#that was the lost coherent post of the day people the pain is back and with a vengeance…..

[milimeters-morales]

So my thing with Hobie’s nicknames: I have Hobie call Lyla “Tinkerbell” or “Tink” bc she’s small, has a yellow glow, and has an attitude, so i’m probably just gonna have him base his names off of childrens’ story characters, like for example Jess would be “Kanga” and her unborn baby is “Roo”, Margo I haven’t decided yet since we don’t know much about her movie-self and Hobie wouldn’t have any character to reference bc of her technology, but from what I’ve seen she could have her nickname as something related to The Little Mermaid because while everyone is here in person, she’s in her own dimension in a life she doesn’t really enjoy, but i’m also hesitant to have him think “Cinderella” is a good name because cmon. Her parents argue a lot, and she does use being a vigilante as a form of escape, but that’s implying that they hate her and harm her, and that’s not something Hobie would say without 100% certainty. Maybe he’d just give her a non-character nickname, like Pixie (bc Pixelate, Pixie Dust, Pick-&-Choose, whatever). Okay this is getting long it’s continued under the cut.

I personally don’t like the Gwendy and Peter Pan nicknames he gave Gwen and Miles but i guess it’s cute, but i would’ve preferred something a bit more personal to Miles rather than just in relation to Gwen bc they feel less like their own people then, even tho Peter and Wendy were an adorable duo. I can see Gwen = Wendy bc she ran away from home to a “neverland” that was supposed to be a paradise basically but realizes she can’t stay, or if you take that “Gwen was going to be shot in the stomach” thing some people who worked on the movie said they got rid of and apply it to her “ghost, gwen stacy always falls, forever immortal and taking back control” thing and her relationship with death and the idea of Neverland having dead children so they are “immortal” and “never grow up” it sticks.

But (even if it’s teasing) calling Miles “Peter Pan” doesn’t even make sense because he didn’t lead her here, she led him to the Society (unknowingly). Like people want to shove “sunflower” and “flower” into everything involving Miles so badly and it feels EXTREMELY forced. I feel like Hobie would call him something else, and this is where the name “Bambi” could come in because while Miles hasn’t lost his mother or father, he’s still learning his place in the world while saving countless people now and in the future, and will eventually become a great stag, even if life wasn’t always kind to him. But again, I don’t think Hobie would do that 100% because he doesn’t really know Miles like that. Or, he could go for more recent nicknames and non-character names that are safer, like “Brave Little Toaster/Toaster” for obvious reasons, or “Spark/Bolt/Livewire” that don’t feel as child-like as “Bambi” or as forced as “Peter Pan”

I also have to take into account what things Hobie just might not have seen, because in the setting i’m talking about he’s not living in a houseboat, so he probably doesn’t have much time to see or learn about these fairytales/characters, and it’s based on chance on when he’d know about them. Because I also have to remember that his city is still highly policed and his people are forced to fit into the mold and comply to societal standards and whatnot, so even things as simple and enjoyable as short stories for kids would be heavily controlled. Libraries are fucked in his universe but they’re one of the only “safe” havens. I think it really adds to his attitude about his own life, how he’s much older than these friends despite being like 16-19, and how he feels the most responsible for them no matter how much he denies that and tries to get rid of that feeling. Calling them these nicknames gives him both the feeling of “haha, these little kids are the future and i’m an old man” and “i’m a little kid again!!”

that’s it :3

[maitadori]

Hi there love,

How are ya doing ?

…So exams are hurting my soul right now, I hate uni 😭

If you have time can you do a little something, where blade and jing yuan (or just blade if you choose only one) where they are distracting their s/o from studying or completing their paper work. If you can, can you make it nsfw 💕

KEEP YOUR HANDS TO YOURSELF nsfw blade, jing yuan x fem!reader, separately

content warning : blades is modern. reader is wearing a skirt in jing yuan’s fingering (blade), dry jumping (jing yuan) nothing much else really

a/n : hiiii tysm for requesting me!! and to answer u i am doing preeetty good, i’ve been somewhat busy and burnt out (even though i barely write to begin with) so i’m trying to get back in the groove. you actually sent this ask awhile back and i am so sorry it took me so long to respond 😭.. but i hope ur exams weren’t too much of a pain in the ass. and i hope this is up to your standards!!! this is kinda small but if i tried going into the actual stuff i would’ve lost motivation 2 write.

requests are open btw plz request me i want smth to do

do u guys notice that i don’t have a posting schedule. idk if anyone actually does but

DARK CONTENT BLOGS AND MINORS PLZ DNI!!!

BLADE :

blade was insatiable

something the both of you were already aware of

in his defense you looked sexy even when you were just sitting there

so could you really blame him for wanting to undress you even when whatever you were doing was so mundane?

he laid on your bed, taking in the scent of you on your pillow as he watched you shuffle through papers

your focused face had him staring

the way your eyes squinted, the way you clicked your tongue whenever something irritated you, or when you huffed out sighs like every three seconds due to exhaustion

his eyes then dropped to look at the glossiness of your lips as you bit them in a fruitless attempt to concentrate

he could feel his pants tighten the longer he stared

he could feel embarrassed. he should feel embarrassed. but he really can’t bring himself to care about the details, all he knew was he wanted you. bad.

so when you look up at him through your lashes once he approaches your desk and you blink, clueless. he’s far reached past his breaking point

“blade! you can’t be serious! i really have to nnn-” you’re cut off as he curls his fingers in a certain angle — putty in his hands within mere seconds, you’re barely able to speak coherently, “i have to study!”

“you’ve been doing that all day,” he groans out, watching your contorting face with rapt attention, resisting the urge to get the foreplay over with and shove himself inside you.

if anything he should be getting praised for holding out this long.

blade has you on your back as he hovers over you, fingers buried in the depths of you as he observes every twitch and jerk. a certain stroke of his has your eyes rolling behind your eyelids — a sight that has blade taking your lips immediately.

the kiss is rough and desperate, it alone conveys how much blade wants — no, needs you. he’s biting your lips, sucking your tongue and practically your life force as you go limp from the ferocity of it all.

“you— haah — you came to me knowing i’d be.. be busy! it’s not my fault you don’t listeeennn!!!” your leg jerks and you impulsively try kicking him away as your climax approaches. he’s curling the sweet spot within you so efficiently that your mind goes blank.

all you can do is chant his name as if he were your god, drunk on him and his touch.

he gets harder at the sight of you losing yourself, not even aware that it was possible — but of course you of all people prove him wrong.

as your vision goes white and your cries echo throughout the house once you fall over the edge, blades easing you through it, rubbing your clit as you moan in ecstasy. once blade is sure that your orgasm has passed and you go lax against your pillows, he makes haste to unbuckle and undress himself. he’d be damned if he wasn’t inside you before the minute ended.

your arms are over your eyes as you pant heavily. you’re exhausted beyond belief and as of now, studying is the last thing on your mind. it isn’t until you hear the clanking of metal together that you peek from behind your arms.

lo and behold, blade pulling his thick cock from the confines of his boxers. your eyes bulge and you look up at him questioningly. “w-wait.. you’re not..”

“what’d you think i was prepping you for?” he asks, tone raspy and somewhat condescending.

you dig your elbows into the pillows to sit you up, but blade pushes you back against the bed with one hand and cock in the other. “you’re crazy if you think i’m gonna go any longer without fucking you.”

“i have exams soon, can’t it wait?”

“it can’t.”

before you could try and say anything more, his slaps the tip of his cock against your clit, rubbing against it in an up and down motion. your eyes roll back and your tongue goes heavy.

you couldn’t find it in you to care about your studies when he filled you all the way to the hilt. this was much better anyways.

JING YUAN :

one thing about jing yuan is that he is extremely persuasive and convincing.

you had to admit it was both his worst and best trait

when his voice is suave and deep, it’s almost like you’re being lured in by a siren

and you hate the effect he has on you, because it’s always hard to say no

not only that but he’s extremely shameless. he isn’t afraid or embarrassed of showing his attraction towards you

so when he wants something from you, he has you wrapped around his finger within mere moments.

he’s swarming you like a mosquito, buzzing in your ear with his voice, you resist the urge to swat him

he has an extremely important meeting next week that needs to be arranged accordingly, but jing yuan is more interested in feeling you up.

usually you’d have no qualms about this and you’d accept easily, and you’re sure that no matter what jing yuan does, his reputation as the general will stay strong

but the idea of people thinking badly of him has your stomach stirring

so you scold and you wave him away, all in vain, really.

because if jing yuans anything else other than persuasive and charismatic, it’s stubborn.

he leans down to nip your neck lightly with his canines and you hate to admit how quickly you melted

jing yuan’s lips are hot on yours. you can feel him fighting off a smile as he devours you whole. he has you straddling him on his chair, papers haphazardly moved about as you try to find balance on the desk behind you.

jing yuan’s hands know no bounds, for they touch any skin they find. he’s caressed you from your neck and collarbones to the hem of your panties. he makes sure to give your chest good attention too. teasing just under your bra and chuckling at your desperate whining.

“ah. but didn’t you say you had to work? maybe we should stop,” he says that, yet he’s smirking. he hasn’t even taken off your shirt yet, and you have half the mind to go back to work and try and act as if his behavior doesn’t affect you so heavily.

you’re silent, coherency on its last thread. jing yuan is aware and decides to give you a little break.

he gestures for you to lift your arms, and despite the weakness in them, you use your last remaining bits of strength to give jing yuan leeway of ridding you of your shirt.

and before you can do anything else, his teeth are kissing bruises into your skin, soothing them with pecks of his lips right after.

your fingers go behind his neck to grip the roots of his hair and your head tilts back as your lips part to make shape of his name.

jing yuan’s lips are occupied so he decides to busy his hands as well. his thumb teases the curve of your nipple that’s glossy from his saliva as his other thumb nears dangerously close to your clothed clit. he eagerly lifts your skirt to make way for his hand, anticipation going through the roof at the feel of your heavily soaked panties.

“tell me where you want me,” he groans out.

“touch me here,” you whimper, placing his hand right against your panties.

his smirk returns and his voice takes on a condescending tone, “but i am touching your there, aren’t i?”

“jing yuan!!” you moan breathily, voice coated in half pleasure and half anger. at the sound jing yuan’s lips curl into a smile.

a ghost of his finger right over where you needed him most has a loud whine leaving your lips. it’s not exactly what you wanted, but with your general, you’d take what you could get.

but you don’t even notice how quick you gyrate your hips in search of that familiar friction. you unintentionally shoved jing yuan’s face in your chest, your face in his hair and arms moved to wrap around his neck as you moan prettily.

you’ve hit the point where your mind is blank and only in search of pleasure, something that jing yuan experiences with you a lot.

but instead of disciplining you for this behavior as he usually would when you got out of hand, he sets his heavy hands on your waist to help guide your movement, teeth nipping at your skin. he’s happy with his decision once your noises get louder and your grip around his tightens.

jing yuan’s mind clouds and he can’t help admitting that he likes this side of you, the side of you that cares not for his pleasure and just wants to use him for your own.

jing yuan taglist : @ceylestia @comettheasteroid @voidsatoru @blazervain @meaningofaeons

blade taglist : @shrimp-anon @caesadele i just realized how small my blade taglist is omg

[angelsndragons]

so i think i have too many c3 thoughts right now to be entirely coherent so fuck it, we roll. warning: super long post, i insincerely apologize.

while everyone is getting lost in the sauce about the gods and whether they “deserve to live” and whatnot, i think we the audience (and the players to a lesser extent but that’s just my reading) are missing the forest for the trees. because c3 is not about the gods, it’s about our pcs, moreover, it is about our pcs and their relationships to/with power, control, and responsibility. as conflict avoidant (and avoidant in general) as our party is, we need something big and in your face to really delve into their understanding of their issues and the solutions they believe will solve the problems. the gods are only part of the story because they are the biggest, most in your face representation of these issues. the gods have power; do they use it to control others, to control fate? what are their responsibilities when it comes to what their followers do? does any of that even matter in the face of their annihilation? if they have power and don’t use it, what is their responsibility then? adjacently, is free will even a thing when dealing with time and power on a scale that mortals cannot comprehend? and if we “surrender” to that, if we “just have faith” are we ceding control of our own lives to these far more powerful beings and what would that say about us?

these themes are a continuation of what aabria started in exu where she hammered over and over again that power isn’t inherently good or evil, it’s the choices one makes that matter. and if you choose not to decide, if you choose to avoid the issue, you still have made a choice. and you need to own it.

back in the early days, bells hells were all potential, not quite coming into their power and scrounging around for any semblance of control they could manage. ashton told themself that nothing mattered, that everything was shit, and to care was to destroy themself. they chose to just let things happen. chet believed that the only way he could fully control his own fate was to be a loner. fcg thought they were in control and encouraged others, through admittedly not great means, to make choices and take what small control they could, even as they thought choices were not for them. fearne collected, stole, and held things and others too close to keep them from leaving. imogen fought for rigid control over herself, her powers, and her curiosity about said power. laudna avoided the problem altogether; out of sight, out of mind. if she didn’t think about or care about delilah, it didn’t matter, it wouldn’t hurt her or anyone else. orym ceded control of his future to all the other characters and tried to redo the loss of his husband every time he entered a fight.

nowadays? despite their own perceptions of helplessness, they are undeniably powerful enough to make a difference, to make a real mark on the world. and now they have to deal with the responsibility of that power. while also grappling with those control questions that haven’t yet been solved. they’re level 10 characters- the nein were dealing with the happy fun ball, obann and his cronies, and the citadel, for reference. the hells have power, after spending so long feeling powerless and out of control. and i don’t think any of them is comfortable with this yet. having power has not, and probably will not, solved their problems. ashton still has the hole in their head and chronic pain. fearne keeps losing people. imogen is still being drawn to the red moon. laudna still compartmentalizes and is desperately disengaged with her own power and choices. power and control are ultimately separate factors and beasts, is what i am getting at, and having one doesn’t necessarily equate with having the other.

it’s a lot, is what i’m saying. the hells by and large haven’t solved their personal control and power issues so it’s no wonder they are flailing about and rehashing the god question over and over and over again. because the question isn’t really about the gods, the question is about them.

chet and orym have the most straightforward relationships with power and control in the party. orym is regaining control of his life, regaining the ability to lay down what he wants and expects, gaining the ability to lead in the process. chet’s reconciled the betrayal of his authority figure and more than that has consistently and repeatedly owned up to his screw ups and when his lack of control has fucked him or others up. and i think that’s why the pair of them most successfully separate the gods’ power from the gods’ control over the world.

fcg, he who was made to care for others and who now chooses to do so, has gained a relationship with his goddess. not for nothing was the first major breakthrough the one where fcg made a choice, owned it, and followed through. fortune favors the bold, after all, and the changebringer encourages mortals to seize their fates with both hands. through the tentative first steps of self-care, they have also gained more control over themself and their future. they figured out that murderbot doesn’t have to kill or hurt anyone. through the power of someone else helping them, fcg was able to retain enough control to not spiral. and that’s how fcg sees their new mission: the gods have the power to help others (and use it) so he wants to help them. simple, straightforward.

but here it gets murky. because ashton and laudna in particular see power and control as the same thing. they aren’t separate as far as these characters are concerned. if you have power, why wouldn’t you use it? why wouldn’t you control every single thing you could? why wouldn’t you stop this horrid thing? why would you let this happen? where the pair of them differ is that ashton, practically possibility incarnate, has decided to act. has decided that they have been stuck in a cycle of self-pity and wallowing and, well, if the gods aren’t going to act, even on their own behalf, then fine, they will. fuck it. someone has to. he will put ludinus into the ground for what he’s done and then...well, they’ll be a hero (don’t think i didn’t notice your word choices all episode, taliesin, i am watching ashton like a hawk here). through this decision, this acknowledgement of their own vulnerability, of how much they actually have to lose and how much they will have to fight to keep it, ashton has sent themself on the path towards regaining some control over their life. not for nothing have they been so focused on what power and possibilities their head could bring lately. but don’t think they’re doing it for the gods, oh no. they’re here for all the people like them.

but laudna? oh, laudna feels completely out of control. has for a while. her typical avoidance and compartmentalization strategies were completely failing her in issylra. in the face of all of this, she feels powerless. so what does she do? reach for control the only way she knows how: by using someone else’s power and giving them another foothold with which to control laudna’s own life. again. and after? laudna’s overwhelmed, she’s guilty, she’s worried about what everyone else will think. notice that she doesn’t yet seem worried about what delilah could do to her; it’s the betrayal to her friends, how they see her that worries her most. that she wasn’t strong enough, powerful enough, big enough to find another way (never mind that the facts of the situation were overwhelmingly on her side, especially before she called down delilah). that she lost control again. she’s a puppet on delilah’s strings so long as delilah has power that laudna wants or needs, why would the gods be any different in her eyes?

so, strangely in the middle, we have imogen. imogen, who intimately knows that power and control aren’t the same. but unlike chet and orym, in imogen’s experience, the more power she has, the more out of control she becomes. the more  power she gets, the more she’s drawn to that damn moon whether she wants to be or not. sure, the circlet helps now but it’s a band-aid, a temporary measure, and imogen knows it. and even it couldn’t completely block out her dreams. the cost she pays for her powers continues to climb (she lost her mother, her best friend and two of her party members were murdered for it, this solstice could end the world because of ludinus and ruidusborn like her, she can’t tell how overwhelmed laudna is without her powers). imogen, who questioned whether the bad guys have a point before any of this really kicked off.

and fittingly outside this strange intersection is fearne. fearne has no interest in the gods, really. she doesn’t seem to care one way or the other. however, she did just receive a vision from the duskmaven which honestly almost seems tailored to her specifically. the duskmaven’s champion, her person, is trapped in unending agony, caused by his love for his person. that fearne understands all too well. what she really cares about is her people, her new family. and so, she’s caught in the middle. because right now, all the group can agree on is that they want to stick together to take down ludinus. so where is that going to leave them, exactly, once he’s gone? where will that leave her, with a potential chet/orym/fcg vs laudna/ashton/imogen split, when she wants them all, when they are all hers? and how will her newly found sense of responsibility play into the next stage of the hells’ fight?

so i think that intersection between power, control, and responsibility is why certain characters are moving forward and why others are stumbling backwards. and why certain characters are gung-ho about saving the gods, others indifferent, while others are finding non-god reasons to involve themselves in the plot.

