#i think we are freed from the fear once we live long enough to prove to ourselves choosing to live outweighed it all

[gaymothman]

the truth is, i am in fact terrified to walk this world alone, but i truly have no choice but to keep on living

[misstrashchan]

“Maybe there was something there you just weren’t seeing” (Maria to Ruby, regarding Cinder, 6x08)

Rewatching v6 and the scene with Ruby and Maria where they discuss the Silver Eyes, and just being struck after everything we’ve seen in v8 how neatly the pieces are all being laid out for us here:

-Ruby repeatedly being able to hurt Cinder with her eyes because of her Grimm arm, but never killing her.

- Maria very firmly stating that the Silver Eyes are not meant to be thought as a means of killing, but of saving lives

-Every time Cinder is hurt by Ruby only further drives her into pain, anguish, and bitterness, and deepens her fear and hatred of Ruby, and her belief that Ruby is her greatest threat

- The actual fact being that Salem is Cinder’s greatest threat, the obvious parallels being drawn between how the Madame abused and controlled Cinder via the electric shock collar as a child, and how Salem abuses and controls Cinder much the same through the Grimm arm, how she is still stuck in her awful childhood and can never achieve her true desire, never be free as long as she serves Salem. As long as she can control her through the Grimm she is fused too.

- A huntsman named Rhodes, (as in meaning “where roses grow”) who tried to help Cinder as a child but was unwilling to challenge his own perception of her once she broke the law, once his view of her, to Cinder, was looking at her with eyes that perceived her as a villain, as a monster. Irredeemable, someone who needed to be hurt, stopped, contained, punished. Someone who was no longer worthy of help, someone beyond saving, someone who was being treated as a threat that others needed to be protected from

- Ruby purposefully using her Silver Eyes against Cinder with the intent to protect others from her, because of her traumatic experiences relating to Cinder at the FoB having instinctively come to only see Cinder as a threat she needs to protect others from

- Ruby’s reaction to seeing that Cinder is fused to a Grimm after intentionally using her eyes against her, and again having a similar horrified reaction realising that the Hound was a Grimm fused with a human person after intentionally using her Silver Eyes against them as well.

The Silver Eyes are not a force of destruction. They are not meant to kill human lives. They are meant to protect and preserve humanity, all of human life.

Ruby: So, how do I laser beam monsters with my eyeballs?

Maria: First, you stop thinking like that! I want you to think of all the times you've triggered your powers. What did those moments have in common?

Ruby:  I... was scared, and stressed. Is it emotional? Like unlocking a Semblance?

Maria: It's emotional but more focused than that. Think, what is it you wanted?

Ruby: I wanted to protect my friends.

Maria: Precisely! It is the desire to preserve life which fuels the light inside you. And to make no mistake, it is light. Preservation is an extension of creation, or, at the very least, an enemy of destruction. The Creatures of Grimm were made by the God of Darkness, but your light comes from his brother.

 Maria’s advice to Ruby is to challenge Ruby’s initial perception of how she thinks of the Silver Eyes and the way in which they are used, the emotions and motives behind triggering her powers. And Ruby also learns that there are different ways one can use the Silver Eyes, being able to turn Grimm to stone, blind them or vaporise them. But the most important thing to take away is that the different ways Ruby can use her Silver Eyes that she has yet to learn, and how Ruby uses them, is determined by her own personal intent.

“Don’t think about your light as a means of destroying evil, but as a way to protect the people of Remnant”

In the past, the way in which Rhodes and Ruby have both chosen to see Cinder as a threat to be dealt with and refusing to look at the person that is hurting, scared and in need of help, has only driven to prove Cinder’s view of huntsmen and herself, and has only made her more hurt, afraid, and traumatized, and less likely to break out of the cycle of pain in which she endures and inflicts on others.

We know Cinder needs to break free of Salem. We know she’ll eventually realise she has to get rid of the Grimm arm to do that. We know that only Ruby would be able to help Cinder vaporise the Grimm arm and free her from Salem’s control. But we also know that Ruby has used her eyes on Cinder in the past, multiple times, and it’s only served to hurt Cinder, with the Grimm arm still remaining. So, what would have to change for Ruby’s eyes to work to save Cinder from the Grimm instead of hurting her?

She has to learn to see Cinder as a person. She has to see both human and monster. She has to see Cinder, really see her. If she wants to help her, to stop her hurting and her hurting others, to break the cycle, the intent and mindset Ruby has when using her eyes on Cinder has to change. Instead of thinking “I have to protect everyone from Cinder” she would have to think “I have to help Cinder”

Ruby has to realise there was something she wasn’t seeing. And, well, she’s already starting to:

 And it’s just such a fascinating direction for both Ruby and Cinder to go down. Because it would present some of the most difficult personal challenges for them to overcome. Cinder already doesn’t like what the arm is doing to her, she doesn’t want to be a tool for Salem to use, but if she wants to be free of her she’ll have to ask for Ruby’s help. Cinder would have to be brave enough to be vulnerable around Ruby, who she is terrified of because of how she’s hurt her in the past, to trust that she won’t harm her, that Ruby will want to help her, to learn that she, Cinder, is deserving of help simply because she needs it and has asked for it, because her life is of value as much as any other person, because she is a person.

 And Ruby, I think since the v7 finale, truly pities Cinder. After seeing the Hound and the person inside and having a similar reaction, I can’t imagine Ruby would think that anyone deserves such a horrible fate. And the duty of a Silver Eyed Warrior is to protect and preserve life, right? She should want to save Cinder, not harm her, given the opportunity, right? But I think that even after Ruby starts to see Cinder, not as a monster she needs to defeat or defend her friends from, but as a scared struggling human that needs her help in being freed from Salem’s control, that has willingly approached and asked for Ruby's help, (and I do believe the line "Cinder must redeem herself" cements the idea that Cinder would be the one to approach Ruby) I think using her eyes to free Cinder would still be something that Ruby would struggle to do.

I think she’d try to do it, because she’d know it would be the right thing to do, knows that it’s what she should do. But when it comes to using the Silver Eyes, what matters is the emotions and intent behind them. She can’t just decide to save Cinder with the SE because she knows that’s what she should do and disregard or suppress her own feelings towards Cinder, she has to want to do it in order for it to actually work. She has to willingly create that mindset of helping Cinder, and that’s something she’d struggle to do until actually thinking about and addressing her own personal feelings and trauma that are tied up with Cinder, given how Cinder has literally become someone who triggers Ruby’s Silver Eyes.

And it could be such a deliciously complex dilemma for Ruby, struggling between knowing that helping Cinder is the right thing to do, trying to repress her old resentment and anger towards Cinder and force herself to use her Silver Eyes in order to do that, upset and guilty that she can’t make it work, that she can’t just do this because there’s a part of her that doesn’t want too. And realising that she can’t help Cinder until she first helps herself, in overcoming her own trauma.

Not to quote Princess Mononoke or anything, but they both literally have to see each other with eyes unclouded by hate.

[goldencherryhazz]

Better than sex

A/n: it’s currently nearly midnight and I have been working on this for the past three hours, so I don’t even know if it makes sense but I will check in the morning lol! Notes would be much appreciated, pls don’t copy my work!

Warnings: smut, daddy kink, choking, oral fem!recieving, fluff

Agreeing to go on tour with Harry was one of the best decisions you’ve ever made, travelling to every corner of the world and watching your boyfriend perform in front of thousands of people in the most extravagant outfits every night was honestly a dream, but now after four months being on the road with him you we’re finally going home for a break.

‘Wake up darling’ Harry said stroking your cheek, it was only 7’o’clock in the evening in the uk, but jet lag was getting the better of you so Harry being more accommodated to flying here there an everywhere gladly drove you two home from the airport whilst you napped.

You give him a lazy smile stretching your arms in the air ‘we’re home H’ you say excitedly looking at the front of your home, you honestly thought you forgot what it looked like after not seeing it for 4 months.

‘Yes we are my love’ admiring his girl and how cute she looked rubbing her sleepy eyes with her whole palm like a child.

He opens his door and climbs out of the car, quickly making his way to your side to open the door for you like the gentleman he is, ‘m’lady’ he gestures for to to get out the car ‘well thankyou kind sir’ you giggle at him, pecking his cheek on your way to the back of the car.

You two make a quick job of getting all your luggage into the house, only dumping them in the porch already agreeing to deal with it in the morning.

You walk into the kitchen to be greeted by Daisy, your two’s cat who Anne had kindly looked after whilst you and Harry were touring, you felt bad for leaving her for so long but Anne had insisted seeing as Daisy got along with her cats aswell, so she basically had a massive sleepover, ‘hey dais how are you, missed you soo much’ you coo towards her she let you stroke her for a maximum of two seconds before she spots Harry in the doorway and bounds over to him. You chuckle, Daisy had always had a soft spot for Harry and you couldn’t really blame her ‘not giving mama cuddles huh, missed your daddy too much’ he said with the cat laid in his arms, her paws up as if she was in surrender. Eventually she scrambled out of his arms going to her bed in the living room you presumed.

‘Wanna go and watch a film in bed baby, you can choose whatever you want promise I won’t make you watch The Notebook again’

‘Yeah sounds perfect’ she smiles walking to grab his outstretched hand which didn’t have any rings on which was a strange sight after being so used to seeing him with them on.

The two of you trudge up the stairs, and when you finally make it to the top you run into the bedroom that you and Harry shared, and jumped onto your California king bed, making Harry laugh at your antics. You had truly missed this bed after being in a different hotel at least once every two days over the last four months, there was just something about the duvet and the memory foam mattress topper that you couldn’t get enough of, the sheets were also extra soft and smelled like fresh flowers, you laid flat on your back with tight arms and legs splayed out like a starfish, as you practically sunk into the mattress ‘this is better than sex’ you say jokingly but sounding quite serious due to how comfortable you were at that moment.

This made Harry spin round to face you with his eyebrows raised a smirk on his lips, he made his way to the bed, you had your eyes closed so when you felt his breath again the side of your neck it made you jump and had a shiver running out your spine ‘are you sure about that sweet girl’

You open you eyes in shock, not knowing what you said would get him riled up that quickly, or bruise his over so increasing ego, but you knew if you kept playing along he would give it to you really good just so that he could prove you wrong, and you were all for it.

‘Are you saying that this bed is better than my cock...my fingers...and my mouth?’ Kissing you on the sweet spot on your neck between his words.

‘Hmm, I don’t know you’ll have to show me can’t remember.’

‘Oh baby you don’t know what you’ve gotten your self into, I’m gonna make you remember it for days’ making a moan escape your lips, he pounced on top of you pinning you arms above your head kissing you on you lips multiple times before dragging them down your

Harry knew you were probably joking but he loved having his way with you and for the last 4 months being on tour the only sort of intimacy you two had was quick fucks in dressing and hotel rooms with being so busy all the time and at night Harry was understandably tired after doing a show. He wanted to dominate the shit out of you tonight and you had just added fuel to the fire, so with no fear of someone walking in on you both he was going to let loose.

He pulls back and releases your arms, ‘strip for my baby, then I want you to sit at the top of the bed with your back against the headboard’ you moaned softly at his words, already putty in his hands and instantly start undressing as he did the same.

Once you were naked, and sat against the headboard you couldn’t help but stare at your boyfriend pulling his t-shirt over his head making his arms flex, your pussy become slick with your wetness as you watched him. Once he freed his cock from the confines of his boxers, he gives his shaft a few tugs trying to relieve some of the building pressure.

‘Jesus, can smell you from here’ he moans crawling up the bed, you legs spreading even more on instinct to give him more room. He lays on his belly once he is closer to you wrapping his arms around your thighs swiftly dragging you so that his face was barely centre metres away from your sopping cunt, you drape you legs over his shoulder heels digging into his back.

‘M’gonna use my mouth and my fingers and I’m gonna make you cum so hard that you squirt everywhere sweet girl’ you squirm in his grip his eyes looking directly into yours. He gives you no warning as he ducks down pressing a kiss directly on your clit, then licking a bold stripe up your entire pussy ‘always to wet for me, you taste just like a strawberry angel.’ You throw your head back, you hands gripping onto the sheets to prepare yourself for what was to come.

He focuses back on your clit flicking his tongue from side to side, he teases a his middle finger round your entrance making you buck your hips ‘patience sweet girl’ he says removing his lips from your clit to suck a hickey onto the inside of your thigh.

‘Feels so so good daddy’ the first words you had spoken except moan after moan since Harry started, your fingers pinching your nipples, he smirks up at the pet name, his cock twitching against the sheets.

He decides to give you his fingers, inserting two at the same time, you whine at how easily they slid into you. He gives no time to adjust curling them into a ‘cone hither’ motion then pumping them in and out going knuckle deep every time hitting spots that you would never have been able to fine with your own, a calloused finger rubbing tight circles around you clit. ‘How good is daddy making you feel, tell me’

‘So f-fucking good, your fingers feel amazing inside me daddy’ you can’t stop your eyes from rolling into the back of your head as his mouth finds it’s place back on your clit, adding a third finger into you cunt, still thrusting at a delicious pace, You could feel the knot tightening in your belly, but not only that you felt like a balloon was ready to burst within you.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, knowing that he loved it when you tugged on his curls, but you also did it so that he wouldn’t pull away and deny you of an orgasm when you were almost falling off the edge.

‘Clenching around my fingers baby, know your gonna cum, stop holding back leg go for me’.

‘Shit daddy, I’m so close’ you cry out

‘Yeah you gonna squirt for me, soak the sheets?’

‘Yes daddy’

‘Go on then, cum for me sweet girl’

You couldn’t hold back any longer, after a few more thrusts of his fingers you let go screaming as you do, the ballon inside you also bursting resulting in you squirting over the lowers portion of Harry’s face and the sheets beneath, he moaned out. Your legs were shaking, your head was thrown back, and your back arched as he continued thrusting his fingers inside of you to ride out your intense orgasm. After a few moments you took in a sharp breath having forgotten how to breathe ‘holy shit daddy’ you barely mustered up, you felt like you were floating in mid air, you don’t think you’ve cum that hard in a very long time.

After a couple of minutes you start to come down from your high, you look at Harry who was still in the same position, his eyes were glazed over in lust ‘that was so fucking hot angel, swear I could’ve cum just right there and then’ he licks your folds cleaning up you up a bit. Harry swore he could spend hours between your legs, he couldn’t get enough of your taste.

Eventually he presses one last kiss on your clit, before blowing air directly onto the small bud, making you squirm at the overstimulation.

He moves up you body, pressing kisses against your skin along the way, swirling his tongue around your hardened nipples then blowing air only each in just like he had done to your clit making a shiver run up your spine. He reaches your lips kissing, dipping his tongue into your mouth so that you could taste your juices.

‘Was that good sweet girl’ his words muffled by your lips.

‘Yes daddy, m’kinda sleepy now though’ you say shutting you eyes a lazy smile spreading across your face.

‘No falling asleep on me now, haven’t even fucked you yet, m’cocks leakin’ for you.’

This makes you perk up a bit, now yearning to be filled with Harry’s cock, you had only just come down from your last orgasm but you were ready for another one.

‘Want you to come deep inside of me daddy, want you to fill me up so bad’ you whine.

‘You want my cock baby’

‘Yes please daddy’ you were desperate now.

‘Well since you asked so nicely’ he reaches down tugging his cock a few times spreading pre-cum over his length, before slipping into your warm cunt both of you groaning at the feeling, he thrusts all the way inside you his length stretching your walls deliciously.

‘Ohhh sweet girl, swear you pretty cunt was made for me, can I move now’

‘Yes daddy, you can move’ he instantly complies not being able to stay still any longer. He starts a steady pace pulling nearly all the way out before thrusting back in hitting the deepest spots within you. You reach your arms over his shoulders tracing some of his tattoos along the way then gripping onto the soft skin. Whimpers and groans filled the room as Harry buried his face in your neck, your natural scent mixed with your favourite perfume intoxicating him, you take your chance to suck a hickey onto his neck after not having much time to mark him up.

He was fucking into you at a fast pace now, getting lost in pleasure ‘so deep daddy’ you moan. He moved his face from you neck, gripping onto the headboard with one hand to get more leverage, the sight of him above you pounding you into the mattress turned you on even more if that was possible.

‘Daddy can you c-choke me’

His hand flies to your throat gripping it just enough so it restricted you breathing slightly, ‘like that baby, you love it when daddy rough with you, don’t ya’

‘Yes daddy, fucking love it’ you scream as he starts hitting your g-spot repeatedly.

‘Oh shit, daddy’s gonna cum, you gonna cum with me’ he groans hand getting slightly tighter around your throat.

‘I’m gonna cum to daddy, please keep fucking me like that’ your eyes roll into the back of you head you heels looped round his back and crossed at the ankle to keep him as close as possible. His thrusts start to falter and his cock twitches telling you he was about to fall over the edge ‘cum inside me daddy, want you to paint my walls with your cum, please daddy want it soo much’ you whimper also starting to tumble over.

‘Shit I’m cumming’ he growls sheathing into your cunt his cock twitching one last time, his balls resting heavy against the space between your pussy and your tight second hole, he emptied his load inside you, the sensation of his seed filling you up also made you cum, Harry’s grip on your throat giving you a head-rush as you do, you both felt euphoric. After the waves of your release come crashing down in you your body goes limp, you know that you will be sore tomorrow and probably the day after but it was all worth it. Harry’s takes longer to come down from his high, his cum now dripping out of your pussy. ‘You okay bub’ you say sweetly looking up at him.

‘Oh I’m more than okay baby, feel fucking incredible’

He takes his loosened hand off of your throat before resting his body on top of yours, his cock still buried inside of you ‘I take back that last statement about this bed being better than sex’ you whispered breathlessly into his hair stroking through the sweaty curls.

‘You better’ he tiredly laughs into your neck.

[chrstbll]

miracles and lucky days| ben hargreeves

(gif not mine) 

+tags: @lalisbitch @spaceclone-mom , @meowmeowrex23 @strangeyouthcrusade

plot: after coming back from the 60’s, instead of finding the sparrow academy, the group come face to face with a much more positive outcome of their actions.

                                ��                          -

The words of Klaus were diluted, inaudible and ringing loudly in your head. Your limbs could barely hold the weight of your body, and the nausea from jumping between timelines hitting your stomach didn’t quite put you at ease. All was blurry at first, not hearing nor seeing properly caused you to feel light-headed as well, but before your legs or your mind gave in, somebody strong arms held you up protectively.

- Are you good? – Diego’s gentle call for you brought you back to reality. He was always a little bit concerned about you. He didn’t show it in great actions, it was in the seemingly unimportant things he did for you. There wasn’t anything romantic involved between you two, instead of that it was a deep understanding of each another that made you appreciate the other significantly. You nodded to confirm that you were in fact all right, shrugging it off with a smile.

Klaus was right. After you successfully registered what he was saying, a wave of relief washed over your heart, mind, and soul. Your whole being. For once, all seven of you managed to successfully jump back to 2019 without any harm or mistake being done. It was quite unbelievable. A dreamlike scenario which proved itself to be nearly impossible to believe. Looking around the hall, everything seemed to be all right. It felt okay. The aura was intimately comforting, yet something was amiss. Different. Changed. It certainly was not a malicious ambiance that you discovered, but one new, something yet unexperienced thing. The others noticed it too, as all six of them were looking around suspiciously. Memories, feelings, and people rapidly invaded your mind, those you haven’t thought about a lot. Pogo? Grace? Are they okay now?

Luther suggested to enter the living room ahead of you, so that’s what you all mutually agreed to. Five was the one who went further on before you heroically and begged all of you to proceed with caution, because we don’t know what’s waiting for us there. The walk from the hall to the living room happened painfully slowly given that the feeling of uncertainty was sitting in one and all’s eyes and was at fault for your lack of speed. Upon realizing the academy was unnervingly noiseless, the anxiety birthed a huge lump in your throat, which you couldn’t swallow. Your heart was terrified from the possible negative outcome of this time jump. What if that moment of clarity and amenity was only a façade and was only felt because none of you faced reality in the short but drunk moment of arrival? Sometimes you thought about how nice it would be to just live without worry. To live in pure bliss, without a care in the world. Without a problem in the universe to solve. How astonishing it would be not to recall what loss, trauma, or sadness feels like. But then again, we would live in ignorance that way.

Turning towards the divans and sculptures in the living room, your attention automatically focused on the small moving figure, who was absentmindedly cleaning the shelves with dusting feathers. Recognition hit you like a truck, as the character of an ape appeared before you. Your breath hitched in your throat. Mercifully, it was a positive reaction, a sentiment you haven’t undergone in a long time.

- Pogo?! – Allison was the first one to call out their siblings’ friends’ name. Barely letting his name roll from her tongue, the sea of emotions instantly overthrew her, and tears stormed down her face. Their beloved guardian turned around in shock, he looked so puzzled, it was as he didn’t recognize the people in front of him. You feared that was the case. What if we screwed it up even more?

- Oh, children. I was waiting for you all to return – he’s spoken politely and gifted us with a kind smile, just like he always did. You almost forgot what a courteous and caring figure Pogo was. His scarce although deep voice reminded you of simpler times. A type of nostalgia which you subconsciously yearned for god knows how long. Everyone gathered around him in a matter of seconds, engulfing him in a suffocating hug. Pogo was still bewildered from the sudden act of affection, as you all were from seeing him alive and breathing, but in this instant of happiness, the questions why and how didn’t matter. What mattered was the present minute, what you currently knew as is.

And next, a voice broke the silence.

Who would dare to turn around first? Who wanted to confirm that the voice that was just heard from behind them, came from a legit source? On a serious note, was it even real? Your minds are only playing tricks on you. You were ecstatic for having Pogo back, but it would be too good to be true to turn around and see the possessor of the voice. We can’t have all the wonderful things. It never went that well for you. Your bodies turned stiff, and your feet were frozen on spot. But what made you fear to turn around? The horror of hearing something that’s not truly there or facing it bravely. Something…someone you haven’t faced in roughly two decades.

- What the hell took you guys so long? – the annoyance sounded so raw, hence genuine. You could hear and understand the words crystal clear; then why didn’t you believe your ears?

The group hug disassembled at a snail's pace and turned to face what they never expected to see ever again in their lifetime. You, on the other hand, had secretly wished for a moment like this. Your heart was aching for the chance, not caring about being rational nor delusional. It kept the faith in your soul steady.

- Please, tell me I’m not the only one who can see him – Klaus muttered.

- Ben – Diego confirmed in a hushed tone without letting out any more words as he didn’t need to. He was the bravest out of all of you to speak up.

So, there he stood in his monochrome outfit, with his black leather jacket hugging his form and a coy smile painted all over his face. The faint rosy cheeks, lively eyes and vivid emotions displayed told you everything. The Ben standing in front of you was very much real, and more importantly, alive, and well.

- All of you look like you’ve seen a ghost – he grinned from ear to ear, and his light-hearted joke legitimately freed your body from the tension which held you in your place so aggressively. Number Four didn’t hesitate one second longer, and slammed himself against his brother, who sweetly returned the embrace. Registering it, savouring it, then finally loving the physical contact, Klaus broke up in a hysterical laughter. The group succeeded to pull the strings in a way his death was luckily prevented. How the hell did we manage this? But he didn’t care. All that mattered was the present minute, what he currently knew as is.

- You’re telling me, man – his laugh slowly started to die down, but his joy only rose. Of course, a group hug was crucially needed and initiated effective immediately. Everyone surrounded him, and you held onto each other tightly, so he never slips away from your grasp again. You admitted it to yourself, that it felt heavenly, but more precisely, it felt so damn terrific. The others eventually backed away, but you stayed right in front of him.

- Hey, you – were all he needed to say for you to go flying into his arms – Where have you been? I missed you – his confession was a simple, warm, and loving anecdote, and it broke your heart in the best way possible.

You missed me?

Your loud sobbing, and ocean of tears was baffling and a mystery to him, and he looked at the others with a perplexed expression. They asked him to just let you be because they understood everything perfectly. Each tear was valid and every one of them had a reason. His arms were wrapped around your body, as he was shielding you from all the cruelty in this world. His embrace wasn’t tight, but fond and sensitive enough. You weren’t greedy at all; it was just all too marvellous. Hearing his stable beating heart as he held you close to his chest completely fulfilled you. A featherlight kiss was tenderly placed on your forehead by him, in an attempt to calm you down. It failed, as more droplets of salty water coated your apple-like cheeks. Even so, the kiss was given so compassionately, it must have come from heaven itself.

Maybe you were in Heaven. Maybe your life ended when you arrived in the hall. This isn’t real and I’m probably dead in Diego’s arms by now. But what if you accepted it as your reality now? You couldn’t believe it, even after feeling his touch and his kiss on your body. It might be because you thought you didn’t think your wish to see the person closest to your heart again would ever come true. After the horrific months you went through, it was certainly an impossibility to be gifted with something this enormous, significant, and joyous.

Maybe miracles and lucky days exist. Maybe they existed both on the same day in favour of you. I’ll accept this, I deserve this. You absolutely deserve to be happy and to drop the burden that’s been weighing on your soul for years. Nobody deserves to live their lives in inescapable guilt and grief. Having Ben back in all your lives meant the world to you. You were thinking about how you might have to fill him in on the details of the previous events, but that was a case for a later part of the day. For now, it was nice to bask in his love and warmth. You’ll care about every other issue later. This was the only feeling that mattered in that moment. Peace finally taking its rightful place back in your heart, which has been waiting for it for a long time now. He radiated pureness, an energy which was incomparable to anything else. Clutching his jacket was your anxiety making sure he doesn’t leave again. Maybe he was reading your thoughts, but at the same time he was realizing he’d never leave you even if it meant his life.

