#grief and hurt manifesting in strange new ways?

[tleeaves]

Plagued by horrible feelings that don't go away, only fester. (I feel like everyone who knows me hates me or even mildly dislikes me, and I have literally no evidence whatsoever, everything is always circumstantial and my brain jumps to mean conclusions.)

Sometimes you grow up with this feeling like something is wrong with you and you step back and wonder if it was just the Catholic church environment and undiagnosed neurodivergence or if maybe you are a little bit fucked up and you can no longer hide it.

[breathlesslink]

Chapter Nine — New Phase

t.o.c ; << | >>

Link could have been back earlier, but he needed a minute.

Nothing could have prepared him for the Divine Beast. He expected fighting, but puzzles? He didn't think he'd also have to use his brain instead of just his brawn, but that made some sense since the shrines were also predominately puzzles.

The small underlings of Ganon's weren't difficult. Just little sentries, designed to look like mini guardians. The creature of malice that had defeated Mipha, however, was different.

She called it 'Waterblight Ganon', a small manifestation of his power sent to destroy the Champions and claim the beasts as his own like he did the other Ancient technologies. Link could see how a monster like that would be difficult to beat.

After Vah Ruta traveled her way to a spot to aim her beam at Hyrule Castle, Link took a break.

He sat on the grass next to the Beast, staying there long after Mipha's spirit had disappeared.

His chest felt heavy. Grief was already a strange emotion— he'd known that from when he lost his parents. But to grieve someone you don't remember meeting? He didn't even know what he was grieving. Mipha was apparently a close friend, consoling him on the days when Zelda became a bit too much to handle.

He remembered her, but only a bit. He knew that he knew her. He knew that they were close, but that was it. To learn that she had crafted the Zora Armor he wore because she wanted to marry him—

The Zora Armor.

You would think it looked so cool. He had to get back and show you. He knew you would love to hear about what happened.

Link groaned and stretched, sore from the fighting and dreading the trek back to the Domain. But he was excited too, to see you again and tell you about everything that happened.

———

A delicious smell wafted through the openings of the inn as you and Kodah worked tirelessly over the cooking pot, countless servings of seafood paella being churned out as word of Vah Ruta's defeat began to spread.

Zora's noticed her return to her original place high above the Kingdom hours ago, but Link had yet to come back. You tried to ignore the anxiety that rested deep in your stomach and focus on the dinner in front of you, but you couldn't help but watch the front of the Domain as you helped serve the Zora citizens their feast.

"Staring isn't going to make him magically appear, you know." Kodah teased. You rolled your eyes.

"I'm just a little worried. Vah Ruta has been fine for a few hours now. What if he's so injured that he can't make it back?"

"I think you're full of blubber." Kodah scooped another serving of paella for a Zora in line. "You of all people know that he's supposed to defeat Ganon. Do you really think he'd let something like this get him so easily?"

Considering he almost died before, maybe.

But you didn't want to say that, so instead you shrugged, tossing in another batch of shrimp to the pot.

"I put my full faith in him. But he's still Hylian at the end of the day. He's mortal. Might not be dead, but he could be hurt."

"You say you don't doubt me, but it sure sounds like you do."

There was a beat of silence as you processed the third voice that joined the conversation, and then your ladle fell to the ground.

You whipped around, unable to contain the smoke that stretched across your face as you rushed towards Link. He had a grin of his own, but it quickly faded into a look of surprise as you practically tackled him to the ground in a tight hug. Link took the brunt of the fall as you landed on top of him, but if it hurt he didn't show it. Instead he hugged you back, his arms sliding around your waist and squeezing. His cheek rested on your head.

"What took you so long! Are you okay?" You pulled away only a few inches to inspect him, but seeing as though he seemed fine you returned to your spot under his chin.

"Just needed a breather. Solving a bunch of puzzles and fighting an entity that's just a mini Ganon takes a lot out of you.

"And I bet the puzzles were harder than the fight." You snorted.

"That's just rude." Link playfully shoved you off of him, sticking his nose in the air. He didn't deny it. "What is that smell? I'm starving."

As if on cue, his stomach rumbled. You laughed and stood up, offering your hand to him. Link took it and hoisted himself up, the task a bit more difficult with how tired he was.

"Kodah and I made a huge seafood paella dinner for everyone to celebrate. We made sure to make enough for you when you came back."

"Oh my goddess, really?" Link's mouth watered as he watched you scoop a serving for him. "You're the best thing to ever happen to me."

You slightly flushed, but ignored his comment in favor of making your own plate and informing Kodah of your departure to eat with Link. You led him to a more secluded area, away from the crowds, figuring that he'd had enough of the socialization for a while. You certainly had.

You watched as Link took a tentative bite of the paella before diving in. You couldn't help but laugh. "You're gonna choke if you don't slow down."

"You go do the shit I did and then tell me that again."

"I would, but you said I'm not allowed." You joked, playfully pouting.

Link rolled his eyes. "Right. And after experiencing it, my rule still stands. If anything, it stands even stronger."

"Really? It was that bad, huh?"

"Uh, some parts were." He put down his utensils for a second. "It's draining, that's for sure. I, uh, saw the old Champion."

"Mipha?" Sidon had given you the rundown after returning from Link.

"Yeah. I remembered her. It sucked, but in like a different way than usual." You stayed silent, so he continued. "Like, obviously I knew her and was close with her. So I should be grieving her death, right? Except, I'm not because I don't remember her. So I only feel guilty now, because I feel like I should feel worse about it and that makes me feel even worse but in a different way. And it doesn't make any sense but—"

Link's rambling was cut off as you laid your hand on his. His eyes shot up to meet yours, the calming aura reflecting in them helping to soothe him a bit.

"Link, your circumstances are one in a million. There's a lot of things that should have happened, or ways that things should be, but guess what? It didn't happen. You've got to navigate an entirely new life— you're still in the same body as 100 years ago, but everything is different now. The land, the times, even you seem more different than how you described how you used to be. You told me that you never talked, but now you're so talkative.

Maybe 100 years ago you'd grieve properly, but even then is there even a right way to grieve? Everyone handles it differently. You feel guilty for not remembering her, right?"

Link nodded, averting his eyes in shame. You squeezed his hand.

"From what you do remember, do you think she'd want you to be sad about it? Or do you think she'd want you to just think about the happy times you can remember?"

"Definitely the happy times." He had a far-away look in his eyes, probably playing the few memories he does have of Mipha in his head. "She was always about being strong and looking on the bright side."

"And she believed that you fit her mindset so similarly that she wanted to marry you! You, of all people. Marriage material? I don't know about that—"

"Hey! I'll let you know I'd make a perfect husband." Link huffed and sent a grin your way. "It's not like I would've married her anyways. When I remember her, I get the feeling that I loved her as more of a sister than anything. I didn't even know about the Armer being made."

"And what cool armor it is." You laughed.

You'd brought up the marriage subtly, wanting to get Link's input on it without him teasing you for caring so much. When Sidon told you of Mipha's story, you questioned whether Link returned her feelings or not. You hated to admit, but you were definitely a little jealous. Not in a romantic way, of course.

In more of a "You're my first friend in a very long time and I don't want anyone else to have your attention" kind of way. Yeah. You had one more question to curb your jealous curiosity for the day, though.

"If not Mipha, what about Zelda? Isn't it like a fairy tale come true for a princess and her knight to fall in love?"

"No," Link laughed and shook his head, as if it was some absurd idea. "Zelda hated me up until a few days before Ganon attacked, I'm pretty sure. Plus, she was into some other knight at the castle. That's another reason why she was so mad that I was her knight and he wasn't."

"Oh come on." You felt better, but now you just wanted to tease. "There's no way a guy like you wasn't drowning in women."

Link flushed, and you bit back a laugh. "N-no! I told you, I didn't even talk to anyone! I was so focused on being a knight, and then being the Champion, I didn't have time for anything else."

"You for sure had women eyeing you. There's no way you didn't. You're too handsome for that."

Link continued to flush. He'd mentioned many times before that in the past, the burden of protecting Hyrule kept him stoic and quiet, but you had to tease him. His social skills were never entirely up to par.

"Stop messing with me." He finally let go of your hand and grabbed his utensils again to finish the paella. "What did you do when I was gone?"

You looked at your plate for a split second, trying to make a decision on what to say. Link would be so upset if you fought a monster alone, but you would like to think he'd also be proud.

You remembered moments before the fight, when the Yiga member taunted you from the trees. He beckoned you back to Gerudo under potentially false promises of knowing your brother's location.

"I just healed. Rested and went on a walk or two to keep my muscles from getting stiff."

"That's it?" Link didn't sound convinced. "Very unlike you to actually listen to Doctor's orders."

"Yeah, well," You paused for a second, trying to think of literally anything to defend yourself. Sometimes, telling the truth is the best lie you could create. "I just didn't want to hold you back from any more of the journey, so I wanted to get better as soon as possible."

Nobody ever said it had to be the truth of the current situation.

"Oh please," Link waved his hand, "I'd carry you on my back across Hyrule if I had to."

You didn't have a solid response to that and you were nearly certain Link was unaware of the feeling he just gave you in the pit of your stomach. You needed to change the subject.

"How long do you think it'll be until we reach Gerudo?"

"I was planning on hitting Elden next since its closer. Any reason why?"

Bad change of subject.

"Uh, I just miss my family there a bit. But if we're going to Elden first, I can wait. No worries."

You wouldn't show that it was indeed major worries, but perhaps when Link was off fighting the Divine Beast on Death Mountain you could scout another Yiga soldier and make them give you more information. It didn't feel right doing all of this behind his back, but you were feeling more and more desperate to reach Hiro with every passing moment, especially now that you knew your next move.

You always worked best alone during the little missions that the Yiga had sent you out on. It was taking all of your self-restraint to not just up and leave now to find Hiro, but you also felt a sense of responsibility towards Link. Like it was your own personal mission to protect him from the Yiga and any other threat that may come to him during his mission.

You knew the minute you realized who he was that your old way of life would no longer work. You needed to adapt and find new ways to solve your issues in your new phase of life.

Your new phase with Link by your side.

[aubadeatelier]

Finally... Art of my main characters for my story Discordant Throne!

Synopsis || In Discordant Throne, a new world is created after the apocalypse of the old world and the death of its last god. From its ashes, there comes new civilizations, creatures built from the old world’s grief and material, and demigods known as ‘Discordant Lords’— 100 people who gained a piece of the last god and thus, their power. But these new world gods need the belief of people to manifest and grow in strength. Aside from this limitation, Lords are cursed to recall their memories of their past lives in the old ‘Condemned World'.

The story focuses on Amanece, the 14th Lord that controls time, who travels the world answering long forgotten prayers in hopes that maybe an answer to her wishes can be found.

But, wish as she might, she is pulled deeper and deeper into the conflicts of the world that changed as she slept.

(Mini Character bios below!)

Amanece Cantakrona ('Lord Amanece') [The Hand. 14th Lord of the Eternal Chamber. Time & ???] A heart that is open and on her sleeve. Tries to stay out of other people's business, but is instead shoved in by her emotions.

A member of the House of Cantakrona/the Fell-Star Court, Amanece was out of commission for several years after falling into a deep slumber. It was the result of her bearing the weight of her regrets from the old world and trying to use her powers to try and correct that past-- only to realize that 1) she could not do it and more importantly, 2) it broke the heart of her new world family, whose lives surely would have been altered for the worst if she rewound the clock. The guilt from her action drove her into her death-like slumber. Decades passed on by, along with a major war as she slept. Upon her awakening, she made up with her family and resolved to try to live in the physical world and catch up to a world that kept on moving. To find her place, she sets off on a journey with her friends. But she is bothered by rising questions- Why does she have so much power despite not having believers other than friends and family? What truly happened during her slumber? Can she truly live a life in the present, not held back by the mistakes and allures of her past life? And why can she hear lingering prayers and wishes imbued in items and places? Without another direction, she and her friends grant these last wishes as they search for answers. Yet, strangely one of these lead her to Kinzerthelt Volker, a young boy in the Langathene Empire's Inheritor Project that seeks to turn children into Discordant Lords. Amanece is meant to protect him as per the rule of the last wish, but how can she convince him to abandon his dream? And what of the people who will do everything to stop her from getting in the way of the "eternal order and sanctity" of Langathene?

Sondegarnr Alexandrite Darai ('Lord Garner') [The Pull. 86th Lord of the Burdened World. Space & Gravity] Intimidating, foreboding, and seemingly gruff. Is actually gentle and polite. He's really just trying to give people their space and not scare them or hurt them.

A guardian and observer of the humans and Remnants(creatures composed of the grief of the old world + glass, metal, plastic,etc.) that live within the Sanctuary of Dirimvald, Garner spends most of his time and effort keeping his lands safe and ensuring coexistence between the beings within it. Unfortunately, beyond his homeland, he is falsely painted as the monstrous 'Beast of Dirimvald' and the tyrannical 'Grand King of Dirimvald'. It does not make him happy, but he ignores it all to concentrate his energy on making life stable and better for those he cares about. Not spending a moment to enjoy any true rest or leisure nor warmly reminisce, Garner is doing the next thing on his agenda. When matters get tough, he numbs his feelings to charge forward and to shove away the memories of his past and his past life-- much to the worry of his friends and to his own detriment as he renders himself into a tool or force of nature rather than a man. He normally would not leave the bounds of Dirimvald, that is until information comes to him of a troubling project from the Langathene Empire-- a project that aims to make kids into young Discordant Lords to ensure the order and prosperity of the empire. Garner can't stand to see people, especially the young and unaware, used to further the agendas of others, knowing full well what that had done to him. He leaves Dirimvald with his friends, prepared to work with all his effort to stop Langathene and prevent history from repeating itself.

[geminiamethyst]

Skyline Gang: Trial of Darkness. Chapter 32

Chapter 1: click HERE

Chapter 31: click HERE

Chapter 33: click HERE

The time for running was over. Everyone’s energy had been depleted, legs trembling, lungs heaving for air. Dawn had cornered them with her darkness now that she had proper control of it now. The pipsqueak’s energy was almost all hers, just a sliver left and she’ll be fully regenerated. As annoying as the chase was, she was thrilled by it. After all, her prizes were gathered all at once. These humans have caused her enough trouble. They’ll suffer greatly for it. Rainbow stood bravely in front of them. He snarled and growled at the imposing figure, starting to foam a little in the mouth. He won’t let her hurt his family. She makes one wrong move, and he’ll bite at her. He’s never had to bite anyone before. Today, he’ll be happy to change that if it meant protecting his humans.

Dawn raised her hand. What should she do? Slash with her nails, see if she can hurt them now? Or should she crush them to dust with her darkness? Something behind her paused her movements. She glanced over her shoulder. Misty was standing several ft behind her. In her hands was the Sceptre of Shadows. Her hands were clenched tightly around it. The sight of her like this caused the Gang’s hearts to drop to their stomachs. This was her final resolve to them. She really has betrayed them.

“Good. It’s about time you’ve found it, stupid girl.” Dawn sighed, irritated, but relieved. She held out her hand, ready to have her weapon back in her hands. “Now, bring me the Sceptre. I can finish them all off by smiting them all at once.”

Misty looked down at the Sceptre in her hands. Her reflection in the gem stared back at her. Her face, her pale face was filled with emotion. Anxiety, concern, hesitation, desire. All of them were mixed together. Was it right for her to feel like this? For a moment, there was a brief flash. Half of Misty’s face became that of the orange haired woman she saw earlier. An ocean blue eye was bright with helplessness and grief. A final, silent plea, a lone tear running down from the eye. The face was gone before Misty had the time to question the strange woman.

“What are you doing? I gave you an order!” Dawn ordered, not keeping her eyes off her prey. Which one should she start with first? That mutt will attack her, so he’ll go first. Then she’ll kill the rest in one go after they wallow in despair over their pet flea hotel.

“Being naughty’s really fun…”

“What was that?” Dawn asked, hearing that voice behind her. She turned to see that Misty hadn’t moved from her spot. What is she doing?

“…playing tricks on everyone…” Misty continued, moving the Sceptre a little in her hands. Why is she holding it like that?

“Don’t you dare!” Dawn ordered, her voice becoming fearful in just a split second. She knows what was going on!

“I’m Misty the Mischief! You’ll see!” Misty declared, raising the Sceptre high above her head. Her target, the ground.

