [...] Dawn is a part of me. The only part that I--”. In other words, Buffy’s id becomes closely tied to her humanity, even going so far as to become its safeguard. “Blood Ties” ends with Buffy affirming her connection to Dawn, which Spike’s rule-breaking directly enabled, and “Forever” ends with Buffy acknowledging how desperately she wants her mother back too, and becoming closer to Dawn as a result. (Compare to “Lovers Walk”, where Buffy acknowledging her id results in her breaking away from Angel, not drawing closer to anyone). Or in “Intervention”, Spike building the Buffybot directly parallels Buffy’s own anxieties about what she thinks she should be. She thinks she’s losing her ability to love, and that effusive fakery is her only recourse (as she said in “I Was Made to Love You”: “Maybe I could change. [...] I could spend less time slaying, I could laugh at his jokes. I mean men like that right? The joke laughing at?”), a fear that even has some merit, given that her friends cannot tell her and the bot apart. Instead of Buffy and Spike having separate arcs in the episode, Spike learning the difference between real and fake dovetails with Buffy’s own relationship to her realness and fakeness. It turns out that neither of them want a bot version of Buffy. They want real emotion, things like sacrifice and heartfelt gratitude. If even Buffy’s id would let itself be killed for Dawn, then maybe she has nothing to fear from herself. Maybe there is some beauty in the emotional part of her nature that she thinks she must repress.

In other words, part of the writing (and Buffy) fully engaging with romanticism and the id, means engaging with the ways they can be bad and good. There’s this weird thing that happens with Spike as soon as he falls in love with Buffy, where suddenly his actions are more uncomfortable, and to many, off-putting, because their object is Buffy (instead of another vampire like Harmony or Drusilla, who either enjoy the same vampiric things he does, or the audience might be inclined to see as a moral nonentity regardless). His comic id quality becomes somewhat darker and more serious, almost like the way Angel’s early season two darkness becomes more serious after he loses his soul. But at the same time, Spike’s actions are also more intriguing, sympathetic, and even noble...because their object is Buffy. It makes no sense that a soulless vampire should not only fall in love with the Slayer, but genuinely attempt to transform himself into someone worthy of her love. And yet that’s exactly what Buffy inspires him to do. By loving Buffy Spike’s dual nature, and the dual nature of his romanticism, is thrown into relief: it’s something that can be selfish and creepy, yes, but also something that hints at the idea that real romanticism does exist. Something worth feeling romantically about does exist. Thus the writing can at once criticize, say, the way the chivalric mindset conflates love and suffering, while also suggesting that there are kinds of love it’s worth being transformed by. (Meanwhile, Spike’s fumbling bewilderment over how to love Buffy, and what the rules of loving people correctly even are, creates a human middle ground between monstrousness and heroism). By leaning into the way that Buffy and Spike have been used as mirrors for three seasons, and introducing the mythology-bending idea of Spike being in love with Buffy, the writing is able to fully engage with this complicated, contradictory nature of love and romance.

All of which is to say. Spike becomes a potential love interest, and is given a convoluted inner conflict between monstrousness, humanity and heroism, in precisely the season in which Buffy begins to reckon with her own inner conflict between her darker impulses, her human reality, and her supernatural role. It’s no coincidence that season five opens with Dracula, an icon of romantic vampire mythology, tempting Buffy with darkness and promising her insight into her nature. Or that a vampire kidnaps Dawn--again, her human half--in the next episode. Or that the season’s antagonist is a super-strong blonde woman who wants to destroy Dawn instead of protect her. Or that she says goodbye to Riley, the boyfriend who embodied her hopes for a more normative way of being (notice how Riley is progressively destabilized by everything non-normative about Buffy’s life, and provokes those anxieties Buffy expresses in “I Was Made to Love You”). Over and over in season five, Buffy fears that her Slayer half is cold, destructive, and otherwise dangerous. That these Romantic things like gods and vampires have it in for Buffy’s vulnerable humanity. Yet Buffy’s vampire id simultaneously gives lie to these fears by proving itself capable of heroism and genuine human feeling.

In other words, Spike becomes a potential love interest in a season that treats the Romantic--ie the grand and mythical--as something more than just an attractive lie to be disabused of. Rather, the question that season five seems to posit to me, and which will not be fully answered until the end of season seven, is this: once you do clear away the attractive lies, once you accept the hard realities, once you’ve seen the darkest underbellies, what are the things that are left that are truly grand and beautiful? What are the stories that are really worth telling, and the heroes that are really worth having?