- I missed you too.

[gilmores-glorious-blog]

I’d Do Anything For You (a Willex fic)

-

My take on a post-episode 9 reunion between Willie and Alex! Just a warning, there’s more swearing than is canon compliant, and they pseudo-make out a bit. Anyways, hope you enjoy :)

-

Alex didn’t really understand what was happening, but that was nothing new. At least this time it was something good, he knew that much. 

“How… how are your stamps gone?” Julie asked once the group had finally stopped hugging. 

The guys all shrugged. They had the bare minimum of knowledge about Caleb and his stamps, and they definitely didn’t know anything about what caused them to disappear like that. 

Reggie spoke, wiping away any remaining tears. “We don’t know. I mean, I really don’t understand anything about Caleb’s magic. Maybe Willie would know, he’s the one who told us about the stamps in the first place.”

Oh shit, Willie. Alex had been too caught up in his elation of not double-dying to remember that Willie didn’t know they were okay. 

Alex realized that he’d breathed Willie’s name aloud, and now his friends were looking at him expectantly. 

“I, uh… would you guys mind… can I go-”

Luke interrupted Alex’s stammering, “Get outta here and find your boy.”

Alex smiled at them all one more time. “Thank you guys.”

Alex had poofed out onto Hollywood Boulevard, expecting to see Willie skating amidst the lifers. When he doesn’t find him there, he poofs to the beach where he’d hung out with Willie. Once again, there are no ghosts to be found. 

He’s checked the street, the beach, and he doesn’t know where Justin Bieber’s pool is, so he goes to the only other place he can think of where Willie might be- the museum. As he stands in front of the closed doors, preparing to poof in, Alex tries not to think about the very likely possibility that Willie is somewhere else completely- at the Hollywood Ghost Club, being tortured by Caleb for helping Alex and the band. 

No, he tells himself, you’re okay, and that means he’s okay. He’ll be here. 

Alex doesn’t mean to, but he transports himself to the exact spot where he and Willie had been before, the stone bench still sitting where they had moved it together. It only takes him a second to adjust to the new location before he notices that he isn’t alone. 

Willie has his back to Alex, and just like the last time they were here, Willie is screaming. It’s a much different sound this time, though. The yells are anguished, and based on the way the other boy is shaking, Alex thinks there must be sobs mixed in with the screams. Willie is kicking the bench furiously, and Alex can hear him cursing under his breath. 

Alex is so taken aback by the scene that he doesn’t do anything at first. But soon the part of him that is screaming at him that if he sees Willie like this for one more moment his heart will literally break takes over. 

  “Willie?” He says it softly, barely more than a whisper.

The ghost turns around, shock painted on his face.

“Alex…”

Alex doesn’t process what’s happening, but the next thing he knows, Willie’s arms are around around him, holding him tight. Alex relaxes into the hug, letting his head fall on Willie’s shoulder.

“Holy shit, I thought I’d lost you.” Willie mumbles into Alex’s ear. 

Alex pulls away slightly, just enough so he can look into Willie’s eyes. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Willie laughs slightly, though the sound is thick with tears. “What happened? Why didn’t you cross over? Shit, are you still having jolts? Are you going to fade-”

“Woah, who’s the one with questions now?!” Alex puts his hand on Willie’s shoulder, squeezing a bit in an attempt to calm him down. “I’m okay. We played the Orpheum, but didn’t cross over. Apparently that wasn’t our unfinished business. And… well we almost faded away, but we’re fine now! Julie saved us, somehow. I still don’t really get how. But look, my stamp is gone.” Alex rolls up the sleeve of Caleb’s suit that he’s still wearing to prove it to Willie.

“Oh my god, it’s actually gone.” Willie whispers, running his fingers over the spot on Alex’s wrist that had previously been marked with the bright purple stamp. Alex gulps and tries to ignore how Willie’s touch sends shivers through his body. “That’s never happened before.” 

“Oh. Huh. Well, the guys were hoping you knew what caused them to disappear, but I guess that’s not the case…”

“Nope, sorry man. Do you have any idea what it could be?”

Alex racked his brain, trying to remember what happened in those last few moments of blinding jolt-induced pain. “I dunno. I think… I think Julie said she loved us, though. And then she was able to touch us, and we all hugged, and the stamps just… floated away.”

Willie blinked, looking taken aback. “Okay, I’m not going to focus on the part where a lifer can touch you… but maybe love has something to do with getting rid of Caleb’s curse? I mean, it would make sense. I’ve spent decades with Caleb, the guy doesn’t even know the meaning of the word love.”

“I guess that makes sense.” Alex scratched at the back of his head awkwardly, unsure what to do. If Willie was right, does that mean Alex had a chance to free him? As much as Alex had spent the time where he thought he was going to disappear forever thinking about how he wanted to tell Willie how he felt about him, now that he had a chance to, it was a terrifying thing to think about doing. 

Alex realized that Willie had stopped looking at him, and was blinking ferociously. “Dude, are you okay?”

“Huh?” Willie looked up at him. “Oh, yeah, I just…” He trailed off, but after taking a deep breath, he looked Alex in the eyes and continued speaking.

“I thought I was never going to see you again. Even if you’d crossed over, which obviously I wanted you to, but if you had I still wouldn’t have been able to follow you. And if you had disappeared completely… I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself. And god, Alex, you nearly did. All because of me.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Alex assures him. “I told you, I don’t blame you for what you did. You didn’t have a choice.”

“Still, I.. I thought you were going to leave me before I even got to tell you how I feel.” Willie bit his lip slightly, not looking at Alex. 

If Alex had a heart, it would have leapt into his throat. “How you... feel?”

Willie nodded. “... about you.” He locked eyes with Alex again, an intensity in his hazel eyes. 

Alex was frozen, unsure what to do. He knew what he wanted to do, but Alex had never really been one to act impulsively, no matter how much he wanted to. What if he was wrong about what Willie meant? Maybe… maybe Willie was just a very affectionate person! Maybe he just meant he felt that Alex was cool guy. Or... or something. 

Alex could hear his friend’s voices in his head, telling him how much of an idiot he was being. Dude, he obviously likes you. We both saw that hug, not to mention the way he looked at you that night at Caleb’s. He really wanted to believe them. 

Alex broke eye contact briefly, his eyes flickering to Willie’s lips, which were parted slightly open in confusion. He realized how long it had been since either of them had spoken. 

“Alex?” Willie finally spoke, his voice soft and full of concern and curiosity. 

Screw it.

Alex kissed him. 

For a fraction of a second, Willie didn’t kiss him back and Alex’s fears came back worse than ever before. But then he felt Willie’s arms wrap around him and pull him closer to him, and his fears- along with any other coherent thoughts- were gone. All he could think about was Willie, the way his hair felt tangled in Alex’s fingers, the way he tasted of smoke and peppermint, Willie, the way one of his hands had moved to cradle Alex’s face, the way he murmured Alex’s name as he pulled back slightly for air… Willie.

The two eventually pulled apart, and Alex felt like crying tears of joy at how beautiful Willie looked, face flushed a deep red and hair mussed.

Without think, Alex said in a rush, “I think I’m in love with you.”

God fucking damnit, Alex. 

His eyes widened in fear, preparing to poof away and never show his face to Willie ever again. But Alex realized Willie wasn’t looking at him, instead he was looking down at his own wrist, where a purple stamp was floating off his skin and into the air around them. 

“Holy shit…” Willie whispered. He looked up at Alex in disbelief, eyes shining. “I guess I was right about the love thing.”

Willie continued to beam at Alex, but Alex couldn’t find it in him to respond, still mortified from his blurted love confession. He meant it, of course, but he hadn’t planned on saying it to Willie for a very long time, if ever.   

Finally he said something. “I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin the moment or anything, I just-”

“Sorry?! Alex, you just saved me! I’ve been under Caleb’s curse for years, and you just came along and freed me. I mean, what could I ever do to thank you enough?”

“Oh. Cool.” Alex looked at Willie in relief. “You could kiss me again, for starters.” 

Wille broke into his gorgeous smile, melting Alex’s heart in the process. “You don’t need to tell me twice.” He threw his arms around Alex and laughed, kissing him. 

“Oh and by the way…” He muttered against Alex’s lips. “I love you too, Hotdog.” 

[happyandticklish]

Feats of Strength

Notes: For the anon who requested a Hazbin Hotel fic where a wrestling match between Angel and Alastor results in playful, tickly fun. Here’s the finished result! :)

Summary: Angel is almost certain that he could beat Alastor in a test of true strength. Husk provides him a challenge to prove it.  

“Hey!”

Angel Dust squawked as shadowy tentacles reached out from behind him, firmly pulling him away from the bar where he had previously been flirting with Husk; the demon in question let out a sigh of relief at the action. “What’s the big idea, man? I was just trying to have a friendly conversation.”

Alastor gently deposited him on the ground, retracting his tentacles with a snap of his fingers. “Do please refrain from seducing our guests; it gives the hotel a bad reputation.”

“Husk is not a guest,” Angel complained, clambering to his feet. “He’s a bartender.”

“Nice distinction,” Husk replied dryly.

“Besides,” Angel continued, ignoring him. “You can’t just go around flinging people left and right with those freaky ghost arms of yours.”

“Oh I’m the one who has freaky arms?” Alastor inquired, arching a brow. He took a seat at the bar, gesturing for Husk to pass him a soda. He didn’t like to indulge in alcohol as he found it made people ‘sloppy’. “And quite frankly, I can do whatever I want with my ‘ghost arms’ as you call them. After all, there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Angel grumbled. “I bet you’re not so tough without your magic. There’s no way you could hold your own in a fight with just those scrawny arms to protect you.”

Alastor paused mid-sip, setting down his glass. “Is that a challenge?”

Angel, who wasn’t liking the other’s current tone but also wasn’t about to call chicken, tilted his chin up confidentially. “No, it’s a fact.”

Husk glanced between the two, debating the odds of breaking up whatever was about to go down. On one hand, he didn’t want to get caught up in the aftermath of a demon fight. But on the other, he was bored from sitting around in this stupid place all day and the current situation was bound to be entertaining.

“How about a bet?” he piped up, leaning against the counter. “A match, wrestling, between the two of you. That way we can settle who’s the strongest once and for all.”

Alastor’s eyes lit up at the prospect and Angel felt his stomach drop.

“Oh,” Husk added quickly, noticing the looks in both their eyes. “No powers, either. No fancy, hoity-toity bullshit; your physical strength has to speak for itself.”

“Worried our dear Angel won’t be able to handle it?” Alastor inquired mockingly, throwing the other a devastating leer that had his blood boiling. 

“I don’t know,” Angel growled, forcing a smug grin. “It sounds like you’re just afraid you can’t take me without any magic powers to hold you up.”

Alastor narrowed his eyes. “Alright. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Minutes later, Angel grunted as the radio demon’s weight bore down on him, nearly pinning him to the ground. Despite his slender frame, it was clear this wasn’t the first time he had done something like this. Angel had a certain limb advantage however, and swept a third arm under his legs, quickly flipping their positions so that he now towered over him. Two of his hands wrestled with Alastor’s in an attempt to apprehend them, while his other two worked on fending off Alastor’s legs which had already succeeded in kicking Angel in the stomach more times than he would have preferred.

Husk lit a cigarette, watching them with an amused gaze. He knew Alastor could fight, of course, but watching it in action was certainly something else. Angel was holding his own, despite this. The spider was quick and agile, dodging most of his attempts to grab hold of him. Their tussle had been going on for several minutes now, and he startled when a high-pitched voice besides him piped up, “What’s going on?”

He had been so wrapped up in the fight that he had failed to notice Nifty creeping up behind him. “A bet,” he explained as she climbed up on the counter for a better vantage point. “They want to see which of them is strongest.”

“Oh, Alastor’s got this in the bag,” she replied with breezy confidence. “It’ll be fun watching Angel get what’s coming to him, though.”

Husk snorted, forced to agree with her.

Meanwhile, Alastor had won their little battle of wills and freed one of his hands, which he now used to try to shove Angel off of him. “Just give up, my dear. It’ll be less embarrassing that way.”

“Ha!” Angel exclaimed, struggling to remain atop the writhing Alastor. “In your dreams! You’re going down old man.”

“Old—” Alastor’s offended confusion was frozen by a sudden squeak from Angel Dust. In the process of trying to get free, he had accidentally brushed against Angel’s ribs. Alastor’s eyes widened at the sound. “What was that?”

Spindly claws of panic crawled down Angel’s spine, the feeling only growing as he realized just how vulnerable he was, each of his hands occupied holding Alastor down. “Nothing, you startled me is all. Now c’mon, why don’t we finish this—no!”

Angel’s stomach jumped as Alastor reached up and started experimentally poking around the area. “Interesting. I never realized you were ticklish, Angel.”

“I-I’m nohot,” Angel insisted, biting back giggles as he attempted to somehow twist his body away from the other. “Y-Yohou’re behing r-ridihiculous!”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Alastor pointed out, scribbling claws over his stomach and grinning at the accompanying snort. “Why Angel, this is adorable! You should have told me about this sooner, think of all the fun we’ve been missing out on!”

“W-Whahat fuhuhun?” Angel Dust squawked, his grip growing weaker. “B-Behesides thihis i-ihisn’t fahair!”

“Of course it is—I’m not using my powers, are I? I do believe those were the only rules we set for the game.” Alastor reminded him. “Now, my dear, tell me—where else are you ticklish?”

“Nowhere, alright, so give it a rest—ack, w-wahahait!”

Angel burst into a round of cackly laughter as fingers crawled suddenly and deviously under his arms. That was the final straw. He squeaked, crumpling against him and bringing his arms down protectively, releasing Alastor in the process. 

“Tickling is against the rules,” Angel complained, rubbing away the phantom sensations. “Right Husk?”

Husk shrugged. “Eh, I’m cool with it.”

“What?” Angel exclaimed. “On what grounds?”

“The grounds that I decide what the rules are,” Husk replied coolly. “and also, you’re very cute when getting the shit tickled out of you.”

“You guys are dicks,” Angel muttered, before pausing as he played the sentence back in his head. “Wait, you think I’m cute—pfft, no!”

Angel squeaked and rolled away from Alastor’s hands which had somehow snuck their way back under his arms. Alastor merely wiggled his fingers menacingly when the other shot him an accusatory glance. “The match isn’t over, yet.”

Angel swallowed nervously.

The next five minutes consisted of Alastor essentially chasing Angel Dust around the living space, the other demon a mess of nervous giggles and protests. Husk leaned his chin on one hand, smiling affectionately at the sight.

“Remember Angel, you’re never fully dressed without a smile~” Alastor reminded him, squeezing his knee and prompting an unearthly screech from the other. Angel managed to roll away from him once more, panting heavily from the chase.

“Alright, you know what?” Angel grinned, and the sight sent a strange chill down Alastor’s spine. “If that’s the way we’re gonna play this, so be it.”

He launched forward suddenly, sending them both tumbling to the floor. With his lower arms he secured Alastor’s wrists, pulling them far above his head. He wrapped his legs around Alastor’s as well, so now the overlord’s body was completely stretched out. Angel raised his remaining hands menacingly, a smirk overtaking his features.

“Angel, this is quite ridiculous,” Alastor protested, attempting to free himself. “Do you know who you’re dealing with here?”

“Of course I do,” Angel Dust scoffed. “Some cocky shit who needs to learn what happens when you mess with me. Tell me, Al, how long do you think I’ve been in this profession?”

“I—”

“Don’t answer that,” Angel interrupted, cutting off Alastor’s confused reply. “A long time. Long enough to meet all kinds of people, who are into allllll kinds of things.” He rested his hands under each of Alastor’s arms, drumming his fingers slowly against the fabric. “You don’t think I haven’t picked up on the different methods, the strategies, from those experiences?”

“I’m afraid I’m not understanding you, dear,” Alastor responded stiffly.

“Let me more clear, then.” Angel Dust dragged his nails in an excruciatingly slow manner up and around the edges of his armpits, and Alastor’s grin widened into something a tad more helpless. “Did you really think you could pick a fight with me and win?”

With a ferocious softness, Angel spidered nails into each of his armpits, a relentless pace that had Alastor instantly squirming. He bit his lips, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to resist the sensations. Across the bar, Husk stared mouth agape at the sight of the radio demon, the most feared overlord in all of the nine circles, desperately trying not to lose his composure from something as simple as tickling.

Truly, life was full of wonders.

“A-Angel!” Alastor stammered, forcing his words around the laughter that begged to escape. “I-I demand you s-stop thihis at once!”

“Or what?” Angel inquired. “You’ll break the rules of the bet and use your powers on me? Or are you gonna somehow break out of this all on your own?”

Alastor jerked on his arms once more, though the other’s hold held strong. “M-Maybe nohot n-now! B-Buhut after—grk—ahafterwords, I shall h-have my revehenge!”

The words were undoubtedly true and Angel shook off his temporary apprehensions. “So what? All the more reason to make my time with you now all the sweeter.”

He kneaded fingers into his ribs suddenly and Alastor let out a bark of laughter as his struggling increased drastically. “P-Pfft, ahahaha, Ahahahangel!”

“There it is!” Angel exclaimed triumphantly. “I knew I could get that cute laughter out of you one way or another.”

“C-Cuhuhuhute?” Alastor exclaimed indignantly, but Angel Dust’s sudden switch to vibrating his fingers in-between each rib had him cackling. “Nohohoho, ehehe, rehehehelease mehehehe!”

“Sure,” Angel agreed. “Just agree that I’m the strongest and you’re home free.”

“Y-Yohohou’re nohohot thehehe strohohongest!” Alastor protested, his fingers gripping into the back of Angel’s suit and tugging uselessly at it. “Yohohou’re cheheheating!”

“What?” Angel teased. “So you can dish it out, but you can’t take it?”

Angel moved his hands down, pinching a path down the demon’s sides. Each poke and prod prompted a jump from the other, a fact that Angel found endlessly amusing. When he finally reached his hips Alastor started really squirming, a round of giggles (giggles, of all things!) falling from his lips.

“Ihihihi cahahahan’t! Stahahahap ihihihit!”

“Do you give up?”

“Plehehehease!”

Angel Dust shrugged, as if to say the matter was taken out of his hands. Digging his thumbs into his hipbones turned out to be a wildly effective method, but it wasn’t until Angel started to edge his touch towards his stomach that Alastor really started fighting him.

“Wahahahait, wahahahait, yohohou dohohohon’t hahahave tohoho dohoho thihiHIHIHIS!”

Alastor all but screeched as nimble fingers danced upon his midsection, the soft touch driving him mad with sensation. “Ahahahahahahangel!”

“Hmm?”

“I hahahaHAHAHahahate yOHohohoHOHOu!”

“Duly noted. Feeling’s mutual, bub.”

Angel grinned fondly at the squirming, giggling radio demon, and found that he had to admit, the sight was sort of cute. He always had fun teasing Al, but turning him into the shrieking mess he was now was a power high and Angel was loving it.

“God you’re adorable,” he murmured before he could think through the words.

Alastor’s eyes widened, a violent blush overtaking his features. Evidently the comment had been the final straw, as he managed to grip Angel’s hips from his trapped position. Angel shrieked, instinctively shoving the other away from him which was all the help Alastor needed to more fully free himself. He stood up, dusting off his pants and clearing his throat.

“Well, I hardly think we can call that a wrestling match,” Alastor concluded at last, after the pink had receded some from his cheeks. “It was simply childish tussling. This proves nothing.”

“You’re just sore cause ya lost,” Angel pointed out, leaning back on his hands to smirk at the other.

“I did not ‘lose’,” Alastor informed him snippily. “Did you hear me give in, or tap out? I think we can call that a draw, at best.”

“A draw?” Angel exclaimed indignantly. “Bullshit! I totally won!”

“If by won, you mean cheated, then yes I suppose you did just that.”

“You cheated first!”

The night quickly dissolved into petty arguments similiar to that while Husk and Nifty watched on, highly entertained by the sight.

In the end, they never did find out who was the strongest.

[fresh-prince-of-denmark]

Analysis of the Devil Ending: Who Died and Left Aristotle In Charge of Ethics? (Pt 5)

Hello and welcome back to me over-analyzing everything in Cyberpunk. If you haven’t read my other posts, please read those first! (V’s Mikoshi Poem, Johnny’s Mikoshi Poem, The Sun, New Dawn Fades).

This part took me a lot longer to complete. Not because it was particularly long…it was just painful. Jesus Christ. I hated every second of this ending. That shit hurted.

There were a few shards located at Arasaka’s estate that I chose to skip, as I did not find ant that were unique to the location. The three the game seemed to want to draw your attention to were actually not scattered as shards, they were spoken-word. The only shard I was able to find was a portion of The Odyssey. The other two pieces of literature are In Kyoto, which is quoted to V by the guard to takes her to the hospital room, and (what I believe to be) a reference to Plato’s The Allegory of the Cave. This section is going to be super theoretical. Like, more theoretical than the rest. So bare with me please.

Let’s start easy. This is the poem that the guard quotes at V as he leads her out of the operating room:

In Kyoto,

hearing the cuckoo,

I long for Kyoto

(By: Basho, translated by Jane Hirshfield)

Ten words. What could ten words amount to? The saddest goddamn words you’ll ever hear, dammit.  This poem is a feeling more than a concept. Ever feel homesick when you haven’t gone anywhere? Lonely when you’re around other people? That’s V. This was supposed to be a victory, supposed to be what they wanted. But now Johnny’s gone, scorned and betrayed, and no one they calls seems to even be able to give V the time of day. This was supposed to be a victory, their way of going back to the way things were, getting their life back, going home. But we can never go back, can’t ever erase our experiences, what we learn, how we grow. As Misty says, we should not fear change in of itself, but who we might change into. This just goes to show what happens when we betray ourselves by rejecting our own growth: all that’s left is bitterness and sorrow.

The next day when V wakes, you can pick up a shard containing a section from Chapter 8 of The Odyssey. Now, I’m not too familiar with the Odyssey. In fact, I hate the Odyssey. So if anyone wants to jump in here and add something more intelligent, I’m all for it. The Odyssey is the tale of Odysseus, who has been trying for ten long years to return to his wife and son after the Trojan war. Odysseus is basically listening to a bard remind him of all his Trojan War trauma, and begins to weep, at which time time people start questioning what’s up with this guy:

Say what thy birth, and what the name you bore,

Imposed by parents in the natal hour?

(For from the natal hour distinctive names,

One common right, the great and lowly claims:)

Say from what city, from what regions toss'd,

And what inhabitants those regions boast?

So shalt thou instant reach the realm assign'd.

In wondrous ships, self-moved, instinct with mind;

No helm secures their course, no pilot guides;

Like man intelligent, they plough the tides,

Conscious of every coast and every bay,

That lies beneath the sun's all-seeing ray;

Though clouds and darkness veil the encumber'd sky,

Fearless through darkness and through clouds they fly;

Though tempests rage, though rolls the swelling main,

The seas may roll, the tempests may rage in vain,

E'en the stern god that o'er the waves presides,

Safe as they pass, and safe repass the tides,

With fury burns; while careless they convey

Promiscuous every guest to every bay,

These ears have heard my royal sire disclouse

A dreadful story, big with future woes;

How Neptune raged, and how, by his command,

Firm rooted in a surge a ship would stand

A monument of wrath; how mound on mound

Should bury these proud towers beneath the ground.

But this the gods may frustrate or fulfill,

As suits the purpose of the Eternal Will.

But say through what waste regions hast thou stray'd

What customs noted, and what coasts survey'd;

Possess'd by wild barbarians fierce in arms,

Or men whose bosom tender pity warms?

Say why the fate o Troy awaked thy cares,

Why heaved thy bosom, and why flowed thy tears?

Reading this made me feel just how tired V must be. All this fighting, all this war, and for what? Much like Odysseus, V has been through hell and back (literally, depending on how you see it). And it never seems to end. V has been fighting for so long, yet there’s always something more; the tests the doctor gives her are endless, and they’re always being asked to do more, over and over again, with no results or end in sight. Odysseus is teetering on despair; nothing he does seems to do will ever be enough, just like V. The world will just take and take and take. It’s exactly what V’s poem asserts in Mikoshi; the world cannot be fixed, and resistance is futile. You can’t change how corporations rule the world, and as a protestor states on the TV in the hospital room, the rich have no boundaries or morals, and we are powerless to stop them from taking whatever they want. They can take not only our souls, but our bodies, devour them in order to prolong their own lives. Johnny would, of course, disagree. Even a slap in the face to The Man is better than submitting to a corpo-leash, even if that is the easier path. And in fact, he may be right, since it seems taking Hanako’s offer is the conformist path, and the only one that leads to Saburo coming back.

But Johnny isn’t there anymore to walk the rebel path at their side. No more guardian angel to whisper when they it most to never stop fighting.

There’s a lot more we could go into here with the Odyssey; comparing Arasaka to the story of Polyphemus and the cave, talking about themes of passion vs. commitment, yadayadayada. I hate the Odyssey so that can be someone else’s problem tbh.