“NO!” Dawn roared, charging forwards. Misty barely had enough time to teleport out of the way. The chase began again. Dawn wasn’t entirely stupid though. She kept those rats trapped in her cage of darkness like the vermin they were. Once she’s dealt with Misty, then she can end them. Misty reappeared at the other side of the hall. She raised it, pointing it at Dawn. She tried to focus on firing energy out of it like she had before she resurrected Dawn. However, nothing happened. Her spirit shattered. It won’t work for her anymore. It has a new, more powerful and worthy master now. Dawn charged again. And again, Misty teleported away. She manifested up high on a rafter. She looked down at the scene around her. The Gang was trapped, but they could see her clearly. Dawn saw her too. Misty attempted to run along the rafter but Dawn was much faster than she predicted. She looked over Misty, her long hair flaying around her like a phantom. Misty tried to backtrack, but Dawn grabbed her before she could. Two of her long fingers looping over her shoulders, with the other two hooking her waist from the back.

“You traitorous little scamp! After all I’ve done for you!” Dawn snarled, lifting Misty high in the air. She glared down at the Sceptre that was still clutched in Misty’s hand. Good. The wretch hadn’t dropped the Sceptre. Dawn reached to grab it, but all she felt was air. An illusion? As the image faded from view, Misty smirked at her “boss”. Dawn shook her roughly like a doll in fury. “What? Where is it?! What have you done?!”

Misty groaned dizzily from the shaking. She’ll probably feel that in the morning. However, she fought back against the dizziness and her smirk returned to her face.

“It’s not me you should be worried about.” She boasted, pointing downwards. Dawn glared at the spot as to where she was pointing. Pink? Why was there pink? Dawn looked down at the prisoners that watched bravely. Red, yellow, purple, green, orange. No pink! What?! How could she oversee that?! Dawn looked back at Candi, standing next to a pillar. In her trembling hands was the Sceptre of Shadows, the real one. She held it at one end and raised it. The way she held it was like a baseball bat.

“NO!” Dawn shrieked again, dropping Misty instantly. Misty fell toward the ground, but teleported to land safely. Dawn launched herself towards the pink girl, diving like a peregrine falcon. Candi swung the Sceptre as hard as she could. The strength in her was more powerful than she believed. The Sceptre collided with the pillar. It vibrated so hard that it forced itself free from Candi’s grip. The orb it contained shattered, scattering like snow during a blizzard. Candi had swung the rod of the Sceptre so hard that it broke into two. Just as the Sceptre broke, so did Dawn’s spirit. With a agonising groan, her flight became stagnant, her body crashing to the ground. The force was so harsh, that the ground shook a little from the impact. Dawn writhed and crawled at the ground. Her frenzied gaze locked onto Candi. She tried to make her darkness attack the pink girl, but not even so much as a wisp rose to her orders.

“Y-you…” Dawn hissed, her face twisting into agony. The pawn that she used at the very beginning became her own undoing. Candi stood still, believing they there was no need to run. She watched at Dawn’s form started to slowly chip away, just like last time. “I can’t…this can’t be…”

The prison surrounding the others dissipated. They watched in triumph and relief, giving each other high fives as Rainbow danced in a circle. A loud gasp erupted beside Candi. She spun around, her eyes swinging in the dark. Heaving for air, coughing and sputtering a little, with all his blue coming back to him, was Dude. His skin had returned to its natural tan, and his face wasn’t so ghostly looking and thin.

“Dude?!” Candi exclaimed, wrapping her arms around him immediately.

“I’m okay.” Dude barely responded, returning the surprise hug. He was so disoriented that he almost didn’t register who was hugging him so tightly. A groan from Dawn seemed to perk him right up. He tried to stand, with Candi steadying him. His legs quaked, threatening to buckle under him. She helped to walk him around. Dawn continued to crawl around, desperately trying to stay alive.

“No…I’m not done…” she groaned, a whimper escaping her lips. The Darkness around her started to fade and her form shrank. Her hair draped to the ground like wet cloth and her fingers were reduced to a normal length. Just like before when she died the first time. All the energy that she had stolen spilled out of her. Without the Sceptre of Shadows, the relic of darkness that kept her frozen heart beating, she cannot survive any longer. Not without draining a host completely.

“It’s over, Dawn.” Dude said, his voice and stance getting stronger by the second. Dawn, with her face like chilled china, looked up at him waspishly. She tried to raise a hand, her nails itching to claw his eyes out. However, she couldn’t even lift her limb that far above her head. Dude kept watching her. He didn’t feel happy, he felt pity. Pity for the woman that was still trapped within and that no one can save from this fate. “It’s time to let go. To rest.”

Dawn let out a growl, still trying to harm Dude as he started to stand on his own now. Her eyes flashed between shades of blue again. A tear, one single, tiny tear, fell from her face. Finally, her head rested on the ground, seemingly at peace. A bittersweet feeling swept through the room as Dawn’s form started to fade away.

“Is it over?” Pip finally asked, stepping closer with the others right behind her.

“It’s over.” Dude breathes a sigh of relief.

“Just one question: what’s going to happen to me now?” Misty asked, looking at everyone. Scrutinising eyes looked back at her. With everything that had happened in the past five minutes, no one wondered about what should happen to Misty. Dude opened his mouth, ready to say “I’m open to suggestions” or something like that. However, he didn’t have a chance to. Misty suddenly exclaimed in pain, hands flying up to her chest. She clutched at the fabric of her clothes. Her legs gave way under her as she fell to the ground.

“Misty!” Candi cried out as she ran out to Misty. Dude followed suit.

“What’s happening to her?!” Sprout asked, running up to them with everyone else following him. They all scuttled around Dawn’s still fading form, not concerned about her since she couldn’t do anything.

“It’s Dawn!” Dude shouted, remembering something vital during his imprisonment. Everyone looked back and forth between the remains of Dawn and Misty, who was one propped up in Dude’s arms. “Dawn was connected to Misty just as Candi is! She’s gone and it’s rebounding on Misty!”

A cold sweat broke amongst the Gang, watching Misty as she writhed in pain. Candi didn’t feel the pain (much to her own relief), but she could feel how much her opposite was suffering. As quick as it happened, whatever Misty went through, was over. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head before she went listless. Dude felt like she was dead weight as she fell unconscious. There was this unsettling feeling. Misty just seemed dead, just like Dude had been mere moments ago.

“Is she okay?” Mimi asked, tucking hair out of her face. Bud was about to pull out a gadget to take a look, but Sprout had beaten him to it. Surprisingly like an expert, Sprout place two fingers on Misty’s neck. He found the pulse she had right away. It was weak, but still there.

“She’s alive.” Sprout concluded. Rainbow whined a little, nudging Misty’s hand.

“Dawn must have let her go. But why?” Bud mused over, scratching his head.

“I think I know.” Dude muttered. The looks he was given were more than reasonable. He’s still recovering from the initial shock of finding out Dawn’s true identity. The Jane Doe that he wished that he knew more about. The woman that he wished that people were more open to talk about. The woman that was victim who deserved to be remembered for the joy she once brought.

There was this small groan that broke the reunion. Misty stirred, rubbing her head as if she had a migraine. Headache or not, she’s not going to avoid the scolding that she’s going to receive from everyone. Dude had the right start off first.

“Misty?” Candi asked cautiously, taking a small step forward.

“What? Where?” Misty responded, blinking fast to clear her head.

“Hey! Misty!” Sprout shouted, jumping up and down angrily. Misty looked up at him, seemingly confused. “You’ve got a lot to make up for!”

“Who are you?” Misty suddenly asked, looking at each colourful person carefully.

“Misty, that’s not funny.” Bud sighed hopelessly.

“My name’s Misty? Really?” Misty asked again, an eyebrow raised. Was she being serious? This wasn’t a prank? Maybe that had something to do with Dawn too. With her being gone, not only the connection between the two is severed, but all of Misty’s memories are no more too. She can’t even remember her own name?!

Or at least that’s what it felt like for ten seconds…

The tension broke when Misty suddenly snickered and let out a loud laugh right after. She couldn’t keep it up any longer. She just had to let it slip that she was joking around. Otherwise she’d have some doctor trying to poke her head around or Bud would be all Mr Boring Science Man with his gizmos or something along those lines. That’s the last thing that she wants right now with this splitting headache.

“The look on your faces.” Misty continued to cackle through the pain. She briefly wondered if Candi could feel it too. “Who could forget about losers like you lot?”

“Yeah? Keep talking like that and next time maybe we’ll leave you in a crumbling temple while you’re unconscious.” Dude decided to fire back, crossing his arms. At least he’s back to normal, it seems. Misty wasn’t looking forward to the scolding from him the most, but it’ll go in one ear and out the other like it usually does. How else can she wind him up otherwise?

“Aw, Dude. You do care.” Misty sighed dramatically, faking a swooning motion with the back of her hand against her head and everything. Her face then changed to confusion. She started touching her face almost everywhere. Forehead, cheeks, even a little bit of her neck. “Wait. I’m…warm. I’m not supposed to be warm.” Confusion swept through the Gang. Dude knelt down and felt Misty’s forehead as well. She was warm. There was no longer that bitter cold that he and everyone else had gotten used to feeling. It could’ve been from the sun now that it was back on this area, but there was another suspicion as to her sudden warmth.

“You must’ve gotten that from Dawn. She’s gone now.” Dude concluded, standing back up. Misty lifted her hands up, her eyes concentrating on something. Then she looked at a small stone that was on the ground next to her, staring hard again. What was she doing?

“I don’t have my powers anymore. I’m…normal…” Misty sighed at last, looking defeated. Then she grimaced, wrapping her arms around herself in disgust. “Ugh! I don’t know how to feel about that!”

“You’ll get used to it.” Candi laughed lightheartedly. Misty wasn’t sure about that. She loved having her powers. She didn’t care that she got them from that monster. She used to get away with a lot of mischief thanks to her powers. Now that she doesn’t have them anymore, she’s going to have to practice and work a bit harder at it. She’s only been awake for two minutes and already she hated her current state. Dude suddenly offered a hand to her. Deja Vu washed over Misty at that moment. It brought her back to her first day being alive. She was sitting in that closet again, looking up at people who used to be strangers to her. Each face was patiently waiting for her to make a move. A kind hand offered to her, ready to pull her out from the dark, small space. There was just this feeling of being “born” again. This time, Misty didn’t hesitate in grabbing it. Dude pulled her up effortlessly, and made sure that she was steady. It felt good to be back on her feet.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” Bud asked, giving Misty a scrutinising look. Misty looked back and forth between everyone. All had the same look, even Rainbow. She can’t back out of this one this time.

“I’m…” she started before her voice became too quiet to pick up.

“What was that? We can’t hear you.” Bud urged on, beckoning to his ear.

“I said I’m…” Misty said again, but her voice was reduced to an incoherent grumble.

“Pardon?” Everyone else encouraged. Is she really going to play that game?

“I’m sorry okay?!” Misty finally shouted, her voice bouncing around the jungle. Well at least she finally said it. But there’s still a lot for her to do in order to make up for everything. Thankfully she seemed to recognise that too. “Look I know that I may or may not have almost killed you all but…I really am sorry. I wanted the Skyline sure, but not like that. I’ll fix this somehow.”

“Just next time you hear voices in your head telling you to mess around with artefacts, either tell us or ditch the treasure.” Sprout said, wagging his finger mockingly at Misty.

“Guess that crosses off stealing from an Egyptian tomb from my list then.” Misty rolled her eyes, folding her arms bitterly. Oh well, she has plenty of other things on her list that she can do to cause mischief. Much to everyone else’s soon to be annoyance. Dude will have to write a list of his own. A list of all the things that Misty will have to do in order to make amends. That will have to wait until they all get home though.

“So Bud, you said something about a bridge, and we need one.” Sprout suddenly reminded with a small smile. “Any bright ideas?”

“I…um…” Bud stuttered upon remembering that. So they are lost, deep in a jungle with no bridge to help them get back. Great start to finishing off this little adventure.

“Guess we’re taking the long way home then.” Sprout continued to laugh with uncertainty. Better take a look at that map again to plan another route and where to find safe food and water.

“Maybe not! Look!” Pip suddenly grinned excitedly. She pointed upwards to the sky. Curious eyes looked up. What was that sound? A loud, joyous sound of whirring can be heard with an engine. Something red could be seen against the blue sky. A helicopter! Someone must have sent one to investigate the mysterious darkness that could have been seen for miles, or to look at the phenomenon that caused the dark clouds in the sky. Now this team had some ruins to look into. And passengers to pick up. The Skyline Gang waved and yelled as wildly as they could with Rainbow leering out the loudest barks in canine history. Even Candi, who was still traumatised by heights was allowing herself to go into a flying death trap. Just so long as her eyes were covered again. Surely Dude can cover that part too. An announcement came out in Spanish on a speaker, but no one needed it translating. They were finally going home, back to the Skyline.

At least some things have started to look better already.

[plantdad-dante]

Book #125 - Hold Still by Nina LaCour

(first time read, this book is about grief from suicide,  so... caution? content warning? something like that. I also might have less than charming things to say about it.)

I have gone back and forth on whether or not I like this book for about a week now? On the one hand, it's what the reviews plastered all over my copy say - paraphrased: "an effective, moving portrail of grief, especially this particular kind of it". On the other hand... I didn't really like these characters? Any of them?

What glimpses I got of Caitlin outside of her grief were either mean (mostly past!Caitlin) or depressingly mediocre. I mean, yes, she's going through something no one should ever have to go through, and I feel with her, but that's also kind of it? I wouldn't give a shit about her if it wasn't for her dead friend, and maybe that's harsh, but it's not like I can help it.

Dylan probably comes closest to being a character I would like, but in the end, this story wasn't about her, and she was mostly just here to become Caitlin's new friend, so... yay, punk lesbian existed! And that's it.

And the rest are just... boring. Set-dressing. They are the environment in which Caitlin grieves Ingrid, and nothing more than that.

Speaking of Ingrid (this is where I feel like I'm risking saying something spicy that won't land well), we are never given a reason to actually like her. Sympathize, yes, tons. We learn all about how horrible she felt, has always felt, and how her depression and suicidal ideation manifested. And yes, ffs, suicide is always an unnessecary tragedy. As if that wasn't fucking clear.

But would it have hurt so much to give us a reason to like her? Independent of Caitlin's best-friend-bias? All the good memories we get of her are tied to other people or cool places or some kind of achievment. To Caitlin discovering she likes The Cure. We never get one that's just about Ingrid, about her being funny, or smart, or tying her shoes in a really ideosynchratic way.

And in the end, the photograph through-line isn't about how Ingrid saw the world, either, it's about how pretty they are. It's not about how Caitlin remembers her, it's about a photograph Ingird took of her. It's about Caitlin. And on the one hand, I guess that is true of grief, on the other, it made the story feel... strange. Lacking.

I don't know, is this mean to say? Of course I sympathize, this whole book I have done nothing but sympathize, but honestly? If I wanted to make myself feel horrible about traumatic, preventable death, there are easier ways to do that.

I guess I just want more from my stories.

[thoughtdaughters-diary]

To the 19-year-old Maymay

My dear one,

You are a lot of things; I remember clearly what you feel so deeply in your heart at this time of your life. I am sure that if you’re asked who you are, you will definitely say you are a lover―someone who holds dear her first love. Your heart has never felt this way, what a privilege to feel so strongly. I am writing because it's finally time. Let’s talk about him.

You have never found someone like him, I know that very well. No one was ever as wise as him. He talks about the world like he has poetry in his eyes, which you have always believed is true. He is not just a poet by paper, but a poet by heart. He is poetry's offer to the world to heal this godforsaken place. You recognize his words as your assurance that you are saved for a lifetime. If only you could fetch an endless stream of ink for his writings, you would gladly do it all your life just so his pen won't run dry because the world becomes bearable through his words. All this until his supposed pieces of love became notes of goodbye. Suddenly, all you now know is bidding farewell over and over.

He has grown as an inspiration to you and your (he)art. Almost everything you have ever created is a manifestation of your love for him. He is an artist who doesn't have the faintest idea that he beat the famous ones for being great with your heart. When you were asked when you reached your peak in art, you talked, without hesitation, about how having an artist lover could cure your heart and make you paint the most heartwarming sceneries ever. Until you both fell apart and you suddenly stopped holding your paint brushes. You've been heartbroken since.