And the show asks and answers these questions on both a very personal level, and a more meta, systemic level. On the personal level, Buffy and Spike are forced to confront their illusions not just about the world, but about themselves. They are made to ask themselves what constitutes a heroic role or a demonic weakness, versus basic, unromantic humanity. And on the meta level, the show asks questions about our expectations for how both love stories and chosen hero stories are supposed to go.

part 5: “Everything used to be so clear”: Season six and the agony of the real

[istanleyff7]

TOTP, Episode Aerith, Scenes 10-14

Final Fantasy VII Remake: Traces of Two Pasts Episode 2: Aerith Scenes 10-14 A Light Novel by Kazushige Nojima Translated by Stanley (@istanleyff7 on twitter)

Scene 10

It was the third day. The sun had set entirely, and Elmyra hadn't returned home yet. Aerith hadn't eaten anything after the bread and soup from noon. What should she do if she became any hungrier? Should she head downstairs to search for food? But suppose she did that at her convenience without asking her? In that case, Elmyra might dislike her for it — After thinking about things like that, there was an indication of the door opening.  

"It's me," the grumpy voice of Elmyra could be heard.

"I'll be prepping the food right away."

"Okayyyy."

However, there was no response. As Aerith sat down on the chair and waited quietly, the noise and the whiff from the cooking wafted over. Aerith then took out a collapsible table from the closet and set it up, imitating how Elmyra does it. Eventually, Elmyra came upstairs with a tray of a warm bean dish and bread.

"Thanks for waiting."

"Ahh!!"

Seeing Elmyra, Aerith shrieked involuntarily. A sizable plaster was stuck on her right eyebrow and the outer corner of her eye.

"I had a little fall. Don't worry about it."

After transferring the food from the tray to the table, Elmyra mumbled something from her mouth and then started eating. It seems that she doesn't want to talk about it in detail. If that's the case...

"Thank you for the food!"

Aerith started eating as cheerfully as possible.

"It's delicious!"

"It's canned food."

"Canned food is delicious."

"Whoever made it would probably be glad to hear it, perhaps."

"Who made this?"

"A Shinra factory. Well then, have your meal quietly."

After hearing that the canned food was a Shinra product, the joy in Aerith plummeted.

Without a moment's delay, Elmyra then said, "It's difficult to live without Shinra's products. I can't bake bread at home without ingredients and fuel from Shinra. You have to come to terms with it."

"What does 'come to terms' mean?"

"You probably somewhat got it, didn't you? Did you forget? I told you to have your meal quietly."

There was irritation in her voice, and Aerith was regretful. However, if her efforts to enjoy her meal had gone to waste, she also thought she shouldn't hold back anymore.

"Okay. But, tell me one thing. Elmyra, where do you go after breakfast?"

Elmyra stopped her eating hand and fixed her eyes on Aerith. However, she looked down at the plate after several seconds, she again put the beans in her mouth. Aerith couldn’t read Elmyra’s expression at all, and she didn't know what to do anymore.

"I used to bring along this table to a lot of picnics."

It seems that she was interested in having a conversation. Elmyra's voice was gentle.

"Picnic? I know what that is!"

"Even though I say so, it's still the slums. As much as possible, I would go to places without people and monsters, have a ham and cheese sandwich and even drink a little alcohol."

"Seems fun!"

"It really is."

Elmyra's expression became gloomy, and Aerith panicked. She cannot let this fun conversation come to an end.

"Did you go alone?"

"Nope, that's not the case."

Elmyra placed the bread back on the plate, went out of the room. She then entered her room along the corridor. Shortly after, she returned to the room, holding a photo frame in hand and held it out to Aerith. The photograph projected Elmyra snuggling up close with a man Aerith didn't know, with the upper half of her body. They were sandwiched in between this small table. The man's face and build were robust in comparison to the slender Elmyra.

They both looked like they were happily laughing.

"Clay Gainsborough. He's Gabriel's only son and my husband."

"Your husband!? I know what a husband is! A husband is a wife's important person. A wife is a husband's important person."

Elmyra let out a giggle.

"Yes, he's my husband and an important person to me. You can address him as 'Clay' when he comes back. He likes children, so he would welcome you."

"Where is Clay now?" Aerith asked as she looked at the photograph.

There was no response. When Aerith lifted her head, she saw Elmyra's face, which looked like she was about to cry. She then forcibly put up a smile once they made eye contact.

"He went to war. I got a letter saying that he would be coming home because he took work leave. It's already been six days since he was supposed to be back. The day I met you was the third day."

Aerith understood Elmyra's strange behaviour.

"Do you go to the station every day?"

"Yea... From morning till evening. I probably look like a moron."

"Not at all," Aerith shook her head.

"There’s no point asking Shinra where he is. They tell me something like the trooper's whereabouts is a secret. Shinra surely isn’t flexible at all."

"Clay is a Shinra trooper?"

"Yes, that's right. I should have talked about this first. It's my bad. This household actually has a deep involvement with Shinra."

Aerith's body stiffened.