The final piece is what the doctor asks V to read as one of their tests. Now, on surface-level, this is foreshadowing if V will choose to stay in their body, or be turned into an engram. It’s laughing at them, really, both pitying and mocking the fact that they believe they have a choice, since either way they’re once again at the mercy of the rich and powerful:

“And it was a sight to behold, he said, how a soul would choose its life; sometimes pitiable, sometimes laughable at times wonderful and strange. For in most cases, the souls made their choice according to the habits of a former life.”

I couldn’t find where this was from, or if it was a quote from anything. But googling it does bring up Plato’s Allegory of The Cave, which I thinks tracks pretty well. I found a quote from this chapter of Plato’s The Republic, which is strikingly similar in meaning. For the sake of my sanity, lets assume that this quote is referencing this one from Plato:

“And he will count the one happy in his condition and state of being, and he will pity the other; or, if he have a mind to laugh at the soul which comes from below into the light, there will be more reason in this than in the laugh which greets him who returns from above out of the light into the cave.”

If you’re unfamiliar with the allegory of the cave, it’s a philosophical discussion from Plato’s The Republic. It’s about how human perception is limited, and so true knowledge comes from the self via philosophical reasoning. Much like humans imprisoned in a cave with only shadows as their entire world, we cannot imagine the true world outside the cave until we leave to see it for ourselves.  Those who are freed from this limited reasoning have a duty to go back and free others, subjecting them to the full experience of awakening; both the pain and the triumph it entails. V starts out with a limited perception of things; a surface-level world, never stopping to see the bigger picture, until Johnny comes along and encourages them to question the status quo. In all other endings, V accepts this enlightenment. They challenge Arasaka, and try to follow Johnny’s legacy and Stick It To the Man. Yet if they accept Hanako’s offer in an attempt to return to “the habits of a former life,” they are rejecting this new understanding, refusing to leave the cave and live in ignorant bliss. This, I believe, is where Johnny’s true feeling of betrayal comes from: not because he’s being shredded, and not because he thinks V doesn’t know any better. V learned and changed just as much as he did, and this growth was something they were able to gift to one another. Johnny is proud of his change, proud to be someone trusted by V, proud at a second chance not to fuck things up. When V gives him control to go with Rogue to Arasaka, he’s ecstatic to prove himself worthy of that trust, to prove that he’s changed. Yet V, the person who aided in that change, is now actively ignoring and rejecting their own growth, and thus is betraying themselves. By not using their enlightenment to actively oppose the status quo and rebel, they are choosing the side of the oppressor by default.

Some of her last words if you choose not to sign the contract are to Goro, “You have no idea how good it feels to be free.” But the truth is, V is not free, and now they will never be free. By walking the path they have, they are choosing willful ignorance, stubbornly clinging to the darkness of the cave because it is easier to convince oneself that they are not a prisoner at all than it is to leave the comfort of one’s chains. Either way, they are caged, even if the bars the rich and powerful build around her are clear instead of solid. Her so-called freedom (and knowledge) is pure illusion — shadows depicted on a cave wall.

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

You Are Of Their Ilk - Sequel to 'You Need Tending'

[1] [2]

Part 3

[Masterpost]

--

Traveling with Wei Ying over land rather than on the river proves to be somewhat less terrifying. Once they’ve left the town behind and there’s nothing but empty road ahead of them he finds the energy once again to dart this way and that, chasing birds and turning over stones to see what may be hiding beneath them, but without the danger of losing him in the river, Lan Qiren is less inclined to admonish him for his behavior. Instead he simply watches closely whenever he wanders too far ahead for them to hear his excited babbling and he continues his sedate pace with his nephews obediently at his sides, confident that Wei Ying will always come running back to check in with him between adventures.

Though they are too polite to say anything (or write anything, in Wangji’s case) Lan Qiren knows that his nephews must be confused as to why he’s allowing such wild behavior for his new ward when he has always expected decorum and obedience of them. He takes the opportunity to explain one mid-morning when Wei Ying has run far ahead of them to overturn a rock almost too large for him to lift and poke at whatever grubs are beneath it with a stick. They are drawing nearer and nearer to Cloud Recesses and will arrive within a day or so if they’re able to maintain their pace, and so he feels that it’s time for them to understand what roles he’ll be expecting them to take on once they’re home.

“Wei Ying is a lively child by nature and he has lived without anyone to guide or teach him for a very long time, which has led to him being unaware of proper conduct. It is in the interest of his health to encourage him for now, when he is free to behave as he always has, to make sure he feels comfortable and safe with us so he will accept our help. When we reach Cloud Recesses I trust you two will help me teach him proper behavior so that he may fit in quickly.”

“Yes Uncle,” Xichen says dutifully, though it takes a bit longer before Wangji nods and faces forward again. They walk a few more moments in silence like that before Wangji suddenly lengthens his stride - almost running but not quite – to join Wei Ying where he’s squatting by the rock. He can just barely hear Wei Ying’s delighted cry of, “A-Zhan!! Lookit the bugs!” from where he and Xichen are still walking and, utterly without his conscious permission, the corner of his mouth twitches into a hint of a smile.

Traveling with Wei Ying is not always quite so…chaotic as that, however. Since the afternoon of their first day of walking and each subsequent afternoon since, Wei Ying grows so tired after their midday meal and the excitements of the morning that he would fall asleep on his feet if Lan Qiren didn’t carry him. After the initial fright of Wei Ying doing precisely that and needing to be caught before he’d fallen on his face in the dirt, Lan Qiren spends each afternoon with the boy perched on his back, his head resting on his shoulder and his little exhales puffing against the side of his neck. Lan Qiren is well aware of how heavy sleeping children should be, having carried his own sleeping nephews too many times to be counted over the years, and so he is continually alarmed by the fact that Wei Ying feels as if he weighs nothing at all on his back no matter how much eats - even when so deeply unconscious he should feel like a sack of bricks. It’s during these hours that Lan Qiren is viscerally reminded that for all his enthusiasm and energy when awake, Wei Ying is still very much in need of recovery from the hardships of his life up to this point.

Favoritism is frowned upon, but Lan Qiren doesn’t think anyone could see Wei Ying, could look at the light in his eyes and the laughter that comes so easily - and then hold him and realize he’s as fragile and light as a songbird - without wanting to protect him and give him the things his heart desires. So far those desires are all easily met anyway. He wants to spend time with Wangji and Xichen, he wants a hug from Lan Qiren in the evening before he sleeps, he wants food (though he still hasn’t learned he’s allowed to ask for it when he’s hungry), he wants to play. Any desires Lan Qiren may have to prevent him from receiving any of these things are promptly outweighed by the memories of each time Wei Ying has shown even a hint of the depth of his injuries, mental or physical.

As frail as the boy feels to him any time he stops moving long enough to be held, it’s a wonder to Lan Qiren when they finally make it to Cloud Recesses without any further incidents like the morning in town. For the children’s sake he has elected to bring them up the mountain by a quieter path than the road that passes through Caiyi Town. He has also elected to carry Wei Ying up the mountain, uncertain of the child’s footing or his ability to climb the mountain path under his own power (and wary of his tendency to run about. As illogical as it is he can all too easily picture the boy slipping on some wet leaves and falling right off the mountain and it makes him..anxious.)

Despite entering the mountain using a lesser-travelled path, there are still two disciples waiting for them at the boundary of the wards, and though Wei Ying has been nodding off on his shoulder he suddenly goes tense and hides his face properly in the curtain of Lan Qiren’s hair as soon as it’s clear the four of them aren’t alone anymore.

Lan Qiren steels himself for the way their lives are all about to change as the disciples salute him and he recognizes that he will no longer be able to allow Wei Ying to run as free as he always has.

Upon reaching the waiting disciples, the senior of the two informs him that the elders are waiting for his report from Yunmeng and he nods his weary acknowledgement. “I will return the children to their rooms and come make my report,” he says and does his best to ignore the dread curling through him.

Getting the children settled is easy enough. Xichen is, of course, well used to taking care of himself by now and Wangji is similarly accustomed to it when necessary. The only excuse he really has not to report immediately to the elders is Wei Ying, who is not as much of an excuse as he would like as he’s gone quite still and well-behaved all the sudden even though Lan Qiren can tell from the rhythm of his breathing against his neck as they walk through Cloud Recesses that he’s not asleep.

“It’s alright, A-Ying,” Xichen murmurs softly when they’re alone on the path to the family dormitories, having apparently sensed the same fear in him that Lan Qiren has. “A-Zhan and I are going to stay with you, you don’t have to see anyone else until you’re ready.”

Wei Ying nods a few times but says nothing, and the rest of the walk to Lan Qiren’s quarters is quiet. Wangji is still young enough to share the space with him but Xichen has been living with his peers in the student dorms for years already to better pursue his studies without distraction. He comes for tea once a week to report on his own progress and of course Lan Qiren monitors his studies personally so they see quite a lot of each other anyway, but when he passes through the space to deposit Wei Ying in the room he will be sharing with Wangji, Xichen looks a little startled to see his old bed and belongings precisely as he had left them the day he moved out.

Lan Qiren attempts to unsling Wei Ying from his back to set him down but the boy clings to him with surprising strength and attempts to nuzzle deeper into the back of his neck as if hiding beneath the fall of his hair will protect him from the rest of the world.

“A-Ying,” he says quietly, carefully, more wary than ever of speaking too sharply. If it comes out a bit too flat instead then he supposes that’s at least not as bad as it could be. “I must report our arrival to the elders and it is time for you to sleep for the afternoon as you do each day.” It isn’t the schedule of Cloud Recesses to allow children of his age to sleep in the afternoon and he will have to break him of the habit at some point, but any sort of structure had seemed beneficial during the uncertainty of travel and for now he’s wary of letting Wei Ying break out of it simply because he’s feeling nervous.

It takes a bit more coaxing from Xichen before Wei Ying allows Lan Qiren to carefully pry his fingers free, and as soon as Lan Qiren gets him down on his own two feet Wangji is right there to grab his newly-freed hands and tug him over to his own bed. Lan Qiren suppresses a sigh to see that he’s likely going to also have to break Wangji out of this new habit of sharing his sleeping space with Wei Ying – it had taken a long time to break him of the habit of crawling in bed with Xichen in the middle of the night when Xichen had still been living with them, and something tells him that Wangji is going to be even more determined to keep up the behavior out of concern for Wei Ying and his already obvious desire to take care of him.

A problem for the future. For now there’s nothing else keeping him from going to the elders and so once he reminds Xichen to watch the younger pair carefully and order food to be brought to them all when Wei Ying wakes, he leaves again. He takes a moment to straighten his robes from where Wei Ying’s grip has bunched them and to comb his fingers through his hair to ensure it’s lying perfectly flat and straight down his back, though no amount of fussing and attempting to achieve perfection will raise the elders’ opinions of him, as he’s already aware. It still wouldn’t do to appear too rumpled despite what he considers the very valid excuse of having been traveling with three children for the last few days and not even allowed a bath before being summoned.

No matter. He knows what has to be done and to give into the anger it could incite in him would only make the experience even more unpleasant than it promises to be. Best to simply get it over with and spend the rest of the day attempting to figure out how he’s going to balance his usual duties to the Sect and to Wangji’s education with the new duty of teaching Wei Ying how to be…well. Something besides a half-feral street child.

The elders are, of course, already assembled when he arrives and he feels the weight of their cold, perpetual disapproval as keenly as ever as he kneels in front of them to offer them a greeting and begin his reports.

“The guards at the boundary reported an unexpected individual with you upon your arrival,” Lan Feng says after Lan Qiren has delivered his last account of the business he had discussed with Jiang Fengmian while in Lotus Pier. Her tone is just acerbic enough to be plausibly deniable but impart her displeasure with him nonetheless.

“A child from Yunmeng and a new ward of the Gusu Lan,” he replies with a nod in her direction.

“The children’s hall is not prepared to accept a new occupant.”

Lan Qiren very carefully doesn’t curl his hands into fists on his knees but he’s unable to keep his fingers from twitching slightly – he just has to hope that it goes unnoticed.

“I will be taking the boy in myself.”

The ensuing silence is heavy around his shoulders, full of the weight of the intense judgement he has become well accustomed to after feeling it for most of his life.

“That is inadvisable.”

“I understand it is not ideal, but I have already given the boy my word that I will take responsibility for him.”

“Your duties to the Sect and the Heirs take precedence over this...ward.”

“They do. The boy’s presence will not keep me from fulfilling them.”

“You were never meant to run the Sect,” Lan Yun intones. The criticisms that have already been levelled at him thus far have come from several of the elders, but they all go still at this (rather unnecessary) reminder of Lan Qiren’s inherent shortcomings. Lan Yun is the oldest of the lot as far as Lan Qiren is aware - certainly his word carries the most weight. He is also, in Lan Qiren’s experience, extremely opinionated and unafraid of offending anyone at all. “Your work is still standard at best, nothing like what we expected of Qingheng-Jun prior to his indiscretion. You should focus on improving for the sake of the Sect rather than wasting your energy on a stray child from Yunmeng.”

The general murmurs of assent that pass through the gathered elders have Lan Qiren’s neck tingling and he digs his fingertips into the tops of his thighs just above his knees to attempt to ground himself.

“I am aware of my faults,” he says with his gaze trained on the floor beneath him to avoid letting any of them see the anger burning in his gaze for their flippant dismissal of him, as if he hasn’t known his entire life that he has never been as favored as his brother, never meant to do great things. As if he doesn’t know he is absolutely no one’s first choice for much of anything.

The elders have always wished Qingheng-Jun would lead them. His nephews have wished their whole lives that their parents would raise them, particularly their mother prior to her passing. He is a good teacher, an excellent one even by many standards outside of Gusu, but there are others within Cloud Recesses who have more experience than him who would be chosen before him no matter the circumstances. The only thing in which he truly excels is his knowledge of the rules, but that is only to be expected. All Lan disciples know the rules, it’s not impressive that he does as well even if he has a better understanding of those rules than many would be able to claim.

Yes, Lan Qiren is extremely aware of his faults, as he has never been allowed to forget them.

“I am aware of my faults,” he repeats into the heavy silence. “However, I have an obligation to this boy. He is alone in the world and frightened. I do not believe he will excel with any guidance but my own at this time.”

“Beware of pride, Lan Qiren,” Lan Feng warns instantly, to remind him yet again that none of them thinks he has any noteworthy skills to speak of.

“It is not pride, but humble observation. I understand that had someone else found the boy there are many who would raise him better than I will. However, he has grown to trust me these last few days and I believe he will be open to instruction from myself before anyone else with whom he is unfamiliar. I will prepare him to take classes alongside his agemates when the time comes, and then I will turn his education over to those who are more qualified to do so.”

He does not say that Wangji will likely become inconsolable if they attempt to separate the two, as that would only prove his defective parenting in being unable to control the emotional response or Wangji’s behavior - or perhaps even in encouraging the boy’s affection in the first place. He does not say that Wei Ying will likely lash out should he feel himself backed into a corner in which he doesn’t feel safe, as that will only be further proof to them that Lan Qiren will be unable to handle raising such a difficult child along with his other duties. He does not say that once upon a time he had been the top academic in his classes and that, should they allow him a proper chance to teach he might continue to improve enough to meet their standards, as that would show ingratitude and perhaps the threat of pride again, that he thinks himself capable of becoming better than the current teachers who have been instructing the Lan youth since he had been a child.

He learned very quickly after being thrust into his current position in life that anything he says to the elders beyond that which is absolutely necessary could easily turn into yet another weapon in their hands, and so he says the bare minimum and accepts their displeasure with him as steadily as he can bear.

“The moment this responsibility becomes too difficult for you to maintain, you will relinquish the boy to a more appropriate situation,” Lan Yun declares. “We will closely monitor the boy’s behavior and studies to ensure you are not neglecting this responsibility you have taken on.”

It’s the same thing they said to him when he took Xichen in following his birth, and Wangji’s as well. Lan Qiren bows fully both to acknowledge the threat of losing the children he loves due to his own incompetence as well as to take his leave.

“This humble one thanks the elders for their wisdom,” he barely manages to say through the tumultuous thundering of his emotions. He stands and retreats with his head held high and shoulders braced against the stares that follow him out of the room like an angry ghost at his shoulder.

He doesn’t breathe easily again until he’s nearly all the way back to his rooms, but he knows already that he’s in no position to attempt to be calm and collected for the children as he needs to be and so he takes a different path to begin walking the familiar track that marks the perimeter of the wards that protect the inner residences and main pavilions of Cloud Recesses.

He’s constantly aware, of course, that the Sect as a whole (not just the elders) is watching and waiting for the day he fails. There probably isn’t a day that the knowledge of it doesn’t cross his mind, though after over a decade of it he can typically ignore the way it makes his shoulders tense and his gut feel empty and hollow. He has long since resigned himself to doing what must be done on his own and being judged for it at every step of the way. And yet, for some reason, his discussions (if they can be called such) with the elders never fail to make him feel like a much younger man again, still reeling from the whirlwind of his brother’s misbehavior and subsequent isolation and suddenly being handed the reins his brother had so carelessly tossed aside - all for the love of a woman who didn’t even love him in return.

He had never been prepared for Sect leadership. Qingheng-Jun had been, for his entire life, the golden child, the pride of the Lan, perfectly primed to take their father’s place when the time came. And he had. He had been allowed to grow into the position, the expectations. He had been carefully trained first at their father’s knee, and then at his side until the mantle of Sect Leader was comfortably and naturally passed from father to son when their father had been ready to retire. He had retreated from the world confident in the security of his sons, Qingheng-Jun bringing honor to the ancestors and to the Sect, and Lan Qiren doing his duty to support the Gusu Lan in whatever way he could with his average cultivation and unwavering loyalty.

He had never once been expected to lead the Sect, or to even provide heirs let alone raise them. No one had ever expected much of him at all, really – he was only the spare, the emergency plan, the lackluster younger brother who paled in comparison next to the radiance of Qingheng-Jun.

It had never truly bothered him until the day all eyes had suddenly turned to him and found him wanting, but unfortunately necessary.

He has spent every day since fighting to be respected, fighting to show that simply because he was unprepared that does not make him unfit for the responsibilities laid at his feet. He had done as much as he possibly could to learn what was needed without the elders’ help, as their guidance in those early days had visibly come with the cost of any burgeoning respect they may have for him, any potential hope at all in his capability.

He had barely begun to feel he had his feet under him when word had reached him that Madam Lan was pregnant. He supposes now, with a wry, dark sort of amusement, that his brother had at least performed one more useful function in his seclusion (even though it was clear evidence of his breaking it) and provided the Sect with the heirs that Lan Qiren very heartily did not wish to. Not only did the mechanics of such a thing make him feel like running to seclude himself from the rest of the world as well, but the idea of passing his unlucky reputation onto whatever children he could help produce had always made him equally ill at ease. At least Xichen and Wangji are free of the taint of his direct lineage, for surely any heirs of his blood would face the same sort of unfavorable scrutiny as he has himself. Xichen and Wangji, though they’re being raised by him, are already the darlings of the Sect for which he’s immensely grateful.

Though Xichen’s birth had been another addition to his responsibilities, it was one that Lan Qiren had welcomed in a way he never would have expected of himself prior to the precise moment Xichen - then a wide-eyed infant with a perfect little shell-pink pout and full cheeks - had been carefully placed in his arms. He had reached one chubby hand up as if to touch his face, Lan Qiren had leaned down to allow it, and in that moment he had promptly lost a piece of his heart to his first nephew – a piece he was more than happy to lose.

Despite Lan Qiren’s numerous shortcomings and failures in raising him, Xichen is already showing promising signs of growing up into an incredible man. He will lead the Sect well, of that Lan Qiren is certain, but he also knows that Lan Xichen will be kind and generous nearly to a fault, and he already cares deeply for every person he meets. He’s good, genuinely good, down to his core, and the Sect adores him, including the elders. Lan Qiren can only be grateful that he’s so far free of the stain of the previous generation.

When Wangji had followed after his brother five years later, Lan Qiren had been much more prepared to shoulder the burdens of parenthood and juggle them easily with the demands of Sect leadership, though no one but him seemed to believe that to be the case. The elders had watched him like a hawk for years after Wangji’s birth, waiting for him to slip, for the boys to show signs that he was anything less than attentive and dedicated to their improvement, or that he was so engrossed in their development that he was letting the Sect fail for their sakes.

He can recognize now with chagrin that the external pressure had led him to be stricter than he would have otherwise felt inclined to be with the boys. Xichen, with his gentle nature, shows fewer signs of this error. But Wangji, who is so like Lan Qiren in too many ways to count, has taken every stern word to heart and become such a serious little thing that Lan Qiren knows even Xichen sees enough of it to be worried on his brother’s behalf. Lan Qiren had worried when he fell silent following Madam Lan’s death that that would be the excuse the elders needed to take the boys away from him, but thankfully they only see it as a phase, a sign that he’s taking the rules to heart perhaps a little too much but an extreme that he will ultimately grow out of. Lan Qiren, who often wishes he had the luxury of keeping utterly to himself in such a way, is not as convinced that that will be so. He keeps this fear to himself for Wangji’s sake.

Either way, the boys are both praised at every turn for the credit they are to their Sect, and Lan Qiren is more grateful for their presence in his life than he will ever find the words to express. His own stain on the Lan legacy will be short lived in the grand scheme of their history, and his only hope is that Lan Xichen shines so bright in his adulthood that Lan Qiren’s failures will be forgiven him.

As the sun dips deeper in the west Lan Qiren takes note of the time almost without thought and turns his slow steps towards home again, aware that Wei Ying will wake soon and he should likely be there when he does. He doesn’t know yet what kind of child Wei Ying will prove himself to be when some of the rough edges of his experiences have been sanded away and his behavior corrected into proper paths, but he hopes that he too will live to outshine Lan Qiren as a final proof to the elders that bringing him into the Sect wasn’t a mistake. After so many years of fending for himself and being on his own Lan Qiren can’t help but think that Wei Ying deserves support, a family, a place to call home that is capable of being kind to him.

Lan Qiren may never in this life earn the support or affection of the Lan simply for the crime of being born second-best and forced to take the helm despite that, but by the gods he’s going to ensure that the children in his care will never have reason to doubt that they’re appreciated and loved here in their home.

[ververa]

“Everyone Finds True Love Or At Least A Dancing Partner” part 1

A/N: This idea is based on the movie Dirty Dancing. In fact  it was supposed to be Dirty Dancing, but my unpredictable mind came up with something else. I would never figure it all out on my own - this is all thanks to @misssmephisto​ and @emilyprentissisababe​ who bear with me all the time. Thank you so much for your help and motivating me to keep going!!! <3

I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Also wish me luck with writing further parts.

 Cordelia Goode x fem!reader

Word count: ~5,000

Heartache. Nothing, but a heartache. That’s what accompanied Cordelia her whole life. Ever since she could have remembered people were breaking her heart. And it was going on like that in a loop. First it was her mother, then Hank and if that wasn’t enough to break her, burning Myrtle at the stake undoubtedly was the last straw.

She knew that the only way out was through, but it was hard. Cordelia felt broken. At times she was barely holding on. She craved love, affection and acceptance, but all she got was betrayal, lies and unredeemed promises. Whatever she did, it never was enough. Apparently her heart wasn’t the right advisor. So she didn’t want to follow it ever again. She stopped trusting it, which seemed to be the safest, the best thing to do to protect what was left of her heart. She had been through so much and was forced to face it all on her own. All that made her built up walls. The walls that became her new home. She didn’t want to fall again, knowing that she was always the one to end up being broken and hurt. Cordelia began considering love as a weakness and she didn’t want to be vulnerable ever again. Though, there was something so strong inside her, that made her believe she would get up no matter how many times she would be brought up to her knees. She had been pushed way past the point of breaking, but there she was - still standing. Times were hard, with no doubt, but she was built tough and she was capable to pull through. She thought she was ready for everything, yet as it turned out, she wasn’t quite ready for you. 

Just when she moved on, convinced herself that she preferred to be on her own and decided she didn’t need anyone, you waltzed into her life. You came in all your glamour and beauty, doing nothing, but your thing. And that was enough. Nothing could rescue her. No matter how hard she tried to stop those thoughts, there was that something. Something inside her saying that the two of you could belong together.  

You took what was left of her heart hostage. She was trapped in your love, yet she hadn’t felt freer ever before and she didn’t want out. You freed her from the dust she was buried in. You fixed her heart piece by piece and she was bound to you. Your love felt different. It wasn’t like anything she had ever experienced. Your love was sweet and pure and unconditional. You made her embrace her fears and all the things she was carrying inside for years. You made her stronger. You took her for what she was - and that was the only thing she had ever desired. Yet still, she knew that all the good things, sooner or later, had to come to an end.

Even though the two of you had to part you didn’t let her fall. Not completely at least. You didn’t break her heart. What you did was what had to be done and she knew it. She accepted it and agreed on it, because no matter how badly you wanted to be together there was no way to do it. No plan that could work. All you could do was to let each other down gently.

At first Cordelia was sure she was fine. She came back to her routine, or rather she thought she did. Though in reality it wasn’t possible. Not since the summer. Since that damned vacation she spent with you. She couldn’t live like before. She couldn’t move on, because there was no way to run away from her mind and the memory of you. The worst thing about that was probably the fact she couldn’t grieve, because you hadn’t hurt her. There was no wound, yet it still caused her a lot of pain.