He is someone whose eyes have the power to steer the misery inside you. How could you not fall again and again with those smiling eyes? I understand it so well. Merely looking at his photographs makes your heart collapse in joy. He knows how to make you weak and strong in the same breath. You never recognized this power elsewhere. Until you stopped seeing his eyes look at you. Suddenly, you're lonelier.

Every corner of the world is familiar with him. The world knows him. The wind sings his favorite songs; the ocean crashes every time he hurts; the trees dance when he's smiling. If it's just you, you think the world is so strange, but he makes it familiar. What can we say, he's here. Until he isn't yours anymore, and suddenly, you're now always reminded of this.

Nonetheless, you have embraced this grief for such a long time, because all you have ever known while loving him is the pain. There was grief because there was love, and you loved loving him. There were times you wanted to disappear, but you have never wanted that more than loving him. You first knew love because of him, but you also learned about loss when you both made your share of mistakes. You loved him everyday, and everyday, you were hurt.

Now, you may breathe and let out a deep sigh. After a long time, I am finally writing and holding you gently to tell you, you can now let the grief go. I embrace you from here to assure you that your heart can move forward. You are not stuck anymore, Maymay. It's a brand new day for you and your heart. I hope you take this as a new success. You can take a step now. You have me along the way.

I am proud of you for loving unconditionally, fighting relentlessly, and for enduring bravely. I am astounded with how limitless your heart is. You surprise me everyday.

Soon, I will find a gentler place for your heart and mind.

Yours,

Maymay of September 2023

[redgillan]

Under Pastel Skies - 6

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 4,327

Warnings: panic attacks, Bucky recalls his accident

A/N: I don’t have much to say, Bucky’s real emotional in this one. I hope you enjoy this chapter :’) 

Wannabe sugar daddies don’t interact, idc if you have money, eat it and leave me be.

Everywhere Bucky looked his eyes and ears were assaulted by a cacophony of sounds and colours. Red and green baubles hung from the ceiling, shimmering like disco balls and sending sparkles around the mall.

The air smelled like pine and cinnamon, something he usually liked, but it was so pungent and unpleasant that it made his stomach churn and bile rise up his throat. He tried to breathe through his mouth, forcing oxygen into his lungs.

Flashes of silver and gold momentarily blinded him, and as someone walked past him, their shopping bag knocked against his leg. It didn’t hurt but it made him seethe with misplaced anger. Beads of sweat broke out on the back of his neck.

Christmas carols played over the mall speakers, more specifically Jingle Bells which they played three times in less than an hour. Enough, enough, enough. He was suffocating, unable to breathe. He felt too big for his own skin, he needed to escape.

Then he felt your hand at the small of his back, guiding him toward what looked like a furniture store. He followed blindly, his vision blurry and unfocused, and sat down when you gently pushed him down onto a sofa.

Bucky shut his eyes and let his head fall back against the cushion. A woman came up and asked if you needed help but you told her that everything was fine. The buzzing in his ears made the voices around him strangely soothing, as if he was underwater. Now that he was sitting down, he felt a lot better.  

You didn’t try to touch him, something he was very grateful for. He could feel your weight shift next to him and knowing you were there was enough. He focused on you –your heat, your voice, the smell of your shampoo- and his breathing slowly returned to normal.

“Sorry,” he breathed out with a small smile, his head lolling to one side to look at you. “I ruined our shopping spree.”

The fear and panic had dissipated, leaving him cold, exhausted and craving skin to skin contact. He took your hand and linked your fingers together. Your hands were freezing cold.

“You didn’t ruin anything.”

He snorted. “Yeah, I did.” A sad smile curved his lips, he needed to change the subject. “Do you celebrate Christmas?”

You sank further into the sofa cushion sitting shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand.

“We celebrated so many different holidays,” you said. “Perks of growing up in a multicultural family. Christmas was wild though. One tree, five kids. That poor thing never stood a chance. Now I don’t really celebrate anything. December used to be so much fun, now it’s just not the same.”

“We should create our own holiday,” Bucky suggested, squeezing your hand.

“Aren’t you going to see your family?”

“Nah,” he replied with a yawn. “My sister is taking her kids somewhere warm, and my parents are traveling the country in their RV. You can invite your siblings if you want.”

“They’re not available.”

Bucky tried to decipher the expression on your face. Every time you talked about your siblings, you had a faraway look in your eyes, as though you were reliving a memory. He couldn’t tell what you were thinking but your face twisted into a painful grimace. Then suddenly it was gone.

“I want a tree.”

He watched you with a lazy smile. “I’ll get you a tree.”

You pulled him up to his feet and decided it was time to go home. Home. It still made Bucky weirdly warm inside when you called his apartment ‘home’. You crossed the mall, your arm looped through his as you walked, and took a cab to Brooklyn.

He almost fell asleep from the gentle rocking of the car moving through the streets of Manhattan. When he glanced at you, you were looking out your window watching the snow fall.

You’d been living together for almost two months now and Bucky couldn’t have picked a better roommate. He liked the way you sang in the shower, loud, cheerful and most definitely off-key. He liked that you had more pyjamas than every day clothes. He liked watching you paint from the living room, and it always made him laugh when you added weird things to his grocery list.

He could go to bed and sleep the whole night without waking up, feeling safer knowing someone else was there. Of course, not everything was perfect but it was close enough.

He woke up on the sofa a few hours later, still dressed and with a fluffy blanket thrown over him. The sun was setting, painting the sky with reds and oranges. He basked in the setting sun, a content smile on his face, before he sat up.

The TV was on, the volume low, and you were sitting cross-legged on the floor between the sofa and the coffee table going through a bunch of old photographs. Bucky looked around the room, taking in the new furniture and decor.

There was a comfortable armchair in front of the gas burning fireplace. Your book was resting on the seat of the armchair. You had also bought a lot of decorative pillows, some were pretty funny like the one that looked like a giant cookie.

“Whatcha doing?” he asked, his voice gruff with sleep.

You looked over your shoulder at him. “Hey, you’re awake! I bought some picture frames. I thought it’d make this place look less like a high end furniture store.”

“I liked it better when you thought this apartment was amazing.”

You laughed. “I still do, but it’s a bit... soulless.” You tilted your head back, looking at him upside down. “Sorry.”

“Gotta call a spade a spade,” he said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “All right, well, while you do that I’m going to start dinner.”

He pushed off the sofa but you caught his wrist before he could leave. “I’m already done. I’ve left some frames for you.”

“I already have lots of pictures upstairs.”

“I know, but no one ever goes upstairs,” you replied, letting go of his wrist. “And you’re not in any of the photos.”

Bucky’s eyes were drawn to the picture you were holding. It must have been taken on the day of your high school graduation, you were dressed in a cap and gown, smiling with your whole face. He’d never seen you smile like that. He recognized Peggy Carter right away, her hair was more silver-white than brown and there were deep wrinkles around her eyes.

Your mom wasn’t looking at the camera, she was scolding the young man who was giving you bunny ears. The man was grinning mischievously at the camera. Bucky couldn’t tell how old he was, he appeared to be either twenty or fifty.

There were two other women wearing sundresses, one had long brown hair, the other had twisted her hair into Bantu knots. A young man with dyed silver hair and dark roots was squatting in front of you, his arms crossed over his chest à la Backstreet Boys.

“You should frame this one,” he said, sitting on the floor next to you.

You shrugged. “I don’t know. It makes me kinda sad.”

Bucky learned not to dwell on the past. It hadn’t been easy but it would have been impossible to heal without the support of his friends and family. Grief manifests itself in a number of ways, it’s raw and complex, and comes from your soul. 

Bucky had a deep love for his childhood, especially his college years, but while he would cherish this time forever, he had accepted that he was a different person. He wasn’t the same naïve, youthful man he used to be, and it wasn’t a bad thing.

But he also knew that some people live in the past. It makes them feel alive.

“Y’know,” he started, meeting your eyes with a smile. “My hair used to be pretty long. I think I still have some photos in a folder somewhere.”

You clasped your hands together in a silent prayer. “Bucky, I’m going to be honest with you,” you deadpanned. “I need to see those pictures. I need them now. It’s a matter of life and death.”

He rolled his eyes while he got to his feet. “You’re so dramatic. I’ll go get ‘em.”

Bucky took the stairs up to his office and came back a few minutes later with a laptop under his arm. He sat on the floor next to you and set the laptop on his lap.

“You promise you won’t make fun of me?”

“Absolutely,” you replied, mimicking a Cheshire cat grin.

He sighed and tried to look stern but it was nearly impossible. You were too lovely, and he couldn’t help but smile. He opened up the laptop and glanced at you from the corner of his eye; you were practically vibrating.

He started going through the photos when he found one of himself at a party. He was in his early twenties, slumped in a chair, his eyes glassy and unfocused. In the next one he had been joined by two equally drunk women, and he was now roaring at the camera.

“Early twenties, two arms, and not a care in the world,” he said with a little sigh.

You leaned forward, your elbow resting on the coffee table. “Looks like you were having fun.”

“College was a lot of fun,” Bucky said, grinning to himself.

“What was your major?”

“English,” he replied. “I was a really good student, I could have chosen anything but there were more girls studying literature so I enrolled as an English major.”

“Wait!” You recoiled as if you had misheard him. “Did you really choose English because there were more girls?”

He made a funny grimace, and his nose scrunched up a bit as he mulled it over. “Yeah... my priorities were a bit mixed up. Hormones and all.”

You lowered your face into your hand and laughed. When you looked up at him, he was sporting his boyish grin and you shook your head at him.

In the next picture, he was clad in a black university graduation gown standing next to a blond man also dressed in a black gown. They were smiling, sunglasses perched on their nose.

“When I graduated, I had no idea what to do with a BA in English,” Bucky said after taking a long look at the photo. “The thing is, I never found my life’s calling. In high school I didn’t know what job I wanted to do, or what really motivated me, and to be honest I never really thought about it. I figured I’d find my passion in college but...” he trailed off with a shrug. “You’re lucky to have found your passion.”

“Is that why you want to help me?” you asked. “Because I found my calling and I wasn’t pursuing it.”

He tilted his head to one side, considering. “Yes, I guess that’s part of the reason why I want to help you.” He took a shuddering breath.

“Turns out I wasn’t the only one struggling to keep my head above water.” He pressed his index finger to the computer screen. “This is Steve, my oldest friend. He had just started working as a professional freelance photographer. I had nothing to do so I decided to help him build his portfolio. You’re an artist, I’m sure you know that a portfolio will make or break you.”

“It shows what you’ve accomplished, the skills you mastered,” you said, nodding. “Your potential employers will want to see your portfolio.”

“Exactly, and you have to show them your best work. In Steve’s case, it meant taking risks. No matter how talented you are, no one’s gonna pay you for a shot of the Brooklyn Bridge. It’s gorgeous but it’s not rare.”

“So what did he do?”

“We decided to climb Mount Everest.” He mechanically rubbed his stump and your eyes followed his movement. “It might’ve been the dumbest idea we’ve ever had but it sort of made sense at the time. Steve needed a challenging project and I was trying to find my purpose. We trained for a year, put money aside and took a loan. We were young, we thought we were invincible.

“The thing is,” he continued, “Mount Everest is the most famous mountain in the world. It’s crowded and only half the climbers reach the summit. A lot of people die.” He took a small pause. “Sometimes they can’t remove their bodies and they become landmarks. Our Sherpa told us about this man, they call him Green Boots. He’s sort of curled up in a fetal position near what they call Green Boots’ cave. When you walk past him, it looks like he’s just sleeping and because it’s so cold out there he’s actually well-preserved.”

“Oh, God.”

“Yeah, it’s awful,” Bucky let out a small, humourless laugh. “When I fell, I dislocated my arm and it pinched my axillary artery completely closed. It cut off circulation. That’s why they had to amputate. I was just lying there, too weak to call for help, watching people walk past me. They thought I was dead. And I remember thinking, ‘I’m going to die here. I’m going to die here and people will refer to me as Blue Jacket.’ Then Steve and the Sherpa found me, and Steve carried me on his back until they found a shelter. When the rescue team arrived, it was too late to save my arm.”

He went through the photos in silence and glared at the screen without really seeing it, his mind far away. On the screen, there was an endless stream of blurry smiles and blue eyes but he couldn’t look away. His thoughts cleared up when he felt the back of your knuckles along his cheek and jaw.

He unclenched his teeth, feeling the pain in his jaw. You brushed your fingers through his hair, pushing it off his forehead. You mindlessly played with the curl on top of his head and raked your fingernails gently over his scalp. When you spoke, your voice was just a soft whisper.

“Come back to me.”

Bucky forced his eyes shut and swallowed past the lump in his throat, tears pooling on his lower lashes. He took a deep breath and released it slowly. After a moment, he felt his body beginning to relax.

“How do you do that?” he asked in a pleading voice, turning his head to look at you. “How do you quiet the noise in my head?”

The question caught you off guard but you recovered quickly. You took his arm and draped it over your shoulders. “I don’t know,” you said, snuggling into his side. “It’s your second panic attack today. Did I push you too hard?”

“No.” His response was immediate. “I don’t like winter. It’s freezing cold and it gets dark at three thirty. Not my favorite time of the year.”

“But this helps, right?” you asked, waving your hand back and forth in the space between you.

He chuckled. “Yeah, it helps a lot.”

“Good.” You snuggled a little closer.

“But since you’re hoarding my arm, you’re gonna have to go through the pictures yourself,” he added, grinning down at you.

“Sorry,” you laughed. You reached out and slid two fingers over the touchpad guiding the cursor over the arrow icon. “So where are those pictures of you with long hair, uh?”

He knew you were trying to distract him but still made him blush. Those photos were in a folder titled: recovery spring 2010. He gave you directions to find it and waited for your reaction, wondering if you would burst into laughter at the sight of him with long hair and a lot more weight on.

“Wow.”

Bucky turned his attention to the screen to see which one had caught your interest. It was a selfie Steve had taken one sunny afternoon after he had forced Bucky to go out with him and Sam. They were sitting outside drinking iced tea.

Steve’s smile was blinding. He was wearing that stupid baseball cap he loved so much. Bucky sat hunched over in his seat behind Steve, his smile small but genuine. It was the kind of smile that said ‘my friends forced me to join them but I’m secretly glad they did’. Sam was leaning sideways against Bucky, his eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses.

“You look like a completely different person,” you said. “So... strong.”

“Hey!” he gasped in mock offense. “How dare you? I’m still strong.” He removed his arm from behind your shoulders and raised it to flex his biceps. “Look at that!”

With a roll of your eyes, you let your hand roam over his muscular arm slightly squeezing his biceps. “Okay, I’m impressed.”

“Ah! Thank you,” he said with a pleased smile. “Now, c’mon, s’ time to eat.”

Bucky got to his feet and extended his hand to help you up. You trailed behind him as you walked toward the kitchen. “I bet Steve could rip a log in half with his bare hands.”

“I’ll ask him.”

“Where is he?”

“Hard to say. He works for National Geographic now. I think he’s supposed to be in Siberia.”

You spent the next few days like tourists. You showed Bucky your favourite museums, stayed way too long in front of several artworks but he never complained. Bucky took you to the movies. You sat together in the dark for several hours watching foreign films, and you only fell asleep once. Then the two of you would walk around Manhattan speaking in a made-up language and pretending to be characters in a movie.

Bucky couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so carefree. A little voice in the back of his head kept repeating ‘enjoy it while it lasts’ but he chose to ignore it.

“Thanks for helping me with this,” Bucky said, gesturing at the tree in the living room. “She went to the store to buy some ornaments.”

He handed Sam a bottle of beer which he took with a smile before tipping it to his lips for a long drink. Bucky hit his beer bottle on the counter to uncap it and followed Sam into the living room.

“She’s excited, uh,” Sam said with a grin. “You guys are spending Christmas together?”

“Liss,” Bucky replied after taking a swig of beer. “We’re celebrating Liss this year.”

“’The hell is that?”

Bucky shrugged. “It’s an old word. It means comfort, happiness.” A respite from pain. “We decided to make our own holiday. We’re going to spend two days in our fanciest loungewear, eating junk food and playing board games.”

“Cute,” Sam drawled out. “When’s the wedding?”

“Don’t say that.” Bucky glared at him. “Why do you always do that? I finally feel at peace with myself. I’m happy, I’m ready to take on new challenges. Why do you always have to make fun of me?”

Sam’s eyes widened at this. “Woah, I’m joking. It’s what we do. You tease me, I tease you. C’mon, I know things have been hard for you. I’m proud of you,” he rushed to say, afraid he might have hurt his friend’s feelings, but then he caught Bucky’s barely concealed smirk behind his beer bottle. “You’re messing with me.”