"But don't worry. Clay and I, we won't do things like ratting you out to Shinra. Aerith, even though I don't know the situation, I'll never forget the desperate look of your mother. We won't do such things to betray you."

"Okay."

To hide her feeling of uneasiness, she hid both cheeks with her hands. However, Elmyra left her eyes fixed on the photo frame and continued her story.

"Clay volunteered to be a Shinra trooper to avoid public criticism that the Gainsborough household was getting preferential treatment from Shinra. Gabriel objected to it, but Clay had already decided, and he stuck to his choice. They haven't spoken to each other since then. I had to go back and forth between these two men to convey things to them."

"Clay and Gabriel, they didn’t get along well?"

"They clashed often, but they had the same personality."

If they had the same personality, maybe that’s why they became like this. Aerith didn't really understand that. However, she saw Elmyra's gentle look as she spoke. It made her inclined to believe that even though Clay was a Shinra trooper, he probably was a good Shinra trooper.

"Aerith, isn't there anything you'd like to talk to me about? Regarding things that are better if I know them?"

There are plenty of things that she should talk about. However, she should probably tell the truth. That she is a Cetra. That people refer to her as an Ancient.

She recollected the various tales of the Cetra that she heard from Ifalna. Elmyra was a good person, and there was no mistaking that. She was not only all words, and she acted upon to help strangers. Clay was also undoubtedly a good person. In the photograph, he had the same smile as Elmyra. However, people may change if she told them she's an Ancient. The Shinra Company wanted to know the secrets of the Ancients, and that was why everyone was gentle and kind. If they were to reveal their true self, everyone would probably be the same as Professor Hojo. They would be itching to inject needles and cutting skin off.

"My mummy and I were captured by this crazy scientist and locked up in the Shinra Building. My mummy had a lot of experiments done on her, that's why she became sick. If I were to be captured by Shinra, that would be me. That's why I want to be here. I also like it here—the house and the garden too. I will also eat Shinra's canned food, so Elmyra, please..."

Elmyra looked at Aerith with her mouth wide open. Shortly after, she reached out her hands across the small table and wrapped them around Aerith's.

"Is there even such a thing? No... there probably is. Yea, of course, you don't have to go back. I promise that I won't do anything that you would hate. Well then, shall we finish eating?"

The two ate quietly. And before long...

"There is a guest coming tomorrow, so I'll probably be cooking for the first time in a while. I like to cook, but it's troublesome if I cook alone for myself. Now that you're here, it'll be good if I cook more, right?"

"I... want to cook! I'd like to help!"

"I’m not sure about that... The kitchen is on the first floor. I think it's still too early for you. "

Aerith was dejected, but she soon looked up.

"That guest... What kind of person is he?"

"That guest... He's Meguro, the second in charge."

"Me-gu-ro-the-second-in-charge."

"Yes. I have to also talk about our family's business, and I’ll tell you about it tomorrow."

And then, after Elmyra finished her meal, she asked casually, "You probably are missing your mummy, aren't you?"

Scene 11

"At that time, I didn't feel things like longing or loneliness. When nightfall arrives, we'll be able to meet. And even if we weren't able to meet, she's connected with the Planet. I could believe that. Moreover, inside the pouch that I received from my mother was a materia. It does nothing other than shining a dim white light. It's not good for anything at all. But when I have it with me, I feel calm."

"It's good for something after all, isn't it?"

"Ahhh, I guess so!"

Aerith touched the knot in her hair at the back of her head. The materia from that time was still with her.

"I wonder who you will pass it on to..." Tifa uttered.

She didn’t understand what she meant at that moment..

"Hey, Tifa."

"Hmmm?"

"I haven't even thought about that before."

There might come a day where she would no longer be ‘the final descendant of the Cetra'. She imagined that scenario in astonishment and fixed her eyes on Tifa. She then flustered ―

"Sorry, I said something strange. Well then, may you tell me the rest of the story? About the second-in-command?..."

Scene 12

Unexpectedly, Aerith was allowed to sit at the lunch table. She was called to the table on the first floor. Meguro then got up from his chair and requested a handshake. Meguro was a plump and cheerful-eyed adult. He looked much older than Elmyra.

"This is Meguro, the second-in-charge. He's Gabriel's right-hand man, Clay's childhood friend, and he's an excellent advisor of mine."

"Good afternoon Mr Meguro. I'm Aerith."

"I heard it from Elmyra. It must have been tough for you."

Aerith was startled, and she looked at Elmyra.

"Meguro is fine. Even if I keep this from him, he's a well-informed and intuitive person. He'll get information from somewhere right away and notice it. That's why I thought it'd be better if I break it to him early on."

Aerith was unhappy about it. It was supposed to be a secret between the both of them. However, since it came to that, there was nothing she could do.