And there she was, in her office. Trying to work, but failing. Spending each minute of the day on recalling you. On recalling that pure feeling of bathing in your love. All that she wanted was to have you next to her - every day and night, just always by her side. Just like then, but the time you had together was over.

_

Convincing Cordelia to take some time off and go on proper vacation was challenging to say the least. In point of fact it seemed impossible, pointless. Handling the Academy and students entrusted to her care was Cordelia’s priority. It was always like that. Her work had always been very important to her, but after she rose as the new Supreme it practically became her whole life. To say that Cordelia turned into a workaholic wouldn’t be an exaggeration. But she wasn’t working just for the sake of work. It was her way of remaining sane, while having a hard time adjusting to the new role, dealing with her emotions and the loss of her dear aunt - Myrtle.

She barely left her office - unable to stay out of duty, worrying that if she takes some time off and allows herself to fully embrace the power she had, she may turn into her mother. The thought of it itself was causing her a lot of distress. And work seemed to be the only escape, the only way through it. The way to prove herself. 

There was always something that needed to be done, something more important than her private life, especially that the former Supreme - her larger than life mother, neglected many things. And Cordelia wanted to fix it. Fix everything and get back to the glory days of the Miss Robichaux's Academy. She didn’t even realize that she got so preoccupied by the great idea that she almost completely forgot that beside being the Supreme, she still was a human. She pretty much didn't have life out of the Coven. Of course, Cordelia didn’t consider it a problem, but at some point and in some way, it began bothering her girls. Especially Zoe, who, after Myrtle’s death, was probably the closest with the Supreme.

"You always take care of us. Let us take care of you for once" Zoe practically begged

"I'm good, but thank you"

"Come on, Cordelia! You never treat yourself” Madison interfered

“I understand that being the Supreme and the headmistress means that you have a lot of responsibilities, but once in a while you should be a bit selfish and take care of yourself" Zoe kept trying to convince her

"Zoe, I already told you, I'm not going anywhere"

The younger witch rolled her eyes at her stubborn friend.

"Don't make me do that"

"Do what?"

"If you don't take at least three weeks off, we'll riot"

"You will what?" Cordelia asked dumbfounded

"We'll stop working and the girls will stop attending classes and then whether you like it or not, you'll be forced to take a break yourself"

The Supreme sighed. She put down her pen, took off her glasses and looked at the girl for the first time since she had entered her office.

"You can't do that" she frowned

"We can and we will" Zoe stated crossing her arms across her chest

Cordelia thought for a moment. She remembered all the times when they had tried to convince her and considering that they kept on pestering her for over three weeks or so, she knew they could indeed riot. They had been basically begging her to take a break, but she kept thinking of all the things that could possibly go wrong without her being there. 

"Stop overthinking" Zoe said "We'll be okay"

"Fine" Cordelia said rising her hands as an act of capitulation. A few days off didn't sound that bad after all.

"I'll take a few days off. I'll just stay in the greenhouse and take care of my plants. It's been a while since I-"

"No! You're not staying here. You're going on proper vacation" the younger witch cut her off

"Zoe..."

"No! We'll take care of everything, while you go to that nice holiday resort we found for you. I'll book you a room and organize everything. All you need to do is pack up"

"Or I'll stay right here"

"Cordelia" Zoe said sternly "No"

"What if I promise I'll stay away from my office?"

"If you stay here you'll not do that. And that's why you're going"

Cordelia sighed. "It's preordained already, isn't it?"

"Yes. Yes, it is. But it's only for your own good, Cordelia. We're worried about you. You keep working and barely rest. You almost never leave your office, so a trip can only do some good for you" Zoe assured

The Supreme wasn't thrilled, but she gave in knowing there was no use trying to stand up to her girls. 

It had been a long time since Cordelia went on holiday. And she couldn't even recall the last time she went anywhere on her own. There was always something more important to do - the Academy, her students, her ex husband - who wasn't a fan of traveling, then Fiona and all the troubles the Coven encountered before Cordelia became the Supreme. No wonder she felt a bit anxious about the whole vacation thing.

-

The moment her chauffeur opened the door and her eyes set on enormous complex of buildings, Cordelia was shocked, outraged in fact. That was not what she had seen in the pictures the girls had showed her. That was not what she had agreed on. She wanted peace and quiet not over one thousand people in one place. But it wasn't about the place. It was about the feeling it gave her. The feeling that reminded her why exactly she didn't like going on holidays. The massive buildings, the tide of people, the noise, the chaos - it was all overwhelming. So much that she was ready to hide back and head back to the Academy or anywhere. Just anywhere seemed to be better than that place. 

Cordelia looked to Zoe and Madison, who accompanied her. She wanted to ask if there was any other option, but before she could, an older man, all dressed up in an elegant suit, appeared. 

"Miss Goode! I'm Gerald Castle, the owner" his resonant voice greeted them "Welcome to the paradise" he chuckled proudly pointing to the building

Cordelia sighed and gave him a half smile. In this very case the luxury and splendor of the place were rather annoying.

"You're our special guest" the man added "let me show you around"

Cordelia looked between the man and her girls. Still considering the escape, though, yet again, the decision was made for her. She was practically forced into the "garden" as they called the place with only one kind of flowers, which state was so poor that looking at them itself caused Cordelia great pain. While she was considering all the ways in which she could possibly fix all the damage done to the plants, the man kept dragging-pushing her farther. The Supreme turned her head to look at Zoe, voicelessly screaming for help, hoping that maybe they'd change their mind and let her go back. But they were relentless.

It was such a ridiculous situation. She was the Supreme, which seemed to mean nothing at that point and regardless of all the power she possessed she was the one taking the orders.

Was it because she couldn't stand her ground or because deep inside she actually wanted to stay there. She couldn't tell which one was it and her thoughts were soon interrupted by Gerald

"We prepared for you one of our best suites"

Cordelia tried to smile. She really wanted to like all of it. Gerald seemed to be nice and put a lot of effort into making sure she liked everything. But despite all that she hated it. It was too much. Too many people. Too many too huge buildings. Too little plants. Too little green.

She tried to find some positives, but there were none. 

"And this is my grandson Adam. He'll accompany you throughout your stay. Whatever you need tell him and you'll get it" Gerald said finally freeing her from his embrace

 Cordelia nodded, offering a small smile to the younger man. Madison looked him up and down. He was nothing like Gerald and had no idea how to pair his clothes, so that he'd look presentable. He was wearing suit and a shirt with pineapple pattern.

“He looks ridiculous” Madison whispered to Zoe, earning herself a nudge in the arm 

"Hello. It's nice to meet you ladies" he tried to be charming, but failed "Let me tell you about our attractions here-"

"Take it easy, man” Madison cut him off, even she could notice the tiredness and impassivity hidden behind Cordelia's perfect smile “Our little old lady needs some time to relax after the trip. Do you have any idea how long it takes to get here from New Orleans? Besides nobody cares about what you say. Just let her be and if she wants your boring babble, she'll for sure let you know. So, just give her the key to her room and leave her alone"

Normally Cordelia would chide Madison for her behavior, but at that time she was actually relieved and grateful there was someone who was rude for her. 

"Of course" Adam nodded and without saying a word led them to Cordelia's suite

As soon as they entered Madison threw herself on the king sized bed.

“Madison, get up! We don’t have time. We need to go back” Zoe said

“Do I really have to stay here?” Cordelia asked looking out if the window

“Yes”

“But-”

“No! Gosh, no. You’re staying here and you’re going to rest”

"Are you sure you don't want me to come back?" Cordelia looked at the younger witch pleadingly

"Yes" Madison said

The Supreme sighed

"But you know you can call me anytime and I'll come back?" 

"Cordelia Goode, stop worrying and start enjoying your free time"

“In fact, Cordy, you could use some company. If you know what I mean…”

“Madison!”

“Just chill and have some fun” 

Enjoying free time and having fun... What did that even mean? What was she supposed to do? And how other people managed to survive with such amount of spare time? Cordelia had absolutely no idea what to do. She couldn’t find herself a place. She was having a really hard time and couldn’t even enjoy the simplest things such as reading. There was nothing she could occupy her mind with, so she decided to go on a walk and explore. She hadn’t planned on drinking, but since she came across the restaurant and a bar it actually seemed to be a good idea. Definitely better than wandering aimlessly at night.

The place she found herself in was really fancy. Too fancy in fact, but that stopped surprising her. Apparently everything there was overdone and bereft of tastefulness. The only good thing there was probably music. A middle-aged singer singing Crazy by Patsy Cline, accompanied by the band made the atmosphere more bearable.

 Cordelia sat at the bar - watching couples dancing to the slow, pleasant rhythm. That was the first time she actually felt a bit lonely. Maybe Madison was right. Maybe some company could do her good.

A few drinks, or rather bottles later Cordelia’s mind went further. She began thinking about her whole life. Hank never liked dancing. He lacked tenderness that Cordelia found crucial to be able to dance the way people there did. In fact he lacked many things, but she only realized it when they weren't together anymore.

The Supreme shook her head, trying to get rid of the intrusive thoughts that flooded her mind. She might already have had too much wine, but it still didn't feel like enough, so she ordered another glass.

"It's not good wine" a woman from the other side of the bar said smiling sympathetically

"I don't care" Cordelia sighed 

She felt pretty blue that evening and if the alcohol was the only thing that could actually help her, she definitely was going to go for it.

The bartender poured her another glass of wine. She forced a smile and thanked the woman before taking a sip. The night was young, so she still had pretty much time to figure out what having fun mean. Cordelia stared at her glass, when the band started playing another song. She felt funny. She was a bit dizzy and for some reason everything made her want to laugh. The wine took its toll on her, but she regretted nothing. After all, she was finally enjoying her time. That was until Adam appeared to check on her and then stayed to keep her company. How she wished Madison was there to use her snarky comments and make him go away. But in the temporary state of euphoria she was in she didn’t really mind bearing with him that much. It was probably because his words were barely making any sense to her and he definitely knew that. It was impossible not to notice that Cordelia was drunk. That was the only explanation for her agreeing to dance with Adam. 

He held her close - closer than she would ever let him if she was in a sober state of mind. And for a few minutes he might have her full attention, but then you appeared and you stole the show.

There were many things Cordelia’s drunk mind didn’t register, but even being in such a bad state she could not miss you. It took you only a few minutes to got all the attention. 

People began cheering and clapping appreciatively as you and your dancing partner moved doing more spins than they could keep the track of and all kind of different figures none of them could copy. Cordelia stopped immediately, trying to regain the ability of thinking clearly. She felt a flow of power, which - in her state - struck her as being strange. Yet somehow it made her a bit more sober.

“Who’s that?” she asked

“Oh.. them…They’re the dance people” Adam tried to brush it off, but Cordelia looked at him questioningly demanding more information “They’re here to… umm keep the guest happy”

Cordelia smiled looking at you. She couldn’t gather her thoughts and failed to comprehend whatever Adam was saying. All she knew was that he kept trying to dance, but his moves didn’t even resemble dancing. That’s why watching you was far more better.

You really knew how to move. And Cordelia couldn’t help, but stare in awe. She was absolutely enchanted by your spins and all the other things you did… She had no idea that anyone could be this flexible. Cordelia couldn’t take her eyes off of you. She was hypnotized by the way your body moved. You seemed so light as your partner lifted you up so effortlessly. You seemed so free, yet completely focused and in total control of what you’re doing. You moved so gently and easily. Almost as if you were just walking - not jumping, spinning around or throwing your legs up in the air higher than she  had ever seen. Not to mention that the way you looked was pleasing to the eye. Your short, airy dress lifting up every so often, showing off more and more of your skin, didn’t left much to the imagination.

Cordelia was in completely agreement with what Adam said. She was the guest and she was happy thanks to you. And at that point it seemed to be the only relevant information that Adam had delivered since her arrival. But all of that didn't matter as you finished the sequence and bowed to the spectators - who were cheering even louder. It didn’t matter, because her eyes met yours and you proceeded to walk towards her. At that moment her heart skipped a beat. There was some undefined power attracting her to you, drawing her to you like a moth was drawn to the light. Cordelia didn’t know what it was, but she was willing to throw herself into the flames.

The last of her sobriety had to be used to resist Adam, who desperately tried to drag her out of the room. He was stronger than he looked and it was a real struggle. Cordelia knew she wouldn’t manage to withstand for too long, as her mind was slowly getting blurry again. But there you were - to rescue her.

“Adam, leave the poor lady alone” you shot him a warning look, but the professional smile remained on your face

“Piss off, Y/N”

You looked at him, your head tilted to the side. “Rude” you said frowning 

“Shouldn’t you be on the dance floor?”

“I am on the dance floor”

“Then dance with someone. I don’t care. Just stop bothering me and our special guest”

“Being around you is already bothering enough, besides, as far as I’m concerned your duties do not include spending time with any of the guests outside the restaurant” you smiled with satisfaction knowing he couldn’t argue with that.

“May I?” you offered Cordelia your hand, which she happily took

She didn’t mean to  giggle, but it was stronger than her. She was really drunk and just as you led her to the dance floor, away from Adam - the alcohol hit her once again. You tried to dance with her, made her move, but she kept stumbling.

‘Oh Lord…’ she heard your thoughts

‘I’m so sorry!’ she said, not realizing she did it mentally, when she stepped on your foot

“It’s fine” you said, not aware she didn’t really spoke up 

Cordelia tried to follow your moves, but ended up pushing against you more and more. Her legs felt funny, kind of weak. Too weak to carry her. She was relying on you almost completely. And as hard as you tried, you couldn’t hold her like that. Cordelia heard your sigh and felt your hand moving - you waved at someone. She watched intently as a man with whom you were dancing earlier approached you.

“Elliot, you need to help me take her to her room”

‘Oh no. I’m not going anywhere’

“Yes, you are”

Cordelia even in her drunk state, could notice confusion on the man’s face. You shook your head, apparently it was your way of telling him not to ask, so he remained silent.

“Come on, you need to lie down” you said letting her lean against you, not wanting to draw other guests’ attention

She didn’t resist. She had only just met you, but would do absolutely anything you said. Why? She had no idea. She just felt like she could trust you. As if she had an immediate connection with you. Cordelia was so close to you. Your grip on her waist was strong, yet still gentle. And something about the way you held her like that was so intoxicating that even the Supreme couldn’t resist.

“Lift her up” you said breathlessly after a few minutes of practically carrying her

“W-what?”

“We don’t have time and she clearly can’t make it to the room on her own. C’mon, Elliot!”

“Do you know who she is?”

“Trouble?” Cordelia could feel how you shifted to look at her “Yes, I’m aware” your cold hand brushed a strand of her hair from her face

“No. I mean in your case probably yes, but… She’s Cordelia Goode. Gerald’s special guest”

“Uhym… And because she’s his special guest, his grandson obviously can lay his hands on her?” 

“Nooo… Of course not”

“Then lift  her up and let’s go, before someone notices”

Cordelia heard every word, though couldn’t keep her eyes open. She didn’t know what was going on any more, but somehow she felt calm. She felt calm as long as you were there. The last thing she heard was Elliot’s sighing before he carefully took her and lift her up as you ordered. She could feel you moving away and before you could move too far she grabbed you by your wrist.

‘Don’t leave me…’

“I’m not going anywhere” you put your other hand on hers, which made her relax a bit

Cordelia tried to open her eyes as Elliot carried her to the hotel. She definitely had too much alcohol. Your face looked so blurry. As if she was looking at you through water from the bottom of a pool. Plus you were bouncing, or rather seemed as if you were which made her laugh.

“What? What’s so funny, Miss Goode?” 

Your question made her laugh even harder. ‘You look as if you’re bouncing’

“Well, I’m not bouncing”

Next time Cordelia forced herself to open her eyes she actually recognized the place - you were going through that horrible garden.

‘It’s an awful place… How can anyone be so cruel to the plants?’

“I ask myself the same question”

‘It’s time to redecorate’ 

“To what?”

Cordelia waved her hand. She didn’t see anything, but she could feel her powers flowing around. And your reaction was the confirmation she needed.

“Wow…” she heard your gasp

‘How does it look?’

“It looks great. Someone should have done that long time ago”

‘I guess, I’m the first Supreme that visited... ‘

“Apparently”

“What the hell is going on with the two of you?” Elliot asked as he stopped

“Nothing” you answered quickly “I’ll take her upstairs. Wait here, I’ll be right back”

For a moment Cordelia felt like falling down, but instead of hitting the ground she found herself in a familiar embrace. You were holding her yet again.

“Alright, Miss Supreme, let’s get you to bed, shall we?”

‘You can do to me whatever you please’

“Is there any chance you could actually cooperate and help me with that? Like… I don’t know teleport us or something?”

‘Pff… Of course I can… I am the fucking Supreme’ 

Cordelia tried to stand on her own, but stumbled and almost fell down.

“Easy, ma’am. I was just playing… I can carry you upstairs”

‘No no no. I’m the-’

“The Supreme. Yes yes, I heard that already” 

Cordelia could feel your hold tightening and soon she heard the click of the door. She opened her eyes and saw her room. You were moving towards the bed, but she remembered something and stopped.

“What?! What’s the problem now?”

‘I can’t sleep in my clothes on…’ Cordelia looked at you and smiled. She didn’t know what was so funny, but laughed anyway. ‘undress me’

“I will not”

‘C’mon… Be a dear and undress old little lady’

“I swear… The should pay me more” 

Cordelia giggled as you began unzipping her dress. She shivered when your cold hands touched her skin.

‘Your hands are cold as ice… Are you cold baby girl?’

“Sorry. Was not expecting that I’ll have to undress someone tonight”

‘Oh… If getting laid is a problem I can help with solving it’

“Woah, Miss Supreme-”

‘You could stay here. With me’ Cordelia smirked wrapping her legs around your waist

“How much did you have? How much did you drink?”

‘Not much… Two bottles. Maybe four’

“At least, now, you know your limit” you said freeing yourself from her hold “You need some sleep”

‘No’

“Yes” you gently pushed her onto the bed “Goodnight Miss Supreme” was the last thing Cordelia’s mind registered.

Tag list: @midnight-lestrange​, @natasha-danvers​, @stopkillinglilyrabe​

[ad1thi]

@starklysteve  rhae asked for some winteriron recs (read: i volunteered to spam rhae w buckytony fics because i adore them), so in no particular order, and based on my memory alone, here are some of my favourite buckytony fics!!

(please remember to leave kudos and comments!!)

American Memorial: @/spqr

“Pick up the shield,” Tony said. Understandably, Bucky told him to go fuck himself

Losing You (Is My Supervillain Origin Story):  @amethystinawrites

There are a lot of things that Bucky regrets. The list is, quite frankly, longer than he can handle on most days and, right at the very top, is lying to Tony about who killed his parents. Bucky has known even from before they started dating, but he simply can't bring himself to say anything — to ruin one of the few good things he has in his life. It's selfish and wrong, but Bucky just doesn't know how to tell Tony that he is the one responsible for Howard and Maria Stark's deaths.

So when he starts receiving anonymous emails, threatening to expose the truth to Tony and the rest of the world, Bucky is desperate enough to agree to the blackmailer's terms, even if it means breaking up with Tony. Bucky cannot, under any circumstances, let Tony find out about his parents from anyone but Bucky himself.

Too late Bucky realizes that there is much more to the blackmailer's scheme than just having Bucky break Tony's heart. Too late Bucky realizes that despite his best intentions, he will still end up losing everything — in a much more permanent way than he could ever have imagined.

Hindsight: @amethystinawrites

Ever since he was a little boy, Bucky has dreamed of becoming an astronaut together with Steve, and he can hardly believe their luck when both of them are picked for the Ares 3 crew — the third expedition sent to explore Mars. It is, quite literally, a dream come true.

Things get complicated when Bucky finds himself inconveniently attracted to their mechanical engineer, however. Tony Stark is funny, competent, and absolutely captivating, but considering NASA's strict non-fraternization policy, Bucky knows it's better to keep his interest to himself — at least until they return to Earth. He can wait.

Not once does Bucky consider the possibility that all of them might not make it back alive, or just how much he'll come to regret not acting when he had the chance.

Arsenal: @tangodancer91 (part of a series) (also my all time favourite buckytony series ever)

Two years after the Civil War that tore apart everything she’d bled to build, Toni Stark sacrificed herself for her newly-reinstated teammates and ended up stranded in the past. Freed of her name, her fortune, and her hostile ex-teammates, she built herself a life as an agent for the OSS, the American secret service, and, having nothing to lose, accepted a mission to infiltrate the newest player in the war: an organization that call themselves HYDRA.

Then, she met a young draftee with a dreadfully familiar face, and they clicked like she had never clicked with anyone before. By the time she realized she’d fallen for the man who’d cost her everything, it was too late, but she’d always been an all or nothing type of girl, and if she was damning herself, well then…might as well go all the way.

Yield: @aurumacadicus (this is an a/b/o verse fic)

All Bucky has ever wanted was to win the contest for Tony's hand in marriage. It's a bit harder now that he's down to one arm, but luckily his friends are willing to help make up the difference.

Barnes Family Motors Inc: @phlintandsteel-ao3 (this is an a/b/o verse fic)

In a world where alphas legally own omegas, Bucky is just a small time mechanic from Brooklyn who gets lucky in a poker game. Tony is an omega whose life is fraught with abuse, until his luck suddenly takes a turn for the better.

In the grand scheme of things they may only be able to make little differences in the lives of those around them, but that doesn't mean it's not worth making them. After all, a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.

The Long Con (don’t kid yourself): @phlintandsteel-ao3

When Tony finds out that Howard is thinking about changing the terms of Tony’s trust fund, he embarks on a not-so-elaborate scheme to prove that he’s totally settling down and not in continued need of Howard’s “guidance” until 25 instead of 21. Step 1: Get a fiance Step 2: ??? Step 3: Profit (Finally be free of Howard)

Unfortunately, Tony Stark is the worst con-artist ever, and may only be kidding himself..

Hot Mess:  @/niki

“Would serve him right if we had the world's most ill-advised one night stand.”

Imperceptions and Assumptions: @/NarutoRox

Afterward, Bucky would look back on their first meeting with fondness and a healthy dose of amusement. At the time, though, he’d mostly been confused - and more than a little embarrassed.

Bucky hadn’t paid much attention to the media in his early days, and hadn’t bothered really reading up on the team or anything, either, so when Steve had said ‘Tony Stark’, Bucky had just assumed.

The same way he’d looked at the three people who’d walked through the door - an imposing redhead in heels, a bored-looking brunette who dimpled when she saw him and Steve, and a sturdy-looking man wearing a slight glower - locked eyes on the man, and assumed him to be the infamous Tony Stark Steve wouldn’t shut up about.

It was Bucky’s first lesson when it came to Natasha Antonia ‘Toni’ Stark - never assume.

~

In which Tony Stark is actually Natasha Antonia 'Toni' Stark (which everyone knows) as well as Iron Man (which everyone does not know), assumptions are made, and there are misunderstandings.

From this prompt: How about a cross between my two favorite tropes? Nobody knows who iron man is other than Natasha/Antonia Stark's bodyguard but Bucky is in love with one or both of them

i know, you know (that i’m not telling the truth) : @imposter-human

psychic tony stark is called to work a routine case with detective bucky barnes; only, he seems to be more connected to the case than anyone thought

or, a psych au!!

the new romeo and juliet: @imposter-human

Bucky and Tony weren’t dating, because a firefighter and a detective couldn’t date (never mind that Tony hadn’t slept with anyone else since their thing had started, and he and Bucky hung out with an alarming frequency, and the whole precinct thought that they were an item). It didn't matter how many nights they spent together, how Bucky had a drawer of Tony's things and vice versa, they just couldn't.

It was a classic Romeo and Juliet situation, if Romeo and Juliet actively disliked each other on top of everything.

if found, please return to: @capnshellhead

Tony Stark shows up at Bucky's bar after a really tough break up and Bucky decides to look after him

gods of carnage:  @deathsweetqueen (part of a series)

On May 29, 1970, the Winter Soldier feels a burning sensation and looks down at his wrist to find a single name written in enduring ink: Antonia Margaret Stark.

HYDRA, fearing the defiance of their greatest asset due to a bond that cannot and will not be denied its due, immediately dispatches the Soldier, to locate, collect and deliver this newborn girl to HYDRA, which will become her new home, her new family and her entire world - to be raised as another one of HYDRA’s great warriors: their Engineer.

But the Engineer is a faulty asset. She thinks things that may get her killed one day. She wants things that she shouldn’t, that are not hers to want. She has a mind and body that belong more to herself than any handler, than any commander she may have.

And if she cuts her strings, when she cuts her strings, well, when you put sheep next to wolves, you ask for a bloodbath.

where i walk, you follow (where i burn, you burn):  @deathsweetqueen

At his father's command, Anthony Stark trades in his northern keep for a southern crown, wedded and bedded by Alexander of House Pierce, First of His Name.

Tony does his duty, becomes a wolf in name only, toothless and clawless, and a dark, gleaming ornament for the King, even if he would make himself a widower a hundred times over.

Honour demanded it of him, and so he did.