[trashendence]

Yeah. Yep. Mmmhmm. Something about how Buck is increasingly desperate to find the secret to happiness.

How Hen "always has the answers" but she told him he needed to figure it out on his own. How Buck is — likely subconsciously — clinging to the fact that she didn't try to stop him, so he must be on the right track. (Not her responsibility, btw. She's trying to be a supportive friend.)

How that "infinitely beautiful and reachable thing" he's so desperate to find is inside of Buck. Buck himself is infinitely beautiful and worthy of love and happiness. He has been all along.

But he misunderstood the assignment.

It's so deeply ingrained in Buck that he does not exist for his own sake. His body was created — literally conceived — to save someone else. And he failed. (How deeply fucked up is it that his mother's one and only attempt at care and compassion for her son just doubles down on his trauma? That she and his father caused him? "You were born to save someone." Fuck.)

And the more he tries to find happiness, Buck "The Fixer" just keeps trying to save other people. The one and only thing he knows he's good at.

And he keeps saving people. He failed Daniel, but now he does save people. So many people. Strangers, his beloveds (especially Eddie and Chris), over and over again. But why does he still feel so empty and despairing?

He may not write them down, but Buck's got his own ledger of people saved, just like Bobby. If he saves enough people, maybe he can finally be at peace with himself. Except Buck doesn't even have a goal he's trying to reach. It — and he — by definition will never be enough.

Anyway. Evan Buckley misunderstood the assignment and is still stuck in this moment:

He will not find happiness until he 1) reckons with this right here and talks to his parents about himself, 2) realizes he deserves happiness, for his own sake, not as a reward for saving people enough / saving enough people, and 3) that the happiness he seeks is already right there, inside and all around him.

(This was a lot but I caught feelings from your tags.)

this ask is great and more coherent than most of my thoughts, my friend. thank you.

every time i think about hen and buck’s relationship, about him seeking her input, i always go back to the post-lawsuit days, when the rest of the team was still kind of giving buck the (rightful) cold shoulder and hen was the first to properly welcome him back. that “thank you, hen. for not feeling like you need to follow bobby’s lead” and hen’s “i march to the beat of my own drum, buck. always have. you should too.” because that’s exactly what she kept repeating him all those other times, and buck keeps coming back to her to hear it once more, twice more - to have someone tell him that his life is his to live, no matter how it started. no matter how it’ll end.

eddie announces he’s leaving the 118 and buck looks at hen, who’s losing eddie too; buck kisses lucy and tells hen, who gives him advice based on her past mistakes; “hen, you always have the answers” and she’s just failed a test by giving the wrong answers. buck not only thinks someone else can show him the way out of the woods, but he chooses someone who’s just as lost. he was told once that “you make it, son” and “there’s never enough time” and he convinced himself there are universal answers to universal questions, somehow. so he asks the smartest person he knows - who’s lost, still - and listens as she tells him he has the power here, he has agency, they both do. but hen’s way out is not buck’s, and it’s so significant in the frame of his storyline that she’s finally picked her happiness and how to get it without sacrificing herself more precisely when buck’s path is turning on itself over and over again.

the point is that he was conceived in pain and in pain he was every time he managed to be seen. there reside both his question and his answer. sacrifice is his act of rebellion - ‘buck begins’ and how he just doesn’t. listen. and “just breathe”//“how will you breathe?”//“i’m gonna hold it. for as long as i can.” - but it’s also his act of submission to those who have left him alone - “i’m really sorry about your dead son, but can we talk about me for a minute?” -. he can’t ask of his parents to put aside some of their pain for him, that’d be asking them to sacrifice something and they’ve suffered enough. everyone has suffered enough. maybe he hasn’t? maybe the next time he gets crushed or almost drowns, yeah, maybe that will be enough and he’ll be free.

the healthiest mindset he’s shown up until now is his desperate “love me anyway” because unconditional love is what he inherently deserves, just like everyone does, but at the same time there’s nothing worse than that ‘anyway’. anyway? despite what? what should his parents’ love forgive him for? there’s no fault - no original sin - to get over here, and he doesn’t know. he doesn’t know he can get to the core of his being and find the beauty and the happiness he spies in others, he doesn’t know he’s whole and not the sum of parts, he doesn’t know he can stop clinging to whatever he meets on his path if he’s stable and solid as marble himself.

“i hide my true feelings from others myself.”

(copy-pasting this fever-induced set i made for morgan once upon a time because i feel like it sums everything up quite well).

[kivaember]

👀!! but also, 🎯?

🎯 Have any of your readers accurately guessed major plot points? Care to share which?

Interestingly, not many people have made in depth guesses about major major plot points for APV! I am curious to hear people's theories though, if only to see if the foreshadowing I lay down it getting picked up...

Otherwise, on my P5 fic To Know Your Target, quite a few people correctly guessed major plot points, which I found really cool! I like it when people can sorta guess where the story is heading, bc it means I'm building it in a coherent kind of way. There's no better feeling for when you guess something will happen and it does!

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

Oh man I have so many!!! Okay, I have one wip that's like two thirds done... it's a oneshot (a big one rip) that's post LoR. It follows 621 hunting amongst the wreckage of the Xylem for Walter's AC, mostly because he's kinda lost on what to do with himself and also bc he wants to give it a funeral. Rusty, still horribly injured from his fall fromthe Xylem, hijacks an RLF MT and follows him there...

The fic's most about discussing 621 and Rusty's different approaches to grief and moving on and the like... and hilariously, as I was writing it, 621 ended up being a lot more emotionally intelligent than Rusty was...

Have a snippet :) as a treat!

He rounded a collapsed pile of masonry and shattered glass, some sort of towering roof structure that had caved in on the deck below. STALKER was standing in the near distance on the very edge of the deck, staring at the slowly approaching supercell. 

Carefully, Rusty piloted his MT to stand beside STALKER, and directed his visual sensors towards the incoming storm. His wipers were going a little crazy now, frantically whipping back and forth to try and outpace the heavy downpour. Beside him, STALKER moved fractionally, its half-rusted joints creaking loudly. 

“...hey,” Rusty murmured. “Aren’t you tired, Raven?”

STALKER’s head angled towards him. 

«Aren’t you tired, Rusty?»

Rusty felt his mouth quirk into a smile. A response, even if it was a mocking (he assumed). He’d take it. “Yeah. I’m pretty exhausted, to be honest.” 

«…then why are you here.»

“Like I said, I came to get you. You’ve been out here for two days. Uncle was getting worried.”

Raven took his time in replying and Rusty patiently waited, ignoring the various aches and pains lancing through his body like razor sharp glass. It was fine. So long as he didn’t bust the stitches from his spleen repair surgery, he should be okay. 

«I’m fine.»

“Sure,” Rusty said. “Just like I’m fine.”

«I wasn’t in a coma for two days after breaking half my bones.»

no, you were just tortured for weeks on end instead, Rusty did not say with some effort. “You still need to eat, right? You’re augmented, but you’re still human.”

Raven didn’t seem to have a ready response for that, so he just didn’t say anything.

“...what’re you even out here for anyways?” Rusty asked, genuinely curious. The Xylem was a marvel of Institute tech, yeah, but most of it was completely ruined from its violent re-entry. Aside from getting blown up and ransacked by invading corporate and Liberation Front forces alike, the seawater filling up half the ship would’ve eaten away at most of the technology by now. 

«…I’m looking for something.» 

“Well… if you’re looking so hard for it, I guess it must be important…” Rusty said slowly. “Maybe I can help?”

«You’re injured and should be resting.»

“You’re injured too.” Rusty’s tone grew solemn. “I know what they do in those re-education camps, Raven.” 

«…»

“You’ve been flat out since you escaped,” Rusty said softly. “Uncle said you only swung by for a day at our base before running off again. If you don’t stop to rest, your body’s just going to give out on you. It’s a pointless way to go.” 

«…»

“Unless that’s what you want?” Rusty asked, and made sure his voice was dispassionately blunt when he added: “Are you just waiting to die?”

The question lingered between them like an ominous shroud. The supercell moved close enough that its thick cloud wall blocked out the sun, dousing them in deep, dark shadow. 

«…no.»

Raven paused, and STALKER kept shifting its weight back and forth, rusted joints screeching and groaning, the AC not built to spend so much time along the seashore, getting sprayed with saltwater and blasted with coastal gusts. It looked like a corpse just barely moving, skeletal, where chunks of its ablative armour had been stripped off from its own re-entry, and the inner hull torn from the tremendous forces it had been under (had never been designed to endure, but had endured anyways). 

There was even a gaping crack in the Core, a sliver where Rusty could peer past the protective armour and see a bit of the Core block that contained the pilot’s cockpit. Red-tinged rainwater was collecting in that crack, pouring out of it like a miniature stream.

«I don’t know what to do.»

It was unexpectedly honest. Vulnerable. Completely out of nowhere. 

“What do you mean?”  

«Before everything went wrong in Institute City, Handler Walter told me what to do. I knew what to expect with each day. I knew what my objectives were. Now, I know nothing. I’m a mercenary with no money or clients, and I have no idea how to get those things myself. I got my life back, like Walter wanted, but there’s nothing in it.»

STALKER’s head bowed. 

«…I have nothing.»

“That’s not true, Raven,” Rusty said gently, taken aback by Raven’s raw honesty, and cursing the awkwardness of having this talk while they were in two separate mechs. Raven was as expressionless as they came, but he could still gauge his human face better than just staring at the side of STALKER’s cracked Core. 

“After saving Rubicon, you’ve definitely got the Liberation Front on your side,” he continued. “And, for what it’s worth, I’ve got your back too. I know you won’t trust that, considering what happened before Institute City but, I mean it. I was-”

He drew in a slow breath, before admitting quietly: “I was wrong about you. You weren’t a threat to be eliminated, and I acted too hastily in my judgement of you. I’m sorry.”

«It’s fine. You weren’t exactly wrong. I was a threat.»

“...? What do you-”

A flash of scarlet lightning lit up the horizon, followed by a booming thunder that rattled Rusty’s very bones and briefly deafened him. He couldn’t help but wince. 

«I’m looking for Walter,» Raven said in an unexpected non-sequitur, forcibly dropping the last topic. «His corpse is on this ship somewhere.»

[zyzix]

it’s been this long since the release of NEO and what happens to Neku is still like. the Hardest thing to swallow in the story. it’s so bad from both a character writing and thematic point of view

the first thing people think about when they meet Neku again is that he is seriously OOC, but it’s not that simple. it goes deeper than that. It seems like he’s behaving this way for a reason but the reason That seems to be is ALSO an alarming turn for his character with no apparent explanation. What i mean:

Stage One is thinking Neku is OOC because he gets along with everyone pretty easily and isn’t grumpy and doesn’t seem to have a lot of thoughts about being stuck in the ruins of a dead city for three years straight

Stage Two is realizing that we don’t see Neku’s internal monologue in this game except a SINGLE exception in Another Day. Suddenly, he seems like Neku again. So on top of the character development we can know and assume he has had, he’d probably sound really normal to us in his head. Things like his characteristic snark, his internal logic for doing things, and his feelings about being isolated from everything he cares about for three years must simply be hidden away from us and the other characters.

Stage Three is remembering how much disdain Neku originally had for insincerity or fake-ness.

That brings us back to just... how much our current Neku exists and bends to suit the story of NEO, as opposed to being an extension of his previous self. Before, Neku hated how people would pretend, and pretend to be friendly (though he’d conflate the two.) Now I have to assume that Neku is pretending himself. There was supposed to be middle ground here related to opening up, I thought.

Now is it possible for someone to do a 180 like that? Certainly! But it’s another form of development we can’t actually look at the source for, in NEO. We don’t have the evidence to know Neku is this way through any natural, watsonian means. We only have the doylist side, the things we can see. We can only feel the author’s hand, and it pushes us towards trying to write Neku’s actual character ourselves. Do the work to make it make sense ourselves. If you’re still around, that’s what you’re doing.

Because no one understands NEO. This extends beyond Neku, but it’s really severe with him because sometimes when you see a characterization mishap like this you can at least interrogate the story for what good it did. If you do that for Neku in NEO there’s not much to come back with. What’s one of the themes of NEO? Oh, like being proactive, and self determination, and thinking for yourself and that stuff right? Then surely it makes sense for our beloved previous protagonist who we dragged back into this story to return to a life he actually had no active part in building for years. He’s been written for NEO’s convenience, not NEO’s good.

Maybe the worst part is that even when acknowledging that we can only put bandaids onto this situation, none of them can really be satisfying. Sure, I can try to make this cohere with Neku’s existing character arc, but the answers that make the most sense are always going to be the ones that suck. You take what we have for Neku and all you get for working with it is like. Fret’s arc about bein real? Minus the narrative resolution, minus the foundations in the narrative for resolution, plus more narrative baggage. Or a story where Neku feels more at home in the UG than the RG. Or a story about coping with the nitty gritty unreality of reality rewriting, or imposter syndrome, or trying to make up for a time in your youth you can never really get back.

I’m rambling at this point but it makes it really painful to look back at where og TWEWY left off, doesn’t it? Enough that i lost count of how many times i thought about writing a post like this. It’s the kind of thing that’ll bum you out no matter how interestingly you spin it.

[voyeur-clairvoyant]

oh. Oh. OH 😮

Death is painful, the Tower is violent, the Hanged man is punishment (usually). Hello? I’m not gonna say which book I’m learning from (unless you ask?) but the keywords associated with the card are pause, surrender, letting go, new perspectives?? A invitation to welcome these ‘pauses’ with open arms and surrender to the ‘what is’ – even if it is different from what you expected???

And. So. Punishment, huh? There is a post of yours, something about a why and what. I wish I could find it, but you where going on about why read. And how to. Or something like that, I didn’t click the link you shared at the time unfortunately, and lost it. But I realized just now that I started my half assed journey with the intention of gaining clarity, of dismantling my delusions and clearing my confusion’s; and, uh, somewhere along the way I settled with being coddled and soothed. What now? How do I know where to look? Thank you for the soft call out and please help, please

Oh! I think I know who you are ahhasa. First than anything I need to apologyze, sometimes I express myself in an unreasonably intense way. I'm sorry for that.

Back in business. Here I talk about the Hanged Man with a little bit more detail. Now, I have to make an aclaration: Yes, the allegory of the Hanged Man is an act of punishment but I was being dramatic when I wrote that hashas. In a day-to-day reading it's a possible interpretation but often it ends up being (in my readings) obstacles, someone who's "hands are tied", being incapable of doing something, frustration, negligence, etc.

But how do I know this range of possibilities? From cruel punishment, to treason, to BDSM? One of the issues with the current way of teaching/learning tarot is that book lists of meanings work as riddles: Instead of explaining you the nature of the Allegory so you can derivate your own 'meanings', they tell you 'all the things that it could be' without context and expect you to make it somehow work.

Look it this way, if I tell you that something is:

Small

Red

Some legends say it caused a war

Green

Could make you fall

Yellow

Could inspire you to revolutionize modern physics theory

Bitter

Other legends say it is the reason of all wars, deaths, diseases and suffering in the world

Sweet

Full of liquid

Some people think it has razor blades inside

Another legends says they could make you young forever

Nice to make a pie with

Could you guess what I'm talking about? (It's an apple 🍎 btw hashasa)

You learn a bunch of keywords surrounding the card and then mix them into a more coherent collage but you never get to actually understand the origin and interpretation of the card itself. Once you understand it, you don't even need to memorize a hugh ass list of meanings.