“Of course, man. Can you say ‘I’m proud of you’ again? Wanna make it my ringtone.”

“Screw you.” They sipped their beer in silence, each deep in thought. “But you like her, right?”

Bucky twirled the neck of the bottle between two fingers. “I do, she’s nice.”

Sam shook his head like he was frustrated with the answer “That’s not what I mean, and you know it. Don’t bullshit me.”

“I’m not in love with her, Sam.”

“I never said anything about being in love.” He was silent for a moment before he added, “Beside there’s an entire world between like and love.”

Bucky caught a glimpse of hurt and fear in the depths of Sam’s eyes. He reminded him of Steve: strong yet vulnerable, generous and righteous. Bucky had a feeling Sam wasn’t talking about you.

“Is this about Natasha?”

Sam hung his head and stared at the beer bottle he rolled between his hands. “Sometimes I feel like it was inevitable. These sugar daddy relationships are complicated; at first it’s fun and easy, we both get what we want.” He took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. “And then it changes, so fast you barely see it coming, and it becomes the only thing you look forward to.” He took another swig of beer.

“These few hours with her mean more to me than anything else in this goddamn world. But it’s not real, none of this is real.”

“How do you know it’s not real?” Bucky asked, swallowing past the lump in his throat.

“I pay her.” Sam gave him a sad smile. “She spends time with me because I pay her. Sex wasn’t part of our deal but it came naturally. It’s going to end, one way or another. And If my time with her is limited, why make things complicated, y’see?”

An uneasy feeling gnawed at Bucky’s stomach, taunting him, trying to make him see something he wasn’t ready to see yet. “What if she feels the same way ‘bout you?”

“I don’t know,” Sam sighed. “To know that I’d have to talk to her, and I’d rather not take my chances. I’m happy with the way things are right now. It hurts, but I’m okay.” He leaned back and made himself comfortable. “You gotta be careful, Bucky. I see the way you look at your angel. You’re skating on thin fucking ice.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Like, love,” Sam said, weighing the two words. “And everything in between.”

They mulled over Sam’s words while they finished their beer. A million thoughts raged through Bucky’s head, circling around like wasps, buzzing and annoying. He was relieved when he heard the front door open.

“Italian leather loafers, mmh is Sam here?” you called out from the kitchen where you set your shopping bag down on the table before you joined them in the living room. “Hey guys! What’s the matter? You both look like someone kicked your puppy-OH MY GOD! LOOK AT THAT TREE!”

While you ran across the living room, Sam cast Bucky a look. The message was clear; be careful. They got to their feet and acted like nothing happened. Sam put on his coat and gave you a quick hug before he left.

Bucky was silent while you were decorating the tree. He let you decide where you wanted to put the tinsel and baubles. He just sat there with a vacant look in his eyes, handing baubles. A smile curled his lips when you cupped his cheek and ran the pad of your thumb along his cheekbone. He looked up at you.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Bucky said with a small smile. “Just old and moody.”

You laughed. “Come here, help me with this. It’s actually super boring when no one’s fighting for the baubles.”

“Oh, you wanna fight, angel,” he said with a smirk while he played with a tinsel garland. “Ok, let’s fight.”

You took a step back. “I’ve changed my mind.”

“Too late!”

You shrieked when he launched himself at you. He wrapped the tinsel garland around you, loosely pinning your arms to your sides. You laughed so hard your eyes watered and your shoulders shook. He used it to his advantage and looped two baubles over your ears like giant earrings.

Still laughing, you tugged one of your hands free and threw a handful of tinsel all over Bucky before you ran away. He chased you around the living room, using one of the fairy lights as a lasso.  

Soon, the living room was a giant mess. There was more tinsel in Bucky’s hair than on the tree, and you had managed to wrap the fairy lights around his body. You look pretty ridiculous with your giant earrings and dishevelled hair.

You and Bucky collapsed on the floor, out of breath and euphoric. The sun was starting to set behind the skyscrapers casting a warm golden glow over the room. You turned on the fairy lights and burst out laughing when Bucky sparkled like a tree.

He found his phone on the sofa and handed it to you. You opened up the camera app and nestled closer to him. The first photo was blurry because you couldn’t stop laughing. Bucky thought the second photo was nice but you didn’t like it.

“My smile is too wild,” you said.

“You look beautiful,” he argued. “I look like a Christmas tree.”

Bucky felt a pleasant stir in his belly when you placed your head on his shoulder. Be careful. He could practically hear Sam’s voice in his head. His chest was hurting. It wasn’t unpleasant, just peculiar and unexpected. He closed his eyes and rested his cheek on top of your head.

“Bucky! You have to open your eyes,” you scolded him after looking at the picture, unaware of his inner turmoil.

He wasn’t sure he could; tears were welling up in his eyes. He was terrified of his feelings for you, but his body was screaming at him to stop burying his head in the sand. He didn’t want you to see the tears in his eyes, he didn’t want to alarm you, because the truth was, he hadn’t been careful.

“Can’t. I’m comfy,” he replied, masking his true feelings behind a joke.

“Open them or I’ll tickle you.”

He chuckled. “Okay, okay, no need to use force.”

He soldiered on and opened his eyes, smiling at the camera. He liked you, and he promised himself he would never tell you. His feelings didn’t matter, it wasn’t part of your deal.

Part 7

[heraldofcomingdawn]

Leaving Immortality Behind

It turns out, Rex Lapis wasn’t really dead.

Xiao wants answers.

(A missing scene of sorts, for that first confrontation.)

WC: 4,006

General Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father-Son Relationship, Xiao Centric, Xiao Needs A Hug, Adepti Found Family, Xiao's Karmic Debt Causes Him Pain, Minor Childe/Zhongli,

happy birthday, to my baby yaskha! i almost didn’t finish this in time, but i did it for him!

It took three days to find him.

It wasn’t that the man in question was difficult to find. How could it be, when the Conqueror of Demons had spent millennia by the man’s side, had witnessed his many human forms over the years and could spot the minute differences between him and the other mortals? When he could feel the charge in the air whenever the Geo Archon was near?

No, it was more like a small - yet still significant - part of the younger Adeptus had been purposely avoiding looking too hard. 

Well, he found him.

Part of him wanted to pretend he hadn’t seen him, wanted to turn the other way just long enough for the ex-Archon (and wasn’t that a punch to the gut Xiao hadn’t fully processed yet) to make his leave, so he could spend yet another night pretending his emotions weren’t currently battling inside of him, conflicting and confusing. 

He’d thought he’d be relieved.

He was relieved.

But Xiao was also angry and betrayed and confused and upset, and it was such a whirlwind of unexpected emotion that he wanted nothing more than to manifest his jade spear and tear it all to shreds. He scoffed at himself; emotions were so insignificant to someone who had lived as long - and through as much - as someone like him. They were trivial matters he thought himself to be above, yet here he was, feeling like he was drowning. 

“Eager to leave, Conqueror of Demons?” Moon Carver’s words still echoed in his head, as he settled into a sitting position amongst the green tiles that made up his current perch. 

Very much so. 

Perhaps it had been the wrong thing to do, to leave without ensuring Liyue Harbor was truly safe, but how was he supposed to face the other adepti and pretend like something sharp wasn’t sitting in his throat after the Tianquan regaled them all with the details of her dream with Rex Lapis? 

Rex Lapis, who until that very moment, they all believed to be dead. 

The very same Rex Lapis who was currently enjoying dinner at the table below him -  very much alive - and sitting across from a red-haired man that set his nerve endings on fire with the strange energy that radiated off of him. Energy that wasn’t so unlike the miasma that dripped off monsters and demons sent from the Abyss. 

His eyes narrowed as he took in the details of his Archon’s companion and tried to ascertain whether he was a threat to his Lord or not. The red-haired man laughed loudly, blue eyes crinkling in delight at something Xiao hadn’t heard. He waved a hand towards a young, blue-haired allogene and requested something in Liyuen that would have confused Xiao even if the other man’s accent hadn’t been so atrocious. 

Come and get what?

His train of thought went no further as he heard Morax gently correcting the other man’s pronunciation, and oh Celestia above, his heart clenched. 

He was alive.

Xiao had spent several days believing that the man who saved him, who was the closest thing he had to family in this strange new world, was dead. He had also blamed himself for a brief moment - and anger had coursed through him when it was the traveler who came and delivered the news, rather than his own keen senses realizing something was amiss - because what good was a Vigilant Yaksha, a sworn protector of Liyue, if he couldn’t even protect the very Archon he owed his life to. If he hadn’t even known until it was too late. 

Tendrils of pain snaked around his wrists and brushed at his temples. 

He clenched his hands into fists, willing the burden of his karmic debt to stay away for just a moment longer, but it persisted. Perhaps this was a manifestation of his guilt, an all-consuming wave of bitterness and regret at not being there when the Exuvia fell. Perhaps it was his senses warning him that the man sitting across from Rex Lapis - Childe, his Lord had called him - wasn’t as innocent as his pink-dusted cheeks portrayed him to be. His fingers wrapped around the phurba dagger he wore around his neck as he watched them interact.

Whatever apprehensions he held toward Childe were slowly abated as they both listened to Rex Lapis regale them with the story behind the name of their meal (and oh! Come and Get It was the rice bowl they were consuming. 

How absurd - why can’t mortals just call it what it is?)

It was familiar territory, however, to listen to the man’s long-winded stories of his nation’s history and its people that he clearly loved, and it soothed the sharp edges of Xiao’s grief as leaned back and let the former Geo Archon’s soft lilt and smokey timbre wash over him.

Rex Lapis was alive.

Despite his warring emotions over it - and the betrayal he could taste like iron on his tongue - it would have to be enough. He could find a measure of comfort in the scene before him. 

The sun was nearly set now, the sky a rich twilight blue. 

There were a few stars out, pale white and barely visible, but still present enough to make out the constellations he had long ago memorized. The bustle of Chihu Rock was beginning to die down as merchants packed up their wares and bid each other goodnight. Soft laughter to the right of him crescendoed as the doors to the Third Round Knockout were pushed open and people filtered out, their faces warm and bellies full of whatever food and spirit they had indulged in. 

Lanterns were being lit now, their warm yellow light casting away the shadows that threatened the corners of Liyue’s streets. The smoke that had been gently billowing from an opening on the blue-shingled restaurant across from him had died down, as the owners - the blue-haired allogene and an older man - began to close up for the night. 

“Xiangling, take this to Granny Shan before she goes home for the night, will you?” the older man asked his daughter, handing over a takeout container. 

“You got it!” the blue-haired allogene returned, her voice young and full of life. She hurried out the door and paused at the only occupied table left, smiling down at the seated patrons who were finishing their meal. “No rush, you guys! I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Rex Lapis poured himself another cup of tea in response.

“What’s in the bag?” Childe asked, as he tried to fish out the last piece of meat in his bowl with the chopsticks he was gripping entirely wrong. Xiao’s eyes narrowed at the sight.

“Leftover pork and spring onion dumplings!” Xiangling replied, already walking away. “Dad doesn’t like food to go to waste and Granny Shan is such a sweet lady,  don’t you think? Who else better to give them to?”

“I couldn’t agree more.” 

This was Liyue at it’s finest, safe and full of warmth. 

For a second he can almost pretend he doesn’t hear the harrowing voices screaming for death or feel the pain that’s thrumming up to his forearms now. He can almost ignore the memories that threaten to overtake him every time he allows himself a moment of peace. 

The few days he thought Rex Lapis to be dead had blurred together. There had only been the steady weight of his spear in his hands and the familiar darkness that surrounded him whenever he donned his yaksha mask, as he lunged tirelessly and with a fervor that had worried the other adepti, as he seeked out every last demon and monster that dared to cross Dihua Marsh. 

If any of them had been responsible for his Lord’s death. . .

He should have been better.

Eventually, Cloud Retainer had caught up with him and all but pecked the jade spear out of his hand. He had scowled at her, hands shaking with exhaustion as he held the tip to her long neck and dared her to come closer. 

“One has been searching for you, Vigilant Yaksha.”

“One has found me.” Xiao returned, his voice sharp and mocking. 

“Put down your spear.” she commanded, looking down at him. “Rex Lapis’ death weighs heavily on us all, but one does not leave behind a trail of bodies like you have been doing.”

They stared at each other for a moment longer before he allowed the weapon to disappear in a flicker of light that reminded him of tiny crystalflies dispersing into the sky, but otherwise remained silent. 

“We must head to Liyue Harbor and seek council with the Qixing.” Cloud Retainer informed him, eyes narrowed as she studied him intensely. “It would be wise of you to come with. Their disrespect for Rex Lapis has gone too far - one should quash them for allowing such a thing to befall our Archon, but for them to sit idly by and do nothing while the Exuvia is stowed away. . .” 

Xiao hadn’t been able to withhold a wince at the words. 

Cloud Retainer’s voice softened at that. “If Rex Lapis has indeed been assassinated, then Liyue is in great peril, Baby Yaksha.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“We must not allow further disaster to bestow itself upon the land Morax loved - one promised to keep it safe, did we not? Rest for now, tomorrow we shall leave for the harbor.”

She hadn’t left him, but instead guided him to the top of Mt. Aozang where she dwelled, and left him to his own devices after gently pecking the top of his head. He had sat in a stone chair for the rest of the night, staring at Rex Lapis’ name carved into the table, and mourned the end of an era. 

His grief - his pain - had been for naught, hadn’t it?

“I have to get going now, xiansheng.” Childe’s voice cut through his thoughts. He straightened up a little and watched as the red-haired man stood up and smoothed out his grey jacket. 

“I understand.” Rex Lapis replied, his voice solemn. 

Childe grinned down at the man and reached into his pocket, pulling out a pouch Xiao could only assume was filled with mora. “Oh, don’t look so grim! I’d love to stay and chat a little longer, but there’s some business I need to take care of, before I leave.”

“Business that requires the stars to keep watch?” his Lord returned, and Xiao could detect a hint of knowing bemusement. “Very well.”

“Oh, sneaky! You know I can’t disclose Fatui business to you, Zhongli. The walls have ears, after all.” Childe laughed and Xiao’s annoyance at this man’s audacity for speaking to his Lord in such a way was derailed when he spoke Rex Lapis’ other name.

Zhongli.

So this was the name he’d chosen to introduce himself as, this time around. It wasn’t a new name, by any means, but it had also been a very long time since Xiao had heard Rex Lapis - Zhongli - refer to himself as such. Not since Guizhong was still alive. 

He watched as Childe paid for the meal and bid Zhongli goodnight, before making his leave towards Feiyun Slope. His crimson scarf flared out behind him and the metal grommets that decorated the fabric glinted in the lantern light. He thought he could make out the faint trails of wispy black smoke that followed him, almost caressing him like a soft breeze. 

There was something dangerous about that man and he thought to follow him, if only because Xiao had vowed to never allow demons to walk amongst the people of Liyue. Childe was most certainly mortal, but Xiao would never again allow his failure to dictate the future of the harbor.

Except he hadn’t failed, had he?

Because Rex Lapis was very much alive, with his chin resting on his hands as he watched the retreating form of Childe with a solemn look on his face, his abandoned cup of tea no longer producing steam. 

His grief had been for naught indeed. 

And the relief that had followed had been short-lived, almost immediately giving way to his anger. The same anger that curled in his stomach now as he thought of how Zhongli had been silent ever since the big reveal. There was a part of him that had hoped the Archon would seek him out first, to explain just why he had faked his death without letting the yaksha - or any of the adepti, for that matter - know beforehand. 

Yet three days had already passed and still nothing. 

“You might as well come down now.” Zhongli’s voice cut through the silence, his back still to him, and Xiao startled. “I think we’ve both put off this conversation long enough.”

Xiao stood up slowly and stared down at the other man. Zhongli had yet to turn around and truly acknowledge him, still staring in the direction of Feiyun Slope and his departed friend. He jumped down from the rooftop, landing on his feet with the lightest thud, and approached the table.

Zhongli looked up at him once he had taken Childe's place. 

This was a new mortal form Xiao had yet to see, but the locks of amber-tipped hair that framed his face and the eyes that shone like Cor Lapis that were present in every form Rex Lapis had taken, were the same. He eyed him warily, debating with himself whether he should speak first or not - whether he would even be able to produce the right words. 

“Hello, Xiao.”