But it is Ser James Barnes, named the Kingslayer for his sins during the Rebellion, that draws his eye, gives him comfort in this pit of liars and monsters

So, what is honour compared to a good man's love? They are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love.

[Fic by deathsweetqueen, Art by MassiveSpaceWren]

Cat Parenting (And Other Meet Cutes):  @singingwithoutwords (this is an a/b/o verse fic)

Of all the ways Bucky could have finally gotten a chance to speak to his crush, why did it have to be his cat getting Tony's cat pregnant?

Codename Heartbreaker:  @rinnwrites (part of a series)

Today was a day that, contrary to popular belief, Tony Stark had most certainly not been looking forward to. It was election day, or election night, rather, and the polls were closed, the results were in; Howard Stark was the next President of the United States of America.

or

Tony Stark Bingo - R3: Election Day

Fate Strings Not Required: @akira-of-the-twilight

“Hey doll,” a new voice said from Tony’s side.

Tony glanced at the person approaching.

Someone was working the rugged, bad boy look. The new guy rocked a leather jacket and blue jeans.

His blue eyes lit up with joy as he approached Tony. “Something wrong here?” The new guy gave the first guy--the one insisting he was Tony's soul mate--a once over then turned his full attention on Tony. “You’re looking a little stressed, anything I can do?”

Tony took the hint.

Tony wrapped his hand around the new guy’s elbow. He kept his touch light and breakable in case he’d misread the cue.

“Just some guy claiming to be my soul mate, babe.”

The new guy’s eyebrows rose to his hairline in surprise. He chuckled and gave the first guy a smirk. “Strange. Last time I checked we were soul mates.”

Siren’s Treasure: @akira-of-the-twilight

Prompt: I really love the idea of playboy!Bucky flirt of the seven seas first-mate to Captain Rogers, falling completely overboard in love with our Blacksmith-Inventor Inexperienced!Tony who goes from confident captive to shy woe-begone man in the presence of Bucky's fierce affections. Virgin!Tony wonders what a siren like Bucky could possibly want with him. Bucky wants to know what the fuck Logan thinks he's doing flirting with the man who stole his heart like sunken treasures. Happy ending please?

“Sirens killed your crew?” Steve repeated.

The dark haired man nodded. Just an hour ago the Avenger crew had found the man clinging to driftwood in the middle of the ocean. Now he clutched the flask of rum Bucky had given him like it was all that kept him buoyant during these tumultuous times.

The man—Tony—had already downed more than half the flask and was still sober. “Not exactly my crew, but close enough. Yeah.” Tony uncapped the flask and threw back a mouthful.

Steve frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

Tony shrugged. “I wasn’t captain of the ship.”

“So what were you?” Steve pressed.

Road hazards: @riotwritesthings

Steve and Bucky's BFF road trip is not going well. For starters, Steve couldn't even make it, and for some bizarre reason asked Tony to take his place. The fact that it’s only a couple days before someone is trying to kill them isn’t nearly as stressful as the fact that Bucky and Tony have never really had an actual conversation.

It’s hard to avoid someone when stuck in a car with them though, and if they manage to stay alive they just might learn a thing or two.

Once Upon a Wintertime: @iam93percentstardust (this is an a/b/o verse fic)

Look, Bucky knows that he’s fulfilling every cliché in the book right now. He knows that, as a bodyguard, he’s not supposed to fall in love with his client. But Tony’s good and sweet and so, so lonely and how could Bucky not? He thinks he’s got a shot after Tony breaks up with his boyfriend but on a trip across the country, he finds out that Tony needs a bondmate or the board will steal SI—and Ty’s already said yes.

little bird: @thxngam

Bucky laughs, and it’s loud and unbidden, a way he hadn’t laughed for years before, tugging his giggling omega into his lap. Tony quiets and nestles into Bucky’s chest like he was made to belong there, and Bucky has noticed several times that Tony is much smaller than he is, but he never quite noticed how Tony always seemed to curl into him as a reason for his size.

Tony nestles like a little bird.

Teenage Dream:  @anthonyed

Tony Stark develops a crush on the school's bad boy who is too cool to hang out with anyone. At least, it's what Tony thinks. He never considered that James Barnes is probably as lonely as he is.

(in the process of editing)

The Best Laid Plans (of Mice and Men):  @arboreal-elm-ash-oak

His Dark Materials AU

It was Annalise who noticed their small visitor first.

“Tony,” the spider daemon said softly, skittering up the collar of his dress shirt, two of her eight legs resting delicately against his cheek, “Don’t startle them, but I believe we have a guest. Look, by the coffee table.”

A Kitten and a Soldier: @/ThatDamnKennedyKid

Bucky hadn't heard from Rumlow in years - since the whole Winter Soldier fiasco in Siberia. They've been discharged for nearly six years, but when he gets a message that only says "I need your help" , he grabs his jacket and keys.

The Prince’s Bride: @hddnone

After Tony loses the love of his life to pirates on the high sea, not much matters to him. He agrees to wed Prince Justin Hammer to gain access to vibranium and shut himself away in his workshop until the end of time, but a group of ruffians kidnap Tony to take him to Hydra.

Tony's rescue takes on an unlikely form - the Dread Pirate Rogers, who killed the love of his life five years ago.

A Princess Bride AU

A Kind of Destiny: @weethreequarter

A chance meeting at a wedding brings together an American war veteran and the Prince of Wales. Little do they know, the wheels have been set in motion for a relationship which will change not only their lives, but the monarchy itself. Bucky and Tony strike up a friendship at Steve and Peggy’s wedding, a friendship that soon develops into more. But it’s not so simple: Tony is the Prince of Wales, and heir to the throne of Great Britain and the United Kingdom. Any relationship is played out in the press and public eye, and then there's that pesky issue of succession to consider too. But Bucky is no coward, and when he finds something he wants, he’s prepared to fight for it. And fight he will, at Tony's side, for their very own fairy tale ending.

[draven-imani]

Journal 6

Today was another long day. Another very long day. I don’t even know how to begin to express how much happened today.

We broke fate.

We did what we came to the Grey Garrison to do and according to a higher being we weren’t actually meant to have done that but we did anyways and it changed everything. It changed an entire timeline. We did that. I’m still processing that.

Let me start from the top.

We made for Old Kenabres first thing in the morning. We were given a number of supplies from Arashniaval for our strike force, while Horgus was using his own funds to supply the main troops. The Silver Legion and the units Commander Tirabade had been able to muster rode ahead and drew away the brunt of the demonic forces, leaving the Grey Garrison mostly unguarded. The Commander did not join the forces drawing distraction, however. She would be fighting alongside us to reclaim the shard of the Wardstone from Deskari’s hands. And she was not the only one. This morning the envoy the Commander sent down to speak with the First Descendants returned as well. And they came alongside forces from below ground lead by Lann, ready to join the fight against the demon scourge. Lann and a number of his rangers joined our strike team. Each of us paired up with a ranger, with the group deciding I should team up with Lann since I was the captain of this mission. I had no arguments there. Lann proved to be a very capable marksman. Even without cold iron arrows he managed to do some damage to some of the demons we faced, which is more than I could say for most people.

If we ever have a moment when we aren’t fighting for our lives for once, I wouldn’t mind having a chance to chat with him outside of life-threatening situations. Lann seems like a good guy. But apparently my life is going to be getting really busy really soon, so that’s probably not in the cards.

As we approached the grey garrison, we saw two sentries. We identified the twisted reanimated mockeries as vermleks, parasitic demons who puppeteer corpses of the dead. The victims in question were High Commander Hulrun, and the head of Nyserian Manor ironically enough. It would seem Lord Nyserian met with a terrible fate when he presented Commander Tirabade’s sword to the demons, in a bid to try to get safe passage and a position of power. We found proof later that this was their punishment for him not giving it to them sooner. Serves a coward and a traitor right, for the innocent blood on his hands.

My feelings about Hulrun are more complicated. He was a powerful crusader. He should have been able to stand up against the demons as a symbol of strength against the tide of evil. Instead he was felled and turned into a mockery. So I found what they did despicable and I wanted to put him to rest. But I also never found him to be the height of what we could stand for. He was no Irabeth Tirabade. At one time he was a paranoid man who brought out the worst in our people for many years. He led the witch hunts, which may have been a little before my time, but the effects of which still echo down. I…deeply fear what would happen if anyone found out about the mark I keep under wraps.

Whether he truly become better or simply had others who advised him to tone it down, I will likely never know now. And quite frankly it doesn’t matter, as he is dead and we have more pressing matters than the past to contend with.

Speaking of that accursed mark, it was bleeding a stream of blood worse than ever before, and burning like someone had taken a hot iron to it. I couldn’t help but flinch, and the others couldn’t help but notice the bandages that were already stained red before we had even entered battle. I…promised to explain later. And I suppose I will have to, if it’s going to cause so much blood that I cannot hide it around so many demons. I will have to find a new method. Perhaps a bracer of some kind…

Hiskaria asked ‘you too’ when I started rubbing at my arm initially, and showed me a mark on her back. It was not anything near the same as the festering mark on my wrist. She had some sort of large glowing spiral birthmark on her back. Although there was one thing in common I found: both appeared the day our families died. Hers was reacting here as well, which was apparently abnormal. Hers had something to do with the Riftwardens—which now that I think about it she’d kept buddying up to Arashniaval frequently, going to him to comfort him when he thought the Riftwardens died despite just meeting him, and he’d reacted to her in surprise when we’d first met her.

For now, however, we needed to focus on the mission as hand. There were two demon sentries. If we took them out fast, we might not alert the entire temple of our presence right away. Luna did her usual thing, going invisible and sneaking up on one, getting a good swing in on it, although not enough to destroy its host. Commander Tirabade charged in behind her, stabbing it, and Melody joined her.

Hiskaria and I focused on the other. Radiance was more insistent than ever that these demons be cleansed—the bodies of the faithful needed to be freed and put to rest properly.

These creatures took a beating and still remained standing, sending wave after wave of negative energy through us with mass inflict wounds. The Commander cut down the one who was possessing Hulrun—trying to be respectful of the dead, although once Luna got started insulting him for the witch hunts it was hard for any of us to not agree with her points that the man was kind of an ass. Still, the demon was dead and I’d at least follow Radiance’s request to lay his body to rest later, even he deserved that much.

The other demon devoured its host, but was then skewered through on Melody’s glaive, leaving the courtyard outside the temple silent.

Then Melody looked up. She told us in a hushed voice that she saw her goddess’ songbird. But also a twisted being who looked like a humanoid woman with a clawed locust’s arm. An oracle of Deskari. And probably a powerful one at that if her body was twisted in such a manner.

This would be no easy task. But we needed to get to the wardstone and destroy it, to keep it from being used as a weapon and turning our own symbol of protection against our unsuspecting men and women on the front lines. Whether it would be easy or not didn’t matter.

Luna slipped ahead of us, practically vanishing as she pulled her hood over her head and she seemed to become one with the shadows with her mastery of stealth. I focused on Iomedae’s blessings, using her mastery of the warrior’s ways to try to keep up with my swift footed companion.

A fight had already broken out by the time I arrived. Luna had snuck up behind a tiefling cultist and liberated his head from his shoulders. The rest had tried to swarm her, but she was not an easy woman to harm in such a way. Lann shot an arrow into the fray, catching the attention of one of the tieflings and drawing him out of the room to me, which I swiftly cut down. The rest were taken care of by Hiskaria’s arrows and Luna and Melody’s blades.

Now that we were inside of the temple, Radiance’s energy was feeling more insistent than usual. They told me that this was once a temple to Iomedae, and it should be cleansed and returned to its former glory. I got the sense that they meant immediately, not after we got rid of the demons. At first as I cleared the demons I argued with Radiance, telling the sword that I needed them to be patient—if we tried to cleanse the temple before we got rid of all the demons, the demons would just desecrate it again.

What made me change my mind was the room with the arms.

I am not going to describe the room with the arms. Just know that…the demons and their cultists made some very visceral and disgusting idols in mockery of our holy places.

I was ambushed by several cultists of Deskari in that room. Which was a veeeeeery good way to get some very recently acquired bad feelings out of my system. With some help from the others, we cleared out the three cultists who thought they would be adding me to their sick idol. Sick bastards.

Then Melody opened a door. And got a bomb right in the face.

Because alchemists suck like that.

Luna went in with her axe, but the man had a spell on that made hitting him difficult, he shifted around the attacks, our visuals on him were blurred and difficult to see correctly. Hiskaria got a bright idea, and cast magic missile on him.

I liked that idea, and produced a wand of magic missile we’d been given by Arashniaval, and did the same. Between the two of us and Luna, we beat away at the alchemist. He used a smoke bomb to try to hide from the missiles. Hiskaria got in closer, drew fire from him, and was able to give me enough of an idea of where he was that I could get up in his face and cast it once more. Which was all we needed.

From there we only had one way to go. Which was behind a locked door Luna was having difficulty opening. We decided to work together to smash through it. With Luna taking point, we threw everything we had into it, and finally managed to burst the door.

Straight into a room with a tiefling and three dretches.

It wasn’t actually that difficult. Luna ran past the dretches and took on the tiefling. Commander Tirabade and Melody took on the dretch nearest the door, which I used the Commander’s shield for cover to slip in and attack the one next to her, Radiance giving me a particularly spectacular moment killing the dretch in a single swing. The final dretch tried to flee, but Luna took a swing at it as it did, then ran after it and ended it before it could try to warn anyone on the second floor.

We were a little bruised, but not so much that we felt like we needed to sound the retreat yet.

Radiance was even more insistent, and I was feeling a bit twitchy after the aforementioned room as well. I requested some time to clear out the bottom floor before we continued on. The others agreed, as it would give them some time to check for anything of value on the bodies they may have missed.

So, I got to work. First clearing out the…aforementioned room. Doing burial rites for the desecrated bodies and for Hulrun while I was at it. Then I cleaned the prayer room. Which had an interesting engraving in celestial, although I cannot read the language. I recalled that Gabrielle could as an aasimar, although I didn’t want to make assumptions given how different Luna is—so I asked if anyone in our group could speak the language. As fortune would have it, Luna did speak celestial, and was willing to help, despite needing to kneel before the alter to see the engraving properly. She would not tell me what it said, instead, she went over to a glowing outline of a doorway we’d noticed in the other room, and spoke the words, “Let us inherit thine arms, Iomedae.” The doorway swung open. Inside was an amazing armory. Cold iron weapons of all kinds, an enchanted longsword, sturdy shields, and a gorgeous breastplate with Iomedae’s holy symbol emblazoned across it. I feel speed is what we needed more than heavy armor at the moment, or I would have gladly donned it.

I also may have hesitated because I think it looked like that sort of think Auriel would have liked. I feel like I remember him mentioning he intended to get something similar to this at some point. Or maybe that’s just me projecting. I don’t know.

Anyways.

After that was done we cleaned up the museum, in which we found an adamantine morningstar of all things. Would have been useful for that door earlier. We gave it to Luna. Adamantine with her strength will be useful I’m certain.

With everything cleaned up and Radiance a bit quieter, we decided to head up to the second floor.

The second floor was almost blood bath. I…kind of don’t remember a lot of the fight that happened here. It was a blur, and I went down a few times. A lot of times. They really had it out for me. For obvious reasons, I was the only Iomedaen in the room. And possibly because of the accursed mark on my arm, who knows? What I do know is, we got upstairs. Melody got besieged on all sides, and the moment one of the tiefling cultists died, we heard the voice of the oracle. And she summoned a swarm of locusts from the tiefling’s body, which attacked Melody on his death, badly injurying her with negative energy. I ended up running in and putting myself in between her and some of the other enemies with the intention of drawing some attention away from her. Which worked. Unfortunately it worked a little too well. I got swarmed by tieflings and Deskari cultists, and when Melody or Heskaria killed one the oracle would cause the locust swarms to pull the life from me. I went in and out of consciousness more than a few times here. I was lucky the Commander was here. She and Hiskaria kept me alive. Between Commander Tirabade’s lay on hand’s and Hiskaria’s wand of cure moderate wounds she’d picked up somewhere along the way. I definitely owed her one. I guess as her ‘acting captain’ I’m putting in a few good words for her for sure at this point.

When the swarm of enemies died down, we began looking around a bit more. We found a room with a bowl of water and—viscera—with zombies milling about. We took care of them with literally no issue. Radiance once again began insisting on immediately consecrating the room, and I once again told them that we needed to wait until we knew there was nothing nastier on this floor after what we’d just dealt with, if the oracle could reach out through her followers up here. Radiance didn’t like that answer, but conceded that it was my choice either way. Good. Maybe Luna was onto something with putting my foot down with them.

Melody was standing near a door looking a bit spooked, and as I approached she quietly told me something was on the other side talking in her mind. She described it, and I reasoned out that it was a Schir demon due to the sound of gnawing on metal she heard. We decided to let Luna go in first, as it was probably prepared but to my knowledge they couldn’t see those who were invisible. So she downed another potion and slipped inside, getting a good stab at him before he could react. Unfortunately, he proved a bit more damaging than expected, and we heard Luna calling for someone to help her out. I was planning to join her, since demon slaying is kind of my specialty. But then something else burst from the door behind me. A strange chimera creature. Not a demon, but an evil intelligent beast working with them. A peryton. The creature bared its fanged in something between a smile and a snarl as it greeted me, before lashing out, knocking me against the wall and dashing any hope of me going to Luna’s aid.

Fortunately, both Melody and Commander Tirabade were able to help Luna, while Hiskaria put some arrows into the creature attacking me. The Commander apparently killed the demon, then Luna charged out of the room and with a single swing of her axe beheaded the peryton.

The rest of the floor was so easily cleared out I legitimately don’t even remember what the creatures in the last room were. Some kind of insect or spider that caused darkness, but Luna was able to cast light due to her aasimar bloodline and dispel it. I blocked the doorway to protect Melody and let Hiskaria and Melody take shots at them until I was hurting too badly to continue that tactic, then stepped aside for Luna the clean up the rest.

After that was done, Luna began going through some papers that she had seen the cultists looking over before. I began clearing out the room the zombies had been in that Radiance had reacted to. And the others began checking the other rooms for anything that might be useful or important.

After I cleared and purified the water in the bowl it became immediately obvious that it was a scrying dish, as it activated on its own. It had two things to show me. First, was Leto and Commander Spriggans. They were in the middle of the demon hordes, separated from their unit. They were fighting valiantly, and they didn’t look worse for the wear at the moment. But with their positioning, I knew if I called the retreat now, they might get left behind. They might end up stuck behind enemy lines. Or worse, overwhelmed and killed.

Before I had time to process that, a second vision was granted. This one a bit closer to where we were. It was of the oracle, upstairs. She was panicking. Pacing, muttering to herself “fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck”, terrified of how quickly we were tearing through her forces, of how quickly we were making our way to her and undoing all her work. The angle of the scry then panned out, showing me the room outside, allowing me to see the fiendish minotaur guarding the door to her chambers. It gave me a good idea of what we were going to be facing when we went up there. It was a tiny room to be dealing with such a large creature, not much room to maneuver. Not much room to get Luna into a flanking position.

But more importantly, we’d been planning to call the retreat after this floor. Because we were all exhausted. We were low on magic. We were low on healing. We were hurting. But if we did that, we were going to put Leto and Commander Spriggans in danger.

I had to make a call. Retreat. Put the mission and the people in front of me first and risk Leto. Or push forward, risk everything so I could try to bring everyone back safe. Assuming I didn’t get everyone killed doing so.

I was paralyzed with indecision.

The others were talking about various things they’d found. A list of traitors here and elsewhere, which was useful. Some other things I honestly was too distracted at the time to really process. Then Luna started talking about how we ought to head out if we were going to call the retreat and get back to Defender’s heart, since we were getting tired. Melody and Hiskaria agreed.

I stopped them. I told them to wait. I explained I’d seen something in the scrying room, and I explained what I’d seen and why it was a problem for retreating. But also why not retreating was a problem.

Luna said she didn’t give a damn, and said on the count of three everyone raise their hand who voted to keep going. All three of them did.

I—was speechless. I am not so proud as to think they did not understand how much of a risk they were taking pushing forward. They knew how much they were risking, and what they were doing, to keep Leto safe. A man they’ve barely even met once, but who they knew was important to me.

I owe them. More than I can begin to repay. But I am going to start, as best I can.

After I finished cleansing the second floor, we made our plan for how to deal with the third. We knew that the oracle was not at her best. We also knew how the minotaur’s room was laid out. We decided to use this to our advantage. There wasn’t much room to maneuver—not even enough for us to bring our ranger companions along, we had them watch our backs and stay on the second floor—but there was just enough to possibly get Luna in behind him if we played our cards right.

Luna drank another invisibility potion, and crept ahead of us. We waited for half a minute, then followed, with Melody in the lead. The plan was for her to lure the beast forward, as she was the only one with a weapon that could reach as far as the minotaur’s. She would stand in the stairwell and taunt the beast until it charged her, then Luna would step behind it and attack the moment its back was no longer to the door.

The plan worked. It worked exactly like we’d planned. Except for one problem. I didn’t see it for myself, I was still in the stairwell. But I heard about it afterwards. When the beast began to lumber forward, Luna stepped in to attack. She landed a devastating blow, drawing her axe up from the bottom of its spine to its neck. The creature stopped, and swung around, and its own axe swung into Luna. The fiendish creature put a smite into the blow, and its full strength behind it. With a single swing, Luna crumpled. I didn’t see the attack, but I saw the end result. There was blood everywhere.

Commander Tirabade charged in, and ended the beast’s life in a single final stroke, Luna having nearly ended it with her single blow. This left the room clear for Hiskaria to run in and use her wand to heal Luna back to her feet, and Melody to finish getting her back up. By the time I reached her, she looked good as new, if not a little shaken or perhaps just displeased that her blow hadn’t killed the beast outright. There was blood splattered across everything.

I really owe Luna after all this is over, with how close that was.

Then Luna suggested we do that again for the next room. We went to argue. I wondered if maybe she’d taken some head trauma on top of the axe wound. But she pointed out that technically the plan worked fine—she’d just gotten unlucky with the minotaur’s axe. She was pretty sure the same wouldn’t happen a second time with this panicky oracle. And this time we’d all be right outside the door.

I hated to admit it, but the plan had worked pretty well. And getting Luna in the room and flanking the oracle would be the best way to ensure she went down quickly. So we all agreed. Luna drank another potion and vanished, then we opened the door.

The oracle laughed manically when she saw us, her eyes wild and desperate. She was a twisted disgusting thing, her form warped into some sort of half-elf/locust combination by Deskari’s magic. I wouldn’t have even recognized her as a fellow half-elf myself if Luna hadn’t said something earlier when one of us was describing her. I am glad that the taint that this mark on my arm has left on me has done no such thing, I much prefer my face and arm as they are thank you.

The oracle—whose name I felt no particular urge to memorize, my apologies, I think it would have galled her to know she wasn’t that important—warned us to stay back. She asked where Luna was, to which Melody claimed that she’d been killed by the minotaur. One look at the bloodied room seemed to be enough to convince her of the truth of that, as she laughed in our faces at our folly. She motioned, and two portals appeared. What appeared to be two babau demons appeared, with Leto and Commander Spriggans held hostage. She warned that she would have them killed if we didn’t retreat and let her finish her work.

I…admit to not thinking straight here. I froze. Obviously, I knew we couldn’t just throw down our arms, not when so many lives were at stake with the wardstone right there. But I also wasn’t about to throw my brother and commander to the wolves.

Thankfully, Melody was much more clear-sighted than I. She ran forward, and attacked one of the supposed demons. The illusion around them flickered and vanished, revealing the truth underneath. Two constructs, which had created the illusory demons—and the illusions of Leto and Commander Spriggans, who were not there at all.

I was incensed at the trickery. I realized then that the desecrated scrying chamber had very likely been to look for someone one of us cared about to use against us, and she had chosen Leto. This kind of construct could only be used with an illusion preprogrammed into it—which meant they knew what to put in ahead of time, and someone elsewhere had put it in and sent it over. The constructs had the holy symbol of Sivanah emblazoned on them, so it seemed someone within their church was responsible. According to Luna, it was Lady Salzala. I’m inclined to believe her. Apparently, the mummified locust with the book she stole the day we met was addressed to her as well, so a lot of things keep pointing back in her direction. Commander Tirabade said she left with a contingent of her men on ‘business’ after the attack, so it would appear she fled the scene.

Unfortunately, her name was not amongst the ones in the documents Luna found naming traitors, so we lack any further evidence, although the Commander is going to look into it further.

With the bluff called, we attacked. Luna appeared as she swung her axe at the twisted locust oracle. Both Luna and the oracle looked surprised for a moment, I didn’t catch what either said, but then the oracle used a spell to teleport across the room.

While Melody and I focused on her and Luna dealt with the constructs that had flanked her, Hiskaria had a different idea in mind. She swung around, avoiding the fight entirely, and pulled out the rod of cancellation we’d been given to destroy the Wardstone. We were here to do a job, and she was going to make sure it got done, one way or another.

The oracle cried out, but it was too late. Hiskaria pushed past whatever last defenses the final piece of the wardstone may have had, and it shattered in a blinding flash. Shards rained down around us like meteors in miniature. They ripped the oracle and her constructs to shreds, but miraculously the rest of us were untouched—whenever they came near us, they redirected, whooshing around as if we had our own little gravity field and then being thrown in another direction.