I'm not saying that the keywords are wrong or that it's "rotten work" ahshasa. Everyone has their own practice, HOWEVER, in order to break the rules you need to know the rules, and while there exist many ways to read tarot based in centuries old traditions, some of them were born because people had no idea what the hell was illustrated in the cards so they had to work with their own interpretations. We have Internet now, so even beyond the massive volume of New Age and RWS culture, there's no excuse to never learn about the origin and history of the tool itself.

Like, literally ahsahsa. Go to the Tarot page of Wikipedia and learn about the history of the deck. That's a good start. Learn about how older decks depicted the arcana. I can give you some sites, but that's the tip of the iceberg and by NO means I'm anything remotely similar to an expert GOD FORBID hahsahshasasa. The real work is to ask "WHY?" and pull the thread from there.

For example: "The Moon means secrets"... but why? Is this corrrect? What else could it mean?

First, what is the Moon? The Moon is the natural satellite of our planet, it's made of rock and it's floating far in space. It doesn't have a natural light, but reflects the light of the Sun. And seems to grow and diminish it's surface. It's visible in plain day, but has its own realm in the night. It's opposite face is never visible.

That's not even touching the card, that's just about the Moon itself. We can extrapolate that it shines with the light of others, that changes its face and it's quite distant. Just with that you can describe a person. "One face is never visible" so it could be related to secrets.

We can't talk about the Moon without talk about the Night. To really underestand the nature of the Moon we need to campare it with her brother, the Sun. The mighty Sun that makes all things visible with its light. The day is the place of social activity, common work, house chores. In the other hand, the night is the realm of sleep, sex, party, dreams, nightmares. No one robs a house in plain daylight. The streets that are full of people by the day, are dark and empty at night, dangerous, silent. Even your house, so common and well known, growls and makes chilling sounds once the Sun sets.

Think about other myths about the Moon. What about the full moon and the werewolfs? The creatures of the night. What about the the goddesses of knowledge, wild and fertility. The myth of Endymion, who fell in love with the Moon. What about the nature of the Moon as a monthly calendar? The pacific watcher of all sleep, sweet dreams and nightmares.

The Moon casts a light over the world, but is that the same light that kills doubts and shadows of the Sun? Back into the card itself:

In an actual reading you are not juggling ALL what the Moon is because it's a fucking lot hahsasa. "The Moon means secrets" is a reductive statement. Far more important is to see what the card could represent in the reading itself, rather than jumping to any keyword. Usually we see in the lobster/crab something that 'crawls from the deep' and all what it could be in the context of night. (It's actually the crab from Cancer but that's another story involving astrology and more bullshit hashas).

In an actual reading the Moon could be from a lightbulb to something under the table or "done in the dark". It depends, but the analysis works derivating knowledge from the allegory and the card illustration, not the other way around.

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm I know some people that make stuff in youtube but they all speak spanish. Another excelent place to start is reading Tarotwheel. This site is a fucking wonder. And of course, study about the Middle Ages to have context around the cultural craddle of Tarot.

I feel bad that you're falling down the spiral ahshasa, I'm really sorry and I hope you can find all your marbles soon.

You can also read this other post I made about the RWS because I think it could be useful too.

[justadragonn]

tw mental health - need to put some words to things

this med was supposed to make things better. caplyta, if anyone is curious. all it does so far is wreck my sleep schedule, triggering depersonalization and derealization. i can barely form coherent thoughts - this post alone is taking everything i have to write. im spending the majority of my time unable to process the fact that i have a physical body, and once i do start to process it i have a breakdown about the burden that it is. i wish dysphoria was my only problem. moderate to severe joint pain, nerve pain, and connective tissue pain. flare ups as a result of some unknown illness. i have to dissociate from my body or ill go insane, yet doing so is having the same effect. i look at the world around me and realize its all animated. at least inside my home things feel comfortable, but the moment i step outside everything feels wrong, the colors are off, the framerate stutters. the people all lie, not an ounce of truth to their interactions, all pretending to be people, but im the only one who can see through it. outside of my bubble, nothing feels real, and i fear how i will react when the bubble pops and it too becomes foreign. maybe one day ill wake up to find the past few weeks never happened, i cant ever be sure anymore. i dont even know what day it is most of the time. and it wont ever get better, not really, not permanently. it always comes back, and its worse every time, and i have long since lost the will to keep going. i dont know how much longer i will last.

[imfagentsworld]

You must be strong 'cause the show must go on - To my favourite Mission Impossible series

Just got back from watching Dead Reckoning Part One for the third time. It's like I've been to ilsa's scribbled funeral all over again. I had promised I would watch all the different formats when MI7 is released. Now I just can't stand it anymore. I've tried my best. It is just too much of a mess.

I remember having a great time at the theaters when "Rogue Nation" and "Fallout" came out, watching one five times and the other seven times. Loved it every time and never got bored. At the time, I thought, this is my favorite movie series. Life had something to look forward to and get excited about, and I could endure any pain to live, just to see it return to the big screen again and again.

In 2019 Tom announced on Twitter that McQ would go on to direct MI7 & 8, and I remember everyone being happy that knowing it would be in good hands. That news was like insurance for the series. Yes, "No one knows Mission Impossible better than McQ", "Rogue Nation and Fallout proved how wise it was to choose him", "Tom + McQ, sure to make another hit! " Words like these filled the social networks and we all thought we would continue to witness more miracles. It was a promising time.

And then the pandemic began. The world was plunged into isolation, stagnation and chaos. Every country and everyone went through a difficult time. In the second half of 2020, all the movie crews postponed or shut down, only MI7 continued to film under Tom's leadership and persistence. Every day I posted on-set photos and news, and continued to follow the filming of the movie. They were the only light in those dark days. Tom and the entire cast and crew exemplified the spirit of Mission Impossible in action, wrote an odyssey in the modern world. They are my heroes.

The release date of the movie was postponed several times because of the pandemic. In the years when tens of millions of people have lost their lives to covid, that postponement is worrying. "Will I live to see the day MI7 hits theaters?" "What? It's postponed again? Are we going to dodge death for another year?" Mission Impossible had meant so much more than a movie to me. It became my motivation to live.

We all go through times of despair, especially when you in front line and face people's deaths head on every day. Stress, anxiety, depression, and a growing epidemic with no end in sight, make you want to end all this suffering once and for all. Whenever that happens, I think to myself, hang in there a little longer, at least until MI7 is released, don't give up. By that faith, I survived. So I'm grateful to them. They unintentionally saved a lot of lives, another heroic feat for sure.

With the filming of the Venice scenes underway (there were lots of fans and locals milling around every day while the crew filming in Rome and Venice), rumors that Ilsa would die gradually spread, yes, back in 2020, if any newer fans didn't know. At the time we didn't think there was anything to worry about, it wasn't even real. How could McQ do such a thing, he loves the character so much. And in 2023, here we are, LOL.

Anyone who has seen the movie knows that there are clues that hint at the possibility that Ilsa is not dead. With Ilsa's smirk, the look that Alanna gives Ethan, Luther's words, and even Gabriel's pained expression when he stabbed Ilsa, you can find a lot of proof. It's not that I can't accept a storyline where Ilsa dies, even if she dies for real, as long as her death is worth it and not so scribbled and out of character. This should not be at the level of the MI series, nor McQ. That's what really frustrates and pisses off MI fans and audiences.

There is no doubt that the epidemic has seriously affected the filming and production of the movie, resulting in higher costs and less coherence. But still, A director/writer is responsible for it. I'm reminded of Tina Fey joked about her second time hosting the Golden Globes, "Because it's Hollywood, if something kinda works, they'll keep doing it until everybody hates it." Each installment of the MI series had a different director, which is a great tradition. When it comes to McQ it's an exception. Maybe they should have changed director after Fallout's success. Or maybe don't force in a character like Grace and have everyone set her off, make room for her, crown her, and ultimately cause the movie to go off a cliff like a runaway train.

I will always love Mission Impossible, no matter what. It's part of my life. I will always go to the theater to support it and promote it. But the facts are out there, it wasn't good enough, it didn't live up to the expectations of the fans, and people are allowed to point out the reasons why it messed up so that the next one can be bettered. To all the MI fans and audiences who have been hurt by Dead Reckoning Part One, I want to say: You must be strong 'cause the show must go on, this is not the end.

The actors' union strike has left a lot of uncertainty about the MI8 filming. But isn't that what Mission Impossible is all about? We improvise and overcome one difficulty after another, to ultimately complete the mission. Out of thousands of variables, the outcome will be different because of even one small change. What would it do if there were an Entity? Maybe it would say, give me a Grace and I can rule the world. Hahaha, sorry for the last Dead Reckoning joke (or maybe not).

I also believe in a parallel universe where Ethan and Ilsa live a happy and peaceful life. Please have faith in our secret agent couple and have faith in your life. "Nothing above love, in the end we have each other."

[blughxreader]

Hello friend! May I please request yandere Damian Wayne (or Al ghul if you do that) with just a little cinnamon roll for a darling. I like to imagine he meets them at the dog park and she falls in love with Titus first😂. Have a good day/night!

Yandere!Damian Wayne x cinnamon roll Reader

Oneshot / fem reader

It would probably take running into you a few times for Damian to really be interested. He’d always see you at the dog park, and by the pleasant conversations you always seemed to be having with everyone, he knew you were a regular here. You’d be doing various things, either weaving flowers into your dog’s collar, walking along the edges of a park with a furry entourage at your heels, or just basking in the sun.

Your expression was always soft and open, your body language without tension. There was something about seeing you so untouched by the cruel grip of the world that eased some of the sorrow in Damian’s heart.

Damian made trips to the park with increasing frequency, and each time, he stood closer. At this point, he had already combed through all of your social media posts, transcripts, residences, and more, and he was eager to fill in the gaps of his knowledge with real-life interaction.

Damian watched you, making sure you were facing away from him, when he pulled out one of your shirts. How had he gotten it? Snooping in your room, obviously. It would have been so disappointing to take an interest in you only to find you were actually an agent or assassin, so Damian broke into your place early on.

He held the fabric to Titus’s nose and let him get several whiffs before he shoved it back in his bag.

“Find her,” Damian said, voice only loud enough for the two of them.

Titus shot off at full speed, barreling at you with unrestrained eagerness. You looked up just in time to see a great dane’s snout inches from your face before the dog body-slammed into you. The two of you flew sideways, your back smacking the ground and ejecting all the air in your lungs.

Oh fuck. Perhaps he miscalculated—he could hear your collision from across the park.

Damian took off at full speed, leaping over park dividers and animals with the fluidity of wind. He swore at himself for the oversight, knowing he was going to have to conduct an extravagant plan in order to be on your good side again.

“Titus, down!” Damian’s voice was sharp enough to cut glass.

Titus’s head shot up and he crawled off instantly, allowing you to breathe at last. Damian was on you before you had the chance to stagger up, guiding you to your feet with a firm grip on your arms.

You were dazed and covered in dust, not making a coherent noise past “oww,” but Damian couldn’t take his eyes off you.

His heart was alive with jittery excitement so potent he feared it was written plainly on his face. Damian schooled his expression as his mother taught him, but the shaking in his fingers couldn’t be helped.

He dropped his hands from you as you gained a footing, and he was already counting the moments until he could hold you again.

“He’s,” you searched for the word, trying to laugh off the pain, “friendly?”

Damian tried to speak but his voice came out a pitch too high. He cleared his throat, feeling dizzy as your smile grew.

“He’s eager to meet people,” Damian said, looking you up and down. “Are you hurt? I can reimburse you for your outfit.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “No, I’m fine. And these are just my dog park clothes.”

Damian nodded. He knew already.

Your gaze dropped down to Titus and you made a pss-pss noise. With a slight nod of permission from Damian, Titus stood to let you let his head.

Hope wasn’t lost after all.

“Then let me take you to lunch as an apology.”

You looked unsure. He recognized the half smile you did when you were nervous, and he quickly continued.

“I promised Titus a hamburger today.”

You laughed and accepted, and Damian knew he had to spend the rest of his life with your smile directed at him.

Raise your hand if you want to be toppled over by Titus 🙋‍♀️ and Damian EEP

Thank you for the ask!! It was so cute and fun 💖💖💖💖💖 ask box open!

[ymiwritesstuff]

Lack of You | Ch. 4

Hey hey sorry this took so long, been really busy BUT this chapter is so far the longest one, so I hope that’s enough to make up for the slow update schedule. This one has a lot of flashbacks, which means more Childe action! And a certain other character will be making a minor appearance. Hope you enjoy!

Genshin Impact

Yandere!Childe/Tartaglia x Fem!Reader

Summary: The terms of the contract were set in stone, and the past was quickly becoming a blur. The time spent in Liyue was healing you significantly, but some pain still lingered.

Notes: Abuse, angst, gaslighting, obsessive themes, yandere themes, reader is getting better and Zhongli is there lol

Ch.1 | Ch.2 | Ch.3 | Ch.4 | Ch.5

Also posted on AO3!

18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

“Mama! I found him! Quickly!”

The reflection in the mirror never stared back at you, your eyes too occupied with trying to treat the fading marks of abuse on your skin. The ointment you had been given on the very first day of your chaotic arrival had done its job fairly well. Daily application of the pale substance had reduced the color and size of the vicious bruises that only served as a grim reminder of events you wished to forget.

And you almost had.

What occurred during those months had become but a thick fog of uncertainty in your head. Only small images and lingering tingles on some parts of your body remained. You could barely recall anything from a few months ago coherently, and even when you tried to, just for the sake of a simple test to see how much you could remember, your mind drew a blank. 

Perhaps you should have been happy about the lack of recollection. After all, in the core of your being, that’s what you coveted. A blank canvas you could fill with colors as you desired.

Yet the recurrent images of those horrible things you experienced would flash in your vision under different circumstances. When you caught people staring, when your fingers brushed against the darkened marks on your shoulder, or just before you woke up from a nightmare. 

All these things awakened a sense of qualm in the pit of your stomach, and likely triggered parts of those misty memories that your consciousness unknowingly attempted to shield you from.

“Oh, my dear boy! We were so worried about you!”

How long had it been?

The 14-year-old sat still on the snowy ground as his mother cradled him in her protective arms, eyes distant and dull like the depth of the abyss he had fallen into. 

His battle-hardened gaze lacked its usual sparkles of curiosity, the young boy’s expression rid of the brightness that once adorned it. The worried looks and cries of his sisters went unnoticed by him, his mind too lost in his newly found desires of a warrior.

Until a voice brought him back.

“Are you okay?”

That’s when his eyes found their target.

The feeling of your fingertips making contact with the bottom of the jar as you scooped the last bits of product pulled you to the surface of the strange memory. Your brows frowned as you looked down at the now empty jar you held with a strangely strong grip. You sighed. You’d have to ask for more.

Your eyes scanned your body through the mirror, the ointment on your skin glistening under the warmth of the lanterns. You looked healthy enough. You had regained your appetite, some of the light had returned to your eyes and you felt a lot better physically. The marks were slowly fading. And so too were a fraction of the memories plaguing you.

Donning the long-sleeved shirt you had gotten rather familiar with over the past week or so you stepped out of the bathroom of the medical facility for hopefully the final time. Mr. Zhongli had arranged a much-anticipated meeting with you, no doubt related to the new home that you still had a hard time believing. 

The contract was on your mind constantly. Whether it was due to an underlying enthusiasm or the dominating paranoia, you didn’t know. All you knew was that it was a necessary step to take if you wished to leave your past behind fully. A daunting task that loomed over you, but so very necessary.

You hadn’t seen Shu since your outburst some days ago, and you secretly wished you didn’t run into her today either. You subconsciously avoided her out of sheer embarrassment at your actions. The way you snapped at her when she only spoke the truth and tried to help you weighed on you more than you would have liked to admit. It was stupid, childish and you wished you had the courage to apologize.

With hurried steps fueled by anticipation, you left the medical facility behind, hoping to get your life back in order.

“The Fatui?”

He nodded at you, the woe in your gaze worsening when you caught him grinning.

“Father’s decision.” He strolled around the room, eyes glimmering in what you could only think was some sort of excitement. “Quite brilliant, don’t you think?”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. The boy before you, once so frightened and hesitant, had become obsessed with battle, obsessed with the chance to fight the strongest of foes all the while wearing a smile so frighteningly fierce it made you shiver. Your childhood friend, who had caused butterflies to flutter in your core so many times, had completely changed in those three days he had been missing.

It made your stomach churn.

He glanced at you, seemingly noticing your unsure expression as he quickly approached you, taking a gentle hold of your hand.

“You don’t have to look so sad, (Name).” He smiled at you. So genuinely it almost made you forget everything. He ran his thumb across the skin on the top of your hand, looking into your glossy (E/C) eyes with a tender gaze of his own.

“I know how you must feel but trust me when I say that nothing has changed.” He gave your hand a squeeze. “Nothing between us has changed.”

His easy smile dug itself into the depths of your heart and made it flutter. His eyes, while dull and almost lifeless, still looked at you so earnestly it almost tore you apart. His words carried by his voice with utmost gentleness reached your ears and echoed in your head. 