"Aerith. Shinra is making a fuss about you and your mother. In connection to that, there are also occurrences of kidnapping. There's a despicable gang that kidnaps the girls in the slums and tries to make money off it."

"How do they make money? There's probably no way they can fool Shinra."

"Of course, but there are also a bunch who would purchase the girl that Shinra is searching for. It's probably not too tricky to deceive greedy, mean bastards."

Meguro faced his giant body towards Aerith. "You're six years old, no, seven."

"I'm seven."

"Is that so? I also have a seven-year-old daughter. Her name is Rona. That's why this case is not just any other person's problem, and hence this is my suggestion. You two are to be parent and child from now on. Aerith to not be sneaking around, but to go out with Elmyra boldly. You both will meet people and introduce yourselves. You will..." Meguro said as he pointed at Elmyra.

"You will say this. This child was born before you married Clay. She was entrusted to your relatives, but you and Clay decided to live with her. That's about it."

"Hold up a second," Elmyra objects. "I don't understand your point."

"The purpose is to get Aerith known by the neighbourhood and to make them recognise that this child lives here. If she lives in hiding and is taken away by kidnappers and Shinra, no one would probably notice. Elmyra, you probably are acquainted with all the inhabitants in the vicinity, aren't you? If she becomes your daughter, everyone should take notice."

"I see. If that's the case, what about being a relative's child? Or a child who’s adopted from the orphanage? Isn't that good too?"

"The orphanage is just a short distance away. Why would you want to adopt one from there? You wouldn't want to be pried on things like that. Well, however, if she's adopted from a relative, that should be fine. That's right. That would be natural. Well, I think..." Meguro squinted his eyes and looked at Elmyra. "I think you should be addressed as 'Mummy'. Just like how Gabriel made me call him 'Dad'."

Meguro then shifted his gaze to Aerith.

"I was an orphan, and Gabriel picked me up and raised me like his son. Aerith, what do you think? While you're here as the family's child, you'll live as Clay's and Elmyra's daughter."

"I'd like that too."

It seems like an excellent idea. Even if Aerith asks for help now, clearly, no one will care. Just like when she was looking for a doctor at the station. But if she were the daughter of Elmyra Gainsborough, that would be a different story. Elmyra was still thinking about it. Please, Elmyra.

"I think it's a good idea, but this is not just important to Aerith but also for the Gainsborough family. I can't immediately make a decision."

"Well, give it a good thought. Anyways, if Aerith is to go out, it'll be good for her to change her name. Yup, please give this some thought."

Change her name? Aerith was confused at the unexpected suggestion.

"By the way, Elmyra, is the scar on your face Carlo's doing?"

Elmyra looked at Aerith with a side glance.

"Even if I’ve hidden it, you probably already knew about it, right?"

Meguro proudly snorted.

"That guy is a problem. I can't even guess how he became an in-charge."

"With Gabriel gone, he probably thinks that Clay would approve him. Moreover, I'm his representative. He believes that if he threatens a woman, she will cry and give him her signature."

"We have to tighten the whole organisation a little then."

Meguro made a serious face.

"Clay will probably succeed Gabriel, right?"

"Yes. He's taking his work leave this time to talk to you about it."

"No, no, he likely took it to meet his beloved. Business is just an excuse."

Meguro laughed happily and then stood up.

"Leave Carlo to me. And let's talk about the whole organisation after Clay returns."

Scene 13

"After Meguro went off, I was informed about the Gainsborough family business. Gabriel was a manager who manages workers at the construction site. They call him 'The Recruiter'."

"Ahhh, I've heard of this."

"He had been doing this work since the beginning of the Midgar's construction. There are other people in the same profession, but everyone moved onto the plate once it was erected. Only Gabriel and his subordinates remained in the slums. The slums support the plate, and there are many facilities in the slums, aren't there? When that time comes when repair or construction work requires manpower, the Gainsborough family will be contacted."

Aerith gestured and drew a triangle before Tifa's eyes and points at the apex ―

"Gabriel was the first in charge. Clay and Meguro were the second in charge, and they supported the first in charge. The third in charge consisted of six people, and each of them had their own men. They gathered them, and moved under the instructions of the second in charge. Carlo, the hooligan, was like Clay's sworn younger brother."

Scene 14

"Do you understand, Aerith? In other words, this is a very important matter for you," Elmyra said as she placed her hands on Aerith' shoulders.

"Most of the family's work comes from Shinra, and my husband is also a trooper from Shinra. With that, do you still want to be here?"

Elmyra was waiting for an answer with a serious face. She was different from Ifalna and talked to Aerith about anything. That's why Aerith had to think and respond to her thoroughly.

"They are our clients, but it doesn't mean that we adore them. You don't have to worry about that."