“My Lord.” he whispered back, bowing his head.

“There’s no need for any of that anymore.” Rex Lapis smiled gently. “I am simply Zhongli now.”

Something inside of Xiao crumbled. “Zhongli.”

“It is nice to see you well.” 

The sharp feeling in his throat was back and he forced himself to swallow it down. He tried to take a breath, but it came out broken and staggered. Shame burned on his face at his unintentional show of weakness and he bowed his head lower. 

“Oh, Xiao.” Zhongli breathed out and his eyes were sad. “Let us take a walk, it has been a while since I’ve traversed the streets of Liyue with you by my side.” 

Their walk was directionless as far as Xiao was concerned. He trailed half a step behind Zhongli, eyes downcast, as he tried to compose himself. Anger was an easy enough emotion to grab onto, justified enough for the situation, and didn’t leave him floundering and vulnerable the way addressing his hurt did. 

He stopped suddenly and clenched his hands into fists again. The tendrils of pain were growing in intensity and he used them as a way to ground himself. Despite his anger, despite Zhongli’s desire to give up his throne, he was still the Prime Adepti, still his Lord, and still deserving of respect. Yelling at him, as cathartic as it would be, was pointless. “Why,” he began, then stopped to clear his throat, “why didn’t you tell me. Tell us.”

“I couldn’t.” 

Xiao raised an eyebrow and stared him down, refusing to accept that as an answer. 

Zhongli sighed. “I fear my answer won't satisfy you." 

"All I ask for is the truth." 

"I suppose I can give you that." Zhongli mused, but his expression was pained. He looked towards Mt. Tianheng and gestured to the other side of the bridge they were on. "Indulge me, first? I would like to finish our walk."

Xiao nodded.

They reached the peak soon enough. Zhongli stood at the edge of the mountain and took in the sight of Liyue Harbor. The outline of the wharf stood proud against the backdrop of the black sea, bathed in silver moonlight that reflected shapeless patterns on the rolling waves. The wharf was the pride of Liyue, the reason the land prospered as it had. 

It was a beautiful sight, even dark as it was with all the workers and merchants gone for the night, the last of the lanterns burned out. The Golden House glimmered to the right, that same silver light glinting off the metal finials that adorned its roof. In the far distance, the rock formations of Guyun Stone Forest loomed over the water. 

He shivered at the sight. 

The horizon was a beautiful one, carefully cultivated over millennia of hard work and bloodshed. The tendrils of pain wrapped themselves around him now and he held back a wince by sheer will alone, as he took in the stone spears placed by Rex Lapis himself. They kept the fallen gods pinned in place but the cost of their defeat still raged on as demons spawned. 

It was his duty to take care of them, one he did with honor, for he would give all he had in service of the man who’d freed him. Even if the Archon had passed before him, for this was the land Zhongli loved - fought for and created - and Xiao refused to let harm come to the only home he had ever known.

Behind them and to the left, the mountain peaks and ruins stretched on, crumbling rock structures that had been formed by hand long ago, now weathered and eroded into an open book that spoke of the nation’s history. 

Eventually the silence was broken when Zhongli decided to speak. "I think, if given the chance, there are many things I would do over," he began, "but I do not regret any of them, for when you've lived a life as long as I have, regret is something that can consume you.” He looked over to the ruins. “Even stone will eventually erode away."

Xiao stayed silent. 

"Saving you, however, is something I would do again and again."

"My Lord -" Xiao cut himself off. "Zhongli." he tried again, but it felt wrong to address him as such. Either way, he didn’t have words. 

Zhongli turned to look at him and gestured for him to step closer. He obliged and stiffened when the Archon placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it gently. "I am sorry for the grief I put you through. I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but it's also something I would do again."

Xiao winced. 

"The truth is, Xiao, I'm tired."

"I don't understand."

"I have watched over Liyue for nearly four thousand years. I've been alive for much longer than that. Eventually, you start to wonder when it's going to end. I have seen Liyue grow and prosper in ways I hadn't thought possible. I have watched Guili Plains crumble into the ruins they are today when once. . .once, they were home. Now it is a place no one else remembers." Zhongli's grip slackened. "Liyue doesn't need me anymore."

"Zhongli-" Xiao began, alarmed. 

"Breathe, my baby yaksha, breathe." Zhongli chuckled lightly. "It is not as you think - Liyue has simply grown past the need for Archons. It is ready to stand on its own two feet."

“I’m not -” he began, but gave up. “So you faked your death.”

“I believe that if I had simply stepped down, the Qixing would never truly step up. No, I needed to kill off the idea of Rex Lapis for good. The people of Liyue needed to understand that this was truly the end of an era.”

Xiao couldn’t stop the anger that laced his tone. “You felt this wasn’t something I - we - deserved to know?”

Zhongli’s smile turned bitter at the edges. “Before I could truly step down, I decided a test was in order, to see if Liyue was truly ready. I must admit, I did it simply to quell my own anxieties.”

“A test?”

“I wanted to see if the Adepti of Jueyun Karst and the Qixing could work together to protect the land, if the time ever called for it, or if the adepti would simply decide their contract with Liyue - their promise to protect it - would end with my death.”

“Osial?”

“Unexpected.” Zhongli admitted, and he looked towards Guyun with amusement. “Still, I had forced Childe’s hand and I expected something grandiose from him - that he was able to lift the seals that kept Osial imprisoned is impressive.”

“Your dinner companion did all of this?” Xiao asked, warily. “And you asked him too?”

“A bit more nuanced than that, but yes.”

“I see.”

Silence fell over them again as Xiao mulled over everything. “Speaking of your dinner companion. . .” he began, remembering the traces of miasma that had clung to the man like wisps of smoke. Zhongli’s expression turned downcast at the mention of his friend and Xiao faltered. 

“He will be gone tomorrow.”

“Pardon?”

“I am pleased he indulged me in one last meal.” Zhongli smiled grimly. “Even after I used him as a pawn, he still dined with me. I have no doubt the betrayal stings him, but tomorrow he’ll leave for Snezhnaya and I do not know if he’ll return.”

Xiao let the conversation drop. There was no point if the threat would be gone tomorrow. He would simply keep an eye on his potential return and wait till then. He wondered if Zhongli could not sense the darkness that surrounded the man, or if he simply chose to ignore it. Neither would surprise him. He was cursed - blessed, some would say - with the ability to sense demonic energy and the stench of the Abyss. 

It was the same for the other Yakshas, was the reason Rex Lapis had tasked them with fighting the demons that formed from the anger and hatred of the fallen gods, but now only he remained. If Rex Lapis - Zhongli, now - could not sense the darkness, Xiao would watch it for him.

The pain heightened and this time, he couldn’t keep silent. 

“You are in pain.” Zhongli said matter-of-factly, for this was nothing new to them. Eventually the pain would overtake him to the point where he could no longer see and all he could do was persevere and wait for it to end.

“It is manageable.”

“Do you still have pain medicine?”

“No.”

“Do you wish for me to get you more?”

“Yes.” Xiao lied, because even after all these years, he still couldn’t find it in him to tell Rex Lapis the truth: that the pain medication he so laboriously made for him never seemed to work. The pain in the Archon’s eyes, as he watched the younger Adeptus suffer as a result of his own victories, hurt worse than the karmic debt that burrowed itself into his flesh and demanded retribution. “I would like that.”

Zhongli hummed. “I will prepare it in the morning. For now, when was the last time you slept?”

I don’t need to sleep.”

“Perhaps not as much as a mortal does.” the ex-Archon mused. “But it is still something one can indulge in.”

“It can wait another night.” Xiao deflected. “I still have questions.”

Zhongli shook his head and exhaled lightly. He sat down on the grass and adjusted his coat, so he wouldn’t sit on the embroidered fabric and patted the spot beside him. “If it’s any consolation, I won’t go anywhere.” He locked eyes with Xiao and smiled when the yaksha laid down with an annoyed huff. “You can ask me in the morning.”

“I’m still angry at you.”

“I know.” Zhongli murmured, shifting a little so he could place his hand on Xiao’s head. Gloved fingers carded through strands of teal hair gently; rhythmically. “I know we still have much to talk about, but we have all the time in the world. Sleep, my baby yaksha, and know I’ll be here for as long as I am able.”

Sleep would not cause the pain to abate - if only it was that easy - but for the moment, it became manageable. For the moment, his anger dwindled and took a backseat to the contentment that bloomed in his chest. For the moment, the world was safe. 

If only because Rex Lapis was still here with him.

Tomorrow could wait. 

--

a/n: maybe one day ill write the full length chili fic i set up in here.

[aeonchangeling]

Sunny AU Drabble

Just something I came up with when I was at work. Based on the AU @pageofheartdj came up with and our discussions about it. MK struggled to breathe through the pain in his lungs. It hurt, everything hurt, and his body screamed when he forced himself to his feet. None of them even knew what this demon was, but it was huge, and they were losing. Badly. The transformation had failed, stop this.... this thing that was attacking the city. The Monkey King had taught it to him on the spot, MK knew he had wanted to wait to teach him how to enter the six-armed, three-headed war form. It was a form not to be used lightly but they were quickly running out of options.  The young hero had a sick feeling in his stomach at the notion that his mentor had to have been that desperate to teach him something so dangerous so soon... “Kid!” His vision needed a moment to come back to him as he looked for the source of the voice. He spotted Monkey on his cloud, flying towards him, looking about as beat up as MK felt. That didn’t bode well for their situation. The immortal hopped from the cloud and grabbed his successor, relieved to see he was in one piece. Once he was able to assess the worst of the damage, he turned his gaze to the dark eyes staring at him. “You did good bud, you did real good,” he felt the panic calming in his chest, if only for the safety of his student. His worry for the rest of the city though and its inhabitants... “...bud, I have an idea,” he said quietly, “But you’re not gonna like it.” “Whatever it is, I’ll do it,” MK panted, using the staff to support himself. “No... not you,” Monkey said quietly, shaking his head, “I’m gonna try something...” “Y-You are? What is it...?” He didn’t answer, quietly reaching for some hair on his head and plucked a few strands. Under normal circumstances MK would start theorizing and asking questions, but the quiet panting spoke volumes. He blew on the hair and they transformed into duplicates of himself... They instantly grabbed onto MK and held him tight. “What the-?! W-What are you doing?!” “It’s for your own safety... and to keep you from trying to stop me,” Monkey answered as his cloud formed around his feet again. “Stop you? Why would you-” The understanding was apparent on MK’s face. He found his second wind and began to struggle against the duplicates, screaming and begging. Telling him not to do whatever he had in mind. “Take care of yourself bud.” MK screamed as his mentor flew out of sight, headed straight for the demon’s face. It was painfully quick. There was a flash and he felt the duplicates vanish before everything went black. When MK opened his eyes for the second time in less than two minutes, a golden haze had consumed the city. He knew it wasn’t his golden vision... and... and... “...Monkey...?” He looked up to where the giant monster had been a moment ago... It was gone... There was a knot in MK’s throat. Monkey... was gone... He dropped the staff-no, his staff... His legs gave out from under him. The tears came first, the numb shock faded, and the sobs followed. He didn’t know how long he was there for, his sense of time had blurred hours ago and now it was entirely gone. It made the grief and mourning stretch into eternity for the young hero, he cried and cried until he felt entirely hollowed out. He didn’t know what Monkey had done... some sort of overload of power and spells concentrated into a single attack. Something beyond a mere mortal’s comprehending... He found himself stumbling through the wreckage of the city, it had been evacuated two days ago, when the demon first appeared. None of them had expected it to last more than an hour, not three days. They had been fighting in shifts but the exhaustion had caught up with them, and now... He sniffled and wiped his face on his now filthy jacket. It was coated in dust and dried blood, both his and the Monkey King’s... He didn’t know when he had made it to the crater left behind by that final attack, he didn’t even remember climbing down into it. He just... stood there, in the quiet and staring into the golden haze. It was already starting to face, ever so slightly... the last act of a truly great king. He was supposed to be immortal, he was supposed to be impossible to kill... How much power had he used to completely burn through it all? How much had been to destroy that... that thing? How much had been to avoid causing further damage to the city? He’d never know now. MK didn’t know what the strange rock came into his line of sight. Some new threat could have manifested right in front of him and declare their plan to destroy the world and the young hero probably wouldn’t have processed it at all. So a single odd rock needed time to register to his mind... ...and something about it was... familiar? He knelt down and stared at it. It... kind of looked like... An egg. A stone egg... And then he remembered the oldest story about Sun Wukong. “...no way...“ He touched the rock, it was oddly warm...

[skyguy-snips]

Chapter 1: Arrival on Saleucami

Book 2: Cut and Run

Words: 1792

Masterlist | Tag List

Chapter 2

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

As the group flew through hyperspace, Tech sitting in the pilot chair, it was strangely quiet. Skylar turned around, walking to stand by Echo. They looked on, Wrecker and Omega both sound asleep on the floor, the main hold a disaster. Hunter walked up behind them, letting out a chuckle.

“Huh, well this is a first,” he said, smiling fondly at the two. Skylar just smiled, her heart feeling a bit happier. Echo nodded, not taking his eyes off of the scene.

“Inspecting every corner of the ship finally tired her out,” Echo said, smiling.

“Yeah, she’s curious. I’ll give her that,” Hunter said. Echo turned to him.

“Hunter, she’s a child,” he sighed, “What are we gonna do with her?” Skylar turned to them then, a determined look on her face.

“We’re going to protect her. She didn’t need to be on Kamino. She’s one of us now,” she said. Just then, an alert sounded from the cockpit.

“We are coming up on Saleucami,” Tech called, Hunter glancing at him over his shoulder. He turned to walk to the front, Skylar following him. They exited hyperspace, the planet appearing ahead of them.

“I’m going to go wake up those two,” Skylar said, turning back to go to the hold. She put her hand on Wrecker’s shoulder, leaning down a bit.

“Wrecker,” she said softly in a singsong voice, smiling as he grumbled, “we’re here.” He stretched his arms, eyes slowly opening as he looked around. She moved to Omega next, kneeling down to run a hand through the girl’s hair. Omega leaned into her touch, a soft smile on her face as she kept sleeping.

“Omega, sweetheart, time to get up,” she said softly, watching as she opened her eyes and looked around, confused for a moment before she saw Skylar and smiled. They all got up, moving to grab their things as Tech landed the ship in a field.

The ramp lowered and they all stepped out into the sunshine. Skylar glanced over her shoulder, watching Omega hesitate before stepping out, squinting at the brightness. She stopped, turning around with a soft smile on her face in understanding. This kid had never set foot on another planet, much less one with so much sunlight.

Skylar nudged Hunter as he walked past, the man turning to see what she was looking at. The others noticed they had stopped, and they turned to look at Omega.

“What’s with her?” Wrecker said. Skylar held up her hand to silence him, and they watched as she knelt to the ground, picking up a handful of dirt and letting it fall between her fingers.

“Whoa,” she said, watching the dust, “what is this?”

“That would be dirt,” Tech said, Skylar rolling her eyes at his shortness.

“It’s amazing,” she gasped getting up. She spun around, dragging her foot in the dirt and kicking up a cloud of dust as she laughed. She jumped over towards them, pausing when she realized they were all staring at her. She looked at Hunter as he gave her a soft smile.

He then glanced to the side, noticing storm clouds in the distance.

“C’mon, let’s get moving,” he said, turning to lead the group. Skylar brought up the rear, Omega trailing behind her as she took in all of the different things around her.

They walked through a field, weaving between the tall plants in a single file line. Skylar could hear a soft ‘whoa’ from Omega every now and then, causing a small smile on her face.

“So this friend of yours, what’s he doing all the way out here?” Echo asked from in front of Wrecker, skeptical of their contact.

“Hiding,” Tech replied, “That’s what deserters do.” Echo was startled at that.

“Staying off the radar’s not our specialty, but he’s been doing it for years,” Hunter added from the front of the line.

“And you trust a deserter?” Echo questioned, still wary.

“Why not?” Skylar asked from the back of the group, “We’re all deserters now.”

Hunter stopped then, raising a fist to signal the others. They grouped behind him, looking around. Omega kept walking, however, and Skylar reached an arm out to stop her.

“What are we looking at?” Omega asked Hunter, noticing the rope running along the ground.

“A booby trap,” Hunter said, unconcerned. Wrecker pushed past them, scoffing.