“...Will you come back?” You carefully asked. The Fatui had always awakened a sense of suspicion within you but perhaps, much like his father thought, the strict military detachment would help him deal with his hunger for battle. 

Still, despite his sudden shift in demeanor, you cared for him, and the thought of him being away from you broke your heart.

His smile widened and morphed into something more reassuring. Bringing your hand to his lips while keeping those azure eyes on you caused you to crack the tiniest of smiles at him.

“I’ll always come back.”

And you believed him.

The crimson stairs creaked lightly under you as you made your way to the designated place. You never expected your new home to be beyond the lavish-looking stairs that were sprinkled across the harbor. You were nervous, but for the first time, it wasn’t out of irrational fear. The pit in your stomach tingled in what could only be described as… excitement.

It felt strange. To feel something so normal after what had happened. You wondered if you could allow yourself to feel something as mundane as excitement. However, you couldn’t deny the strange warmth that spread across your being the more you thought about the fact that you were indeed going to have a home of your own. You were healing.

Once you reached the end of the stairs, it didn’t take long for you to notice the familiar figure standing in front of the door that no doubt led to the apartment you would inhabit.

“Mr. Zhongli?” You called out, grabbing the gentleman’s attention who quickly turned to you.

“Ah, (Name). How are you?” he greeted, that pleasant smile that had gotten etched to your memory from the very first meeting decorating his features. You gave him a small smile of your own.

“Better each day,” you answered honestly, the need to hide behind an invisible wall fading the more you spoke to him. 

It had only recently dawned on you that you didn’t need to try to conceal everything that had happened to you. Especially from someone like him. He was the one who found your unconscious body on a rainy day after all. Shu’s words tended to come back to haunt you whenever you thought about it, and it made you feel all the more guilty.

“I am most glad to hear that.”

There was a sense of relief on his face as his warm smile somehow got even more hospitable. After your last fateful meeting during which you signed the contract, you had seen glimpses of him through the windows of the facility you had stayed in. He would be working, talking to citizens and merchants, each time with the most thoughtful expression gracing his face.

Your eyes would glue themselves on him, that peculiar aura that surrounded him pulling you towards it in the most bizarre way. His lips would move as he spoke, and though his voice was mute, you could still feel the pleasant waves of his speech as you had during your previous meeting.

Something flickered in your core whenever he would glance at you, those golden irises housing something other-worldly in them. His eyes, they were almost inhuman with their warm radiance and the sharp edges of his lashes. You could swear you had seen them glow a couple of times.

“Shall we?” 

He placed a confident hand on the handle of the wooden door and turned to you. He seemed pleased with himself, his fulfilled expression being the most obvious sign of his satisfaction. You had no clue what your new home had in store and the content smile of the mysterious gentleman was making you feel like it was so much more than you could have ever even dared to hope for. It made you almost anxious, but you remained composed and gave a confident nod.

Mr. Zhongli opened the door for you, inviting you in with his graceful hand and calming voice: “After you.” You could only smile for a split second as a response, the warm lighting of the interior inviting you in.

With careful steps, you entered, holding your own hands and keeping them close to your body. Your heart raced, this time not because of fear, but rather of a refreshing nervousness that was eager to see the place you would call home. 

Your eyes scanned the place. It wasn’t too sizeable, perfect for a single person. The decor was elegant, with lit lanterns adorning the walls, doorframes, and the low table right in the middle of the living space. The warm brown color of the furniture was welcoming, and the gold trim of the bedsheets you could see behind an intricate folding screen added a sense of richness and luxury you had never seen anywhere you had ever lived.

The front door closed behind you, but your senses failed to pay attention to it, as your awe-struck eyes glued themselves on perhaps the most astonishing element of the apartment; a balcony. An open, welcoming balcony.

You instinctively walked towards it, the red railing matching those of the stairs littered all over the harbor inviting you in. The fresh breeze coming from the vast sea hit your face as you made it outside, gently placing your hands on the wooden railing. Below you the bustling locals walked by, going about their days amidst the falling leaves. A strange feeling attached itself to you. Like a part of you deep inside lit up like the most strong-willed candle. Your eyes followed the hurried movements of the people, glanced at the street vendors and their commodities, and got lost in the busyness of the harbor.

In the most bizarre way, it brought you comfort. You heard the shouts of business and the laughter of children, it was such a hard contrast to what you had gotten used to in the icy nation ruled by a God with no love left in her cold heart. Everything was so alive, so warm.

Your curious gaze reached the sky, the wind blowing at your hair slightly. The sky was clear, clearer than you had ever seen it. It made you wonder if such heavy rainfall that befell the region on the evening of your arrival was even possible. The only visible clouds were distant and faint like they had no intention of reaching the harbor in the first place.

A content, yet quiet sigh left your lips on its own as you tried to comprehend the scene before you. For the first time since your arrival, you could briefly grasp what you once had. You allowed yourself to close your eyes and just bask in the warm and serene feeling.

Behind you, the courteous funeral parlor consultant watched and noted how your entire body relaxed at the freeing sensation of the harbor. He held his tongue, not wanting to disturb your moment of peace. He could not contain the smallest of smiles but at the same time, his golden eyes were framed by an expression of condolence. 

The man was intelligent enough to read the way you silently reacted to your new place of residence, the way you relaxed as if a massive weight had been at least partially lifted from your weakened shoulders. It was far more telling than words could have ever been.

Curiosity poked at him once again, but he did not dare to cross an unwritten boundary you had set the very moment you locked eyes with him. He could only hope that this little arrangement of his could alleviate your lingering torment.

After spending some minutes just observing with his keen eyes, Mr. Zhongli finally joined you on the balcony, which fortunately brought you back from your floating thoughts. You stood up straight and turned to him, the words of gratitude at the tip of your tongue.

“This…” Glancing back inside, you attempted to find the right words that drifted in your head and bring them forward. You could only let out a sigh as no words could even come close to accurately describing how utterly blessed you felt. 

“It’s so much more than I could have ever imagined."

Your thoughts were an incoherent mess, and somewhere a part of you knew Mr. Zhongli was aware of it. Perhaps you could covertly see it in his knowing smile. The more you let your thoughts wander while trying to express your appreciation, the heavier they became and soon the burden made itself known.

“Surely this is too much.” Your voice died down. It was so difficult to believe. This beautiful apartment was to be your home for as long as you wanted, which you were slowly starting to believe was forever. A deep, amused chuckle was what you received in response.

“As per our contract, I was to provide you with a long-term place to stay in. A place to call home. And this,” He pointed to the interior that you still had trouble believing was real with his gloved hand. “Is precisely what was agreed upon.”

You listened as he spoke, the terms of the contract coming back to you with his words. It made so little sense to you and coming face to face with the embodiment of those terms that favored you so ridiculously did little to lessen your confusion. The home was beautiful, too beautiful, and it was given to you so selflessly for free. 

“Right,” you replied, acknowledging the truth in his statement.

In the midst of your thoughts, you shook your head very slightly. The reality of the situation was overwhelmingly favorable for you, and you merely had to accept it. Easier said than done, you thought.

“I apologize for getting into professional matters like this before you have even properly settled in,” Mr. Zhongli suddenly began, and you followed him indoors, closing the sliding balcony door behind you. He then turned around to face you.

“But I have an errand for you.”

That caught you off guard. Already? If you were honest with yourself, you didn’t expect to be fulfilling your end of the contract so soon, and the apologetic look upon the brunette’s face told you that perhaps he did not either.

“Oh, what do you want me to do?” You asked, admittedly curious about what Mr. Zhongli had planned for your first task. His shoulders seemed to relieve some of the apparent tension that you could not see upon hearing your response.

“I need you to make a delivery for me.”

You gave him a slow nod with a quiet ‘oh’ as you took in his request. It seemed simple enough, just the kind of errand you were expecting him to trust you with. However, there was a sense of urgency in his warm eyes, it was incredibly distant but you somehow managed to catch it.

“A delivery?” You inquired, to which he hummed softly. 

“To whom?” 

Surprisingly, you noticed him breaking his rather unflinching eye contact with you for a moment so brief, that if you had blinked, you would have missed it. Furrowing your brows ever so slightly, you waited for his answer. Surely, the recipient couldn’t have been anyone but an ordinary citizen. Perhaps someone from the funeral parlor?

There was a short moment of silence that was only filled in by your thoughts until he spoke:

“Are you familiar with the adepti?”

~

The fallen leaves at your feet prompted you to look up at what was possibly the largest cuihua tree you had ever laid your eyes on. The sun's rays disappeared behind the massive building resting on top of stone and wood. Your eyes followed the turning water wheel and the moving elevator that reached the very top floor of the impressive construction. 

Wangshu Inn.

Liyue was yet again surprising you with its beautiful architecture and landscape. The warmth of nature’s colors never failed to amaze you and the inn itself was so intricately built you wondered if it was even made by regular people. You internally thanked Mr. Zhongli for dispatching you here of all places. The way to the inn was fairly short, located just north of the harbor, but you would have gladly taken a trip to a further location if a scene this stunning awaited you. 

You glanced at the package in your hands. It was a neatly wrapped box with no outside decorations on it. The contents were light, they weighed almost nothing. They were however very important to the being you were to deliver this small box to. You just had to find this adeptus first.

Mr. Zhongli had kindly told you that there was no need for you to depart on your small journey immediately upon request, despite the small sense of hurry in his gaze, as he most likely wished for you to settle in properly first. You had however assured him that you had no objections to making this delivery immediately. Upon learning of the contents of the box, it became even more clear to you that it was for the best if you did not delay your first errand.

It was but a simple task, yet seemingly vital to this adeptus.

Your knowledge of these otherwordly illuminated beasts and gods was limited, having only heard of them through the whispers of distant stories. Mr. Zhongli was more than happy to share his knowledge of them with you. They protected Liyue, and had done so for many millennia, they were blessed with powers beyond a mere mortal’s understanding and were somewhat isolated from people. And yet, you were about to meet one of them. You had to admit, you were slightly nervous.

Stepping out of the elevator that led inside, you noticed a woman standing behind a counter, eyes glued to what you assumed was paperwork. That must have been Verr Goldet, the owner of the inn, as Mr. Zhongli had told you. He had advised you to ask her about the hidden adeptus’ whereabouts upon your arrival.

You approached the counter after taking in a breath to calm your nerves. This was your first time out of the harbor, your first time interacting with someone that wasn’t Mr. Zhongli or Shu. Realistically, you had nothing to be afraid of, but you could not deny the anxiety in your core.

Verr Goldet looked up from her work which brought an end to your turbulent thoughts. She most likely either heard your footsteps or saw you from the corner of her vision. The owner was quick to put on a smile.

“Welcome to Wangshu Inn. How may I help you? Do you need a room for the night?” Her kind demeanor thankfully washed some of your nervousness away almost immediately. Typical innkeeper, kindness was always good for business, you thought.

“Ah no,” you began, quickly stopping at the counter and placing your hands on it. “I am actually looking for the Conquerer of Demons. I was told that he resided here, where could I find him? I have a delivery for him.”

Verr Goldet’s eyes housed something akin to surprise in them. As if you had used the correct password to gain entry to a place full of secrets. You assumed she was not expecting you, a person she had never seen before, to ask about an adeptus right off the bat like this. Despite the fact that you hadn’t been given all of the details, you were quite sure that not all people were privy to the fact that the inn housed an old god. There was a feeling of secrecy you could not explain surrounding Wangshu Inn.

“If you wait over there,” she pointed to her right, to an open balcony that provided yet another wonderful scenery with her eyes, and continued: “he might show up eventually.” Her statement puzzled you.

“He might?” You asked and the owner gave you a chuckle.

“He stays away from most mortals and travels around the region on his own. He might show up, or he might not, just have to wait and see.”

You glanced at the wooden balcony and nodded slowly. “I see.” Admittedly, you did not expect your errand to go in this direction, you certainly didn’t think you’d have to wait for the recipient,  but you were determined to finish your task.

“I will wait for him then. Thank you,” you said to the blonde woman who gave you a nod of her own. As you began to make your way towards the balcony you heard her yell after you:

“If you get tired of waiting, be sure to get something to eat! We have a wonderful selection of foods! Oh and if he takes too long you can always stay the night here, our rooms are most wonderful!”

You mentally rolled your eyes at her advertisement but briefly glanced at her with a smile. It was admittedly obnoxious, but you understood her motives. Liyue was all about mora after all.

The view from the massive balcony was incredible. You were so high up and you saw so much, it was almost overwhelming. You hadn’t even realized how late it was, the sun was rather close to the horizon, which you weren’t sure how to feel about. You only hoped that this Conquerer of Demons would show up soon, you weren’t too fond of the idea of walking back home in the darkness of the night.

You placed the box on the railing, eyeing it and running your fingers along the edges as you got lost in your thoughts. You hated moments like these. Moments when you were left alone with nothing but your mind. It wandered too much and too far, and though it had partially forgotten the things that had happened, they still pained you. There was always something at the back of your head, a horrible feeling that would evade you when you tried to search for it and remember it. But it was always blurry and unclear.

How was it possible?

There was a grueling silence in the room but you could practically feel your rapid heartbeat as a pounding sensation all the way in your head. The piercing sound of the urn breaking as it hit the floor was still ringing unpleasantly in your ears. He had tried to pursue you too fast and in the midst of his almost animalistic anger caused the ornament to fall. The broken fragments lay in pieces at his feet and the shock of the impact seemed to be enough to deter him.

You thanked the Archons for that.

Your eyes stared at him, alert gaze ready to catch any attempts to get to you again, though a part of you was more than aware that you could never outrun him. He was tearing you apart with his dull azure eyes that were still somewhat alive, but only when they were boring into you like this. It felt like he was stabbing and strangling you at the same time with his expression alone. It made you feel sick.

And yet, there was some resemblance of conflict in his gaze, maybe even remorse. As if he had just been snapped out of this obsessive trance that was slowly taking over. It felt like he became a different person entirely, nothing like the carefree and charming boy you once knew. His expression was challenging to read, and you could only hope he wasn’t losing himself.

Still, you were terrified. The unhinged flame in his orbs you had seen just moments ago was burned into your mind and still flashed in your vision. You were frozen, trembling, and feeling as if you were drowning. You tried to remain calm, but your rueful attempts did nothing to conceal the visible fear in your eyes. And he saw it.

“I was told you were looking for me.”

The stern voice behind you made you jump, embarrassingly much as it pulled you away from the distant memory that had set off rather suddenly. The sun had not yet ventured behind the horizon. Thank goodness. You chided yourself for zoning out like that and promptly turned around towards the unknown voice. Your eyes fixated on the short figure in front of you, taking in his appearance.

His dark hair that was on the shorter side swayed slightly in the natural winds of the region, the bright undertones on the tips almost glowing under the setting sun. His posture was firm, almost taut as if he was always prepared for a vicious battle. The adeptus looked at you with a sharp and tense gaze, his golden irises practically burning into you. Your own eyes shifted to the tattoo that ran around his right arm and the bizarre-looking mask at his hip. He had an air of danger about him as if it was following him wherever he went. Yet, he was calmly waiting for you to start speaking. You swallowed nervously.

So this was an adeptus. He certainly looked the part.

“Y-yes. I was asked to deliver these to you.” You held the box in front of you and after a brief moment of contemplation, took a few tiny steps towards him. He stayed quiet, which promtped you to continue, just to avoid a moment of discomforting silence. “From Mr. Zhongli. They’re um…”

“Remedium Tertiorum. Painkillers.” He finished your sentence effortlessly, it surprised you somewhat. He must have gotten this specific medicine in the past as well, you assumed. You nodded.

“Yes, exactly.” While you were admittedly curious about why a millennia-old mighty adeptus like him would need such strong painkillers, you did not intend to pry into the matter any further. If anything you understood better than anyone that if you were to ask for more details, it would only serve to make him uncomfortable. You were here to merely deliver these painkillers to him, nothing else.

The adeptus took in your slightly tense body language that you tried to somewhat conceal. He watched as your hands lightly trembled while holding the box and noticed the way your eyes would sometimes glance at the wooden surface below your feet. He didn’t blame you, it was clear that you had never seen an adeptus like him before, but he also questioned why Zhongli would send someone like you to do this task. It was a brief thought that he did not indulge for long.

He took the box from your hands with surprising carefulness and looked into your eyes once more. “Give Mr. Zhongli my regards,” he spoke, voice steely but soft at the same time. You managed to maintain eye contact with him as he continued:

“And thank you for delivering these to me.” The adeptus retreated from you and turned around, most likely preparing to leave the inn as he so often seemed to do.

“It was the least I could do, Conquere-”

“Xiao. Call me Xiao.”

That was all he said before he disappeared, leaving behind a small mist of anemo that faded away soon after. You stayed still for a brief moment, processing the speed at which the exchange had occurred. There was a lot on your mind, curiosity most of all. For an adeptus, Xiao seemed so… solemn. One could sense his ethereal nature that told he was an illuminated beast, but his demeanor lacked something that you expected from an adeptus. Was it a sense of pride? Honor? You didn’t quite know.