It would be a lie to say that Aerith wasn't bothered by the fact that the household has such close relations with Shinra. But if she wasn't okay with it, she couldn't stay here. What should she do? What does she want to do? She looked at Elmyra. Her skin and hair were drier than Ifalna, and she could see that she was tired. She still hadn't removed the plaster on her face. The wound inflicted by Carlo, whom Ifalna happened to bump into on the way back from the station, seemed painful. She went to the station to wait for Clay. She really wanted to see him. And that very same Elmyra fixed her eyes onto Aerith. Even though things are tough on her, she still thought about Aerith's feelings.

Aerith realised it and hurriedly asked what she should have confirmed first.

"Elmyra, won't this trouble you? If I stay here, would it be okay?"

"What are you talking about? Of course."

Without knowing how to express her relief and delight, Aerith hugged Elmyra. She pressed her face onto Elmyra's flat stomach, and Elmyra wrapped her arms around Aerith's back and brought her close for an embrace.

"Well, Clay and I don't have any experience in raising children. We've only learnt by watching others while doing the family's business. We can't say that we know much. There will probably be troubles along the way, and there's a chance Shinra may find you. But let's come up with a solution with everyone when that time comes. By everyone I mean Clay, Meguro, myself and you, Aerith."

Aerith nodded with her forehead still pushed on Elmyra's belly.

“Hey, Aerith. Can you call me 'Mummy'? Of course, you don't have to be serious about it because you only have one mummy."

"Mummy," Aerith tried saying while her forehead remained pressed.

"What was that?"

"Mummy."

"Once more."

"Mummy?"

"It's ticklish, but I don't think it's bad. What do you think?"

Aerith looked up, and she saw Elmyra's gentle face."

"It isn't bad!" Aerith imitated.

Elmyra let out a big laugh. The atmosphere in the room seemed like it started dancing.

↞↠

Ifalna appeared during nighttime, and Aerith told her about the happenings in the day. Ifalna closed her eyes and nodded with satisfaction.

"I'm glad, Aerith."

"But... I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologising?"

"After all..."

From the time after Aerith saw her face, she had feelings of guilt.

"I'm okay with it. Rather than thinking about me, I want you to have a good time. How's your new name coming along?"

"Elmyra told me to think about it myself."

"I see... Do properly give it thought. That name will be your ticket to freedom."

"Okay..."

"To me, I'll miss the name that I'm familiar with and cherish. But you'll always be Aerith. My adorable Aerith. That will not change."

"Really?"

"Of course."

Ifalna's figure wavered for a moment. Aerith panicked and called out to stop her.

"You know what, Mummy? What should I do if Clay doesn't want me? What should I do if he dislikes me and would be angry at me if I stay in this house? And if he says that, he'll return me to Shinra..."

"I think it'll be fine. He's the husband that Elmyra chose, after all, right?"

"Yup, that's right."

Her uneasiness did not precisely go away.

"I wonder where Clay is..."

"That's true... I'll try searching for him."

"Okay, please."

↞↠

It was the following morning. Aerith was drinking tea with Elmyra on the first floor. An old man with a small stature came to visit. He was Butch, a third in command. The wrinkles imprinted on his entire dark-skinned face was impressionable.

"Good morning Butch. You came earlier than the agreed timing, didn’t you?"

"Sorry. It's my bad. Shall I come back again?"

"No, no, it doesn't matter."

She handed over the documents she had prepared. These are the documents necessary for the job. After Butch confirmed its contents, he nodded with satisfaction and placed them inside a tattered bag.

"And, who is this child?" Butch asked Elmyra as he looked at Aerith.

"Ahhh, I have to introduce her, right?"

"She's my cousin's daughter, but my cousin passed away. So I decided to adopt her."

"She doesn't have a father?"

"Eh? Ah. Yes, yes. She doesn't."

Elmyra couldn't hide her nervousness.  Butch squinted his eyes and looked at Elmyra. He then turned them to Aerith. It was the first time that Aerith saw such a wrinkled face. His thin eyes were like a part of his wrinkles.

"Hey, young girl, what's your name?"

She was fascinated by his wrinkles, that when she was suddenly asked a question, she was shaken. And then...

"I'm Rona. Nice to meet you, Mr Butch."

After she said that, she thought she was done for. It was too late. Rona was the name of Meguro's daughter, and Butch definitely knew that too. Elmyra also became flustered.

"Ahhhh, what a coincidence."

Unsure if Butch saw their nervousness, he vaguely nodded.

"Nice to meet you, Rona."

After saying that, the old man went home.

"I'm beat."

Elmyra held her own head.

"I'm sorry, I didn't properly decide on it."

"No, no, I wasn't prepared."

Elmyra knelt on the floor and met Aerith's gaze.