Then everything went white. Me, Luna, Melody, and Hiskaria found ourselves in this place alone, Commander Tirabade was nowhere to be seen. Radiance floated before us, pulsing with energy, their blade face down. They spoke, and as they did we began to see visions of what they spoke of. Visions of things past. Of how the Wardstone came to be. Of Commander Tirabade and Stauton Vhagn…apparently former friends, before his betrayal. Of the Stormlord’s first attack on the Wardstone, and then Stauton’s betrayal and escape from the city. And then the most recent attack on the stone, the one that shattered it and brought us together. The attack that killed Trendalor—we know for certain now that the city’s defender is dead, his body stolen away by demons. And then we saw various demons guarding the stone, each powerful entity growing bored with their post and handing it off to one below them, until finally it fell to the oracle, who paced the room fearfully, knowing what would happen to her should she fail at our hands.

Then we saw what was supposed to happen next. The fate that we avoided. The time that was meant to come to pass, but didn’t. Arelu Vorlesh stepped from a portal with a purple crystal in hand, and began corrupting the Wardstone. And she succeeded. Dark tendrils spread through the land, they infected the crusaders through their connection to the divine within the Wardstone, and it twisted and warped them all into half-fiend monstrosities under Deskari’s power. Deskari’s army grew into a force all that more unstoppable, bolstered by our own men whose lives and souls were ripped away all at once.

Then the vision shattered, and we saw what had happened when we shattered the Wardstone instead. A great wave of golden energy swept across the land, destroying countless demons in its wake. Not obliterating their forces, unfortunately—more will come crawling from the Worldwound in the days to come, but it’s still a mighty blow that should buy us some time to regroup after what they did to Kenabres. A nice bit of divine retribution for those who have died.

Radiance spoke to us again. Or, the Spirit of the Hall of Heroes. I couldn’t quite tell if this was the exact same being as the one who spoke to me through the blade. I do recall Radiance referring to themself as the Spirit of the Hall of Heroes before, so likely the same? Radiance is less of a mouthful and easier to write, though. Maybe just ‘The Spirit’ for now, to avoid confusion, because I still had a version of Radiance to use in what was to come as well.

The Spirit drew a glowing blade of light from what had appeared to be Radiance’s blade, and pointed it at us. They told us to show them that we were worthy of the power to defy fate itself. Then they took the form of a man wielding a polearm and the form of a crystalline phoenix formed before them. And flames erupted around us.

Hiskaria did what she does best and peppered him with arrows. I patched myself up with some quick healing and tried to come in for an attack, but their form shifted again, this time into a tiefling man with a large hexagonal shield and he blocked my blow. However since I was harrying them, Luna was about to come around behind him and get a blow of her own off with her axe. Their form shifted to a human woman with a similar axe in an attempt to block, but Luna’s attack managed to get through. Then the spirit’s form shattered. They reformed their crystalline body farther in the white void—now an elven woman with a bow, and began shooting off rapid deadly arrow shots at us that made Hiskaria’s already deadly aim look like a child’s shooting.

We went with the same tactic as before, with Hiskaria shooting from afar, Melody charging in with her glaive, myself healing and sweeping in to flank with Luna, and finally Luna dealing a crippling blow to the crystalline Spirit. The being’s form shattered, underneath was a second form, somewhat like an elven man in appearance, although still made of crystal, holding a staff with twisting gears, the only part of them not crystalline. They tapped the staff, and everything was tugged backwards, returned to how it had been when the fight had first begun. The Spirit sheathed their blade. They asked each of us in turn what we were fighting for, and in turn each of us gave our personal answer.

For me…the answer’s always been the same. I want to protect people. To defend those who are less powerful from the demons, be it with a shield or at the end of a blade.

The Spirit acknowledged us as worthy of the power that had fallen into our laps—and as such they were going to return us to that moment in time, and, as he put it, ‘allow you the power you were nearly denied’.

I found myself back in the moment when the Wardstone was exploding. Shards were flying everywhere. This time, however, a piece hit me, square in the chest. Unlike the oracle and her constructs, it didn’t tear me apart. Instead, an energy flowed through every part of my being, all at once. Through my body, my blood, and my very soul. The other three experienced the same.

We didn’t have time to talk about it, or to wonder at it. As the explosion died down, a portal opened before us. One we’d already seen once before, in a vision, mere moments ago. What felt like mere moments ago, in that white void. Out stepped Arelu Vorlesh, one of Deskari’s generals, in the flesh. She was holding that same purple crystal that she’d had in the vision. She commented on the fact that we’d destroyed the Wardstone that she’d intended to use—but that its power lived on within us, and she would just have to corrupt us instead. Then she activated the crystal. There was a terrible sensation, like something cold and oily trying to take hold of my soul. Commander Tirabade charged Vorlesh, but she cast a spell that began to suffocate her, and she went unconscious in moments. Apparently it was meant to hit all of us, but the Wardstone’s power had protected us. Unfortunately its power was not protecting us from the purple crystal’s power, and we were frozen to the spot. I…was certain we were done for.

Then a blue hand reached out through Vorlesh’s portal. A light from Radiance’s crystal streaked out through her and into that being’s hand. Something was cast, and Arelu Vorlesh was left badly injured, and we were freed. Vorlesh fled. We didn’t ever get a good look at the other being.

Radiance has been silent since.

I can’t say for certain. But I think Auriel saved us. Some piece of his soul. Some version of him. I don’t know. It’s the only explanation I have. That light was in Radiance because of Auriel’s soul, so if it went to that being, it had to have been. Somehow. I know that’s weirdly optimistic of me. I’m not the sort to cling to thinking people spontaneously come back from the dead, especially people whose souls shatter on death. But—I mean Auriel was literally the Chosen One. If anyone was going to come back, right?

Anyways, Radiance doesn’t talk to me anymore. Or can’t, more likely, just like the whole ‘can’t choose Irabeth over you’ thing. But they haven’t flayed my hands, either. I think the whole ‘breaking fate’ thing means I’m able to bend the rules on the whole chosen one thing. Or maybe having a little divine power from the wardstone’s what did it. Who knows. I’m glad. If I’m honest, I’ve gotten a little attached. As much as they’ve gotten on my nerves and the whole ‘flay you alive’ thing pissed me off, I’m actually kind of sad that I can’t hear them now. For one thing, it was the last little connection to Auriel we had. I have no idea if they can hear me or if they’re in some kind of hibernation now. I’ve still been talking to them a bit. Like a crazy person, yeah, yeah.

Anyways, it wasn’t over with Vorlesh leaving. She decided to leave a parting gift. A whole swarm of babau demons. Real ones, not a bunch of illusions over constructs. Babaus are quite a bit stronger than the dretches and vermleks we’d been fighting. Under any other circumstances, we’d have definitely been overwhelmed and killed by a swarm of eight of them.

Instead, they couldn’t even touch us. I mean it, there wasn’t a scratch on us when we left. We completely overpowered these demons that should have easily outclassed us. The wardstone’s powers completely suffused our every action, everything we did seemed to be at the most perfect it could be. I cannot begin to describe to you how it feels to completely annihilate demons that should be such fearsome foes without risking going into territory that may start sounding like It’s bordering blasphemy, so I think I’ll reel it back a bit.

Afterwards, we healed the Commander, and began making our way back to Defender’s Heart. On the way, Hiskaria told us that apparently the very supportive voice in her head was apparently her goddess, Cassandalee. I’d never heard of her before, but Melody had. She was apparently more of a Numerian goddess, one of love, redemption, artifice, and good. Strange that she hadn’t gotten bigger in the 300 years she’s been around if redemption’s in her portfolio since there’s been a big need for that all things considered, since Valoria didn’t pick that up from Sarenrae. But I suppose since her main followers are apparently androids maybe she wasn’t really able to spread much outside her home base, so to speak.

Then the others decided to start hounding me as we walked back. I thought it would be about my arm, considering that seemed like the most pressing thing to ask about. But no. Apparently Luna and Melody had gotten it into their heads that Leto and I are an item. Really! I tried vehemently to correct them, that they really had the wrong idea, that we grew up together and I think of him more like a brother, but for whatever reason they still seem really unconvinced. Maybe if I send them Leto’s way he can talk some sense into them. No. He’ll probably just get them more wound up and release them back on me for the laughs. I tried to get Hiskaria to try to talk some sense into them, but she said since Cassandalee is a goddess of love she felt like it was now her sworn duty to not get in the way of this kind of talk. So now I have a Shelynite and Hiskaria to deal with about this kind of thing. Great!

Anyways. With the demons destroyed by the shockwave, there was no reason to worry about Leto and Commander Spriggans’ safety anymore. I’ll tell Leto about these shenanigans some other day. Tonight, I’m too exhausted to even think about going down there and drinking. Sleep. Sleep sounds good.

[ibijau]

Jin Rusong Lives / On AO3

Nie Huaisang has a conversation with Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian about Lan Xichen

The very last thing that Nie Huaisang wanted in life was to deal with Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian. Already as individuals they could be difficult to handle, but as a unit they were simply unbearable. It wasn’t just their married bliss that was annoying (though Nie Huaisang, who’d had to give up on ever having that, certainly did find it annoying enough) but more so their tendency to support each other and bring out the worst in each other.

The best too, of course. Which, come to think of it, was even more annoying.

So Nie Huaisang did not want to go anywhere near those two, but he also knew from experience that they had no regard for boundaries and private property if they thought they were in the right. A servant was called to look after Jin Rusong while he continued drawing, and Nie Huaisang left with Nie Funyu.

“How upset do they look?” he asked his first disciple.

“Nie zongzhu, how should I know? One looked annoyed and the other was smiling, but they’re always like that.”

Nie Huaisang gritted his teeth. There were layers to Lan Wangji’s lack of expressions, and Wei Wuxian’s smiles could express anything from actual joy to murder intent. He prided himself in being able to decode at least some of that. After dealing with Jin Guangyao for so long, these two were easy to read.

“Go see if Zewu-Jun is awake,” he ordered Nie Funyu. “If he’s sleeping, let him sleep, I’ll deal with those two. If he’s awake, ask him if he wishes to see them. Make it clear he won’t have to if he doesn’t want to.”

“He’s their problem,” Nie Funyu objected. “Let them take him home and be done with it.”

“He’s my… guest,” Nie Huaisang said, unsure friend was the right word anymore, not after everything, not when Lan Xichen had called him Nie zongzhu as if they were strangers. “I’d be a poor host if I just handed him over to the first people who asked for it.”

Nie Funyu frowned, unhappy with that decision, but obeyed. Nie Huaisang went alone to the throne room, and asked for his new guests to be brought to him.

From the moment he stepped into the room, it was obvious that Lan Wangji was worried for his brother but trying to hide it. As for Wei Wuxian, who stood right next to his husband, his smile had sharp edges that Nie Huaisang did not like in the least. It was clear to him that these two were expecting the worst from him. Nie Huaisang could not exactly blame them, all things considered, but it still upset him.

“Huanguang-Jin, what a pleasure it is to have you here!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed as he went to sit on his throne. “And you brought your husband as well, how lovely! You know, normally I’d complain about guests dropping by unannounced, but I’m getting quite used to that lately.”

“Where is Zewu-Jun?” Lan Wangji inquired with a hint of impatience.

Nie Huaisang opened his fan. 

"Resting I hope, or else our doctor will be very cross and probably take it out on me. He was very tired when he arrived last night." 

"So you don't mind if we go check on him?" Wei Wuxian asked with a dangerous smile. 

"I've sent someone to warn him," Nie Huaisang replied, fanning himself with calculated indolence. "If he wishes to see you, he will. Otherwise, he won't. It's up to him."

There was the slightest hint of a frown on Lan Wangji’s face at that answer. Nie Huaisang interpreted it as worry, and felt annoyed. He had never, at any point in the past ten years, done anything to threaten Lan Xichen. And most of what had happened in that damn temple had been entirely out of his control. It certainly wasn’t Nie Huaisang who had let Lan Xichen go confront Jin Guangyao alone, thus allowing for him to be tricked and kidnapped. The only risk Nie Huaisang had taken that night had been to cut his own leg so his brother’s corpse wouldn’t be sealed away before having obtained his revenge… and even that had been mostly calculated, because at that point Wei Wuxian had proven that he could easily handle the situation anyway.

Nie Huaisang had never purposefully done anything to cause Lan Xichen pain.

But of course, he knew too well that another had claimed the same, and caused great harm nonetheless.

“We will see him,” Lan Wangji insisted.

Nie Huaisang shivered, and glanced toward the door, hoping that Nie Funyu would soon return and save him from this. Of course, he couldn’t be so lucky.

“Hanguang-Jun, I’ll be very frank with you,” Nie Huaisang said.

“That’d be a first,” Wei Wuxian noted.

Nie Huaisang glared at him, more annoyed that it could once have been said as a joke than by his former friend’s distrust.

“Listen, you’ll be cross. I know you’ll be cross!” he sighed, fanning himself faster, letting his voice rise as if in fear. It took little effort. Lan Wangji had always scared him a little since they were young. “You’re going to be so cross at me, but I have to say it anyway, because you’ll be more cross if I don’t say anything. Hanguang-Jun, I am not a very clever man, but even I can see that your brother is unwell. Very unwell! And I am very worried of course, because he’s my friend, even if I’m not his anymore. And you have to understand… well, this is the part that will make you cross,” Nie Huaisang explained with a nervous chuckle. “But Hanguang-Jun, seeing him this unwell, seeing that he left his home in such a hurry, seeing that you’ve come here in pursuit of him… of course you understand that this doesn’t look very good, right?”

Lan Wangji’s eyes narrowed, visibly so, and Wei Wuxian dropped his smile.

“Are you accusing us of something, Nie zongzhu?”

“Of course not!” Nie Huaisang squeaked, fanning himself so hard that his wrist was starting to hurt. “All I’m saying is that it is very odd, and I don’t want to act carelessly when I have no idea what has caused his current state of health.”

“You know what caused it,” Lan Wangji retorted.

Nie Huaisang’s fan stilled, hiding his face, giving him a chance to grimace. Maybe Nie Funyu had been right to say that Lan Xichen wasn’t his problem. At the same time, he could not sit there and watch someone he cared about be in worse health than he ought to have been, and just trust that the people who were looking after him were doing the right thing. 

Not after how things had turned out the last time he’d blindly trusted in people’s good will.

He didn’t think Lan Wangji would ever do anything to harm his brother, but he hadn’t thought that Jin Guangyao was capable of it either. 

Thankfully, before the conversation could get worse, they were joined by Lan Xichen himself.

When he entered the throne room, Lan Xichen had to be supported by Nie Funyu, who looked as if he were eating lemons at having to help that man for whom he held little respect. Nie Huaisang made a mental note to give his first disciple a few days off. Between having Wen Ning come so often and now Lan Xichen, he had really asked a lot of Nie Funyu lately.

“Brother!” Lan Wangji exclaimed, elegantly rushing to Lan Xichen’s side so he could be the one helping him instead.

The instant he was freed, Nie Funyu brushed his arms, as if feeling dirtied. Nie Huaisang glared at him for it, for which his first disciple shrugged and rolled his eyes.

“Is Brother unwell?” Lan Wangji asked.

“A little, yes,” Lan Xichen admitted, leaning harder against him than he had with Nie Funyu. “Nie zongzhu has been taking good care of me, and had his doctor check that nothing is wrong. I’m sorry I caused you worry, Wangji. But you should have told me about A-Song.”

Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian had the good taste of looking embarrassed over that, while Nie Huaisang nodded without even realising. Of course they should have told Lan Xichen. Wei Wuxian could be excused for not realising, he hadn’t been there for all this, but surely Lan Wangji ought to have known better.

“I feared the effects of the news,” Lan Wangji soberly said, his nearly toneless voice managing to convey that recent events rather proved he’d been right to be worried.

“And I wish I could have heard about it in a less abrupt manner,” Lan Xichen replied, not quite a reproach. “I understand your concerns, since I have made certain things difficult for you recently. Understand my concerns as well when people keep secrets from me.”

Lan Wangji flinched, his eyes darting toward Nie Huaisang who pretended not to notice and started fanning himself again.

“Brother knows now,” Lan Wangji said. “We can return home.”

Lan Xichen hesitated, and tried to catch Nie Huaisang’s eyes, in vain. The younger man was pretending to be fascinated by the movement of his fan.

“I actually would like to spend more time with Jin Rusong,” Lan Xichen carefully said. “If that causes no trouble.”

“Well, he can come home with us too,” Wei Wuxian suggested.

Nie Huaisang froze, the breath knocked out of him by that proposition. His grip on his fan tightened to the point he could feel the wood start cracking under his fingers. 

"Absolutely not," Lan Xichen said, his voice still gentle but with a firmness that Nie Huaisang hadn't heard since the temple. "As I've already told Nie zongzhu, I came here to see Jin Rusong, not to spirit him away. It is my understanding that his cousin is satisfied with his care, and I have not seen anything to make me think A-Song should be removed from the Unclean Realm." 

Again, Lan Xichen tried to meet Nie Huaisang's gaze, who pretended not to notice. 

"You just said you wanted to be around Jin Rusong," Wei Wuxian complained, clearly confused. He paused a moment, and frowned. "Zewu-Jun… are you trying to ask to stay in the Unclean Realm?" 

"If Nie zongzhu allows it." 

This time, Nie Huaisang could no longer avoid looking at Lan Xichen. He shivered at finding those golden eyes on him. Lan Xichen still looked too frail, too tired, but right then there was something of his old calm and determination back. 

"Of course I allow it," Nie Huaisang heard himself reply. Then, feeling the shocked gaze of the other men (shocked and furious in Nie Funyu's case), he quickly added, "It would make Jin Rusong so happy to have his uncle Lan here. And aside from that, Nie Zhilan would murder me if I kicked you out. You're her patient now, and I'm not quite stupid enough to cross her." 

Lan Xichen stared in obvious surprise for a moment before his expression shifted into a smile so warm and earnest that Nie Huaisang had to look away again. He just couldn't bear to see Lan Xichen smile at him this way again, after everything else. 

"Brother," Lan Wangji calmly objected. 

He said nothing more, but when Nie Huaisang glanced ahead, he saw the Twin Jades staring at each other, locked into one of those silent conversations they had sometimes, so different from his shouting matches with Nie Mingjue and yet very similar in nature, or so Lan Xichen had told him once. 

This argument ended with Lan Xichen smiling almost smugly as he still leaned against his brother who Nie Huaisang could have sworn was pouting, however slightly. 

"I will gladly take Nie zongzhu's invitation," Lan Xichen announced. "Thank you for allowing me this whim. I will do my best not to be a burden on Nie zongzhu." 

"Lan zongzhu, you could never be," Nie Huaisang replied. "Though I think we have made you stand long enough. Nie Zhilan will not be happy that you left your bed without her permission. Funyu, could you direct Lan zongzhu, Lan gongzi and Wei gongzi back to my room? Now that we know Lan zongzhu will be staying I will see to have a room prepared for him, but for now my room is still the best option for him to rest."

Although he did not object due to the presence of people he so clearly counted as enemies, Nie Funyu glared at his sect leader. Nie Huaisang had to hide a grimace behind his fan. There was a lecture about security and safety coming to him in the near future, and perhaps this one would be deserved. 

Still, Nie Funyu asked the others to follow him, which they did. Wei Wuxian lingered a moment at the back of the group, as if he might say something, but he quickly caught up with the rest when Nie Funyu called for him. Left alone at last, Nie Huaisang closed his fan and slumped on his throne, feeling drained in a way he hadn't been since that night at the temple. 

A full day of sabre practice would have been less exhausting than that. 

So Nie Huaisang, always too ready to indulge himself, took a moment to recuperate from this conversation. He was half certain he would end up regretting everything he'd said, but that was such a familiar feeling that he easily ignored it. Then, when he felt ready, he put on a smile and left to find the head of staff to let her know a guest room needed to be prepared for a long stay, another for just that night, and that they'd be having guests for dinner. 

Said dinner, when it arrived, was a less awful affair than Nie Huaisang would have expected. Certainly Lan Wangji was rather sullen the whole time, but Wei Wuxian made up for it by being aggressively friendly in a way that Nie Huaisang had missed. After a period of awkwardness, he found himself exchanging careful banter with the man who had once been his friend, almost as if things were back to what they had once been in Gusu. 

More importantly, Lan Xichen had gotten permission from Nie Zhilan to leave his bed and eat with them as long as he did not overexert himself. It warmed Nie Huaisang's heart to see the other man so radiant, Jin Rusong sitting on his knees. 

Lan Xichen hadn't stopped smiling once since the little boy had given him a painting, which he explained was a terrifying monster from a story read to him in class. Lan Xichen had received it as if it were the long lost work of a great master, and Jin Rusong had refused to be parted from his uncle Lan for even a second after that. 

And Nie Huaisang, who just some months earlier might have sworn he no longer had a heart, found it beating hard in his chest at seeing those two people so dear to him look this happy together. He could not even feel jealousy when Lan Xichen had to retire early, still unwell in spite of his improved mood, only for Jin Rusong to ask to sleep with him. There was just something right about the sight of Lan Xichen holding the little boy's hand as a servant led them to Lan Xichen's room. 

“You were right,” Wei Wuxian said, forcing Nie Huaisang to look away from the door and pay attention to the guests still in his company. 

“I usually am, but it always surprises people,” he retorted without heat. “About what, though?”

Wei Wuxian nodded toward the door where Lan Xichen and Jin Rusong had just disappeared. 

“You were right about him. Lan Zhan will need a while to admit it, so I’m saying it for both of us. You said that it would be good for Zewu-Jun to know that Jin Rusong was alive, and that he’d want to know and to be with him. You were right.”

"Hanguang-Jun was in seclusion for a lot of Jin Rusong's life, he could not have known," Nie Huaisang replied, biting back a remark that Lan Wangji had been freed from his punishment by the time the child died, and so should have witnessed his brother's grief. "And I know I am not the most trustworthy of people, especially on certain subjects." 

Wei Wuxian grinned, and poured him some wine. 

"Nie-xiong, you're not wrong, but I'm starting to think you might not be quite right either. Now come on, have a drink. A-Song can't denounce you to your doctor anymore, you can have some fun." 

Nie Huaisang snorted, and grabbed the bowl of wine. 

"Wei gongzi, you're still a bad influence, aren't you?" he mocked. 

He felt a little lighter when Wei Wuxian only cackled at that, the same way he used to do when they were young. 

He had missed having someone to laugh with. 

[anon-e-miss]

Oooh, how do you separate a crystal dryad from the tree they're bound (willing or not) too? Do you have to have a replacement tree ready, swap energy, etc? Is there a grace period between tree habitation if the original dies? What's the range? Is it anywhere on the planet if the tree is healthy, or within a city? How...how do you attach to a new tree?? Relevant questions if they have to dig up the tree and rescue it with Prowl! Yikes!

“What happened to yer brother?” Jazz asked.

The dryad did not answer, but vines disappeared back into the ground, and he sagged tiredly against the tree to which he was bound. Jazz took this as cooperation, and he circled the dead to tree to find the locks. He found a single, heavy padlock locking what proved to be just one long, thick chain in place. It had been welded to a pick that had been embedded in the rock that made up the faux waterfall. Jazz thought it was the sort of lock and chain you would use to keep a crate sealed during shipping, not the sort you would use to restrain a living mechanism, unless they were a combiner, or a truly unruly warbuild. He pulled out his picks and set to work. In less than a klik. Jazz had the lock open, and he tossed it aside. With a flick of his servo, the chain fell away. The dryad groaned softly as he was suddenly freed, his heels scraped against the tree as he slid down, only to stop when he was hanging by nothing by his bloodied wrist.

“Scrap,” Jazz curse. “Hang on.”

“I do not have any other choice,” the dryad replied, deadpanned. Jazz swallowed a chuckle.

“‘Spose not. Do ya think ya can stop yerself from fallin’ once I cut ya loose?”

“Maybe.”

“I don’t like that maybe.”

“I am tired.”

“Hang on to me,” Jazz said as he was once again face to face with the dryad. The creature’s pale optics had dulled, they had taken on a murky haze. There was no maybe about it. This mech was spent. Jazz crawled up higher, avoiding anymore than the most glancing of touch. He felt the dryad’s vents against his belly. “I won’t let ya fall.”

The dryad’s hesitation did not surprise him, and Jazz was relieved when the mech’s free arm wrapped around his waist. Jazz tug his peds into the flaking bark of the dead tree, preparing for the moment when the dryad’s full weight fell on  him. The chain around the dryad’s wrist was sticky with the mech’s energon. From the way he was hanging, Jazz thought his shoulder was at least partially dislocated. Hopefully, they could set it, Jazz did not fancy calling in a medic. Not every Praxian could be a dryad, or there would be none walking freely in town, Swindle would have botnapped them all. Still they were a rarity in Polihex. When Swindle discovered Lockdown did not have his prize, and when he discovered his real prize was gone, he would hunt down every sighting of  Praxian, in every corner of the city. Jazz could not let himself be linked to such a mech. Everything that mattered to him, everyone that mattered to him, was at stake.

“He welded it shut,” Jazz said as he examined the loop around the dryad’s wrist.

“Yes.”

“A’ight. I’ll have to cut it. Hang on tight ‘n for Primus’ sake don’t move.”