The sun would set soon. You had to start making your way back home before it was too dark. Walking back inside, you said your goodbyes to Verr Goldet and approached the wooden elevator.

~

The night and its tranquil darkness gave your new home a totally different ambiance. The lanterns were still lit, but they warmed the interior in the most comforting manner. You lightly chuckled at yourself as you looked around from the front door. You still could not believe it. You probably couldn’t believe it even if you ended up living in Liyue forever. The whole region was so warm and welcoming, far more than your homeland could ever be. 

You had been saved, you had been taken care of, you had been given a place to stay, and for what? More than anything, you wondered why. Why had you been blessed so much? Was it Rex Lapis who was giving you his guidance and grace? You barely thought any good of the archons, only because the only one you had ever known was so cold and cruel like the harshest blizzards.

You knew you had to just learn to accept the good things, accept that this was a positive change in your life. Yet, you knew he was somewhere out there. Perhaps that was why it was difficult for you to let go and fully embrace the change. You tried your best to push the thought away, that was partially why you had agreed to finish your errand today, but he managed to crawl back into your head, either through a flashing image of his deadly eyes or an echo of his laugh.

In the midst of your thoughts, you hadn’t even realized that you had begun to wander around the apartment frantically. This wouldn’t do. You realized that you needed to do something productive, and opted to put out all the lanterns throughout the living space and prepare for bed. It wasn’t much but it would at least give you something else to think about.

You walked around, stopping at every lantern and killing their warming flames. As the room got darker, you started to miss the solace the light provided. Even during your time in the medical facility, there was some light, a distant lantern somewhere. You’d have to leave one on for tonight.

As you looked around to decide which source of light to save, your eyes caught something on the low table in the very center of the room. A neatly wrapped package, and a note. You frowned your brows. Had you completely missed it upon entering?

Curious, you made your way to the table and immediately picked up the note, the contents of which were written in beautiful handwriting.

Dear (Name)

I hope you’re enjoying your new apartment, I’m sure Mr. Zhongli picked a really nice one. I’m really happy you finally got a proper place to live in, though I do miss seeing you at the medical facility. So, why don’t we go for tea sometime? Or whatever you prefer. You know where to find me! Also, I left a little something for you, just to help you get started.

Sincerely,

Shu

As you read the neatly written letter, your lower lip began to tremble and you almost let the impending tears fall from your eyes. You weren’t sure what to think. Your mind went back to your last interaction with the kind nurse and immediately thought of just how rude you had been to her. It haunted you, and yet, you had just read a letter in which she invited you for tea as if nothing had happened.

All this time, Shu had only wanted to help, and she had. More than you could have ever asked for. Even now, she had given you a present of sorts. You looked at it, how nicely it was wrapped and even decorated with ribbon. Curiosity overwhelmed you and you went to open it, carefully tearing the wrapping away.

Your eyes widened at the contents. What lay before you were everyday items, such as a hairbrush, a few towels, some clothing, just about everything you could need while living on your own. 

However, what caught your eye the most was a familiar jar. The one that contained the same ointment you had used to treat your wounds all this time. The same ointment Shu had given to you on the very first day. You stood still, trying to make sense of all this. Her kindness touched your heart and for a moment, you felt all your worries melt away. You felt hopeful.

Your eyes scanned the opened package, the reality of the situation settling in. This was real. This wasn’t another false image created by your corrupt mind. You were safe. You were home.

You let the tears fall, but you smiled as you did. A genuine, heartfelt smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, and you might have even let out a laugh or two. Because for the first time in what felt like an eternity, you felt truly alive.

Taking a shirt from the pile of clothes, you held it close to your heaving chest and let out what was probably the longest sigh you had ever let slip from your lips. The silence wasn’t crueling, but rather comforting. Still, you broke it, setting free a silent whisper addressed to whatever being might have heard you.

“Thank you.”

~

Your lover stepped over the broken urn, prowling towards you so painfully slowly, that it made your entire body taut. You did not dare look back at him, for you knew that the only thing in your line of sight would be that unnerving, mad glow in his eyes that was beginning to haunt you. 

With your back against the wall, you felt trapped. You were trapped. The dread that you felt in the pit of your stomach spread across your entire being when he lowered himself to you, that burning, lifeless glare digging into you. He could feel your shaky breath, see your frightened averted gaze and nearly hear the way your poor heart crashed against your chest. It roused something in him.

He almost cracked a smile.

A hand at your jaw was what finally coaxed you to look at him, the tightness of his grip making you wince. His other arm he held against the wall behind you, further reducing the scalding distance between you.

“Have you learned your lesson now?”

The torturous silence was finally broken and immediately you wished it hadn’t. His voice was eerily calm but at the same time, you knew he was holding back, trying to rein himself from another violent outburst. How had it come to this? What had happened to him? You could not understand and you only wanted things to back to how they used to be. Your heart was being ripped into pieces and the man before you almost seemed as if he was striving for it.

You could only nod, your fearful and chaotic state of mind not allowing for anything else. This did not please him, however, as he shook his head lightly, like a disappointed owner of a pet. His grip tightened.

“Use your words.”

His tone, now more demanding, sent bleak shivers down your spine and you felt like you were about to faint. You looked for your voice somewhere deep down, wanting nothing more than to escape from this horrible situation.

“Y-yes.”

The eyes before you softened and for a split second, you saw a mere glimpse of the man you had fallen in love with. His hand changed from the brutal hold on your jaw, to a gentle caress of your cheek. The sensation was familiar, comforting even and you hated it. However, your frightened being yearned to feel his hands on you so tenderly, so you embraced it and subconsciously leaned your weary head against his hand.

He let out a sigh, a tired, long sigh before bringing his lips to yours. You partially relaxed into the kiss, briefly forgetting all about your previous distress. Your fragile heart ached for him, despite everything and he knew it. Somewhere in your being, you wanted to hate him, but at the same time, a part of you stayed hopeful that things would go back to normal. It was a vicious cycle of him slowly corrupting you, and comforting you, entertaining that part of you that only craved his love.

Once he pulled away, he smiled at you, your eyes failing to catch the wickedness in his grin. He was reeling you in once again, you knew it, but that thought failed to reach its destination. You fell into his arms, exhausted, defeated, and so oblivious to reality. Your lover laughed to himself, encasing you in his strong hold and humming at your state of fatigue. You were breaking.

“That’s it. Good girl."

~

Support me on ko-fi!❤️

[weirdsht]

Pledge - Cale x Reader

a/n: writing is kinda fun, but im too lazy to like learn more so i can write better sdfiusdgfikmdbv

Warnings: mentions of death, some details about it too, angst?, can be seen as romantic or platonic

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

If there's something missing in the warnings let me know so I can add it

Any form of interaction toward the post is appreciated <333

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Nonstop tears flowed from your eyes as you stared at the man in front of you. The man that was separated from you without a warning, without a fight. The man you swore to protect was now right in front of you once more.

Broken sobs of “I’m sorry” and “Is this real” can be heard. Trembling legs finally lost their strength and you kneeled in front of him. 

“Why are you saying sorry? I’m the one who should be apologizing for causing your death”

Try as hard as you might, only sobs and other incoherent sounds are the only thing willing to come out of your mouth.

You know that you’re the one who died. You know that at your last moments, you still kept your oath of becoming his sword.

But you also know that you left him alone.

Regrets and sorrows that filled your entire being hurted more than the claw that pierced and tore your body back then. No physical pain can ever compare to the emotional turmoil gnawing at the pit of your stomach.

“But I promised to become your sword. I promised to protect both physically and emotionally and I failed. That whole thing could’ve been avoided if I didn’t got caught up in my emotions and rushed back there”

Finally after a few moments coherent words are coming out. Although blurry, you can see Rok Soo, no Cale’s face dropped a bit. You might not have any mind reading abilities but you can guess that he was thinking about that day. The dreadful day where he lost the people he treasured against a single monster.

Cale finally started to move. His previously still figure stride towards you and knelt down to wipe your tears with his handkerchief. 

“The past is the past for a reason, there’s no good reason to ever dwell on it. Just focus on the present okay?”

Although his voice had its usual nonchalant tone in it, his soft gesture tells you everything you need to know.

So you composed yourself. This might be a different world, a different life for you and a different body for liege but you must still continue your pledge.

Drama can wait later. Right now an important matter needs to be addressed. Personal issues will be talked over when this whole thing is finally finished.

“I’m sorry for getting off track. Yes, I currently serve the White Star albeit against my will. I can help you and your group. But I must warn you, as I directly serve him he might catch on quickly. Though I’m sure he can’t get rid of me easily, my abilities are too valuable for him to do that.”

That’s why you composed yourself, it’s the only thing you can do right now. You need to show your liege that the years you’ve been separated amounted to something. That you’ve grown and are less likely to do the same mistake you did in your first life.

And even without explicitly saying it, Cale understands. How could the man know you the best not read your intentions? How could the person who you shared an unbreakable bond with not know what you were thinking.

So he also composed himself. As if the emotional scene didn’t even happen Cale returned to being the strong commander the continent knows him to be. 

“Yes let’s get back on track”

He might have said simple words but the look on his face was different. His serious face told you everything you needed to know. All his intentions and promise of getting you out of your current predicament can be seen by everyone as clear as day.

[simonsnowichooseyou]

This excellent essay was posted by @goodbyedandelion and reposted on Instagram—however their account sadly seems gone now. But it is in rememberence of their Tumblr spirit that I post a continuation to their essay!

EVEN MORE Reasons Why Carry On is so groundbreaking as a YA Fantasy/Romance

Misconceptions/Character Complexity

A large topic in YA Contemporary is gossip, but I feel like fantasy doesn’t touch on this as much. Think of how others perceive one another in Carry On. Early on we learn that Simon, for example, saw Penny as different because of her race. But of course, we quickly know this isn’t true.

But what about Agatha? In Harry Potter, for example, Lavender Brown and other feminine characters are often looked down upon because of their femininity. We often as a culture perceive beauty as overcompensation for what’s inside. Sometimes Agatha is looked at in the same light in Carry On, but when we see things from her POV, we realize that Agatha is perhaps the smartest one there. Maybe she’s not Penny Bunce-smart, but she has the survival instincts that Penny lacks.

Agatha isn’t the only one. Baz looks cold and unfeeling from others’ POVs, but we quickly learn that he is a boy with a soft heart that’s been hardened by his past. Everyone thinks he cares about nothing but we know he cares about his mother and how she’d feel about him; his father and step-mother and siblings; Simon, of course; Bunce, in his own way; he even cares about flowered suits and dramatic entrances! We think Bunce is nerdy and perhaps annoying, but we learn she’s very sweet and like a mother to Simon. And the mage. Ugh, the mage. We think he cares about Simon but we learn that for every bit he cares about Simon, he cares about the war more.

Rowell doesn’t allow any character to be simple, stereotypical, or as they appear. My sister, for example, was saying that Baz sounded like a stereotypical gay man in the media. But he’s not, is he? He might love fashion but Rowell does not make him simple or stereotypical. Everyone is so complex, and she uses the multi-POV to not just show us their complexity but also the complexity of how they are viewed by others.

Woman on Woman Drama/Anger

For years and years, only one woman was allowed to have a true seat at the table in films. Take Indiana Jones, the original Avengers, and Star Wars for example. This woman was often made to be the sex appeal or romantic interest, but I’ll save that for another day. Because of there only being one spot, it set a precedent that women in media needed to fight with each other to take that spot, thus depriving us of women getting along!

At first, I was worried Rowell had fallen into this trap. Bunce thinks Agatha is simple and too feminine, Agatha thinks Bunce is a major pain in the ass. Their dislike for one another is complicated in that they’re essentially two different types of feminism battling it out, and half of their fight was about Simon and their roles in his life.

But in the end, Penny and Agatha create a relationship that exists outside of their relationship with Simon. Penny sees Agatha’s strength and resilience; Agatha recognizes Penny’s harsh exterior for what is is. When Agatha moves away, they text without his even knowing. Penny is the one that decides they need to check on and save her. In the end, penny and Agatha fight alongside one another.

Rowell didn’t just give us a feminine friendship—she showed us what we’ve been doing, and how to get from Point A to point B. I think it’s the most underrated part of the series.

True Friendship

It might sound bad, but I truly believe a lot of today’s media ruins the idea of friendship. I just feel like none of the portrayals are realistic. Friends are either joined at the hip and have never fought (toxic) or never get along (also toxic). The fact that Baz and Penny and Simon and Penny and Agatha and Penny can get into fights but still continue to love one another platonically is really heartwarming to me.

Trauma/Mental Illness

I remember getting to the end of Harry Potter and thinking “he went through all of that and we’re just supposed to leave him now?” We see some remnants in the most cursed play ever: The Cursed Child. But more than trauma we see someone who looks back on the days they risked their life everyday with *longing.* While that’s about the most Harry Potter thing Harry Potter has ever done (and the most canonical part of that play) it’s so unrealistic. You’re telling me Harry grew up with nothing and was an amazing father—minus a few spats with his son. You’re telling me Harry was able to hold it together emotionally after fighting for his life from ages 11-18 without a therapists help? You’re telling me Harry lost two father figures in the ministry of magic AND spent 7 years going through what amounted to a lesson titled “the government is corrupt” just to be a part of that government!?

Wayward son isn’t like that. Wayward Son shows us what happened to Simon afterwards, and it’s not peaches and cream. He had therapy, he quit therapy. A lot of us have been Simon on that couch, and we all needed the Baz in our life to drag us across a metaphorical America. Wayward Son is hands-down my favorite book. Realistic depictions of mental illness, check. Subverting our expectations of after the end, check. Reading it feels like taking a road trip, check.

As OP mentioned, Simon is a beloved chosen one because he’s just so wrong for the role. He’s not levelheaded where he should be, he’s bold in all the wrong places, he couldn’t possibly maintain a professional relationship with the coven. Meanwhile his super-hot enemy Baz was the absolute perfect choice to be chosen, but he was completely passed over. And part of this chalks up to how Simon became so powerful—fate isn’t twisting its whims this way and that. Simon is only chosen because he was a Petri dish experiment-gone-wrong baby. When Simon asks the fates why, really he should be asking the mage. There’s something delightful about the fact that Simon was made. The chosen one was made, and in the same process, so was the greatest threat.

De-escalation

I think it’s clear by now that Carry On is a great book, Simon Snow is an amazing series, and Rainbow Rowell sure can write. But I feel the need to point out that the end of Carry On wasn’t well-received by everyone. I recommend the series to everyone I know and some people are really disappointed you don’t get a big magical battle at the end. Some people think Simon filling in the humdrum was a cop out. But I disagree. I felt it was thrilling to witness a book where war was as stupid in fantasy land as it can be in real life. This is the first fantasy I’ve ever read where they find a better way to handle conflict than senseless fighting. It’s emotionally rewarding, to me, to see de-escalation. To see conflicts fixed before they start to be huge problems. It was a risky choice for an end, you have to admit. But Rowell pulls it off amazingly.

Nothing is Wrapped in a Bow

A day will never go by without me thinking about the fact that Simon Snow Salisbury doesn’t know who his parents are. Or how Baz will never know what exactly happened with his mother—whether she really ended herself to avoid vampirism and whether she would’ve done it to her too. We’ll never even quite understand the mage’s plan behind fix the humdrum and get an all powerful boy wizard on his side. Rowell doesn’t wrap everything up. She gives you closure as often as she gives you something to ponder. The ending of Harry Potter was so controversial, I think, because it spelled out so clearly much of what was happening. And what you didn’t learn in that epilogue, Rowling released later through Pottermore and interviews. That’s fine and dandy—but there’s something to be said for ending Simon Snow’s books with questions. Not infuriating questions but rather things that I’ll always ponder—that will shed new light on different situations depending on how I look at them. Rowell sets a precedent that you can fill in Simon’s world with your imagination while also reminding us that life doesn’t have endings. Not really, the way books to. Rowell is one of the few writers of today’s fantasy, I’d argue, who’s okay letting things go unanswered. There’s always a thread of fantasy and magic going. It’s something that will keep Simon alive in my heart for many, many years to come.

So yeah, that’s what I think about when I think about Simon Snow. It’s not nearly as coherent as the original post but I hope you enjoy it.

[penn-dragon]

I’ve been getting a lot of notes and followers for my parksborn stuff recently so I thought I’d post another hashtag WIP i never finished

This was based off of a dream I had where Peter and Harry were dating but Norman found out accidently and ended up forbidding Harry from seeing Peter, so Peter just started showing up randomly to kidnap Harry off to dates and stuff so they could keep seeing each other in secret. I wrote a pretty long ficlet that goes with it that’s partially bittersweet parksborn and partially Norman being a terrible father tw for child abuse and homophobia under the cut

Harry turned his head, Peter was watching him with a heavy expression, green eyes radioactive in the setting sun. Slowly, Peter reached out and took his hand, thumb grazing over his knuckles.

“I miss you, Harry,” he said softly.