“Single trip wire,” he laughed, stepping over it, “that’s cute.” He backed up further, crossing a laser sensor that caused six B1 battle droids to pop up. He yelled as he drew his blaster and shot at them.

“Easy, Wrecker!” Hunter yelled, the larger man pausing to look at him. Then he realized the droids weren’t active, just props.

“Was that me?” he asked, Hunter frowning at him as Skylar shook her head in exasperation.

“What do we have here?” spoke an accented voice, all of them whipping around to see two people carrying weapons. “More clones who have lost their way.”

Skylar lit up, happy to see her friends again.

“It’s been a while, fellas.”

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

They moved to the Lawquanes’ home, sitting around the table as they brought them drinks and food.

“I see a few new faces,” Suu said, glancing at Echo and Omega.

“Echo and Omega,” Hunter said, gesturing to the two, “Cut and Suu.” Suu waved at Omega.

“Pleased to meet you,” she said, giving Echo a smile.

“Ma’am,” Echo responded with a nod. Cut sat quietly for a moment, before his face grew confused.

“Where’s Crosshair?” he asked. Skylar’s face dropped as she turned her gaze to the table top.

“It’s… complicated,” Hunter replied, glancing at Skylar. Cut leaned back in his chair, a look of understanding on his face.

“Sounds familiar,” he said, “Rex told us about the clone troopers turning against the Jedi.”

This had Skylar and Echo’s attention immediately.

“You talked to Rex? When?” Skylar said, leaning forward in her chair. Cut finished the sip of his drink before he answered.

“Well, he passed through yesterday,” he replied, Skylar glancing at Echo and him looking back at her, both of them with hope in their eyes.

“Where’d he go?” Echo asked, turning back to Cut

“Didn’t ask,” Cut said, an apologetic look on his face. He knew that Skylar had worked closely with Rex for a long time, and she was there when Rex was injured and the clone and his family took care of him.

“He was going on about some behavioral implant,” Cut continued, shrugging his shoulders. Omega stepped between Hunter and Skylar’s chairs, suddenly interested in the conversation.

“He must mean the inhibitor chip,” she offered. Hunter turned to her.

“The what?”

“Inhibitor chips. The Kaminoans implanted them in the clones to modify their behavior,” she explained. Hunter leaned forward, looking at Tech seated at the other end of the table.

“Tech, you said the regs were programmed, but you never mentioned a chip,” Hunter said.

“How else did you think it worked?” he retorted, shrugging his shoulders. Just then, the back door flew open, two kids running in.

“Mom, Dad! There’s a ship outside!” they shouted as they ran to their parents. Wrecker’s face lit up, walking around the side of the table.

“Shaeeah, Jek! Remember me?” he said, smiling at the two. The kids’ faces broke out into even bigger grins as they ran towards him.

“Uncle Wrecker!” they both cheered, Wrecker lifting Shaeeah up in the air. Skylar chuckled at the sweetness of the moment causing both of the kids to turn to her.

“You brought Sky this time!” Jek yelled, both of the kids running to hug her. Skylar jumped out of her chair, running over to where Wrecker was standing near Cut and Suu, hugging both of them back.

“I missed you guys! You gotta stop growing, you’ll be taller than Wrecker soon!” she said, grinning at them. The kids giggled, turning back around. They paused however, when they noticed Omega.

“Who are you?” Shaeeah asked. Omega hid slightly behind Hunter’s chair, suddenly very shy.

“Omega,” she said warily. The other two kids just smiled.

“We never see kids around here,” Shaeeah said, grabbing Omega’s hand and pulling her towards the door. “Come with us.”

Omega paused at the door, turning to look at Hunter. He nodded his head, giving her a soft smile of encouragement and then she followed the other kids outside. Hunter watched her go fondly, taking a sip from his drink. Skylar turned and looked at Cut and Suu, all of them sharing knowing looks.

Skylar had seen a softer side of Hunter plenty of times. He could be harsh when he was acting as their Sergeant, but any other time he was caring and kind with her and his brothers. However, this felt different. The smile on his face was easy, no signs of stress to be found. Skylar knew he was already attached to Omega and would do anything to protect her.

Hunter turned back around to the group, the smile dropping into a confused frown when he noticed Skylar, Cut, and Suu’s knowing smirks. None of them said anything, just diving right back into conversation.

Hunter stood, walking to the doorway and leaning against it, watching the three kids run around the backyard. Skylar watched him, her heart warm. She suddenly felt sad, though, that Crosshair wasn’t there. She knew they’d be laughing, Suu and him bickering as usual. Cut walked by her, moving to go talk to Hunter. She frowned and stepped towards the edge of the room, crossing her arms as she looked down at the floor.

“Sky, are you okay?” Tech asked quietly, walking from his spot at the table to stand in front of her. She just shrugged, not looking up at him. He placed a hand on her shoulder, the other gently lifting her chin up. She met his eyes, understanding flashing across his face.

“You can talk to me, you know,” he said, giving her a sad smile. She sighed.

“I don’t know what to do, Tech,” she started, feeling herself getting emotional, “I miss him so much that it hurts.” He nodded, pulling her into a hug. She startled a bit, Tech not one to offer physical affection very often, but she relaxed quickly and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“It is very common for strong sadness or grief to manifest itself as physical pain,” he said. She didn’t say anything for a moment, both of them just hugging each other. He heard her sniffle, feeling her shake a bit as she cried. He squeezed her tighter, placing a hand on the back of her head as she buried her face into his neck. He sighed, his eyes falling shut.

“I miss him, too.”

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

Tag List (request to be added here)

@hanns1d @photowizard17 @wondergal2001 @xsweetchanx@zombiedixon89

[luna-rainbow]

I’m so sad that it looks like Wanda’s going to be the main villain of Doctor Strange 2. I know it’s what a lot of people want and that it’s a famous storyline with her, but just because a story is iconic or famous doesn’t mean it’s not ableist as fuck. I don’t understand it, I thought that we were tired of seeing women portrayed as going mad and becoming evil but everyone seems to be actively rooting for this. Idk I guess I’m just so tired of my two favorite characters (Bucky and Wanda) being constantly vilified by Marvel, not to mention their horrible vilification of people with mental illness.

That was exactly my reaction to the news too! (This might devolve into a long off-topic rant). Of what little we've heard about Dr Strange 2, there's 2 things I'm worried about.

First, I'll talk about Wanda because my rant about Dr Strange went for wayyyy too long. When I heard the news I was unsurprised (because of WV ending) but also annoyed. Wanda's entire character arc so far, and particularly in the series, was about reconciling with the depth of her trauma and controlling her powers. This girl has been through a lot, and she gets things wrong a lot too, but consistently, she is trying to do the right thing. Her growth throughout the the movies and the series was all centered around her desire to not hurt people, but also her struggles to manage her own pain and not let it manifest in a way that hurts the people around her. The resolution of WV was her willingly give up the illusion that she craved - the family, the home, the brother, her love - so people stopped being hurt. Given MCU's poor track record of carrying through character development, I feel like her becoming a villain will just mean they will ignore all the growth she's made and negate the suffering (and sacrifice) she put herself through to give it up. Sure, she caused the problem in the first place and people were hurt, but her loss and grief as she wiped her sons and Vision from existence is real.

And yes...it will continue to perpetuate the message (as TFATWS did with both John and Bucky) that people with PTSD are not only sad, they're raving mad and murderous and need to be kept away from society for their own good.

In the next part of my essay I'm going to talk about Dr Strange, so feel free to skip.

I really looked forward to his first movie (cocky surgeon, good cast, magic) but I walked out disappointed. It wasn't bad, per se, but the plot seemed eerily parallel to Iron Man (cocksure millionaire learns humility) without having the heart of Iron Man. I think part of it is because there was nothing grounding Stephen - Rachel McAdams' character was no Pepper for sure. It also never brought Stephen back to his real life to show us what the real world consequences of him becoming a superhero meant, so it existed in this weird sort of vacuum of time-space, which lessened the impact of his character development. The emotional climaxes were all derived from short term relationships. I feel like this is the first movie MCU really fumbled the characterisation - you can see the great actors trying to make something out of what little they had, but we just never got the heart of Stephen Strange. We don't know what holds him to this world - as we do with Tony or Thor or Steve - we don't know what he's fighting for, what or who he loves, what he sees in the world that makes him want to put his life down for. Remember this is a guy they established as a self-centered cynic right at the start. I just didn't get a moment where he looked at the world and thought, "Ah...as much as humans are nasty little shits, there is still some beauty in this world that's worth protecting." Not me and my cynicism on full display.

Sorry, the purpose of the long rant above is to say - it sounds like they're turning Dr Strange 2 into an ensemble movie, and we already know how the last solo-turned-ensemble fest went. Stephen Strange really needs at least another solo movie to develop him. I want to see more of his rivalry with Mordo. I want to see how he balances his superhero duties with his real life. I want to see his relationship with Christine develop into something more substantial. I don't want him to be in a movie where he gets dragged along by the plot, gets sidelined to introduce new tentpole characters, and only saves the world because that's his superhero duty. Side-eyes TFATWS.

That said, it's being directed by Sam Raimi, so maybe there is some hope.

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

Do you think in season 3, Hawk seeing Demetri interacting with other people caused him to get somewhat jealous. Before Hawk destroyed Demetri’s project, they zoomed in on Hawks face looking over at Demetri talking to Yaz and Moon and he looked jealous. Then after it’s like he lit up when he was talking with Demetri after destroying the project. I might be reading to much into it but the way the scene played out felt like jealously from Hawk!

Oh my, I’m getting so many questions in my inbox about the binary boys and I’m delighted! :D Keep them coming friends!!!

To answer your question, YES, I absolutely think Hawk was pretty jealous when he saw Demetri chatting with Moon and Yasmine. Now, of course the Straight^TM explanation we’re probably meant to think is that he was jealous Demetri was talking to his ex, but I think it’s deeper than that. I imagine for a long while, Eli was one of the ONLY people Demetri ever talked to and had friendly conversations with regularly, and vice versa. Being the antisocial “losers,” they probably didn’t have a lot besides each other social life-wise. Even when they befriend Miguel and some of the other Cobra Kais like Aisha, they’re still always doing it together.

And now, seeing Demetri holding his own and seamlessly making new friends WITHOUT Hawk...well, I imagine it’s completely foreign to him. And he doesn’t like it, even though Hawk’s got a bunch of his own “cool new friends” now. Because he remembers when he was all Demetri had, and now he’s gotta face up to the fact that Demetri doesn’t actually NEED him or his friendship to be happy, and deep down inside...well, I bet Hawk’s pretty hurt by that. Because hey, even growing up as the weird kid with the lip scar, at least ONE person always valued him and his company, even if that person was his equally lame and nerdy best friend. And now, lo and behold, the one person who wanted him around when no one else did could give less of a damn if he’s there or not, because Demetri doesn’t need Hawk to not get lonely anymore.

And, of course, there could also be a layer of bitterness directed at Yas and Moon specifically, because Hawk’s probably thinking “You only like him now that he’s cool and confident, but I was his friend back when he was a geeky, insecure mess no one wanted anything to do with.” Of course, being as deeply buried in his masculinity issues as he is, Hawk probably doesn’t think this on a conscious level. He’s probably just as fooled as the audience is into thinking he’s JUST upset about Moon. But I really doubt that’s all it is, considering a) Demetri’s never shown any romantic interest in Moon in particular and b) she IS still very much taken, as far as Hawk knows. He’s got no real reason to see Demetri as a threat to that relationship...or what’s left of it, anyways.

Even without the romantic subtext (which I’d definitely say IS there--you’re not crazy, don’t worry! I mean...I’m trash for this ship, should be obvious XD)...speaking from experience, seeing someone you were once extremely close friends with befriending new people and leaving you behind is incredibly painful, and a little off-puttingly strange, too. It often feels...wrong, like something you’ve always seen as a given is being uprooted and replaced with something completely foreign that doesn’t make any sense to you. Even when you’ve got beef with said old friend for whatever reason...well, sometimes said beef only really starts FEELING insurmountable when you get a glimpse of them leading a perfectly happy life without you. You realize for the first time they’re not going to come crawling back and groveling and apologizing so they don’t have to be alone. Maybe the project-destroying scene is when it dawns on Hawk how fully he’s lost Demetri, and the grief of it comes out all at once--at the most inconvenient time, no less. And, Hawk being Hawk, of course said grief manifests as anger and spite first and foremost (I mean...come on!!! Look how he reacts to losing his relationship with Moon!!! He’s angry with her, and wants to spite her later on by flirting with Piper) and so he destroys Demetri’s project.

And oh boy...factor in the romantic feelings I see Hawk as having for Demetri--or at least HAVING had, at some point in the past--and it’s just 10x as much of a FeelsBadMan moment for Hawk when he sees Demetri truly beginning to leave him behind. Hawk is a loyal dude (that’s why he took the “betrayal” of Cobra Kai via bad yelp review way too damn hard), and loyal people also tend to be a little possessive. Speaking, uh...speaking as a very loyal person myself who has had issues getting a liiiiiittle possessive of my friends in the past ^^; When you give undying loyalty, some part of you expects it in return, even if you don’t consciously admit it to yourself. And oh man...that’s amplified like 50x when you have a crush on someone, unfortunately. So the part of Hawk, no matter how repressed, that still sees Demetri as his #1, his best friend, the guy he may or may not secretly be in love with, just feels so...lost and abandoned at the prospect of Dem leaving him in the dust.

So naturally he smashes his lego project and makes everything objectively worse XD

WHOOPS this answer didn’t mean to be this long, but then I got captured by The Spirit of the Ramble XD

[lostsoulaltair]

OnS Chapter 99. Yuichiro Hyakuya/Amane - Deep Analysis

Hello everyone, I hope you’re doing alright, one of the things I’ve noticed is one of the most controvertial characters within the series and that character is Yuichiro Hyakuya, the main protagonist of the story.

Therefore, I’d like to make a deep analysis on him due to his psychology and his bevaior. 

P.S: THEORIES AND ANALYSIS ARE HELD WITHIN NEUTRAL VIEW. SHIPS ARE EXCLUDED.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hi3D_PnaxT0

Yuichiro Hyakuya is well known for being the main protagonist of Vampire Reign; but of course, like any other character within the story; he has had his hardships within the past along the fact that he was something without form but rather, someone treated as an object or a synthetic human by Sika Madu.

It is well known that Yuichiro had quite the personality before he befriended Mikaela Hyakuya; he didn’t consider the Hyakuya orphanage his family until the events with Ferid Bathory changed his life:

Image taken from Seraph of the End: Vampire Reign - Chapter 01

Of course, this only made Yu fear of bonding with other people; the only figure he could rely on was Guren since he was his saviour, a person that found him lost in a destroyed world; but even after Guren picked him up and trained him to defend against others; he couldn’t interact with people; Yu was left unable to make friends nor wanted to follow up orders; which eventually gave him the result of going to a school in order to bond with others; thus leading with the encounter of Shinoa Hiragi:

Image taken from Seraph of the End: Vampire Reign - Chapter 02

Shinoa was tasked to keep an eye on Yu but along with this, she was also ordered to make sure Yu was able to make friends; and of course, her being an observant, she detected easily Yu’s fear which was to make friends or find the love of his life, though of course Yu wasn’t having such thoughts, his only thoughts were to avenge Mikaela and slay vampires.

Gradually, his world started to become bigger; he was able to find a new family; despite the ways he made friends; those who became important to him were Shiho Kimizuki, Yoichi Saotome, Mitsuba Sangu and Shinoa Hiragi.

He took his time to follow up orders; and that was due to the fact he aimed to be stronger, he wanted to defeat vampires to fulfill his revenge, that was his sole reason to live. 

But after several chapters which could mean days within the demon army; a fateful event occured.

Correct, he was able to meet Mikaela once again; with the surprise he was alive but as a vampire. Though, the reunion didn’t go as expected since Mikaela was aware the demon army only experimented on humans; by worst Yu saw his new friends being food for vampires which made him lose control and awake his seraph until he ended up returning to normal and thus lead to a comatose state of a week.

But then, was this the factor that made him acknowledge Guren as everything?

No. At this point, Yu was happy Mikaela was alive no matter what, plus he received the support of his new family. He felt blessed; until he discovered that Guren had knowledge of previous events but despite that, he stated the next thing:

Image taken from Seraph of the End: Vampire Reign - Chapter 18

Correct. Yu stated he wouldn’t mind being a Guinea Pig if it meant to bring Mika home; of course Guren dismissed such thoughts and stated they were family, and family would bring or save each other.