Jazz waited until the dryad obeyed before he took out his mini torch and a polishing cloth. Shielding the dryad’s plating with the tightly woven cloth, Jazz lit the torch and slowly ran the flame over the the loop. Time dragged on so slowly. The dryad’s vents were harsh against Jazz’s belly. Fear or pain or both, no doubt, but apart from the heavy venting, the dryad was silent.  Jazz magnetized one palm to the tree as the torch cut through the chain and the dryad was finally free.

“Ah,” the dryad made a cut off moan of  pain as his arm was so suddenly free.

Using his own mass to keep the dryad pinned for a moment, Jazz guided the dryad’s bad arm to rest against his own own shoulder and he slowly slunk. The dryad released his waist to hold on to his shoulder. Jazz curled himself in such away that he was cradling the dryad’s frame, and the slowly eased his way down the tree, and then the rock. When they were on the ground, Jazz the lay dryad flat and took stock of his wounds, and there were many of them. His wrist was the worst of it. The abrasion from the loop ran all the way around it, and it was only the freshest injury there. When Jazz cleaned the energon from the slowly bleeding wound, he saw scar after scar. It was clear the dryad had fought his bindings for some time. As he had feared the dryad’s arm was dislocated but it looked like a straight forward injury. Jazz had a bit too much experience with dislocations for his own taste.

“‘M gonna set yer shoulder, then we can get movin’,” Jazz said.

“Why does a thief know how to set dislocated shoulders?” The dryad asked.

“Medics are expensive,” Jazz replied. “Ya learn to doctor yerself whenever ya can in the Dead End. Comming a medic might mean not havin’ yer rent or your fuel later. Got one softspark that treats us poor fraggers for free but Ole Hatchet don’t live in Polihex full time. Some bots wait quartexes wit injuries rusting for ‘m to turn up. Sometimes they’re in the smelter long before he comes ‘n does the well.”

“The smelter?” The dryad asked. Jazz carefully arranged the injured mech’s arms, and braced himself with a ped against the dryad’s chassis.

“Count o’ three,” he said.”

“Just do it.”

The dryad took a sharp intake as Jazz popped his shoulder back into place. It was a surprise he did not scream. He had remarkable resilience, or glitched pain receptors. As the dryad lay limp, optics dim, intakes rough, Jazz wrapped nanite infused mesh around the dryad’s wounded risk and then tied his newly set arm up against his chassis. The dryad’s optics brightened when Jazz tied the bandage off. Hopefully his self-repairs were heal the internal damage. Wound a dryad have self repair systems?

“Think ya can stand?” Jazz asked. “We better get movin’.”

“I cannot leave,” the dryad said. He looked up at the tree. “I am bound.”

“How long can a dryad live wit a dead tree?” Jazz asked.

“Not long but a dead tree more often follows the death of a dryad than it serves as the cause of their death.”

“Did Swindle kill it to punish ya?”

“I killed it. I sapped every bit of life from this gaudy garden. You stole my seedling. I wanted to find him. I could not break free. I hoped with more power I might be able to break my bonds. I was so close but it was not quite enough.”

“‘M not sorry I took’m,” Jazz said. The dryad’s icy optics glared at him. “I seen what Vortex has done to bitlets. I couldn’t leave ‘m. But I shoulda waited. I shoulda talked to ya.”

“He cannot live without me,” the dryad said. “A seedling depends on their originator’s frame for more than just fuel. He needs me.”

“He’ll have ya,” Jazz promised, though how he was going to accomplish this, Jazz did not know. “How do we get ya outta here? I can’t carry a tree on my back.”

“My root crystal is set into that tree, just a half meter above where I was chained,” the dryad point to a sparkling red gem glittering against the brittle,  grey trunk. “He laughed when he set it there,  just centimetres from my grasp, my freedom just out of my reach.

“Swindle is a sack of slag,” Jazz declared. “Rest.”

He climbed back up the rock and the tree and came face to face with what the dryad had called his root. It was small, smaller than his servo. Jazz took out one of the smaller of his knives and slowly chipped away at the trunk around the crystal.

“Gotta tell ya, ‘m glad it was that easy,” Jazz said as he sat next to the dryad. “I was tryin’ to figure out how I’d steal a whole fraggin’ tree, Pit, where I’d put a fraggin’ tree.”

“To steal one of my betters, that would be what you would haven needed to do,” the dryad explained. “But you will not find their trees outside the Grove. They cannot wonder far from their roots.”

“Yer betters?” Jazz asked.

“My root is a epiphytic crystal, not a tree,” the dryad explained.

“What does that mean?”

“It means I am a parasite.”

[mytwilightimagines13]

Amnesia (Book Two)(Part Twelve)

The witnesses

Two things happened at once. Caius's eyes focused on Aro, and the tiny cruel smile came back. And Edward hissed, his hands balling up in fists so tight it looked like the bones in his knuckles would split through his diamond-hard skin. Carlisle glanced anxiously at Edward's face, and then his own face hardened. While Caius had blundered through useless accusations and injudicious attempts to trigger the fight, Aro must have been coming up with a more effective strategy. Aro ghosted across the snow to the far western end of the foe’s line, stopping about ten yards from Amun and Kebi. The nearby wolves bristled angrily but held their positions. “Ah, Amun, my southern neighbor!" Aro said warmly. "It has been so long since you've visited me." Amun was motionless with anxiety, Kebi a statue at his side. "Time means little; I never notice its passing," Amun said through unmoving lips. "So true," Aro agreed. "But maybe you had another reason to stay away?" Amun said nothing. "It can be terribly time-consuming to organize newcomers into a coven. I know that well! I'm grateful I have others to deal with the tedium.” Aro said and many took a quick glance at Maeryn before returning their attention back to Aro. Alec grabbed Maeryn’s hand and squeezed it lightly. Maeryn returned his gesture by stroking his hand with her thumb once. “I'm glad your new additions have fit in so well. I would have loved to have been introduced. I'm sure you were meaning to come to see me soon." Aro continued. "Of course," Amun said, his tone so emotionless that it was impossible to tell if there was any fear or sarcasm in his assent. "Oh well, we're all together now! Isn't it lovely?" Amun nodded, his face blank. "But the reason for your presence here is not as pleasant, unfortunately. Carlisle called on you to witness?" "Yes." "And what did you witness for him?" Amun spoke with the same cold lack of emotion. "I've observed the child in question. It was evident almost immediately that she was not an immortal child - " "Perhaps we should define our terminology," Aro interrupted, "now that there seem to be new classifications. By immortal child, you mean of course a human child who had been bitten and thus transformed into a vampire." "Yes, that's what I meant." "What else did you observe about the child?" "The same things that you surely saw in Edward's mind. That the child is his biologically. That she grows. That she learns." Maeryn still couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that Bella and Edward had intercourse when she was only human. Maeryn had to admit she was impressed by Edward’s ability to restrain himself. But she was also disgusted by it at the same time. She couldn’t ponder on the fact how he could bring his mate in so much danger. Not just by having intercourse, but also by impregnating her. Overall, she found it foolish. "Yes, yes," Aro said, a hint of impatience in his otherwise amiable tone. "But specifically in your few weeks here, what did you see?" Amun's brow furrowed. "That she grows... quickly." Aro smiled. "And do you believe that she should be allowed to live?" Hisses escaped multiple mouths on the foe’s side, once Aro’s words had been spoken out loud. Half the vampires in the foe’s line echoed in protest. The sound was a low sizzle of fury hanging in the air. Across the meadow, a few of the Volturi witnesses made the same noise, including Maeryn. Edward stepped back and wrapped a restraining hand around Bella’s wrist. Aro did not turn to the noise, but Amun glanced around uneasily. "I did not come to make judgments," he equivocated. Aro laughed lightly. "Just your opinion." Amun's chin lifted. "I see no danger in the child. She learns even more swiftly than she grows." Aro nodded, considering. After a moment, he turned away. "Aro?" Amun called. Aro whirled back. "Yes, friend?" "I gave my witness. I have no more business here. My mate and I would like to take our leave now." Aro smiled warmly. "Of course. I'm so glad we were able to chat for a bit. And I'm sure we'll see each other again soon." Amun's lips

were a tight line as he inclined his head once, acknowledging the barely concealed threat. He touched Kebi's arm, and then the two of them ran quickly to the southern edge of the meadow and disappeared into the trees. Maeryn was sure that they wouldn't stop running for a very long time. Smart move. Aro was gliding back along the length of our line to the east, his guards hovering tensely. He stopped when he was in front of Siobhan's massive form. "Hello, dear Siobhan. You are as lovely as ever." Siobhan inclined her head, waiting. "And you?" he asked. "Would you answer my questions the same way Amun has?" "I would," Siobhan said. "But I would perhaps add a little more. Renesmee understands the limitations. She's no danger to humans - she blends in better than we do. She poses no threat of exposure." "Can you think of none?" Aro asked soberly. Edward growled, a low ripping sound deep in his throat. Caius's cloudy crimson eyes brightened. Renata reached out protectively toward her master. And Garrett freed Kate to take a step forward, ignoring Kate's hand as she tried to caution him this time. Maeryn watched the scene closely, holding her hands out, ready to weaken Bella’s shield at any moment. Siobhan answered slowly, "I don't think I follow you." Aro drifted lightly back, casually, but toward the rest of his guard. Renata, Felix, and Demetri were closer than his shadow. "There is no broken law," Aro said in a placating voice, but everyone on both sides of the meadow could hear that a qualification was coming. Bella was becoming furious, and hurled the fury into her shield, thickening it, making sure everyone was protected. Maeryn smiled and used her gift slightly, giving Bella some resistance. Not enough to break the shield, but enough for her to lighten up Bella’s fury even further, and use more energy than originally asked for. "No broken law," Aro repeated. "However, does it follow then that there is no danger? No." He shook his head gently. "That is a separate issue." The only response was the tightening of already stretched nerves, and Maggie, at the fringes of their band of fighters, shaking her head with slow anger. Aro paced thoughtfully, looking as if he floated rather than touched the ground with his feet. Maeryn noticed every pass took him closer to the protection of his guard, and felt more relieved with every pass he took. "She is unique... utterly, impossibly unique. Such a waste it would be, to destroy something so lovely. Especially when we could learn so much .. ." He sighed, as if unwilling to go on. "But there is danger, danger that cannot simply be ignored." No one answered his assertion. It was dead silent as he continued in a monologue that sounded as if he spoke it for himself only. "How ironic it is that as the humans advance, as their faith in science grows and controls their world, the more free we are from discovery. Yet, as we become ever more uninhibited by their disbelief in the supernatural, they become strong enough in their technologies that, if they wished, they could actually pose a threat to us, even destroy some of us.” Aro said, his face looking troubled. "For thousands and thousands of years, our secrecy has been more a matter of convenience, of ease, than of actual safety. This last raw, angry century has given birth to weapons of such power that they endanger even immortals. Now our status as mere myth in truth protects us from these weak creatures we hunt. This amazing child" - he lifted his hand palm down as if to rest it on Renesmee, though he was forty yards from her now, almost within the Volturi formation again. "if we could but know her potential - know with absolute certainty that she could always remain shrouded within the obscurity that protects us. But we know nothing of what she will become! Her own parents are plagued by fears of her future. We cannot know what she will grow to be." He paused, looking first at the foe’s witnesses, and then, meaningfully, at his own. His voice gave a good imitation of sounding torn by his words. Still looking at his own

witnesses, he spoke again. "Only the known is safe. Only the known is tolerable. The unknown is... a vulnerability." Caius's smile widened viciously. "You're reaching, Aro," Carlisle said in a bleak voice. "Peace, friend." Aro smiled, his face as kind, his voice as gentle, as ever. "Let us not be hasty. Let us look at this from every side." "May I offer a side to be considered?" Garrett petitioned in a level tone, taking another step forward. "Nomad," Aro said, nodding in permission. Garrett's chin lifted. His eyes focused on the huddled mass at the end of the meadow, and he spoke directly to the Volturi witnesses. Maeryn raised an eyebrow, wondering what this nomad could possibly say to still put an end to this tension. A tension of a starting battle, waiting around the corner to blossom like a deadly flower. "I came here at Carlisle's request, as the others, to witness," he said. "That is certainly no longer necessary, with regard to the child. We all see what she is. I stayed to witness something else. You." He jabbed his finger toward the wary vampires. "Two of you I know - Makenna, Charles - and I can see that many of you others are also wanderers, roamers like myself. Answering to none. Think carefully on what I tell you now. 'These ancient ones did not come here for justice as they told you. We suspected as much, and now it has been proved. They came, misled, but with a valid excuse for their action. Witness now as they seek flimsy excuses to continue their true mission. Witness them struggle to find a justification for their true purpose - to destroy this family here." He gestured toward Carlisle and Tanya. "The Volturi come to erase what they perceive as the competition. Perhaps, like me, you look at this clan's golden eyes and marvel. They are difficult to understand, it's true. But the ancient ones look and see something besides their strange choice. They see power. I have witnessed the bonds within this family - I say family and not coven. These strange golden-eyed ones deny their very natures. But in return have they found something worth even more, perhaps, than mere gratification of desire? I've made a little study of them in my time here, and it seems to me that intrinsic to this intense family binding - that which makes them possible at all - is the peaceful character of this life of sacrifice. There is no aggression here like we all saw in the large southern clans that grew and diminished so quickly in their wild feuds. There is no thought for domination. And Aro knows this better than I do." Maeryn watched Aro's face as Garrett's words condemned him, waiting tensely for some response, a sign to end this nomad. Who does he think he is? Questioning her Master like that?! But Aro's face was only politely amused, as if waiting for a tantrum-throwing child to realize that no one was paying attention to his histrionics. "Carlisle assured us all, when he told us what was coming, that he did not call us here to fight. These witnesses" - Garrett pointed to Siobhan and Liam - "agreed to give evidence, to slow the Volturi advance with their presence so that Carlisle would get the chance to present his case. But some of us wondered" - his eyes flashed to Eleazars face - "if Carlisle having truth on his side would be enough to stop the so-called justice. Are the Volturi here to protect the safety of our secrecy, or to protect their own power? Did they come to destroy an illegal creation, or a way of life? Could they be satisfied when the danger turned out to be no more than a misunderstanding? Or would they push the issue without the excuse of justice? We have the answer to all these questions. We heard it in Aro's lying words - we have one with a gift of knowing such things for certain - and we see it now in Caius's eager smile. Their guard is just a mindless weapon, a tool in their masters' quest for domination.” Maeryn frowned at his words, but quickly shook them off. This Garrett is a liar, nothing more, nothing less. "So now there are more questions, questions that you must answer. Who rules you,

nomads? Do you answer to someone's will besides your own? Are you free to choose your path, or will the Volturi decide how you will live? I came to witness. I stay to fight. The Volturi care nothing for the death of the child. They seek the death of our free will." He turned, then, to face the ancients. "So come, I say! Let's hear no more lying rationalizations. Be honest in your intents as we will be honest in ours. We will defend our freedom. You will or will not attack it. Choose now, and let these witnesses see the true issue debated here." Once more he looked to the Volturi witnesses, his eyes probing each face. The power of his words was evident in their expressions. "You might consider joining us. If you think the Volturi will let you live to tell this tale, you are mistaken. We may all be destroyed" - he shrugged - "but then again, maybe not. Perhaps we are on more equal footing than they know. Perhaps the Volturi have finally met their match. I promise you this, though - if we fall, so do you." He ended his heated speech by stepping back to Kate's side and then sliding forward in a half-crouch, prepared for the onslaught.

[haberdashing]

No Puppet Strings Can Hold Me Down (17/17)

The Magnus Archives fanfic. An AU that diverges from canon between episodes 159 and 160, in which Peter Lukas’ statement that “he got you” takes on a different meaning.

on AO3

Jon hadn’t seen it coming.

In hindsight, it made sense that he wouldn’t have--if there had been any warning, any way of him knowing what was about to happen, then Jonah would have known of it as well, and the plan would thus have been ruined before it could even begin.

That didn’t make it any easier, though, when Jon woke up in the middle of the night to a sharp pain in his left eye.

It was difficult to see in the dark, and not just because, as Jon quickly realized, his field of vision wasn’t quite what it normally was, his sight on his left side now entirely gone. It took a few seconds for the darkness and silhouettes to coalesce into a clearer image, but once it did, Jon could feel his heart racing.

Martin was standing over him with a knife, a knife that was dripping blood onto the couch below.

The pieces fit together in Jon’s mind quickly enough after that.

Unfortunately, it seemed that the same was true for Jonah as Jon’s body began to move of its own accord, throwing off the blankets that had been on top of him and reaching up for Martin, trying to wrestle the knife away from him.

(Jon was glad, now, that he had was now in such poor physical shape. It would help Martin’s odds in the fight, after all.)

His nails scratched against flesh, his elbows jabbed and blocked Martin’s moves, the sting of his eye was matched by aches across his body, and Jon could do nothing but watch the fight unfold...

Wait.

That wasn’t entirely true, was it? Jon knew one thing he could do, at least, something that had incapacitated Jonah once before...

Jon had spent so long keeping the door in his mind shut, doing everything he could to prevent the Eye from seeping through.

It was all too easy to let it open wide.

(If Martin achieved his goal with the other eye, Jon figured he’d be freed soon enough, and his giving in to the Eye would become a non-issue. If Martin didn’t... well, Jon hadn’t been able to do much anyway, so how much would really be lost in the end?)

The information poured into Jon’s mind, a tidal wave of knowledge that overwhelmed his mind and his senses.

It has been eleven days since Georgie Barker last ate Hungarian food. Less than fifty people have contracted full-blown rabies and lived to tell the tale. The true identity of Dan Cooper, popularly but incorrectly known as D.B. Cooper, was a member of the Fairchild family. Michael Malloy had multiple murder attempts on his life fail in part because his heavy drinking prevented damage from methanol and ethylene glycol poisoning.

Jon felt a stabbing pain in his arm, looked to see that both Martin’s hands and his own were on the knife, struggling to gain control over its trajectory.

This is the fifth time that this couch has been stained by liquid damage and the third time that it has had blood on it. The bacteria that cause staph infections are commonly present on the skin, only causing infection upon entering the interior of the body. Mike Crew’s great-uncle, Jeremiah Crew, died in a flash flood. The singular form of the word data is datum.  

Jon could see the soft gleam of the metal as it approached his face.

Holding your breath before diving underwater can cause drowning by shallow water blackout. Manuela Dominguez is still trapped within Helen’s corridors. Clefairy, not Pikachu, was originally meant to be Pokemon’s mascot. Blind spots are caused by the lack of light-detecting cells in the area where the optic nerve passes through the optic disc. The Admiral is currently-

The rush of information suddenly stopped, and Jon’s senses rose up to fill the void of stimulation--all senses, that is, except for one. Jon’s vision was entirely gone now, leaving him with nothing but a field of darkness and burning pain where his eyes had been.

At least he could hear himself think now, even if it was difficult to keep up a coherent stream of thought when he was in such agony.

And, as Jon focused on his own breathing, which was fast and heavy now, he found that he could control it, slowly but surely calming his breathing down.

There was blood trickling down his face, but Jon didn’t dare try to wipe it away for fear of touching his fresh wounds and making the pain that much worse.

“...Martin?”

A rustle of movement behind him, a few footsteps, then: “Jon? Is that you?”

Jon let out a laugh, shaky and hysterical, not caring that it made his chest ache. “Yes, it’s me. You- you did it.”

Martin hesitated for a moment. “...can you prove it?”

“...probably not.” Another shaky laugh, not quite as boisterous as the first. “I didn’t- we’ve barely talked since I- since the Unknowing, and so much has changed since then. I don’t know if I was human before it, but now... well, now I might be human again, I suppose, but I’m not sure if that helps either. You haven’t known me when I was- was fully human, after all, have you, you’ve only ever known me as the Archivist, and now... now I’m not sure what I am, really...”

“Yeah, alright, good enough. Now just sit still, Jon, I’ve got some towels to help with the bleeding-”

“Wh- that didn’t prove anything! That was the whole point!”

“Nobody can pull off an existential crisis quite like you can, Jon. Especially not Jonah Magnus.” Jon could feel the warm air as Martin let out a soft snort. “Now just- here, does that help?”

Soft fabric was pressed against his face, and pressure pushing it down, pressure that made the pain go from bad to worse at first before it died down.

“It does, yes. Thank you, Martin.”

“Least I could do.” Another huff of warm air. “Seriously, when I- I’m the one who-”

“You don’t have to say it.”

“I’m so sorry, Jon. I didn’t want to hurt you, especially since you couldn’t do anything about it, but it- it seemed like the only way out-”

“You don’t need to apologize.” Jon started to shake his head, stopped with a wince when it made the pain flare up again.

“I said stay still.”

“I get that now...” Jon sighed softly. “But I- I did tell you it was okay, before, when I could. Whatever the price for taking down Jonah Magnus, I knew it’d be worth it. You have nothing to apologize for.”

“Still, I...” A pause. “...you can’t see my gesturing, can you?”

“Not even slightly. Which is, I believe, rather the point?”

“Right, yeah. I have some supplies, but we should- I know hospitals are probably a no-go at the moment, but you need medical help, and I know this woman in the village who’s a nurse, she can help you better than I can.”

Jon suddenly knew, then--lower-case knew, but with no less certainty--that Martin had befriended the village’s nurse with a scenario like this one, or perhaps even worse ones, in mind. He’d planned ahead, made sure he wouldn’t risk the worst happening, even after having to take drastic measures to free Jon from his imprisonment.

God, Jon loved him.

“Sounds like a plan.” Jon hesitated. “...I just hope the worst is over now.”

“I mean, isn’t it? It’s over now, it’s ended, right?”

“Even if we got rid of Jonah Magnus for good, which I’m not sure of-”

“His bloody eyes are on the ground, there’s not much more proof you can get than that-”

“There’s more out there. Daisy, the other hunters, the mess back at the Institute... not all of it can end here.”

“...maybe you’re right. Maybe this isn’t the end. But you know what?” Martin squeezed Jon’s arm, gently, and Jon noticed that Martin’s hand was warmer than it had been for some time now. “It doesn’t have to be. We can turn it into a new beginning, the start of a better life than the one we had back in London.”

“Not a high bar, that one.”

“Agreed.” Martin let out a low whistle. “Can you stand up? I’d really rather not just carry you all the way to the car-”

“What, you don’t fancy a bridal carry? Carrying me over the threshold?” Jon’s voice was teasing, but he felt Martin sway slightly, and he wished he could see the look on Martin’s face.

“I mean, I can do it if I have to, I suppose, but-”

“No, no, let me at least try.” Jon moved one arm to keep his towels pressed against his eye sockets, brushing against Martin’s arm in the process, and used the other to push himself off of the couch. It was slow and shaky and probably not a pretty sight, but he got up and stayed up, and that was what mattered.

“Alright, now, the front door isn’t too far, just over there-”

“Still can’t see your gesturing.”

“Right. Of course. It’s, it’s on your right, after you cross the room--do you think you can make it to the car alright?”

Despite the pain that still plagued him, Jon broke out into a wide smile. “Only if you lead the way.”

Martin took Jon’s hand, and side by side, the two made their way forward.

[oikawas-fav-alien]

Comfort | Goshiki Tsutomu x Reader

Summary: If there was one word to describe the Shiratorizawa Volleyball club for the past few years, it would be: victorious. Just the reputation of your school was enough to warrant fear and intimidation to other clubs within the prefecture. And within just a few hours - it all came crashing down.

warnings: none, rated K+ :)

✧ Masterlist  ✧

Both you and Tsutomu were extremely proud kids, just the way you went about it was completely different. He flourished in the face of praise and absolutely need attention or he would begin to doubt himself. You seemed like the complete foil to him, since you liked silent approval. You did not need to be outwardly marveled too often, but craved the occasional appreciation. You possessed skills that were not as exceptional as Ushijima, but pride that outwardly swelled more than Kenjirō. You were a good mix of the two, with the occasional teasing that came from being friends with Tender Salami.

The day the men’s team lost was a turning point for the first-years, with you leading the charge. You trained more than before, eager for a rematch with Niiyama Girls' High and ready to prove yourselves worthy to stand on the national scene. You were still the only regular first-year on the women’s team, it only a matter of time until the rest of your year would be promoted.

Tsutomu, if possible, was motivated more than before to train. He was willing to accept his faults – more than willing in reality. That boy needed a severed boost of self-esteem, god damnit! Tsutomu was going to be the main ace and obviously had the skills to prove it, but he needed to be more assertive.

“If you keep practicing serves like that, your arm will fall off.” You commented, your duffel bag hanging loosely off your shoulder. You were already changed and ready to leave, staying only to checkup on the coconut-head.

“(F/N),” Goshiki noted with a smile, “The ace must be able to train the hardest!” He exclaimed with his trademark thumbs-up.

He was a pure cinnamon roll, there was no denying it. Goshiki was the ball of sunshine that everyone needed in their lives, just to remind them of how they were before they were tainted by the cruelness of this world. But even your personal ray of happiness was hiding doubt and fear, he just refused to show others his pain.

On more than one occasion, Goshiki and you would be casually talking or hanging-out and he would look off distantly. He was there physically, but his mind was obviously elsewhere. This was not usual behavior for your close friend and you wanted him to reach out to you, but he simply would not. Maybe it was because you were a female or not as close to him as his other friends? But you desperately wanted your friend to revert back to his usual self. And because of this, you took every initiative to talk to him.