“I know,” Harry answered, not knowing what else to say.

“I miss seeing you all the time, and hearing about your day. I miss playing video games, and watching movies, and kissing you in the dark.” Peter hesitated, taking in a short breath. “I miss not having to steal time with you.”

Harry closed his eyes, feeling each word like a stone settling in the pit of his stomach. Knowing how much Peter was hurting because of his mistake, because of his family.

“I miss it too, Pete.”

Peter brought Harry’s hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. A smile curled against his skin, genuine, but laced with something painful.

“Sometimes I think we should just run away together.”

Harry chuckled, smiling to mask the way his heart clenched painfully at the suggestion.

“You’d never leave Aunt May like that.”

“No,” Peter agreed, “but it’s a nice thought, right? Leaving to go somewhere where no one knows us and we can just be together.”

“Yeah,” Harry sighed, “it’s a nice thought.”

For a moment, they were silent. Harry watched the sun sink to kiss the horizon, just drinking in Peter’s weight against his side and Peter’s gloved hand still wrapped around his own. 

Peter shifted, and his other hand came to rest against Harry’s cheek, gently turning his face towards him. His gaze burned hot with emotion and Harry could do little more than close his eyes as Peter leaned in to kiss him. It was a brief kiss, just a second of warmth and pressure before Peter was pulling back. It wasn’t enough.

Harry’s hand slid to the back of Peter’s neck, pressing lightly to pull him back into a deeper kiss. He lost himself in the feeling of Peter’s lips sliding against his own. He didn’t want to think about his father, or his rules, or anything outside of Peter’s arms around him. Here in this single moment they could be anyone they wanted, and they could be together. 

They stayed like that until the sky turned dark. Laying together and exchanging kisses like they were the only two people in the world. And Harry sent a quick prayer of gratitude to the heavens that no catastrophes called Peter away, because in that moment he would have rather watched the world burn to ash than let Peter out of his arms.

“Harry,” Peter whispered against his jaw. 

“Mm?” Harry hummed half-coherently, more preoccupied by what Peter’s mouth was doing than what he was trying to say.

“I love you.”

Harry opened his eyes, and for a moment he just stared up at the inky black sky. You couldn’t see many stars in New York, but the ones you could cut through the light pollution with a purpose, shining through the haze. He turned his head, forcing Peter to pull back so they could look at each other.

“That’s okay right?” Peter asked. “It’s okay for me to say that?”

“Of course,” Harry breathed. “God, of course it is. I love you too, Peter.” 

Peter’s eyes shone in the flickering candle light, a brilliant smile creeping onto his face. It was small, soft, but, God, the depth of the emotion there threatened to drown Harry. He leaned forward to kiss him again. Peter sighed against his mouth, sliding his hand to the back of his neck and Harry wished desperately that they were somewhere more private, alone and comfortable, so he could show Peter exactly how deeply he loved him.

—-

Harry slid quietly into his dad's office, closing the door behind him as he stepped forward into the empty space.

“You wanted to see me?”

His dad was standing by the windows behind his desk with his back facing Harry. His hands were folded neatly behind him and he called out to Harry without bothering to turn around.

“Take a seat.”

Harry hesitated before complying, moving into the room and pulling out the chair placed opposite his father’s desk and lowering himself stiffly into it. He didn’t like the energy sitting stagnant in the room like rancid water, didn’t like his father’s lingering silence as he stared out at the city below them. 

Finally, Norman unfolded his hands, breaking the long silence abruptly.

“You’re still seeing him.”

Harry’s entire body went ice cold, like he’d just been dunked in freezing water. 

“No—” he denied weakly, “I’m not. I— I haven’t seen Pete since December.”

Norman turned abruptly, a deep glare set in his brow, like he’d been waiting for Harry to speak, waiting to see what he would say.

“Don’t you dare lie to me, Harry.”

He turned fully, not giving Harry any time to respond before he slammed something down on the desk in front of him. As his hand peeled back Harry’s eyes sunk to the item he’d left behind. 

It was a photograph. 

Of him and Peter. 

They were in the mouth of an alleyway, out of sight from pedestrians as Peter kissed him chastely. Harry immediately recognized the moment from last night. When Peter brought him to a picnic on a rooftop and told him he loved him  between kisses under the stars. 

“So,” his father’s voice began, low and dangerous, “tell me again who you haven’t seen since December?”

Harry’s eyes remained glued to the photograph. He felt like a voyeur on his own life, looking at this frozen version of himself, wistful but content as Peter kissed him goodnight. Someone had been watching them. 

“You were having me followed,” he forced out. Not a question, but a statement of fact.

“Of course I was.” Norman’s voice snapped above him. “I knew I couldn’t trust you to obey my decision, so I made arrangements.” He picked the photo back up, holding it between two fingers like it was something filthy. “Judging by the results, I was correct.”

Harry felt nausea rise in his throat. That a night so sweet, so raw with emotion between them had been polluted, like someone carelessly tracking mud on a white carpet. 

“You had no right to have me followed.” Harry hissed.

“I had every right.” Norman retorted, pressing his palms against the face of his desk to lean down to Harry’s level. “You’re my son, and it’s my job to keep you out of trouble.”

“I wasn’t in trouble!” 

“What I don’t understand,” Norman continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “is why you continue to disobey me.”

“Because I’m in love with him!”

Norman scoffed, and the sound brought Harry’s blood to a harsh boil, fingers curling into a tight fist against his thigh.

“Love.” Norman spat the word like it tasted vile. “What could you possibly know about being in love, Harry. What could you possibly get out of a relationship with that boy.” 

Harry didn’t miss the way his father refused to say Peter’s name, hadn’t since he caught them together so many months ago.

“Shut up,” Harry hissed.

“What?”

“I said shut up!” He stood, chair screeching across the floor as his abrupt movement forced it back. “This isn’t about Peter!” Harry snapped. “You refuse to even acknowledge it. The reason you’ve been doing all this is because you don’t want a faggot for a son!” 

“Harry,” Norman hissed warningly, but Harry was seething, the words spilling out of him faster than he could process. 

“Well, guess what, Dad, I’m a fag reguardless of whether or not you keep me from seeing Pete—”

The crack of skin hitting skin rang out. Harry’s head snapped to the side, cheek stinging hot where Norman had struck him. He turned back slowly, moisture gathering in the corner of his eyes as he glared up into Norman’s furious expression.

“Harry,” Norman hissed, “you will not speak to me like that!” 

Harry flinched back, gritting his teeth and hating how instantly the anger burning in his chest withered into fear. Norman sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and turning back to face the window, a false profesional calm falling back over him.

“It doesn’t matter what you are,” he finally continued, lacing his hands together behind his back in a frustratingly haughty way that told Harry the argument was drawing to a close. “What matters is what people see. You are my son, the heir to this company, and you need to behave as such. I don’t want to see this company fail because people refuse to do business with… someone like you.” 

The words slid between Harry’s ribs like a knife, cutting deep into his flesh. He knew. He’d known since the moment his dad opened his bedroom door. Yet hearing the words spat out like that stung more than a slap to the face. Harry’s throat grew tight, and tears burned in his eyes. He swallowed painfully past the lump in his throat. Even if he’d had some response, he wouldn’t have been able to say it.

Norman sighed again.

“Just get out,” he said. “I don’t want to look at you right now.”

Harry looked down at his shaking hands, hating how his vision blurred with unshed tears. He turned on his heel and left the office, letting the door slam shut behind him.

He just walked. 

He left the building without a word, picked a direction, and moved. He forcefully shut down his thoughts, focusing on the rhythmic pattern of his own footsteps and the cacophony of city life surrounding him as he moved. 

He had no idea how long he walked for. Only that when the sound of footsteps echoing his own drew him out of his head, he had no idea where he was. Harry turned on his heel, coming face to face with three large men approaching him. The one on the left had a patchy beard that looked like he plucked at it habitually. The one on the right had obviously skipped leg day because his arms were disproportionately large compared to the rest of his body and for a moment all Harry could think about was how much of a field day Peter would have if he was fighting these guys. The largest one, the obvious ‘leader’ of the group, stepped forward. He had grimy pale skin and greasy hair slicked back against his skull. 

“What’s a pretty-boy like you doing in a place like this?” He asked planting his hands on his hips like they were having a casual conversation and his two friends weren’t trying to subtly shift in order to flank him.

“Nothing,” Harry answered shortly, drawing his hands out of his pockets in case he needed to respond quickly. “Just passing through.”

“You got a couple bucks?” He asked, sliding one hand in his pocket. “Me ‘n my buddies need to buy some smokes.”

“No,” Harry answered honestly, he didn’t stop to grab his wallet before leaving. He also hadn’t bothered to grab anything akin to self-defense and he was kicking himself for that now.

“Yeah I bet, Osborn.” The man gave a sleazy grin like he’d just caught Harry in the middle of a lie. “How much you got on you right now?”

“Nothing.” Harry turned out his pockets to reveal the empty lining inside. “Can I go now?” Harry turned to leave. He knew it wouldn’t be that easy, but he was still startled when a meaty hand wrapped around his arm and yanked him back.

“Not so fast, Osborn. You’re still a good meal ticket.” Greasy Hair pulled him around, holding tight to his wrist as his two friends, Ratty Beard and Gorilla Arms, closed in around him. “I bet Daddy would pay a pretty penny to keep you in one piece.”

The mild irritation in Harry’s stomach sparked into a flame, hand curling into a fist. Before he could think about the consequences he pulled  his arm back and threw a punch. His fist connected against the man’s jaw with a satisfying crack and he reeled back in shock, releasing his grip on Harry’s arm. 

A flurry of action broke out at once. Harry spun around to dodge a blow from Ratty Beard, pushing forward to cinch his hands behind the man’s neck, yank him down and drive a knee into his stomach. The air left his lungs in a harsh exhale as Harry shoved him back to knock him off balance.

Someone grabbed him from behind, pinning his arms to his sides and the side of Harry’s head exploded in pain as Gorilla Arms landed a solid hit against his face. Harry planted his feet, forcing his head back as hard as he could to crack against his attacker’s face. The back of his skull throbbed in pain, but the arms around him released as Greasy Hair stumbled back, swearing and clutching his bloody nose. 

He’d never been as good in hand to hand combat as Peter was, but he tried to scrape together what Peter had taught him as he faced down the other two men and dodged blows best he could. He got another solid punch against Ratty Beard’s face before he was yanked back by the collar of his shirt, knocking him off balance.

Greasy Hair shoved him against the brick wall of the alley, twisting his arm behind him. His teeth scraped against the inside of his cheek as his head hit the wall with a bone-shaking thud and the acrid taste of blood spread through his mouth.

“You aren’t bad in a fight, Pretty-Boy, I’ll give you that.” His voice was thick from the blood gushing out of his nose and his grip pushed painfully tight against Harry’s arm. “But I am going to tear you to pieces.”

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you ganging up on people is wrong?”

The familiar voice cut through Harry’s haze of anger like a bucket of water dousing a flame. There was a distinct thwip of a web and the weight holding Harry in place was ripped away. Harry winced as his arm was yanked in the wrong direction but given the free space, stumbled back away from the wall. 

“Don’t worry, I’m sure the police will let her know all about it.” 

There was a scuffle, and the sound of pitiful yelps as Peter took down the thugs before they could even fully process what was happening.Harry couldn’t help but admire the quick work Peter made of the men. Even as his stomach twisted into knots waiting for the moment Peter’s attention returned to who exactly he was saving. 

“Hey, are you okay.” 

Harry spat a glob of blood out of his mouth, turning his head just enough so he could see Spider-Man standing there, strong and perfect.

“I’m fine.”

He watched Peter’s body go rigid with recognition and turned fully to face his best friend. 

“...Harry?”

Peter’s voice was soft, and thick with disbelief. He wasn’t exactly addressing Harry, just letting the name fall from his mouth in confusion. Still Harry answered,

“Hey.”

Peter snapped out of his daze and rushed over to Harry.

“Jesus, are you okay?”

His hands fluttered over Harry’s body as he searched for damage and instantly he wasn’t a superhero anymore. He was the same dorky Peter Parker Harry knew and fell in love, and it was enough to almost bring the smile back to his face.

“I’m fine, Spidey.”

The use of his other name brought him back to himself. He straightened up, slowly pulling his hands away from Harry like it was the last thing he wanted to do. 

“I— Hold on, let me take you somewhere safe. Um, lemme just—”

Peter turned around, stooping down to pick up an unconscious man from the ground. It was the leader, the one who’s nose Harry broke. Peter dropped him where the other two were webbed up, maybe being a little rougher than he normally would. He took a moment to make sure they were all securely webbed up before making his way back to Harry.

“I notified the police to come pick these guys up. Let’s get out of here.” 

He gingerly wrapped one arm around Harry’s waist, watching him closely like he was checking for any sign of pain or discomfort. 

“I’m fine,” Harry insisted, wrapping his arms around Peter’s neck.

Peter studied him for a second longer before finally shooting out a web to stick at the top of one of the surrounding buildings and pull the both from the ground.

Harry closed his eyes against the nauseating blur of the city passing by and the swooping of his stomach with each drop as Peter carried him to a safer location. 

When they finally alighted gracefully atop a random building and Peter pulled his arm away, Harry had to take a moment to steady himself with a hand on Peter’s shoulder.

“I hate traveling like that,” he groaned, pressing a hand against his forehead. “I don’t know how you do it every day.” 

“It’s not as bad when you’re the driver,” Peter said lightly. His tone was softer, more careful than usual and Harry’s stomach immediately dropped like they were still swinging off skyscrapers. “Harry, what are you doing? Why were you walking alone in a neighborhood like this?”

Harry swallowed hard past the painful knot forming in his throat. 

“My dad found out about us.”

He watched the whites of Peter’s mask widen as his body went rigid.

“H— How?” He stuttered. “We were so careful—”

“He was having me followed,” Harry explained. “The guy got a picture of us last night, when you were dropping me off. I saw it when my dad was confronting me.”

Harry watched the eyes of Peter’s mask narrow, a crease forming between his brows. 

“Did he hurt you?” 

Peter’s hand gently grazed over what was sure to be a nasty bruise on his jaw, and Harry remembered the stinging pain of a slap and sharp words slicing through him.

“No,” he answered, reaching up to take Peter’s hand away from his face. “This was all those guys.” It was only half a lie.

He could feel Peter’s eyes on him, even through the mask.

“Did he kick you out?”

“I—” The words stuck in his throat, everything that happened suddenly rushing in and crushing the apathy he had wrapped around him like armor. “I’m not sure—” His voice broke, and he pressed a hand against his mouth as he crumpled in on himself and a sob wrenched itself from his throat.

“Oh, Harry—“ 

Warmth enveloped him as Peter’s arms wrapped around him to pull him against his chest. Harry returned the embrace, digging his fingers into the back of Peter’s suit like a lifeline as he buried his face in Peter’s shoulder and cried, loudly and openly. 

One of Peter’s hands stroked his back, the other reaching up to run soothingly through the hair at the back of his head.

“I’m so stupid,” Harry forced out, his voice hoarce and thick with tears. “I should’ve known he was having me followed. I should’ve—” he cut himself off as his throat tightened, threatening to tip him back into a sob. 

“No, I was being careless.”  Peter said, his hand stilling against Harry’s hair. “I was so caught up in wanting to be with you, I didn’t care about the consequences. I should have listened to you.”

“I didn’t want you to,” Harry admitted, turning his face into Peter’s neck. “Every time I told you to stop I was praying you wouldn’t listen to me.” Harry pulled back just enough to look at him. At some point Peter had taken his mask off, and his eyes shone bright with unshed tears. “The thought of you appearing out of the blue was the only thing keeping me going.” 

Peter smiled, lifting his hand to wipe the tears off his cheeks. 

“Then I did my job.” His smile fell slightly. “I don’t want you going back there. Can I take you back to my house?” With a slight smile and a tilt of his head he added, “We’ll take the subway.”

Harry huffed out a laugh, reaching up to take Peter’s hand and twine their fingers together.

“Okay.”

The New York subway at night was a liminal space all it’s own, so no one paid much mind to the teenage boys with red swollen eyes and tear tracks crusty on their cheeks. And if their hands remained firmly clasped together for the entire trip back to Peter's home in Queens it was no one’s business but their own.

[aminiatureworld]

Affection II

Characters: Childe, Ganyu, Kaeya, gn!reader

Word Count: 5,577

Warnings: None

Premise: Sometime we know something is impossible from the start. But still we walk towards it, even if we know it will hurt us. It’s only flirting, only a smile or a hug or some food. Even if nothing comes of it, there is nothing to regret. Even if it hurts.

In which the reader gives affection, expecting nothing in return.

Author’s Note: Evidently I’ve really missed writing these properly. I had such a great time writing, and I hope you guys enjoy these just as much as I did.

Also I’ve decided the version on Ao3 will now always be without bullet points, so if you prefer that format the link will be in the reblog.

Childe

You’d been floored by Childe pretty much since the day you two had met.