"I should have expected that Butch to come early. He normally does. And also, the name too. I thought that the important thing about a new name is that it should be decided on your own, and I left it up to you, but of course, you need help with this. You're seven. Yeah, that's right."

That's right. Elmyra took a broom in her hand and started sweeping the floor while muttering to herself numerous times. It seems that doing the house chores calms her down. Shortly after, she poured Aerith a new glass of tea and invited her over.

“The next guest is Rodin. He's the same as Butch, a third in charge. He may be light-hearted at times, but deep down, he's a good kid."

"He's a kid?"

"No, no, he's only a lot younger than I am. And also, Aerith. He's scheduled to come here in the evening. I want to go to the station before that. There's a chance that Clay might come back. My bad, but may you hide on the second floor until I'm back? It'll be a problem if an unexpected guest comes over, isn't it?"

"Okay."

"It's fine if I bring you along, but it's probably still too soon for that."

"I'm alright with that. I do like the second-floor."

"Your name... Do think about it. I think it's fine if we talk to Butch about the situation. Rona is fine too, but it's still not an issue to change your name now. I'll be thinking about it along the way, so let's discuss and decide on it later on."

Elmyra mentioned that before she came back, no matter who might come over, be it even though it's Rodin, she was not to open the door or to give a reply. She then left the house. Aerith thought they were like the mother squirrel and the child squirrel she saw in picture books. She recalled the fate of these squirrels and hurriedly ran upstairs.

She intended to think about her name right away. However, she thought about Butch's wrinkles. She was surprised she thought about wanting to try touching it someday. She was also curious about Meguro's belly. What exactly did he stuff in there? Is it soft? Is it hard? Rona is also probably a big child, isn't she? Even if she changed her name, she had already introduced herself to Butch as "Rona", would problems not arise? If Meguro knows about this, would he be angry? She wondered how Rona would react to it too. How is Rona as a child? When will it be the day that she meets Rona? Will she get along with her?

As she thought about those things ― and she dozed off numerous times ― evening came. There was the sound of the door opening, and Elmyra cheerfully called out, "Come down."

There's good news, was it!?

Aerith noisily ran downstairs to welcome Elmyra, who was holding a paper bag with both hands.

"Welcome home!"

"Yes, I'm back."

"Welcome home~!"

"Alright, that's enough," Elmyra laughed as she placed the paper bag onto the table. When Aerith looked into it, she found lots of vegetables and fruits that she had never seen. "The vegetables were cheap today, so I brought home lots of them. It's been a while since I hung around at the market. What did you do today?"

"I thought about Rona, about what kind of kid she is."

“She’s a good kid. You’ll also have a chance to meet her in this house.”

After that, Aerith also asked questions about Rona. Elmyra listened with her back facing her, and she replied while starting to put away the vegetables in the food storage area in the fridge. She already stopped smiling. Her voice was also no longer lively. It was because Clay also didn't come back today.

The doorbell rang.

"It's Rodin."

Aerith felt a sense of relief. Elmyra probably did too.

Rodin was a young man around 20-years old. He was tall and slender and had big blue eyes and wavy blonde hair.

"Hello," Rodin gave Elmyra a small greeting.

He noticed Aerith right away.

"Hey, Rona. Nice to meet you. I'm Rodin, one of the third in charge."

After Aerith was called ‘Rona’, she flinched. He opened the bag he slung on his shoulders, and held out a thin book.

"Nice to meet you. Here's something I brought from Butch."

"Thank you."

On the cover of the book that she received, the words 'Let's play with letters' was printed in large font. Without thinking, she swelled up her cheeks. That book, which gathered the characters Midgar uses, was the same study book that she was assigned to study in the Shinra Building.

"Eh? Don't you like it? Butch chose it, but... That man, he cares about this kind of stuff more than you would think, so I'll keep this a secret."

"I'm happy about the book. But I thought I had to study."

"Is that so? Well, you're the same as me then. I'm also bad at studying. I'm pretty okay with reading, but writing... Especially Kanji, it'll be good if it doesn't exist."

"Rodin, don't tell her such weird things. Well... Rona. Read the book upstairs. We have to talk about business."

After replying as vibrantly as possible, she went to the second floor, looking like she was escaping. She felt uneasy every time she was addressed as Rona.

After Rodin went off, Elmyra apologised for not coming up with a good name and not taking the time to talk with her about it before Rodin came. And then...

"What do you think about the name 'Rona'? Do you like it?"

"Yes. I like it."

"Well then, shall we go with that?"

"Okay."

↞↠

You’re on page 66/142 of Aerith’s segment of the Light Novel. Next Scenes: Scenes 15-21 Previous Scenes: Scenes 5-9 Back to Content Page (click/tap here)

follow @istanleyff7​ on twitter for updates  support the TOTP translation project financially here (click/tap here)

[five-rivers]

Loved Chapter 5

Sort of wanted to do something more elaborate with this, but it just wasn't happening. Meh.