“The ace must also avoid injury, since the team relies on him the most.” You responded, dropping your duffle to the floor and moving to help gather the volleyballs. He huffed and conceded, joining you in clearing the small area that he was training in. You both cleaned in silence, one that was not usual between the two of you.

He broke off to go into the male changing room and you waited outside the building for him. You were perusing through your various social media apps on your phone, when of course, who other than your favorite Salami to walk outside and greet you?

“Wow, (F/N)-chan. Waiting just for me?” Tendou nudged you gently with his elbow as he spoke. “I’m flattered, but it’s not safe for you to be out alone so late.”

“No, I’m waiting for Tsutomu.” You responded back, waiting for the tree to incite more gossip for your relationship with the other first year.

But it never came. “That’s strange. I didn’t see him in there.”

“What?” You paused, checking your phone to see no missed calls or texts for the suddenly missing boy. “Do you mind checking again? I’ll go in the gym to see if he’s there.”

He nodded in agreement as you made your way back. And lo and behold, Goshiki was in the far corner near the entrance to the men’s locker room. He was uncharacteristically quiet, showing he did not notice your appearance back in the gym. With his knees pulled to his chest, he looked downcast with his arms folded.

You took a seat on the floor right next to him, jolting him out of his train of thought.

“(F/N)-chan! I’m sorry that I kept you waiting! Let’s get going.” He moved to get-up, but you held onto his elbow to keep him seated on the floor.

“What were you thinking about?”

“It doesn’t matter.” He looked away sheepishly, smile gone and replaced with a face or worry.

“Please talk to me, Tsutomu-kun.”

He blushed at the added prefix, but kept quiet. You could see the gears slowly moving in his head. It was easy to think things, but hard to actually convey such feelings through words to another person. You let him take his time and held his hand while he continued thinking.

“The next season scares me.” You looked directly at him, but he kept his gaze hard elsewhere. “I disliked being in Ushijima-senpai’s shadow. But at the same time, it was comforting to know there was someone else on the team you could rely on.”

He took a long pause before continuing, “I know I talk a lot about being the ace and the one that everyone can trust. But how could the team possibly rely on me? My list of weaknesses is longer than anyone of the other regular's and yet I am the next ace? I couldn’t even score when their libero was literally dived down on the floor.”

It seemed that the final with Karasuno had more of an effect on Goshiki than he seemed to let off. Karasuno’s libero, whose name currently escaped you, was capable to receiving a rather fast overhand serve. It was launched back to Shiratorizawa’s side and even set Goshiki up for the spike. But their libero was so immensely skilled that he received it again and Karasuno was able to score the point. That was no easy feat and everyone, no matter which team you were cheering for, were massively impressed.

And to the one who spiked, your friend and classmate, that event was entirely demeaning.

His list of faults did not end there. “I couldn’t even serve right! In the second set, I was the first one and it was out by a large margin. Towards the end, I started breaking down and messed up on a simple serve receive. It took Ushijima-senpai to calm me down and now that he’s going to graduate, I could only imagine how much a burden I will be to the team. I’ll never be the true ace.”

He buried his head in his arms, your hand still encased with his. Tendou popped his head in the gym, but he went unnoticed for an indiscernible amount of time. Once you noticed him, you motioned for him to leave with a subtle wave of your free hand. He stared hard at the situation for a good couple of seconds before giving a thumbs-up and a wide smirk. Your eyes rolled in your head, but you had to address the situation at hand.

You extended your arm across his shoulders and freed your other hand to rest it on his chin, grabbing it for him to fully face you. “It’s okay to have anxieties. We all do. Our third-years have given us a foundation to be proud of and soon enough we will have to do the same for the incoming first-years. Ushijima was an amazing spiker, recognized even as top 3 in the country. But that doesn’t change the fact that he still lost.”

He grimaced in response and you took his hand back in yours.

“What you can do, is learn all that you can from your senpai. Take his advice and prepare yourself for Interhigh since that’s when you’ll be taking charge. It will be there and only there that you can prove that you're the true ace, since you are.” His face was unreadable, but you could tell he was listening intently to each word. “And you, of all people, are not alone. You’re surrounded by friends and a team that loves you. If you’re ever feeling this way, don’t be afraid to open up to me. You’re my friend, Goshiki… And I…”

His eyes widened at your words and you could sense the smile slowly creeping up on his visage. Goshiki squeezed your adjoined hands and leaned in closer. “And you…?” He asked.

You could not hold back your blush at the suddenly close proximity. “And… I want to see you happy.”

Goshiki leaned back at your words, smile now obvious as he stared across the gym at an indiscernible spot. “I never said I was unhappy.” He turned back to you, adorned with a matching blush, “How can I be unhappy with such an incredible friend like you, (F/N)-chan?” That was enough signal that he was feeling better. Not fully there, but it seemed your words were enough for him at the moment. Your sunshine had returned.

“Well you had me worried there, you ass.” You withdrew the arm that was across his shoulder and instead used it to lightly punch him.

“You wound me!” He laughed, but threw his own arm around your waist and held you in a close embrace. “Thank you for listening.” You were tucked beneath his chin, but you did not need to see his face to know he was just as embarrassed.

“No problem,” The words came out muffled against him. “You big idiot.”

He laughed lightly and replied, “Well you’re stuck with me, so deal with it.”

“I never said I was unhappy.” You threw his words back at him, “Did you have dinner yet?”

“Are you asking me out on a date?” His smile widened.

“I’m making sure your dumb ass is taken care of!”

“You care about my ass?”

Goshiki was teasing you! He was a ball of sunshine, no doubt, but his daily association with Tendou was enough for him to gain a lot of sass. Goshiki was the ultimate kouhai of his entire volleyball team and it was no surprise to see bits of each member in his personality every once in a while.

“You’re so cute, (F/N)-chan.” He ruffled your hair with his free hand, your hands still in their embrace and neither of you making the move to let go. “I haven’t yet.”

“Were you planning on practicing all-night and skipping more carbs? How are you supposed to grow without any protein?”

“I don’t think I have to worry about getting any bigger.” You blanched at his words, Damn Goshiki is wild now! Your thoughts must have been conveyed by the surprised expression on your face and he clarified yelling, “In height! I’m over 180 centimetres! What are you thinking, (F/N)-chan?! Are you secretly dirty?”

You ignored his accusation, rolling your eyes yet again. Regrettably, he let go of your hand to go back into the men’s locker room to grab his stuff.

When you met again outside, he took your hand back immediately. You blushed at the sudden skinship. Earlier you were doing it to comfort him and you could pin it to that reasoning. But if anyone saw you two now, it was undeniable that you two were simply hold hands with various obvious implications behind it. Your enthusiastic friend did not appear unaffected either. He was looking straight ahead towards the destination, grin wide with a very light rosy complexion.

A quick glance at your phone again and it was around ten at night. It was relatively early, but around this time the cafeterias were littered with mostly the older students as opposed to first-years.

You two swiped in and sat at a high table against the window, near the back and hoping not to attract any attention. But of course, on the other side of the cafeteria was a group comprised of other volleyball players, enjoying their dinners after practice and actually succeeding at being inconspicuous.

They watched the entire interaction in stunned silence. Tendou was previously trying to convince the group that you two were the new team OTP and would get together even before the end of the semester. His argument, however, required no more words since physical proof seemed to walk right through the door. Your very team captain was the leader against this idea, saying you two were friends and nothing more.

But when Goshiki only let go of your hand just to pull your seat out for you, your captain professed it was true love. Tendou scoffed in anger, of course it was! He saw it from the very start. Ushijima was not the type to engage in gossip, but he noted that you two paired each other very well. You two got along well, from the very start, despite Goshiki's personality that seemed to annoy his teammates. He did inwardly question it thought - you seemed much more reserved and your intelligence radiated outwardly. Ushijima, honestly, could see you coupled with Kenjirō too. Shaking his head, he did not really know you anyway so does it really matter? With that, he nodded along with the flow of conversation, suddenly uninterested. Reon and Eita were proud of their smol kouhai. If you liked him even with that coconut-haircut, they thought, then it must be love.

This all occurred unbeknownst to the two of you. So dinner proceeded as usual, very casual but with a warmer air surrounding you that you could not describe with words. Goshiki was already incredibly tall and when he leaned forward his knees would make contact with yours. It seemed that your blush was permanent and that only made his self-esteem soar.

“You’re so pretty, (F/N)-chan.” He commented, but once the words left his mouth he sweated with apparent embarrassment.

“You don’t have to butter me up.”

“But I mean it.” You shared more tender eye-contact and it was not the first time that this happened.

The third-years were eating up the scene, taking in every small detail of your “date.” Every lingering moment, touch under the table, even a smile, did not do unnoticed by the sudden shippers.

Whenever Goshiki smiled, you could not help but feel happy just looking at him. He literally emitted rays of happiness and it filled you heart with joy. He was, in all honesty, a very cute guy. He was an amazing catch for anyone, yourself included. Goshiki was accepted into a powerhouse private high-school and even became a regular during his first-year. And, he kept good grades despite his challenging advanced classes! You suffered through calculus together, but that boy seemed to always have his shit together.

Goshiki caught your staring and you looked down towards your food in apparent humiliation at getting caught in the act. “No, don’t be shy.” He reached over and lifted your chin to look at him, similar to how you did before.

“Okay.”

Eita gripped his heart at the cute exchange and Tendou, while he was the leader of your ship, could not help but feel a hint of jealousy at seeing the first-year already snatching up an adorable young girl. Yes, he was proud of his kouhai. But it was unfair! He was third-year and his love life was not as nearly sorted.

The two of you left, of course hand-in-hand, and walked unknowingly passed your volleyball captains. Reon pointed out that Goshiki really must be in love, since he ignored all of his senpai’s - including Ushijima-san! - to keep his attention fully on you.

The stroll back to the dorms was full of more teasing and chatter, something that the two of you were very comfortable with. He walked you all the way to your door, smiling the whole way. You two were undoubtedly friends with hints of something and you were unsure how to say goodbye. His slowly gaze traveled from your eyes and dropped down to your lips. You looked away, extremely unsure on how to proceed. While you were lost in thought, Goshiki took the initiative by lightly gripping your chin and placing a light kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He muttered against your skin, before smiling and walking away.

You waved back and unlocked your door. Your roommate, another first-year on the volleyball team, was wide awake and standing a little beyond the opening. Sakura was incredibly nosy in your business, but you could not deny that you were just the same for her! It was rare for roommates to be best friends, but you two had clicked instantly. Her current expression was a mixture of surprised and joyful and there was no doubt that she was spying on you.

“What was that?!” She nearly screamed, “How many times have you said 'Goshiki is just my friend'? You know what you’re right. He is your friend. That is, your boyfriend!” She teased.

“Yeah, yeah.” You waved her off, moving to your side of the room and placing you duffel bag with your stuff. She plopped down onto your bed, sure on getting some answers.

“Come on seriously. Tell meeeeee.” Sakura begged.

You paused, shifting your gaze from her to your hands before you sat next to her. “I think I like Goshiki.”

“Well, yeah! Both coaches could have told you that!” She lightly smacked your arm, “The only person who didn’t know was probably you. Ugh, you’re lucky that boy is so in love with you.”

“Woah! It’s not that far yet. We’re not even dating.”

“Yet! You said yet!”

“Don’t you have a test in your early class tomorrow?” You pushed Sakura off your bed.

“Don’t remind me.” She stared hard at your before returning to her own desk, “Don’t think this is over! We’re talking about this more at lunch.”

You conceded, before prepping yourself to finally sleep! You were brushing your teeth in the bathroom when your phone, which was placed precariously on your bed, dinged from a text message. It was no ordinary tone, one that you specifically assigned to Tsutomu alone and one that your roommate immediately recognized.

You both dove for the phone, eager to read it. She grabbed it first since she was closer and held it up for both of you to read at the same time.

       From: (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ my coconut

       Goodnight, sweetheart! Get some sleep and don’t think about my ass too much ;)

“What?!” She was doubled-over in laughter, “Oh my god (F/N), you are wild.”

XXXX

The morning was not easier and you woke to your phone blasting with multiple notifications across various applications. You did not have class until later in the day and were able to sleep-in, but it seemed you missed out on a lot of drama! First things first, you loaded up your laptop since it seemed to take forever to load. Meanwhile, you unlocked your phone and decided on catching-up to this morning's drama.

Scrolling all the way down, the first message was around the wee hours of the morning from Tendou to the shared group chat for both the men’s and women’s volleyball team.

GC: Caw Caw SHIRATORIZAWA ୧༼✿ ͡◕ д ◕͡ ༽୨

7:23       From: The most tender Salami            We may have lost the finals, but Goshiki is a winner

Attached: Inthegym.jpg, dinnerdate.jpg

           From: Captain-senpai!            I was a disbeliever, but now I am all aboard S.S. Goshki x (L/N)

           From: Okaasan/Eita            Oh my god, Satori

           From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)            Tendou-san why

           From: Not-my-libero-Yamagata ( ´ ▽ ` )            Cute.

           From: The most tender Salami            I spy with my nosy eye, two volleyball dorks in love!          

           From: Sakura ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)            Excuse you, but I am the leader of this ship!

Attached: vballpractice.jpg

To your dismay, attached was a discreet and incredibly candid picture of the two of you in an intense high-five after scoring in practice. The two of you were often put on the same team against your senpai’s and simply getting a spike in was enough to have you ecstatic. But this did not go ignored by your best-friend.

           From: The most tender Salami            Oh yeah??? Well, how about this? (╬ Ò ‸ Ó)

Attached: HECAUGHTTHEHANDS.jpg, getaroom.jpg

This continued between the two idiots for a while, with various pictures that you were completely unaware of being posted. Other members of each team interjected with positive comments and you knew your embarrassment was splayed across your face. You continued scrolling away, it seemed that you were one half of the main subject for the morning and no one attempted to change the subject. Ushijima-san interjected once to ask if anyone wanted extra practice, but then also added: I agree with the above comments.

This was so embarrassing! Have your news blasted across the platform was unbelievable and you wondered how in the hell did Tendou get so many pictures of the two of you together. Scrolling down closer to the present, even Goshiki replied to the groupchat.

10:43  From: (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ my coconut          Senpai’s please. I’m the captain now.

         From: (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ my coconut          Well at least for the ship. ( ◞･౪･)

You were sure that you would die any moment now, from either embarrassment or anger. Yes, it was heartwarming to see all these volleyball dorks approve of your crush. But oh my god, did they really have to discuss it while said crush could see it?! You scrolled down to the last message and realized that most of both teams had read the chat already. You were the last one to get the news! And it was about you!!

There was no way to get out of this situation and it would show that you read the chat already, so you had to reply:

11:57  From: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ there are no words          welp. Gotta blast ∠( ᐛ 」∠)

There were responses immediately, but you did not dare open that groupchat until your mind was effectively mollified. There was too much going on and you just woke-up. You needed breakfast and coffee before dealing with the words of Tendou.

In your private chat with the other first-years of the women’s volleyball team, they were more apprehensive and sensitive to the situation. Of course, they had plenty of questions: since when did you guys hold hand?! Was probably the most popular thing asked. But of course, there was no point in beating around the bush.

To: We were born to make history! ♀ (ﾉ･д･)ﾉ

12:03  From: Future-Setterヽ(;^o^ヽ)          Come on, (F/N)-chan. Be real with us. Do you like him???

You let the message sit idly unanswered and it seemed they were waiting for your response. The group-chat was previously spammed with other various members chatting, but now it seemed that they were all eager to see what you were going to say. You liked Goshiki, there was no doubt. But confirming it out loud – or over text – was incredibly hard. It was not like you were not trying either. You attempted to type your feelings multiple times, but backspace'd your entire text every single time. There just too much to say and texting was not a good medium to get the point across. You were friends with Goshiki before anyone else and that was friendship that you did not want to lose.

The door to your dorm slammed open to reveal your roommate, now drained of energy after attending two classes. “I am done for the day, let’s go to lunch!” Sakura urged you to be presentable for the outdoors and you complied, incredibly hungry.

Sporting a simple sweatshirt and leggings, the two of you walked together and along the way passed several other students you could recognize. In the corner of your eye, you spotted the familiar jersey of the Shiratorizawa volleyball team and that only spurned you to walk faster to the cafeteria. After swiping-in and settling down, Sakura did not let the peaceful conversation last. Mid-bite, she seemed to finally settle on words in her head before setting the chicken back down on the plate. “So you never fully gave me details about what happened last night.”

You paused, picking up your green tea and lingering it at your lips, Here we go. “It’s probably not as bad as the rest of you are thinking.” She smiled, but urged you to continue, “He wasn’t feeling well so I comforted him. We had dinner together and then he walked me back to the dorm.”

“Ugh. I have to pry it out of you, don’t I?” Sakura looked to the side, undoubtedly thinking of more specific questions. “Why were you holding hands?”

“I was comforting him.”

“In the gym, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So why were you guys holding hands at dinner?” There was no escape! You thought. If you kept this up, you could keep the conversation going in circles for a few more minutes before she got fed up and literally/physically pried the answers she wanted from you. That was probably the most annoying option, so you settled on the most straight-forward answer.

“Because I like him.” You stated in the most serious tone.

Sakura’s reaction was instantaneous and the evidence of such was her spilled drink across the table. This gained the attention of those in the immediate proximity and you had to wave them off, reassuring the others that you two were okay.

“It took you forever to admit it last night and you won’t even respond to the other girls in the groupchat. But now you’re saying it so casually?” Sakura partly teased.

“I think it’s obvious enough.” You admitted.

“That you have a crush on ‘lil Tsutomu?” The familiar voice of the guess monster suddenly appeared in your private conversation.

Tendou was a huge instigator, but underneath all of that crap he cared deeply for his younger teammates. And the fact that his number one kouhai was the subject of the day, Tendou was undoubtedly surging with jokes for teasing. Most of the first-years accepted his rather strange personality, but that was because they did not really have to deal with it. You were personally on the receiving end more often than not and you wondered how different high-school might have been if you were in the same grade-level. But he was your senior and you had to respect him.

Sakura reeled in anger from the previous conversation in the morning, “This is an AB conversation. So C yourself out.” You scoffed at the joke while Tendou fully ignored it.

“You and Tsutomu-kun have calculus together after this, right?” Tendou asked, but you had a feeling he already knew the answer.

“Yeah. We sit together.”

His eyebrows nearly flew to his hairline and he, to Sakura’s dismay, dragged a chair from an empty table to sit next to you. He plopped his take-out bento on the table, filled with various foods as if he was on his way out. It seemed he spotted you two across the cafeteria – who wouldn't after the scene you two made earlier? – and made his way over.

This was probably information that he did not get to out of Goshiki. “Wow. Sat together just recently?”

“No, he was the first friend I made at orientation so when I saw him during class…”

Tendou’s eyes narrowed for a brief second and you felt like this was an interrogation, or at least something like it. You also had a small inkling that Tendou attempted the same questioning to Goshiki, but failed to receive any new information out of the wing-spiker

“Wow, love at first sight?” He teased.

“Stop.” You responded, with no malice behind your words. In front of you were your two biggest shippers and it was no doubt that Sakura, while temporarily angry at Salami, was also enjoying his questioning.

“Well. Good luck to you,” He ruffled your hair as he got up, grabbing his take-out box. “Not that you’ll need it. If anything, Tsutomu-kun is too infatuated with you he’ll agree to anything!”

“(F/N) could probably get Goshiki to give her his wallet, honestly.” Sakura joined in his teasing.

“Just don’t corrupt him too much! He’s the new ace so he’ll need to be able to run normally.” Tendou pushed the bounds of his taunting and even Sakura had to cover her blush. Laughing, the tall Salami finally made his exit, waving goodbye as he went.

“I mean you are pretty wild. We both know you like his ass. What other stuff are you—” Sakura went even further and you had to hold your hands up in defense. “Alright, I’ll stop… for now.”

The rest of lunch went by more peaceful and you had yet to respond to the first-year groupchat. Sakura departed early saying she had to catch-up with studying at the library so you went back to the dorm alone, left with only your thoughts.

Finally left to your own judgement, it was extremely obvious that you liked the poor coconut head. You only wondered how he was feeling right at the moment. Maybe he was just as nervous as you to go to calculus class? He seemed pretty confident the night before when he kissed your forehead, so maybe not. The question of if you liked Goshiki was an easy one. An answer that required no more than a second to think about before you had an answer. The only problem was, where do you go from here?

You decided to seek some help and spoke candidly in the first-year women's groupchat.

To: We were born to make history! ♀ (ﾉ･д･)ﾉ

13:25      From: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ there are no words             I really like him.

           From: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ there are no words            Which is crazy bc I want to talk to him but im scared

           From: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ there are no words            And im going to have to see him in 34 mins 11 secs

           From: Future-Setterヽ(;^o^ヽ)            Holy shit

           From: Sakura ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)              Hahahahaha            From: Future-Setterヽ(;^o^ヽ)            im proud that you’re owning up to it            From: Future-Setterヽ(;^o^ヽ)            BUT WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU            From: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ there are no words            wat

           From: Future-Setterヽ(;^o^ヽ)            You guys talk all the time, best friends before dating, he literally told the both volleyball teams he’s in love with you, and you’re afraid?????????????            From: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ there are no words            I know… he’s so sweet. That’s why I don’t want to lose him. I don’t want to fuck up            From: Future-Setterヽ(;^o^ヽ)            Ohhhhh            From: Sakura ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)            That’ll be hard especially for you            From: Future-Setterヽ(;^o^ヽ)            LMAO            From: Sakura ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)            Kidding! But seriously, the only person who can determine that is you. You need to talk to him!!! Or else he’ll think he did something wrong.                        From: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ there are no words            I know, just ugh. My emotions                From: Sakura ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)            Me too! OTP is sailing!! How do you think I feel????            From: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ there are no words            Um            From: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ there are no words            Didn’t you go to the library to study??            From: Future-Setterヽ(;^o^ヽ)            LOL! Have fun girlie!!! Don’t stare too much at him during class

There was about twenty minutes left until your ultimate demise – jesus, why are you like this?? – and you were mentally preparing yourself. Checking your homework one last time, it was fully done and ready to be handed in. (Homework that you worked on with the object of your desire!) There was no stalling and nothing that could possibly be done.

The analog clock seemed to get louder and louder and you were filled with more self-doubt than before. There was a pressure creeping up inside you. Not only were you trying to smooth out your relationship with Tsutomu, but it seemed that you had an audience. Both teams were made aware of the couple and certainly, they all had expectations.

What if you dated and it did not work out? It would ruin the blissful atmosphere shared between both teams! Joint practices would be tense and there would be obvious divisions between friends. And it would be all your fault! The worst-case scenario is that you did date and somewhere along the lines, you were the cause of the break-up. You would be a failure to those religiously shipping the two of you and it hurt your heart to see the future so tense.

With a firm determination, you set off to class with the simple idea of telling Tsutomu that you just wanted to be friends.

You were finally at the threshold, mentally preparing yourself for acting against your heart, when the door suddenly slid open to reveal a just-as-surprised Tsutomu.

He paused and then smiled.

His smile.

It always seemed to captivate you and you could not help, but smile back. Back at orientation, both volleyball teams were forced to mingle and get acquainted with one another and you were too damn shy to join the large social circles that were forming. But he saw you, standing off to the side looking incredibly shy. And he smiled.

“Hey.” He greeted, moving to the side to allow room for you to walk through into the classroom.

“How are you?” You asked, walking to your desk and placing down your books. You both stood next to each other, smiling away as if something was on both your minds.

“Fine. Get a good sleep?”

“Yeah, I slept-in.” You looked away sheepishly. The boy was known for his rigorous training and you had no doubt that he woke-up early to practice.

“Me too.”

“Waking up before nine in the morning does not count as sleeping in.”

“You got me then. So you saw the groupchat?” You were about to answer, but he cut himself off. “That was a dumb question. Of course you did, you responded. I mean, after that you didn’t respond and I checked it a few times and it said you hadn’t seen it yet so. Oh my god. Not that I’m stalking you or anything, I just wanted—”

“No. It’s alright.” You laughed lightly into your hand and grabbed his hand with your free one. “What’s really on your mind?”

He paused, taking in your face and literally glowing at your now conjoined hands. Tsutomu squeezed back lightly and responded, “A lot of things. Some of them are crazy ideas.”

“Like what?”

“Like if you would be my girlfriend?”

He’s so fucking smooth! You screamed internally, but attempted to remain composed on the outside. Your outward visage did break and your yelp of surprise was coupled with shook eyes. Your expression must have scared him and he put more pressure on your hands.

“I mean, it’s only a thought!”

“No. You can’t take it back!” You decided on taking the initiative. “I would love to be your girlfriend!”

His smile seemed to only radiate more and you could almost feel the happiness emanating off of him. You were in the classroom, with less than five minutes to starting, so this was probably the least romantic atmosphere that you two could have chosen. But that did not matter to either of you – well maybe Goshiki, because he really wanted to kiss you, but they were in public /ugghh! He settled on taking your hand, the one encased in his, and placing a light kiss on it before returning to his seat.

You were a blushing mess throughout class, answering every question that the teacher had asked wrong.