Despite that, time went peaceful, Yu was still impulsive and mostly when the Nagoya Arc began; he met another squad which was Narumi’s squad; they eventually worked together and supported each other until they heard Guren was caught.

This triggered Yu’s mind to the point he didn’t mind consuming pills in order to unleash his demon; of course, Asuramaru at that time halted him from doing such reckless move towards his body and instead suggested him to allow him to possess him; which only made the squad rush for him and save him; only to see Mikaela attempt to retrieve him without thinking that he was surrounded by the Demon Army.

Afterwards, they were reunited again, but something changed; what do I mean?

If many might recall, Yu went towards Nagoya’s airport with Mikaela in order to meet with his friends, but what he wasn’t expecting was to see the demon army killing humans in order to trigger the experiment of the Seraph of the End with Mirai Kimizuki.

Image taken from Seraph of the End: Vampire Reign - Chapter 40

This was the detonant as to why Yu had the mental set of seeing Guren as a good person and in fact, he’s not wrong; Yu’s aware Guren carries a big weight over his shoulders but like any other rational being, such message isn’t easy to deliver specially when the squad doesn’t know Guren like Yu does; Yu was able to see sides of Guren since he was the one that took care of him after his rescue.

But then, does this mean Yu will always be trusting Guren as if nothing happened?

At first, it seemed he understood why Guren did such thing and that was because he commited the biggest taboo which was to bring back the dead; Yu understood that his actions were out of the pain and grief and thus he didn’t mind his return nor the fact he’d use him again; thus lead to Mika get angry 

Image taken from Seraph of the End: Vampire Reign - Chapter 58

Mika was the first one to tell Yu it wasn’t alright but Yu didn’t respond to that because to Yu’s possible mindset, it was that Guren endured a lot and he needed everything he could to restore the world again; such event followed suit to the preparations to face the 5th progenitor Ky Luc.

Afterwards, Yu’s heart stopped and was treated quickly but this only made Mikaela fear rage and anger towards Guren due to how he was using Yu specially after showing those two that he kept the 6th trumpet within his household:

Image taken from Seraph of the End: Vampire Reign - Chapter 64

Nevertheless, Yu still supported Guren’s ideals. After stopping the 6th trumpet, the squads went to Shibuya since Kureto Hiragi called Guren; of course, he called them in order to inform he was possessed by something Godlike for the time being and his demon was fending against such monster; said events would follow suit to the possession of Shinoa Hiragi and the fracture of the squad.

Yu was kidnapped by the Hyakuya Sect along his cursed gear; Mikaela eventually found a way to escape and find Yu; Yu’s friends escaped by their own while Mitsuba tried to find them; and of course, after Guren saved Shinoa from Shikama’s possession; the battle between Yu, Mika against Guren, Mahiru and Noya began.

Such battle was intense, it only made Yu allow Asuramaru take full possession of him in order to give him power but the results of that strength weren’t enough; Yu was halted by Mahiru; Mika did the imposible to rescue him leading to his death and of course, the biggest impact on Yu’s heart came:

Image taken from Seraph of the End: Vampire Reign - Chapter 90

Yu stated he wished to die; Yu’s been bearing too much pain for so long and whenever he attempted to rescue someone, he couldn’t go further which made him think he was the problem. And as surprising as it was, Asuramaru conforted him and made him recall what Mikaela told him; the fact he needed to live was what made Yu cry and see his first family, his treasured person die in front of him.

After such events, the demon Mikaela started to manifest on the real world; Krul Tepes was able to meet up with Yu and told him a way to save him but of course, they needed to find a spot where to hide for the meantime. Within this, he pleaded Krul to save Mikaela or to at least get knowledge on how to save him

Image taken from Seraph of the End: Vampire Reign - Chapter 96

This result only ended up making the Queen start asking them if they knew who the enemy of the world was, who they were fighting, what their reasons to live were; but before everything could keep going, the First Progenitor took control of Shinoa’s body which was something Krul quickly detected and luckily, Mahiru managed to supress his cells from Shinoa’s body with quite the strange drug.

After that, we saw Guren and Mahiru entering the building the squad and Krul were in leading to the eventful details of chapter 99, which were the sealing of the demon Mikaela and the most controvertial scene for the fandom:

Image taken from Seraph of the End: Vampire Reign - Chapter 99

Now the real analysis begins.

Why is Yu so trustful? Why is Yu so easygoing with Guren’s actions? Or something that the fandom asks, why is Yu so dumb to not even doubt Guren in the sightlest?

WARNING: Theories and analysis aren’t focused on viewing characters in a bad light nor attacking the faves of the readers; analysis and theories are held within a neutral view and ships are excluded.

Something the fandom hasn’t noticed is Yu’s nature within the story. What do I mean?

Yu himself viewed as the character that deserved to die for bringing harm towards those who were close to him which explain why he didn’t want to make friends before meeting Mika and after Mika’s death as a human.

The fact that he eventually found support made him have a change of heart and the fact that he discovered Mika was alive gave him more reasons to fight the world he lived in; he was tired of always running away from everything that could harm him and so, he decided it’d be best to find answers; such answers would lie with the Vampire Queen.

But among this, Guren kept coming back to his life; was it bad that he did?

In a sense it wasn’t bad, because despite the harsh decisions Guren had to take in order to fight a God like entity, he did care about Yu and the squad as well;he understood the distrust they had and it was fine for him to carry such weight on his shoulder but, does this mean Yu will easily forgive Guren every time his feelings gets hurt?

The answer for this isn’t a yes or a no, but rather a why. Why is Yu forgiving towards Guren?

The answers is scary and the reason is because Yu has an overwhelming fear.

How can I state such thing?

Yu’s mentality hasn’t been stable from the very beginning; ever since the incident with his parents; he saw himself as a monster, and the fact Mahiru met him one day and saw the terrible experiments they did with Yu only made her give him an advice which was to find a reason to live even if it was a simple one. He had the right to live.

After Yu grew up and learnt the Hyakuya Sect performed experiments with kids and learnt that Guren knew such thing, he didn’t care if Guren used him, he was fine with that as long as he could provide help.

But, have you dear readers noticed such thing?

Of course. That’s the most terrifying thing Yu is afraid of. He is afraid of being alone and not being loved. He is afraid of being discarted, he is afraid that those persons around him hate him. He is afraid to be a let down to those who surround him.

Yu can’t simply discard such idea of his mind; that’s why when Mika was a half vampire, he didn’t mind if Mika drank his blood; he didn’t mind fighting and using his seraph powers or having his demon give him power if it meant doing something for the greater good. 

When his most important persons were endangered or were close to dying, he’d lose it; he wouldn’t even know what to do, he begged God or anyone to save them. But whenever he heard there was a chance, he didn’t mind the result, as long as it made it possible to bring back the person he cherished which is something that can be seen with Mika.

Yu’s nature goes to not only from being a kind guy but rather, he seeks to be helpful but along this, it only leads to a self destructive attitude despite him not acknowledging it.

The reason he lacks character development is not because of being badly written but rather, because his heart carries many traumas, he hasn’t been able to move on from them, he hasn’t learnt how to overcome them and have the confidence to state what he really feels aloud; he’s afraid of rejection; his actions alone speak that he wouldn’t dare to betray someone’s wishes because it’d mean losing the trust he might have built with the characters he has interacted with.

But then, there’s something else to notice about Yu’s behavior, what could it be?

Correct. Despite Yu being someone who wishes people could rely on, he unconsciously sets barriers towards the people that know him, such barriers are directed towards the squad that has worked up with him and became an important family to him; but how can make such statement?

That’s simple. It is reflected within the behavior seen in the latest chapter. Shiho and Yoichi for losing their loved ones and seeing Yu crying for losing his loved one as well, understood the pain he went through; and thus, for them being easier to express such thing without the fear of losing anything else, they don’t want to risk to lose more; such behavior is directed towards them unknowingly

It can only be said it is required to wait and see when Yu will stop fearing to have contradictions or rather, when he’ll start being more honest of what he truthfully feels.

What do you think dear readers?

Let me know!

GIF belongs to clair-audients

[queenofimagines]

Touch

Request: “can i get a peter parker soulmate x reader in which they rescue her from hydra and she's distant from peter then bucky shows up and they're all buddy buddy touchy feely cause they were in hydra together and peters all jealous cause why isn't she that way with me I'm her soul mate even though really she wants to open up to him but is nervous and stuff and bucky is the supportive best friend and happy ending”

Warnings: None

Notes: I KNOW I’VE BEEN GONE FOR A WHILE BUT THIS TURNED OUT REALLY LONG SO MAYBE THAT MAKES UP FOR IT???

The little mark on your wrist used to bring you comfort. Once, a long time ago, in the darkness of some cell that Hydra had stuck you in, the thought that somewhere, someone was waiting for you, that someone wanted you for more than just your powers shed a little bit of light to your life. For a long time it was just you in that cell with nothing but a bed and a steel toilet in the corner, the only contact you ever really had was with the guards that would always drag you towards something unpleasant. They would probe and examine and torture you in the name of science, all so they could one day use you for something you were sure you didn’t want to be apart of.

You came from a long line of empaths, but not particularly powerful ones. The ability to feel others’ emotions in and of itself was seen by many as a rather useless power, but your family had used it to help as many as you could, finding their ways into professions in which knowing what another was feeling was vital. The powers each individual person had varied slightly, for example, your mother could feel others’ emotions while your father could feel the physical pain that others experienced. Many others in your family didn’t have two parents with powers, so it was understandable that as the only one born of two empaths you were among the strongest of your line. You were able to not only feel other people’s emotions and physical ailings, but you were able to heal others; to take away their pain or inflict happiness if need be. For this reason, HYDRA had targeted you, wanting to use you as their own personal interrogator.

You could still remember the day they took you. It had been a quiet Friday night and, as usual, you and your family were getting ready for your weekly movie night. You were all huddled onto the couch, arguing over what you were to watch when there was a harsh knock on the door.

“Did you invite one of your friends over?” Your dad asked, already beginning to stand.

“No, did you?” You asked, looking at your mother.

“No, I didn’t. Who would be here so late anyway?” Your mom asked. There was another knock at the door, this time louder and much more impatient.

“I should open the door before they break it down,” Your dad laughed.

“Can’t we just leave them be? They’re interrupting out long awaited movie night and we didn’t get to have one last week because of that emergency that you were called in for.” You argued.

“Honey, maybe they’re in trouble. Whoever is at the door is feeling really anxious.” Your mom responded. Your father nodded, moving to open the door.

Oh how you wished you’d argued harder.

The next thing you heard was a gunshot and a thud, then men in what looked to be black combat gear crashed through the various windows of the room while more came filing in through the door. Your mother immediately pushed you behind her, attempting to protect you from whoever had just invaded your home, but you were surrounded, so it wasn’t hard for one of the men to grab you from behind. You clung to your mother as hard as you could, screaming and crying and hoping that by whatever miracle you would both come out of this unscathed, but another man had grabbed ahold of your mother and roughly yanked her back, not even hesitating before breaking her neck. The scream you let out was guttural and ugly, had it not been for the incredible pain and anger you felt in your chest, you wouldn’t have thought it came from you. You fought against the man behind you, grabbing onto his head and extending your anger onto him, manifesting it into physical pain. He quickly collapsed, holding his head as if it were going to explode. You were able to fight off a couple of others the same way before they were able to grab ahold of your arms and secure them in glove like cuffs. You didn’t stop fighting, though, kicking as hard as you could at anyone you could reach, but they were quick to hit you, causing your vision to become blurry and your head to become hazy. The last thing you saw before you passed out was the sight of your fathers body, bleeding out on the ground from his head where they shot him as they dragged you out the door.

Ever since that day, HYDRA had studied you, exploiting your powers and forcing you to become stronger. For a while you resisted, fighting until you were beaten to a pulp by the many guards that always accompanied you. When HYDRA realized that violence wouldn’t work, they employed a new strategy, seeing the opportunity to use an already trained soldier to control you.

When Bucky was unfrozen again there was nothing new. He had been under HYDRA’s control for so long that the routine of coming out of the ice was so familiar that it was basically second nature. What was surprising, however, was the girl that greeted him in his cell. She was scared, he could tell, but there wasn’t much he could do to make himself seem smaller or to make her feel more comfortable, and besides, having just come out of the ice his brain was too foggy to comprehend much and he was much to scared of the same tortures they always subjected him to, so he very slowly shuffled to the awaiting cot that looked like it hadn’t been slept in and slowly sat down.

You stared at the strange man, wondering why he was with you, but you could tell he was scared, or at the very least just as uncomfortable as you were. You slowly moved towards him, watching as he grew more tense the closer you came. You gently laid your hand on his arm, a slew of emotions instantly rolling through you: pain, grief, longing. You knew he was in the same boat as you, probably stolen away from his own family.

“Hi,” You smiled as best you could, “I’m Y/N”

From that moment on, you and Bucky had been each other’s support systems, always there for each other when you had endured your respective torments. When some of the higher ups noticed the bond you two had formed, they decided to move onto the next phase of their plan. They began to use you and Bucky to control the other, threatening to hurt you if Bucky didn’t comply and vice versa.

When Bucky was finally rescued, he fought to bring you back, and he did, four months later. In those four months you had been punished for Bucky’s apparent failure, they interrogated you 24/7 until they realized they wouldn’t get anything from you, whether they believed you or not when you told them you didn’t know anything, you were unsure.

Coming back to life was an adjustment, to say the least. Bucky was a blessing to you, he helped you make your way back to a normal life, even becoming your legal guardian when you wanted to attend school again. Bucky was hesitant to let you go but you had insisted that the best way for you to get back to normal was by acting as normal as possible, so after having passed all the tests, he enrolled you into Midtown School of Science and Technology. His choice in the school was no accident, Bucky knew that Peter attended Midtown and tasked him with keeping an eye out for you. It didn’t take long for you and Peter to become friends and took even less time for you both to realize that you were soulmates. Bucky had threatened Peter when he found out, making sure that he wouldn’t break your heart, but he was secretly happy that Peter was your soulmate instead of some random boy he didn’t know.

You were over the moon when you found out that you and Peter were soulmates. You had been in love with the boy since you met him and knowing that he was actually meant for you absolutely blew your mind. More than that, though, Peter had been so kind to you and you couldn’t even put into words how grateful you were for him, so you showed your affection as best you could. You remembered details about him that others would usually forget: how he liked his coffee, his favorite snacks, the exact way he took his sandwich from Delmar’s. You were completely unaware of the fact that Peter was a physically affectionate person, and even more oblivious to the fact that you seemed to have an aversion to physical contact. After all that HYDRA had put you threw, you really shouldn’t have been surprised, but you also didn’t see any harm in avoiding touch for the time being.

Peter had noticed how you never touched him. You seemed fine when he held your hand or held you close, but you were never the one to initiate it. You were never leaned up to kiss him or hug him or cuddle with him and he understood why but he was still a little hurt, especially when he saw you immediately embrace Bucky after he came back from his mission. What Peter didn’t know was that every time Bucky went out on a mission you drove yourself into the ground with worry. He was basically the only family you had left, losing him would be like reliving the day HYDRA took you. You had made Bucky promise to keep most of your time together under wraps, only telling people what they needed to know and nothing more, so even if Peter knew that you had a rough past, he didn’t truly understand what it was like.

“What’s wrong?” You asked. Peter had been huffy and passive all day, tipping you off right away. When you asked, he recalled your earlier actions. Peter had woken up before you, quietly eating breakfast with the rest of the avengers before you sleepily walked into the common area. You passed him, barely sparing a glance, in order to sit by Bucky. Bucky instantly wrapped an arm around you, quietly asking you how you slept and pulling you into his side.

“Nothing.” He said, curtly.

“Peter, talk to me.”

“I just...” He looked at you, not wanting to continue, but when he saw your bright eyes and reassuring smile, he knew he couldn’t just not say something. “Why do you hug Bucky and not me?”

You looked away from him, unconsciously rubbing the mark on your wrist, a nervous habit you picked up as a child.

“Did I do something? Are you... not in love with me anymore?” He asked. He knew you were soulmates but it wasn’t uncommon for soulmates to temporarily fall out of love before they were able to grow into the people they were meant to be.

“What? No! No Peter that’s not it!”

“Then what is it?”