.

“But you aren’t really real, are you?”

Tucker’s question killed the mood fast than a bullet. Danny and Sam stared at him from their side of the blanket nest.

“You want to rephrase that?” asked Sam, glaring, arms crossed.

“Uh,” said Tucker, sweat starting to form on his upper lip. “I mean, clearly you’re real, just… maybe not entirely physical? You, it’s,” he made a sort of twisting gesture with one of his hands. “People who aren’t from here can’t see you. They can’t even touch you. That sort of implies that you’re not on the same level of reality as them.” He shrugged. “You call the other place the Dream, right? Maybe you’re in, like, a kind of daydream or something.”

Danny twisted a corner of a blanket in his hands. “No,” he said.

“Danny,” started Tucker.

“No,” repeated Danny. “I can’t—” He noticed he was breathing heavily, his eyes unfocused enough that he could see—No. “Tucker, I don’t—I don’t think I even have free will anymore.” No matter how much he Loved Clockwork and craved Love in return, no matter how glad he was that the dark future would never come to pass, that grated at times. “I need—” He gulped air.

(Before, if he was this panicked, his heart would be thundering in his chest. Now, it was far too quiet.)

Sam put a hand on his back, steadying. Tucker reached out, too, but hesitated, unsure.

“I need to be real,” he said. He needed to still exist, still be human, at least in part. He couldn’t lose that, too. No matter what else he might gain.

“You are real,” said Tucker. “I’m sorry, I—” He cursed lightly under his breath, “—I wasn’t thinking. It’s just… Maybe something you should think about. Maybe—Maybe you aren’t coming completely out of… I don’t know. Wherever you go.”

“Maybe,” said Danny, struggling to get his breathing back under control. “Maybe. I just. Not right now.”

“Okay,” said Tucker. “Yeah. What were we talking about before?”

“Who cares?” asked Sam. “Let’s watch a movie.”

“That sounds good,” said Danny.

.

Danny woke up first the next morning, which was somewhat unusual. Sam was definitely a night-owl, but Tucker woke up fairly early. He stepped over them, feet silent on the floor. Almost as if they weren’t really there.

He shook his head. Not now.

He went to the bathroom and took care of things slowly, deliberately, as if to impress upon his body that he was human.

Sam and Tucker still weren’t awake when he came back. Also, when he thought about it, the rest of the house was eerily silent as well.

No… There was music. Was that coming from outside? He closed his eyes to listen better and caught himself drifting off while standing.

That was abnormal. He knelt and shook Sam and Tucker’s shoulders. They didn’t stir.

Someone was here. And they were here without Danny knowing. That was bad. That was really bad.

He went to his parents’ room. They were asleep, too.

There was a nonzero possibility that he was the only one awake. (Assuming he had ever been awake in the first place and not, as Tucker put it, daydreaming.)

He went out, following the music. Music suggested Ember, but this didn’t seem to be her style. She preferred motion, energy, vibrance. This was quieter, subtler.

Then again, none of the others made sense.

(At least, Danny liked to pretend they didn’t.)

The music wasn’t louder outside, but it was clearer. The scent of something sweet floated on the air. Something warm. Like honey.

Was something buzzing?

Danny shook his head again, forcing himself back into awareness. Maybe he should try and figure out what was going on from inside the Dream. It wasn’t possible to fall asleep there. At least, Danny never had.

(Assuming he wasn’t always partially in the Dream, like Tucker said.)

On the other hand, it often helped to observe what was going on in the real world, on the surface of things, before diving. As messy as fights could be in the real world, winning them in the Dream was harder.

He forged on, periodically pinching himself. He wasn’t the only one on the streets, but he was the only one on the streets that wasn’t passed out. It looked like there had been some car crashes.

That’s when he saw her.

She stood in the middle of an intersection, looking away from him. She was built like a centaur, except the lower part of her body more closely resembled a massive deer than a horse. An elk, perhaps. Both her deer-portion and her human-portion had night-black skin, studded with white stars. Antlers curved and branched above her curly hair. A crown of red flowers sat on her head. She wore no other clothes.

Danny did not notice any of this at first. No, what first jumped out at him was the unmistakable chain of Love binding him to her and vice versa.

He’d never met anyone like this, so—

She turned to face Danny. But she didn’t have a face. She had a mask. A well-made mask that had both eye-holes and a mouth with lips that seemed to curve. It was also covered with pulsing, swirling, hypnotic patterns. Black and white chased each other across the mask, not respecting the mask’s physical curves.

Danny could feel his mind start to go fuzzy. Felt the ground go soft under him as he sank into the Dream. A distant part of him wanted to look away, but the rest of him could only blink slowly, captivated.