What had turned into the two of you meeting had started out a most unfavorable encounter. You’d gone to Lingju Pass, trying to survey some of the carvings of the old structure, and attempting to see the sort of methods used to construct such vast rocky complexes at the time. Unfortunately this goal had quickly turned into a goal of “don’t get caught”, as you’d found the Pass crawling with Fatui members. Though you weren’t nearly helpless, you’d also not come prepared for battle; and had spent most of the “fight” dodging around various blows while trying not to drop the expensive equipment that you’d borrowed from other Guild members.

Just as you’d come to the conclusion that the options were either drop everything and run or get thoroughly injured by a bunch of arrogant Snezhnayan soldiers there was a change in the air. The Fatui soldiers’ expression turned from one of glee to one of confusion, and then one of panic, as one by one a streak of blue began to throw them this way and that. As you regained focus of the terrain your realized that it wasn’t a streak at all but a person, a person who was wildly adept at sword play. Eventually the number of unconscious people had risen to five, and there was no one left but him and you.

“Need any help?”

The words might’ve been kind, had it not been for the smirk on the man’s face. Though you felt that the right answers would’ve probably been to scowl, you found you couldn’t, too wrapped up in the memory of this mysterious person darting this way and that, handling his water-made daggers with the grace of a ballet dancer.

“I’m Childe.” These words finally brought you back to the present.

“You’re a member of the Fatui.”

“I am.”

“Then why did you knock those guys out just now?”

“Boredom.”

You stared at Childe incredulously. Of course you’d heard his name, the man who, it was whispered, almost pulled Liyue into the sea. You’d formed a sort of mental picture of him completely divorced from the redhead now standing in front of you, bouncing slightly on his feet as he smiled cockily. He looked more like a rogue adventurer than one of the heads of a crime syndicate. Maybe that was why you found yourself infatuated, rather than afraid.

This infatuation only grew, fed by the encounters that you had with Childe. It seemed now you couldn’t avoid him, not that you wanted to. What had begun as a chance encounter multiplied into two, into four; soon enough you two had struck up a sort of friendship, one that baffled everyone else around you.

Of course you hadn’t lost all your sense, knowing quite well that the puppy love you were feeling could never be anything more. The way Childe talked about his work, about his duty to the Tsaritsa, made it very clear that he wouldn’t let a partner in his life or in his loyalties. And even if he changed his mind, why would he choose you? You were an adventurer sure, but you hadn’t even been able to properly defend yourself the first time the two of you met, and your oversight of that would’ve surely turned Childe away. Besides, Childe could probably make a partner out of anyone he wanted, if they were foolish enough. Why should that person be you?

Perhaps it was that knowledge that allowed you to be so free in your affection, spurred on by Childe’s own open nature. Hand holding, hugging, leaning one’s head on the other’s shoulder, it was the language of friendship that you two had adopted, and something that you greatly appreciated. There was something nice about a friendship in which one could be so open about caring about someone, without expecting things to go farther. Because you didn’t, you really didn’t. And though that might’ve been a bit painful, it was a small price to pay for Childe’s company.

“I’m going off to Mondstadt for a bit.”

“What?”

You drew away from Childe a bit to look into his face. The two of you were walking along the path towards Yaoguang Shoal, as Childe had taken a particular liking to the Starconches that lined its shores. Now he smiled awkwardly, squeezing your hand and shrugging his shoulders.

“I know, I know. There’s apparently this branch of the Fatui holed up there right now, and I’ve been asked to consult about something, though archons know what it is.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“I’m not sure, I think about two weeks? I’m not sure what exactly is going on, but the troops really must be in disarray if they need me skulking around for the next two weeks.” He let out a awkward laugh.

“I’ll miss you.” You replied, bumping your head into his shoulder and frowning. “It’s very boring without you.”

“I’m sure you’ll be perfectly capable without me.” Childe smiled, one eyebrow raised slightly. “After all, what would you do if I left someday, permanently. You’d have to find a way without me.”

“Let’s not talk about that.” You replied hurriedly, switching the conversation towards something more pleasant. Unfortunately however the words had already been said, and the damage had already been done.

It had been two weeks since Childe had left for Mondstadt, and though normally you might’ve been waiting at the city gates for his return, you found yourself on the familiar road towards Lingju. Childe’s words had been ringing in your ears for the past two weeks, and you’d found the more time passed the more you kept thinking about them.

What would you do if I left someday, permanently. Is that what Childe truly wanted? To leave? The idea made your stomach hurt, as you began once more to run all your interactions through your head, as if trying to find a flaw in the strips of memory you had of Childe. Was that what Childe truly wanted, or was it simply that he was sick of you? When he’d said “you’d have to find a way without me” did that mean he wanted to find a way without you? Perhaps you’d been too forward, too demanding. Perhaps he’d managed to realize your feelings and felt repelled by them. Had it been too much, meeting him almost everyday for some periods of time, eating lunch together and sometimes dinner. What about that time you’d invited him over to your house to play a game? Had that been too much?

You sighed, dragging yourself over the final ridge. Sitting down to take a rest you closed you eyes. You hated that your mind wandered this way, that no matter what you couldn’t help but ask yourself again and again, what had you done. What would Childe think about this sad person laying on the ground, the sad part was you couldn’t answer that question.

The sound of footsteps brought you back to the present, and you let out a suppressed groan at the figures in your line of sight.

“Don’t you guys ever get posted anywhere else?” You rolled your eyes, reaching behind your back to summon your polearm.

“You’re trespassing.” The voice that came out of the Electro Vanguard was so deep and distorted as to be hilarious.

“Lastly I checked you were neither a citizen of Liyue, nor Rex Lapis, so if anyone’s “trespassing” on public territory it’s you.” You sighed. “Oh well. Unfortunately you caught me on a day where I’m somewhat prepared.” With that you lunged towards the Hydro Legionnaire and the fight began.

Fighting when one is already frustrated is both a blessing and a curse. The fight itself was almost invigorating, the first Fatui hit the ground and with it you felt part of your worries fade away, if only for the small window of time which this fight offered. Was this why Childe fought so much? The though crossed your mind as you whirled behind the Pyro Bracer and pressed as much Electro as you dared into the back of his head, tripping him with the staff of your polearm on his way down.

Soon enough there was only you and the Electro Vanguard left. Unfortunately you were beginning to feel the other side affect of anger, that being misfocus. Being more versed in using your polearm as a sort of lightning rod your found the Vanguard much harder to deal with, more than once barely diving out of the way of the hammer he was swinging around, surprisingly light on his feet considering what the weight must be. Your anger was quickly draining, turning into something more akin to panic, and as you found yourself stumbling more and more you realized that today was really, really not your day.

The Vanguard was becoming aware of how fast you were tiring, a gravelly sort of laugh emerging from behind his mask. As you found your with you back to the slope you wondered if it was just worth it to make an escape. The Fatui swung his hammer once more, barreling towards you. Having nothing left to do you put your polearm out in front of you, hoping that your arms were strong enough not to recoil against the inevitable blow. Closing your eyes you thought of nothing, drowning in a sea of panic. If there was any coherent part of your brain it wished that you weren’t here, that you just stayed home, or swallowed you pride and gone to the gate. But it was too late now, and you were about to get hit.

However the blow never landed, instead a loud sound pierced the air. Whipping your arms open you saw the Electro Vanguard stumble, his hammer having been dropped on the ground. He was grasping towards his ankle, in which was stuck an arrow, glowing a faint aquamarine. Swearing the Fatui member glanced around, before stumbling away, dragging his weapon and his left leg behind him like dead weight.

“Some things never change, huh?”

“Childe!” You whirled towards your once again savior, face burning from embarrassment. “I took out the rest of them this time.”

“I can see that,” said Childe, surveying the area, a telltale smirk on his face, “very impressive. Although, if I may suggest, next time try to take out the Electro Vanguard first, especially since you don’t wield a weapon made for pure damage.”

“Is this turning into a teaching moment?”

“Absolutely not.” Childe laughed.

You found the sound catching, and soon a smile spread across your face as you let your polearm disappear once more. You ran up to Childe, and were about to throw you arms around his neck in a characteristic hug, when the thoughts of before came ramming back into your brain. Taking a step back you planted your arms firmly in front of you, hoping that maybe Childe hadn’t noticed what you’d been about to do.

However Childe approached you instead.

“You weren’t at the gate today.” He said coyly, lips drifting somewhere between a smirk and a frown.

“I’m sorry.” You lowered your head. “I just thought, well maybe that would be better. Since you said you might be leaving permanently and all, and since you were right when you said I’d have to figure things out without you, I don’t know, I thought maybe it’d be for the best.”

Looking up the expression on Childe’s face could only be described as one of complete disbelief. For a moment he stayed frozen in place.

“What in Teyvat do you mean I’m leaving permanently?”

“You said that! Remember… when we were going to pick sea shells you said that you were leaving.” You stepped back, cheeks flushed. “Or maybe you were just sort of sick of me or something.”

“Why would you ever think that?” Childe walked up to you, enveloping one of the hands at your side in his own and bringing it up towards him.

“I… I don’t know,” you replied, feeling very confused and very foolish, “I thought maybe that I was being too affectionate, or too clingy. I mean I know you don’t like me or anything like that. And I thought maybe that I was crossing the boundaries of our friendship.”

“I don’t like you? I’ve liked you since almost the first day we’ve met!”

“Not like that! I mean, like like, you know? As in… well, as in I… I love you.” You let your voice peter out.

“I love you too!” Childe let out. Shaking his head he smiled widely. “That’s what I’m trying to say. I’ve liked you since almost the first time we’ve met. I wasn’t trying to shoo you away.”

“What?” Your brain was short circuiting. Something had gone terribly wrong. You’d definitely been knocked out at some point, and was now hallucinating. There was no way Childe liked you, loved you. He could love anyone, why would he love you.

Childe stepped closer, moving so that your foreheads were almost pressed together.

“May I?” He whispered, voice almost shy. You nodded, a just as small “yes” escaping your lips before Childe cut off your ability to say anything more. It was a short kiss, sweet and chaste, and yet you felt everything around you suddenly come into sharp, almost lucid clarity. You weren’t dreaming. This was happening. This was Childe and he liked you. Childe like you. He liked you, he really liked you.

“Why?” You let out, when the two of you separated. Thankfully Childe remained close to you, being without his presence now would’ve been quite lonely.

“Why what?”

“Why me? I’m not, I don’t know, I can’t even knock out an Electro Vanguard without help.”

Childe let out a laugh, lovely as music.

“I don’t know,” he replied, eyes sparkling, “because you’re you. And I like you.”

And all of a sudden you found that that was enough.

 Ganyu

The days that you accompanied Ganyu on her various errands were the ones in which you were most aware that you were on a level utterly below her.

Of course humans could never really measure up to adepti, after all they made the world and humans simply lived in it. Still in terms of humans, well you weren’t exactly pushing exceptional. If Ganyu represented all that was exceptional about the adepti, well then you represented the average human who didn’t like their job and overall went about their day as unnoticeable as an ant on the road.

Of course Ganyu never acted in a way that would betray the imbalance between the two of you. Indeed Ganyu was nothing if not kind, sweet, and utterly without a semblance of hierarchy. It was one of the things that you adored about her, the straightforward honesty she carried with her, and the way that she appeared not to judge living beings on a scale, even if that was the right of those who were higher and didn’t have to worry about said scale.

“Can you carry this for me?” Ganyu’s voice was soft and somewhat hesitant. You smiled widely, knowing that Ganyu simply had difficulty asking other people for help.

“Of course I can!” Scooping up the package that was stretched out towards you, you saw Ganyu let out a short sigh of relief.

“Thank you.”

“Of course! I’m always happy to help you. Where are we taking this?”

“Over to the funeral parlor. It seems that there are some tiles in here that are being used for a specific ritual. Hu Tao said that the family wanted it, I hope she doesn’t actually mean she pushed them towards it.” Ganyu let out a soft sigh. “She once suggested advertising for cremation. Somehow I feel that won’t exactly be welcomed by the people.”

“No one likes to be reminded of their own mortality. Ah, but Hu Tao is doing her best, and if these tiles end up being insulators, I suppose we can’t do much about it. I’ll make sure not to drop them anyways. Getting on Hu Tao’s bad side feels like asking for a prank.”

“You’re probably right.” Ganyu chuckled.

You blushed slightly, loving the way her laugh sounded, soft and open. You knew Ganyu struggled sometimes; she admitted to you herself that it was very difficult to live an existence defined by liminality. Was she an adeptus? Was she a human? She was neither, and yet both would claim her and call her other. In understanding this Ganyu had retreated into herself. Perhaps that’s why her laugh meant so much.

As you strolled down the docks an angry voice cut through the air.

“Qixing!”

Both of you turning around you saw Bolai, heaving slightly, teetering his way towards you. His face was stormy, and for a moment you wondered if someone had stolen something. His words when he caught up however revealed a very different motivation.

“I demand justice!”

“What for?” Ganyu asked, voice deadly serious once more.

“What for? For what Huixin said in regards to me! For the Liyue Qixing complying with disgusting rumors as to the ways in which I conduct my business and my finances. As to the way that you promised to help me then turned on me!”

“I see…” Ganyu sighed as you wracked your brain, trying to remember what she’d told you about the time that she and the traveler ran around trying to detangle various examples of tax fraud. “Have you considered putting up a formal complaint?” Ganyu meanwhile was still trying to keep professional, something that you admired her for.

“How am I supposed to trust the Qixing after what happened? No! I demand compensation now!”

“Sir, I’m sure you’re quite upset, but there’s no need to act in such a way. If you wish to clear your name, then we can meet in private and review the testimony and documents we received. If not, then I’m afraid there is nothing I can do for you. I’m very sorry.”

Ganyu turned back towards the direction in which you two had been previously walking. Evidently too agitated to think properly Bolai let out a strangled cry.

“We’re not finished yet!” Reaching out, he seemed to be attempting to turn Ganyu around by the shoulder. Having been standing there unthinking you now moved to block the action, knowing that Bolai didn’t really mean anything by it, but not trusting the man who looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel. Bolai’s hand instead smacked into the box in your hands, which slipped from your grip and fell to the floor in a great crash.

Time seemed to slow down somewhat after this, as Bolai stepped backwards and Ganyu turned around, face one of evident horror at the scene. You felt your face begin to burn as you looked at the unassuming box, which now looked a little bit the worse for wear.

“What…” Ganyu trailed off. Bolai waved his hands about in a panicked sort of way.

“That wasn’t me! That wasn’t my fault! It was this person they… I don’t know what they were thinking, getting in the way like that. How idiotic! This is nothing but a mess, a disgrace!”

Normally you wouldn’t pay Bolai’s words any mind, but now they seemed to pierce right through, as you realized all the trouble you’d just caused Ganyu. Glancing over towards her you found you could neither look her in the eyes nor stay where you were.

“I-I’m sorry!” You stammered. Moving to pick up the box you found your hand hesitating. Fearing that you’d just make things worse you pulled yourself and dashed in the opposite direction, speeding up the docks and towards the outskirts of the city.

Normally the view from Mount Tianheng was one that stole your breath away. Today however the mountain seemed completely uninteresting, especially when compared to the thoughts racing in your head.

How had you gotten here, how had you messed up so much? Ganyu didn’t need your posturing, your attempt to help. She was an adeptus for Morax’s sake! And who were you? Someone who couldn’t even carry a box from Point A to Point B. And now you’d just caused more trouble for Ganyu, when she already had so much to do.

“I’m such a failure.” You groaned into your palms.

“You aren’t!” You lifted your head at the soft exclamation, already knowing who the voice belonged to. Ganyu sidled up to the ledge of the mountain silently, fidgeting with her hands. “May I sit next to you?”

“Of course.” You replied, grateful that Ganyu was even talking to you. Smiling softly the Qixing Emissary let out a soft sigh.

“I love the view of the city from here.” She spoke softly, eyes on the horizon.

“I do too.”

“There’s something so lovely about watching everyone go about their day, isn’t there? To see the people work in harmony to bring prosperity and peace to the city of Liyue. To see how everyone continues on the legacy of Rex Lapis.”

“That’s a lot to see.” You joked, still feeling a little uncomfortable, as if Ganyu might in a minute get up and leave.

“But can’t you see it?” Ganyu’s voice was earnest and her eyes shined. “It’s wonderful how people do it, how they continue to make this city thrive, to keep the contracts of Morax alive and within living memory.”

“Perhaps it’s just harder for humans to judge it themselves?”

“Perhaps.” Ganyu’s expression shifted into something, almost shy, not quite melancholic. “Just like how you’re finding it difficult to forgive yourself.”

“I’m so sorry Ganyu. I don’t know what I was thinking! I just… I just, wasn’t thinking.”

“You were trying to be kind.” Ganyu replied, something almost akin to blush coating her cheeks. “And I have to thank you for that.”

“But I just caused more trouble…”

“You were trying to be kind,” Ganyu repeated, “like I said, you’re finding it difficult to forgive yourself. But you have to. You didn’t truly do anything that needs forgiveness.”