“I... Peter while I was with HYDRA Bucky was the only one there for me. I lost everything and Bucky helped me heal, he’s the only family I have left. Every time Bucky goes on missions I’m absolutely terrified that I’ll lose him like I lost my parents, so with him I guess it’s just natural. I’m sorry that I made you feel uncertain about things.”

Peter didn’t feel the need to say anything, instead, he pulled you into a tight hug, assuring you that you had nothing to apologize for. You spent the rest of the day glued to Peter’s side, becoming slightly more affectionate as the day went on, but not forcing yourself to do anything you were uncomfortable with.

When dinner time came you sat next to Peter, completely engrossed in the story he was telling you about something stupid that Flash did during the debate teams last meeting. Bucky watched you from afar, happy that you were finally growing out of your shell and proud of the happy person you had become.

[writetorace]

The Turnaround – One Shot Peter Parker x Avenger!Reader

Summary: your relationship with Peter had a hole in it, a baby-sized hole.

Warnings: mentions of infertility, angst, fluff, mentions of murder, character death

A/N: feedback is appreciated. Peter is aged up, and the events of Far From Home happen two years after the events of Endgame. The Turnaround by The Eels is a good song, I highly recommend. This is inspired by It’s Time fic by @tom-holland-is-spiderman

Taglist // Masterlist

The red room was your nightmare. It haunted you, plagued you. It took a part of your life that you wanted back, but could never get. However, your training taught you to forget. The Black Widow programme was something that your parents had signed you up for as a child, your first assignment to kill them. That was rule number one, no family. It means no ties, nothing holding you back; they said it would make stronger, a better assassin.

In the Academy, Natasha Romanoff was a myth, a legend, someone you hoped was real as it gave you hope. A hope that you too could escape the horrors and crimes that you had committed. The other girls, your sisters, they weren’t like you. They took pride in the lives they took, gossiped about it. It was all a game to them. Then the attack on New York happened, and you caught your first glimpse of Natasha Romanoff.

It was your mission to find her, a personal mission, not one assigned to you. All you wanted to do was walk into the Avengers Tower and ask her to take you in. It wouldn’t be that easy though, nothing in life was ever that easy. No, you would have to hunt her down and beg her to help you. It would be difficult, but it was something you had to do for your safety.

The signing of the Accords was your first opportunity to seek her help, but when the explosion happened, your chance was gone. All because another myth, another legend had turned up out of the blue. Their need was greater than yours for salvation. You would just have to find another opportunity.

Then, you did. That opportunity came when Natasha was to stand before the court to discuss her actions. It was the most broadcast court case, and he had told them “you know where to find me.” It had been the biggest power move you had seen, and it further fuelled your fire to get her to help you.

Walking out of the courthouse, you saw the car waiting for her, then the alley between the two. It would take you two seconds to get to the alley and pull her in with you. So you did. You grabbed her and pushed her, so you were blocking the entrance on the defensive. Her body was radiating anger, shaking from it. She charged towards you, but you knew her moves having trained at the same Academy. That was when she noticed the defeated look on your face.

“Sister, help me. Please. Sister Widow, I need your help.” It was a desperate plea, one you hoped she believed.

“Sister? Who are you? Who trained you?” Her moves were calculated, meant to either throw you off or study you.

“Y/n, I went to the Academy. The Red Room, Natasha you must remember the Red Room. Please help me, sister!” You were hysterical, red-faced and crying. You were weak, the opposite of a Widow.

“Okay, I can help you, but I need you to let me past. Sister, I want to trust you, but I can’t. I don’t know you, but you know about the Red Room. Only the girls that went through what is in that room know about it. So let me apologise for what happened to you. I’m sorry.”

She put a hand on your arm in comfort, it wasn’t much, but it meant a lot. She dug her phone out and made a phone call. She spoke so fast you missed each word of what she said. As soon as she made the phone call, it was over. “Y/n, the people I am with now, they want to ask you some questions. It will involve a truth serum, but it is only for security purposes.”

It made sense of course it did. You couldn’t just expect her or them to welcome you with open arms. It would take time for everyone to trust you. Over time they did trust you. All of them had been so sweet to you when you turned up. Little Widow was what they called you on missions, some of them called you mini Nat, saying that on the battlefield you were her double. Then things changed.

When the snap happened, you got dusted—five years of your life gone. Appearing on the battlefield after coming back was strange, much like Doctor Strange. The battle took everyone’s strength and also some lives. Tony’s death hit a boy you had never seen the hardest. They called him Peter, he had not been dusted, but his family had.

After the battle was over, you searched for Nat. She had become a mother to you, a mentor, someone you trusted with your life. That was when you felt Clint’s arms around you. He was shushing you and telling you it was okay. You knew something was wrong the second he hugged you; Clint never hugged anyone. Then he said the words, “She’s dead, Nat’s dead.”

It was like someone had taken a dagger to your heart. You were alone again. However, you weren’t alone; you were surrounded by your family, the only family you needed. Now the two youngest Avengers had lost their mentors. The team had changed a lot. Steve had grown old, so Sam was now Captain America with Bucky by his side. Wanda was grieving for Vision, and Clint had gone home to his family. Pepper and Morgan stayed at the house by the lake, but Peter didn’t follow them. He opted to be at the tower with you.

Peter took to grieving a different way, he carried on as usual, whilst you barely left your room. If anyone understood what you were going through, it was him. You have never met him before this, the dusting taking five years of your life. Somewhere in your grief, you found love. Love in the form of Peter Parker.

It was something the team hadn’t expected, but they happily accepted. They said Tony and Nat would approve. It was a love that manifested quickly, almost like the two of you were made for each other. After two years he had proposed. On a date, he took you to the top of the Statue Of Liberty and dropped to one knee. It was spontaneous and beautiful.

One thing you never told Peter was what happened in the Red Room. It was a secret that you and Natasha shared. Peter knew about your nightmares, your life in the Academy. He also knew about the killings, the murders that you committed. He accepted it, accepted you. He said it was your past and the fact that you had asked the Avengers for help as proof that you were the good amongst the evil.

On the eve of your wedding, you told him. You told him about your infertility, the Red Room and what they did to you in there. Both of you cried but accepted it; after all, there were other options. He was hurt that you hadn’t told him, but he understood your reasons. It was not something that just dropped into conversation.

The little girl you wanted to adopt was adorable. Her parents had been killed in the crossfire of a mission. She reminded you of yourself, and you wouldn’t let her get slipped into the system. A system that would train her and break her. Her doe eyes sparkled as she reached towards you and called “Mama”. It broke your heart, and Peter bear witness to it.

“She’s the one Pete. I can feel it.”

“I feel it too. That pull, that love.”

She was staying in your house that you had with Peter. The adoption process was going as smoothly as possible, but then Quintin Beck got involved in Peter’s life. When his identity was revealed, you lost her. Your little girl was taken. They said it was too much of a risk whilst the papers were getting processed. They thought that you would be too much of a flight risk, and with Peter’s identity, too much of a threat.

It was breaking your marriage apart, Peter was barely home, and you rarely spoke to him. There was a hole in both of you. A hole the size of your little girl. Except she wasn’t yours, she was still legally the systems. Sitting on the bed, you grabbed the teddy you got for her when she spent her first night in your house, her home. Some tears made their way down your face as Peter entered the room. Sitting next to you, he placed a hand on your shoulder that you shrugged off. “If we don’t get her back, Pete, I don’t know where we go from here. It might be the end of us.”

“Sweetheart, don’t say that. I love you.”

“You deserve someone who can give you what you want. I see the way you look at Morgan, I know you want children, and I can’t give you that.” He didn’t want a life without you. He could cope with just you.

The bell-ringing snapped you both out of your daze. Getting up you made your way to the front door. Standing there was a social worker. “Pete! Pete come quick!”

His heart stopped thinking you were in danger, but he knew that you could take care of yourself. Making his way to the front door, he almost dropped to his knees. Stood with the social worker was his little girl. “Is that?”

“Yes, Pete. It’s our little girl.”

[lady-aescwyn]

Strange, Tender Things

Steve Harrington x fem!OC One Shot

Author’s note:  I was inspired by a prompt I found while perusing the Stanger Things fics tags.  This was originally intended to be a StevexReader fic, but I decided to give the protag a name.  It’s still pretty self-inserty and I encourage you to overwrite her name in your mind with your own if it pleases you.  My writing skills are rather rusty, but please enjoy.

Premise: Steve Harrington and his girlfriend are having a stupid fight, which is brought to an abrupt end.  Concern and gentleness ensues.

***

When it was over, neither of them would remember how it started in the first place.  It had started out as simple, easy conversation.  He hadn’t quite meant the words in the way they’d come out.  She’d had more venom in her tone than she’d intended. They were both little more than teenagers.  Though they were both whole in body, they were both traumatized by a series of recent events in Hawkins, Indiana.

Now, here they stood.  

In Joyce Byers’ small kitchen.  

Fighting.

The house was empty, save for the two of them; Joyce at work, the younger kids out under Jonathan and Nancy’s watchful eyes, reunited for the first time in months.  But here at the house, Steve Harrington’s hands were planted on the top of the kitchen table, his upper body bent forward as he traded barbs with Dawn.  For her part, Dawn was brandishing a dirty glass in one hand as if it were a weapon and giving as good as she got, her lips curled back in an almost feral snarl.  Her time as a street kid coming back full force, manifesting as a bitter, angry fight to make her point.

The small, cheap table creaked with the force of Steve’s anger, though his voice was low, “We can’t keep living in what happened back in Hawkins.  I’m not saying forget it, but we have to move forward.” His face was stony, eyebrows furrowed.

“It’s not over!  It will never be over, Steve!”  The empty glass swinging through the air between them like a saber.  Dawn’s voice was strained with manic desperation, “Hopper is alive.  El saw him! This can’t be over until we bring. Him.  Home.”  As if to punctuate her point, she brought the glass to a stop with a final thunk on the table.  

Unfortunately, that finality was too much for the old cup.

The glass shattered.

There was a beat of silence as they both took a moment to register the cracking sound of glass grinding against itself.

“Fuck!”  Dawn swore, fussing over the remains of the glass.  She began gathering the bits, heedless of the blood that was beginning to seep from between her fingers.

Steve was around the table like lightning, “Stop.  Hey-“

“I broke Joyce’s glass.”  Blood sprinkled the tabletop amidst the shards.

“It’s ok.  Just stop.” His voice was soft, a far cry from the intensity and clenched teeth of only moments ago.

“I need to clean this u-“

“We will clean it up.  After we clean you up.”

Dawn finally deflated, all of her fight burning off like fog on a summer morning.  

She let Steve take her arm and guide her to the kitchen sink. The air was still, humming with the sound of the refrigerator nearby and their breathing in unison as their anger ebbed away.  The quiet was punctuated only by the clink of bloody glass shards hitting the sink, each accompanied by a sharp intake of breath from Dawn as she winced.

As Steve turned on the water to clean the wound, Dawn stopped him, “Hold on, there’s still a piece in there.”  

She bent forward, trying to see in the dim light from the dingy bulb over the sink.  Her lip was clenched between her teeth as she dug into the wound with her other hand. Despite the surety of her voice and action, her breath was hitched with pain as she coaxed the glass from her hand. In his concern, Steve hadn’t realized that his hand had found its place on her lower back, steadying her.

Finally, that last piece of glass fell from her fingers and they both released the breath they’d been holding.  She gently flexed her hand and then nodded, sure that was the last of it.

He said, “Let me.”

And she did, her stance relaxing as she stood aside to let him wash the blood from her hands.

It was a deep wound, long and jagged across her palm and all the way to the bone at the base of her thumb.  If it had been anyone else, it would have necessitated a trip to the ER.

“I have a healing factor, you know.”  The words were without bite, her attempt at humor cutting the silence.  He knew very well her ability to knit her wounds together and if pushed, to channel that ability to heal others… at an exponentially greater cost to herself.  

She had used it to save his life only months ago.

“I know.”  His reply was simple, but one corner of his mouth hinted at a smile before his brows furrowed again.  “But I- I don’t like to see you hurt.”

The bleeding had stopped.  

No longer over the sink, he still held her injured hand cradled in both of his.  Dawn didn’t move, searching his face as he watched her flesh knit together.  The rumble of the furnace kicking on joined the sound of the refrigerator.  His warm thumb travelled down the skin of her wrist until it met the number 9 tattooed there.

Leaning closer to him, her voice shook, “I’m sorry-“

He shook his head.

She continued, “I know it’s not healthy to dwell so much-“

“I’m sorry too.  If there’s any chance Hopper’s alive, we have to find him.”  There wasn’t much to go on.  Just El’s dream of a ‘cold place.’  It could be grief, or El could be tapping in with her powers, none of them were sure.  They’d had no more success when they’d tried white noise or another makeshift sensory deprivation tank.

The last bit of tension, melted from Dawn’s body, “It doesn’t do him or us any good to fight.  I’m sorry.”  She reinforced her apology.

Steve’s eyes hadn’t left her wrist.

Moments passed in silence as motes of dust drifted lazily through the yellowed, old home.  Still, his fingers ran tenderly along the sides of her wrist.

The cut was nearly closed now; just a jagged, angry red line. Even the scar would soon fade. This was far from the worst injury she’d ever had and they both knew it.  In the buzzing still of the small kitchen, Steve seemed lost in the memory of before.  

With the fingers of her injured hand, Dawn brushed his forearm. “Hey.  Look at me.”

Steve took a deep breath, but his eyes and hands didn’t leave her arm.

After a moment, he spoke, “You told me once that Hawkins Lab created you.”  There was a pause.  When she didn’t interrupt, he continued, “You are so much more than that.  So much more than them.  You took what those assholes did to you and you did amazing things with it. And you’re gonna do even more.”  

The conviction in his voice was searing and Dawn wasn’t prepared for him to cut right to the core of her worries.  

When his eyes finally met hers, he didn’t expect her to look so stricken. Dawn’s eyes welled with tears as all of the emotion came to a head and spilled over. The uninjured hand went to her mouth, but once the tears had started, they couldn’t really be stifled and she stumbled forward into his arms.

“I’m sorry, I-“  Steve’s voice was mildly panicked; he hadn’t meant to make her cry.  As she fell forward, he held her, which was all she really needed.

These weren’t bad tears; they were a too long delayed emotional release and they would pass almost as quickly as they had come.  However, in that moment her shoulders shook with intense sobs as she clung to him.  And he held her as the waves crashed over them.  Damp fingers curled into the back of her shirt as his grip tightened and he buried his nose into the top of her head.  Steve’s own vision was blurred with tears.  This was the first time they had seen each other since Dawn moved away from Hawkins with El and the Byers’ and they’d almost ruined it with the stupidest fight.

Eventually, the sobs passed and once again the buzz of the kitchen appliances reigned in the soft atmosphere.  But the couple didn’t part.  They stood like that for a while, locked in each other’s arms, rocking gently side to side.  Finding comfort in each other again.

After a while, Dawn’s rough voice came from where her face was buried between his neck and shoulder, “M,sorry.”

“Don’t be.”  His voice returned from where he was still buried in her hair.

Dawn took a deep, cleansing breath and finally brought her head up, looking over his shoulder at the glass shards still on the table, “I have to clean up.”  But she made no move to leave his arms.

Steve didn’t move either, “I’ll help.”  

He was talking about more than the broken glass.

“Thank you.”  her ‘I love you’ wasn’t verbalized, but neither did it go unsaid as she began to pull away with a soft squeeze to his arm.

Before they fully parted, he caught her with a gentle hand at the back of the neck and pressed a kiss to her forehead.  Their breath mingled for a moment between them as they drew away.  It was his own silent, ‘I love you too.’

With that, they stepped apart. Steve turned to the sink and Dawn to the table and together they worked to clean up the mess.  Quick work was made of the blood and glass.  Words were unneeded as they worked around each other and in unison, the same as they had done before in Hawkins; though this was nothing like those battles with the beasts of the Upside Down.  It wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last time they moved as one.

As the worn dish towel was at last hung back over the handle on the oven door, Steve caught her hand and began to pull her from the room. “I think everyone else has the right idea, let’s get out of here.”  His usual, charming smile dawning on his face like the rising sun.

That smile was infectious and Dawn couldn’t stop from meeting it with one of her own, “You know, I could show you our new mall up here.”

The response was swift and over dramatic, “Oh god no!  No more malls!”

Laughter followed the two of them through the home like light hitting a suncatcher and scattering flashes of rainbow across the yellowed wallpaper.  For now, all was well.