“Come,” she said in a fascinating combination of an out-loud voice and a True Voice, tugging lightly on the chain that attached Danny to her.

Danny complied, trotting out into the intersection. When he was most of the way there, she turned away again.

“Follow,” she ordered.

Danny did, vaguely noting how rapidly the sidewalks and concrete buildings of Amity Park flowed into smoothly rolling hills covered in grass and flowers. The air grew heavier. Hotter. The perfume of the flowers combined with the buzzing of the bees and the gentle music served to make Danny even drowsier than before.

Still, he could hardly nod off in this situation, walking behind her, Love connecting them.

Sluggishly, belatedly, a name came to mind. “Nocturne,” he said. The name tasted like milk and honey, like chamomile tea, like sleep. She stopped and inclined her head slightly towards him. “You’re different from before.”

“We haven’t met,” she said. Then she turned more fully, the lips on her mask curving into a smile. “Has our parent been showing you Dreams of me? Perhaps I looked more like this.” She changed, her body warping before Danny’s eyes to become an impossibly tall man completely covered in starry black robes. Except, of course, for his mask and curved, ram-like horns. “This is as good a place as any, I suppose.”

Danny nodded, not quite sure what he was agreeing to, and looked around. Amity Park was nowhere in sight. The hills were a little lumpy, as if the grass and moss were growing over oddly shaped rocks.

“Let’s sit,” said Nocturn, lowering himself elegantly to the ground.

Danny followed, movements clumsy and blurred by sleep. He blinked, and found his hands occupied by a large mug. He looked up at Nocturne. Had he given this to Danny, or…?

Nocturne smiled. Danny looked away, not feeling like getting caught in the hypnotic swirls of his mask again. There was something off about those rocks under the grass. Something about their shape…

Then he saw it and inhaled sharply through his teeth.

Bodies. They were bodies. Still breathing, but…

He looked back at Nocturne. He’d known Nocturne was being too nice to him. He was new to being other, but not new to being a younger sibling. Older siblings only acted like this when they had set up everything in their favor. When they wanted something.

Even knowing this, he struggled to keep his eyes open. Could he fall asleep in the Dream?

“What are you doing to them?” he asked. “How do I wake them up.”

Nocturne hummed. “I have an idea. Play a game with me, sibling, and I’ll tell you.”

“What kind of game?”

“You ask me a question, and for every answer I give you, I get something from you.”

“Like, an answer from me,” said Danny, trying to clarify his position, “or something else?”

Nocturne’s smile showed teeth.

“If I play this game,” said Danny, “I have to be able to say when it ends.” He didn’t want to be dancing around conversational pitfalls every time he interacted with Nocturne, after all. They were siblings.

(And though Love was not trust, it was Love. And Love was undeniable.)

“Of course,” agreed Nocturne, easily.

“Alright, then,” said Danny. He adjusted his grip on the mug.

The grass was crawling. He blinked, hard, and shook his head, dislodging two bees that had landed on his ear.

“How do I wake them up?” he asked.

“You can’t,” said Nocturne.

Danny paused, waiting for Nocturne to take what he wanted.

“You have other questions.”

“Aren’t you going to take something from me, for the question?”

“Yes, I am.”

Danny pursed his lips, realizing he had just wasted a question.

“If I can’t wake them, who or what can?”

“I could. Or they could wake themselves.”

Danny mulled over what that could mean. He had no idea where to start with the second part, but the first…

“What would I have to do, to get you to wake them?”

“You—”

The chain around Danny’s neck went taut, pulling him through the fabric of the Dream at breakneck speeds. He was in Clockwork, his sibling behind him.

You must not bully your sibling, my dear. I have enough love for both of you. You do not need to be jealous.

Danny swayed. Now that so much of the tension between him and Nocturne was gone, he was no longer able to use it to support his wakefulness.

Drink your milk, little Love. You’ll be able to find your friends.

Danny nodded sleepily and tipped the mug back. He didn’t remember what happened after that.

.

“Hundreds of Amity Park citizens are still in comas as health officials race to find the cause of the mysterious event. Some say that gas leaks are to…”

Danny tuned out the TV and glared at his cereal. He knew he had fallen asleep in the Dream and had done something, but the memory was beyond him. Maybe whatever it had been was beyond an even partially human mind.

Or whatever kind of mind Danny had.

His fingers twitched. He was going to go down again later today, to see if Clockwork would help him find everyone else. If they could be found at all. He didn’t want to. He was angry. Angry that this had happened, that it was still happening. Amity Park was his, and Nocturne had no right to try and steal and break and—

The terrible part, was that even though he was angry, his general desire to reach out to Nocturne, to lean on their Love… That had not diminished.

He looked forward to seeing them again.

The news continued to talk about the coma victims.