“But I was doing it for completely selfish reasons!” You blurted out, embarrassment and doubt turning into the words you never wanted to utter. “It’s because I like you, and not just because I was trying to be nice. But because, because maybe I wanted to do something for you, and then maybe I’d be good enough maybe.” Realizing how odd that just sounded you turned your head away. For a moment your words hung in the air, and the longer the silence continued the longer you thought about how utterly selfish you were.

“Thank you.” There was a smile in Ganyu’s voice, and as you turned your head once more you could see it plastered across her face.

“For what?”

“For telling me you like me.”

“But… but isn’t it just burdening you? After all I’m not good enough for you.”

“You are!” Ganyu’s voice was firm. “You’re absolutely good enough for me. And what you did, you call it selfishness, but I don’t understand that. Being kind to people you like isn’t selfish, even if you like them. Because this time you were genuinely helping me. Besides, if that’s selfish then I’ve also been terribly selfish.”

“How?”

“By asking you to accompany me everywhere. Because maybe, maybe I like you too.”

For a moment you wondered if you hadn’t accidentally slipped off the cliff, so weightless did you feel. A bit lightheaded you leaned forward.

“Really?”

“Yes.” Ganyu smiled nervously. Reaching out she took your hand in hers.

The two of you watched the sun set over the city of contracts mostly in silence. Every once in a while there would be a spurt of conversation, but mostly there was nothing but the sounds of the birds and the cicadas, and the pounding of two hearts, hearts both a bit ragged from the events of the day.

For what a day it had been. And how wonderfully it had ended.

 Kaeya

If you could use anything as justification for your crush on Kaeya, he did flirt with you. Unfortunately he also flirted with everyone else in Mondstadt.

“How’s my favorite knight of Favonius?” Kaeya’s cocky voice was clear as a bell, and for a moment your heart flipped as the handsome knight came into view, smile as lovely as it had been the day before.

“Blessed by the presence of our beloved cavalry captain.” You replied in a singsong voice.

The first time Kaeya had used that line on you it felt like your soul had left your body and your heart had run a marathon. Unfortunately you’d heard him use practically the same line on Rosaria the next day, his favorite mysterious nun, robbing you of your fantasy in which Kaeya had any interest for you.

Your banter however was not without genuine feeling. You were utterly infatuated with Kaeya, having fallen for the handsome knight about two weeks into your own training. Originally having been an adventurer you’d joined the knights relatively recently after a series of Abyss attacks on the City of Freedom. As such Kaeya had by then already occupied an exalted position among the ranks, and the hours of being trained, teased, and flirted at by the mysterious cavalry captain had been enough to throw you head over heels.

Not that you’d ever expect things to develop more than they already had. Having a crush on the flirtiest man in Mondstadt did mean that you were praised every once in a while, but it also meant that the praise meant little more than empty words, and that there was always someone else who had heard them. Not that you begrudged those people, not knowing them or not caring. It was Kaeya’s right to be as he was, flirty and irreverent; and you’d never ask him to change that part of himself, or any other.

To do so would be to change the person you’d grown to love.

You trotted up the steps of the Favonius headquarters, opening the door with a slight “oof” before stepping into the cool building. Today was going to be a quiet sort of day for the knights, and you’d been assigned to pick up a few books from Jean’s office to be recorded by Lisa before being sent off to the Church. Going to open the door you paused at the voices inside.

“– saying it’s nothing.”

“And I’m saying that it’s becoming a distraction. I don’t want to control your actions Kaeya, but this pining has been slowing down your work, and we need you as one of our most crucial members to be on top of things.”

“I’m not pining.”

“What do you mean you aren’t pining,” Jean let out a snort, “as if it’s not obvious to everyone around you. Look, I’m not saying you have to break things off –”

“Good, because they haven’t even begun.”

“Then maybe that’s part of your problem. Maybe if you told them you liked them then you’d be able to get back on track.”

“I’m doing my best.”

“You aren’t doing anything. And that’s the problem.”

You didn’t hear the rest of the conversation, having made your way over to the library as to make sure that you were get caught, and to cool your head in regards to what you’d just heard.

So Kaeya liked someone. You shouldn’t’ve really been surprised. Kaeya was a wonderful person; intelligent, good with a weapon, polite, handsome. What person wouldn’t fall in love with him? And when everyone’s in love with you, well, it was unsurprising that eventually Kaeya would find someone who he loved back just as much. Then, why did it hurt?

You fought the urge to wrack your brain for the people Kaeya spoke most about, finding the act beneath you. Still, your mind wandered. Perhaps it was Rosaria after all, or maybe it was only because you remembered her. Perhaps it was the sword smith who came twice monthly to check up on the weaponry. Or perhaps it was the tailor, who could sew anything with the utmost care. Or perhaps it was a musician, or an archivist, or another knight. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

Your head swam and you found your eyes stinging. Now wasn’t the time to cry, not when you needed to honor your appointment with Jean, not when you were somewhere where any one of your colleagues might discover you. Not where Kaeya might walk in any minute and realize what you’d done. This thought finally brought you out of the spiral of your mind. Making sure that any tears that might’ve escaped were wiped away you took a deep breath, steadying yourself before you walked out of the library and into Jean’s office.

Evidently you must’ve looked much worse than you thought, for Jean took one look at you and ordered you home, grumbling about how much trouble there had been recently. You thanked her half-heartedly before making your way out of the Headquarters, heart heavy as lead. At least work would’ve been a welcome distraction.

Arriving home you saw what Jean meant. Though you weren’t particularly teary, your face had taken on an ashen pallor that made it look like you’d either just gotten a shock, fainted, or had suddenly contracted consumption. Letting out a sigh you collapsed on the couch of your apartment. You knew you should probably do something, should eat or work on some extra work or something. But right now you didn’t want to do any of that. You just wanted to forget.

The knock that sounded at your door was extremely unwelcome, and you bit back bitter words as you made your way over to the door. Any protest however was silenced at the sight of Kaeya, hair slightly tussled, expression opaque, on your doorstep.

“Kaeya.” You meant to sound more peppy, but the action felt too tiring. “What’re you doing here?”

“Making sure that you’re alright. Jean told me that you looked unwell, and we can’t have our best knight getting sick, now can we?”

“I’m fine. Just a little tired.”

You went to turn around, when Kaeya reached over and place his hand on your forehead. Freezing you let out a sound somewhere between a strangled cry and a shriek. Kaeya didn’t react to this however, or the red quickly spreading across the bridge of your nose. Instead he let out a sigh, before smiling, something which also caused your heart to seize up.

“Not running a fever. I’m glad. Do you know what’s wrong by any chance?”

“Yes. No! I mean, I think, I, I just need rest.”

“You can tell me if something’s wrong. I might not be able to help, but I can try. Consider it the duty of the Cavalry Captain. Have to keep up appearances, even among the ranks.”

“Really Kaeya, I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine.” Kaeya’s eye seemed to pierce through your soul. “You seem… upset, exhausted. Please, let me help.”

“I can’t…” Your voice cracked and you turned your head away, mortified by your inability to control yourself.

“What do you mean you can’t?” Kaeya’s voice was filled with sudden worry. “Is someone doing something to you?”

“No! No one is. I just can’t because, because it’d be selfish.”

“What do you mean?” Kaeya’s tone had become utterly perplexed, and for a moment you felt the crazy urge to laugh. As if it wasn’t painfully obvious why you couldn’t. This was so tiring. You were so tired.

“Because it’s not fair of me to take away your happiness just because of my own feelings.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I heard you talking to Jean,” you explain, face burning, “she said that you liked someone. Or maybe you did, I don’t remember. Anyways you like someone and it’s not fair of that to hurt me, I have no right to your feelings. But, but it hurts, it really, really hurts.”

The silence when you finished was miserable. You weren’t even looking up at Kaeya, not wanting to see the destruction of a friendship you valued so much.

“Have you considered that the person I’m so infatuated with might be you?”

When you looked up you caught a wave of emotions, similar in strength to the ones currently going through you, plastered over Kaeya’s face. Happiness, sadness, regret, relief; all these things danced in his eyes. In that moment you loved him even more for it, for knowing that he understood, and that he too couldn’t hide the affects of having someone you loved so close and yet so far.

Saying nothing you walked over and slowly stretched your hand out. Kaeya took the hand in his, and you reveled in the small intimacy, in his calloused fingers enveloping yours.

“I’m not good enough.” You pointed out, voice soft.

“You aren’t the one who decides who I love.” Kaeya replied, voice firm. “To me there is no one else worthy in the world. Only you. And I hope that I can be the same for you, that I can be worthy.”

“Yes. Oh yes.”

For Kaeya was more than simply worthy. He was the one you loved the most, as well as the one who’d now made you the happiest person you could ever dream of.

[beauvibaby]

there won’t be anyone else — t.seguin

a/n: obviously my timeline isn’t going to be accurate, and I know he went back to Canada for a large portion of his recovery but this is what worked… should I do a part 2???

Part two here!

summary: tyler asks his best friend to stay with him and his daughter during his recovery

word count: 5.2k

tagging people who interacted with my post: @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @mandypants95 @fallinallincurls @sidscrosbyy @myhockeyworld87 @lilyhood22 @joeyisourranger @je-ne-regrette-rien @youngbeezer @slimdebrusk

“Y/N?” Tyler spoke nervously, you tore your eyes off of the six month old in your arms, she gurgled in complaint as she grabbed at your face, “what’s up?” You asked him, shushing his daughter as she kept pinching your face. He smiled at the sight of you two, “I have to have a couple of surgeries, big surgeries, and I’m going to need a lot of help with Willow.” He explained, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, “do you think you could come stay with us for a while?” He finally asked, you nodded instantly, you’d known Tyler ever since he came to Dallas. Long before he ended up as a single father to little Willow. “Of course, Ty.” You assured him, “anything you guys need.” You added, giving him a soft smile as Willow reached for her daddy. “Hi baby girl.” He grinned, smothering her in kisses, “glad you finally wanted to come back to me.” He teased her, holding her above his head as she giggled, the sight alone melted your heart as she grabbed at his beard the second it was in reach. “When is the surgery?” You asked him, you were fortunate enough to run an online shop, so really, as long as you could bring your supplies to his house, which you knew he’d have no problem with, you’d be set.

“Next week,” he paused, glancing over at you, “in New York.” He rushed his words together. “New York?” You gasped, eyes going a little wide. “You don’t have to come!” He stated, “my mom is going to meet me there, and then she’ll fly with me back here.” He explained, “I’ll be gone for a little over a week, then I can rehab here.” He added, realizing he didn’t explain anything very well. “Are you sure you don’t want us there?” You asked, motioning to Willow who was happily laying on his chest, gurgling away, probably close to taking a nap since she just ate. “I do, I really do, but it’s not worth the hassle, she’ll be happier here.” Tyler sighed, resting his chin on top of her head. “I’ll send you a bunch of pictures and videos of her, promise.” You laughed softly, thinking of how crazy this recovery is going to be for him. “You’re going to do great.” You assured him, seeing the wheels turning in his head, “I’m sure of it, and I’ll do anything I can to help.” You murmured, running a hand through your hair as all he could do was muster up a smile.

***

Day 1.

Tyler’s mom FaceTimed you that night, once he was coherent enough to remember seeing his daughter. “Hi, Mrs. Seguin.” You spoke softly, Willow looking around with wide eyes on your lap, you flipped the camera to show her, “Tyler.” His mom mumbled, handing the phone over, he looked exhausted but the way his eyes lit up when he saw Willow, she’d just had a bath so she was only in a diaper, showing off her chunky little legs. “Hey, Willow, hi baby.” He spoke, she focused in on the phone, rapidly swatting at it as she recognized his face. You giggled, moving her around to be sitting more on your chest, her face next to yours. “Say hi.” You cooed to her, waving her hand for her, she bounced excitedly as he smiled at her.

Day 2.

He was a little grumpy that day, but tried not to show it as he got to see Willow via FaceTime again, you knew he was already tired of being unable to move.

Day 3.

You were talking to him encouragely as he walked for the first time in three days, Willow sleeping in her room, Tyler’s mom held the phone out in front of her. You knew it had to be hard for her as well, to see her son like this, all because he was playing the sport he loved. You took some time to talk to her as the nurses helped Tyler get back in bed.

He didn’t feel up to talking again that day so you were sure to send him photos and videos of Willow, she was finally sitting up on her own without falling over.

The next week went on like that until he was finally coming home, luckily it was right during Willow’s long afternoon nap, so you could help him get settled and get everything in order before his mother had to leave to catch a flight tonight.

***

“Hey, Tyler.” You smiled, opening the car door, greeting him brightly, he tried to mimic your eyes excitement, but you could tell it didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Hey.” He mumbled, letting out a soft groan as you helped him get out and onto his feet, he gave his mom a hard time about using the wheelchair, you could see the pain floating in her eyes, just overly worried that he would fall. “I’ve got him, Jackie.” You assured, walking directly beside him as he hobbled with his crutches, she nodded, grabbing the bags out of the car as you helped him get inside the house.

“Thank you.” He sighed, leaning into the couch cushion as you put a pillow under his leg. You just gave him a reassuring smile, his mom dropping the stuff by the entryway, “be easy on her, I know it’s hard for you, but imagine if you saw Willow like this.” You added in a whisper, understanding came across his face as he nodded, motioning for her to sit beside him, you let them have their moment as you grabbed his bags and brought them to the room he’d been staying in, on the first floor for now, until stairs weren’t a questionable decision.

You put the clothes in the laundry, and moved some stuff down to the guest room, humming softly as you did this stuff without question, just doing it to be helpful, not thinking of how much the small gesture would really mean to him.

After a while, you peeked in on Willow and she was still sleeping soundly with her arms above her head, you smiled, carefully shutting the door to the nursery and heading down the stairs with the monitor, Jackie had to get going if she was going to make it to the airport in time. So you both said your goodbyes, and you could tell it was hard for Tyler to let her leave like that, but what was he to do, she has a life to get on with as well.

“How has she been while I was gone?” Tyler asked, looking at Willow on the monitor, his heart clenching in his chest, wanting nothing more than to hold his baby girl again. “She was good, Ty.” You giggled, easing his nerves, he nodded, “thank you, so much, I know we just started the recovery process but you’ve already helped so much.” He explained, adjusting himself on the cushions, “you don’t have to keep thanking me, I’m happy to help, I love spending time with her, and you.” He smiled at your words, giving you the side eye as you turned away in embarrassment. You two had always been flirty, but once he came to you and said that was going to be a dad, he changed, he stopped going out, he spent his time at home, and it only made it easier for you to imagine a life with him. “We like spending time with you too.” He whispered, resting his hand on your knee right before Willow started to cry. You could tell he briefly forgot he couldn’t go get her as he went to sit up but then stopped himself. “Don’t worry, I’ll get her.” You hopped up, excited to see her when she finally got to see him for the first time in over a week, you took the stairs two at a time as you heard her crying get more intense.

As you picked her up, you completely forgot that Tyler had the monitor, and could hear and see you tending to her. “Oh my goodness.” You cooed, scooping her up, “your daddy is so excited to see you.” You grinned, kissing her chubby cheeks, making a brief face of disgust as you got a whiff of her diaper, “let’s get you cleaned up first.” You whispered, grabbing her a new outfit, this one having dealt with a small blowout. You quickly changed her and put her in her little jean shorts and a pink shirt, if it wasn’t for you, you were certain Tyler wouldn’t have anything girly for her to wear. He was watching the whole time as you took care of her like she was your own, his heart swelling in his chest, he’d always had a thing for you, but as he saw you with his baby, it only made him fall harder. And he became determined to make you his by the time he was back to playing.

He turned the monitor off and shimmied himself to be sitting up more properly as you came down the stairs, “who is that, Willow?” You gasped, pointing towards Tyler, she began to bounce in your arms. “It’s daddy.” You grinned at her, walking over to him and allowing him to take her. He breathed out in relief, “I missed you so much, baby girl.” He groaned, hugging her tightly, she pushed on him so she could lean back and look at him, she looked at him with a completely serious face before trying to bite his nose. He broke into a fit of laughter as he moved her away from his face, “that’s not nice princess.” He joked, tickling her sides, she giggled swinging her little legs as he lifted her up. “I swear she grew in a week.” He mumbled, sitting her on his good side, she sat on the couch, chewing on her hands and getting drool everywhere. “And she sits now.” He groaned, dramatically resting his head in the couch, she mimicked him and fell into the cushion. “Crazy girl.” You commented, taking the chance while she was distracted to tie up the top part of her hair, she definitely had his hair and all it did was fall in her eyes. Tyler smirked at you, you rolled your eyes at him, “now she looks like a real little princess.” You quipped to him, he faked a gasp, dramatically hoisting her into his chest. “How dare Y/N say that about my princess.”

It was a lot of extra work, and mess, but you brought her jar of food and bib to the couch so Tyler could feed her, knowing it was one of his favorite times with her as she was so smiley. “Have you ever tried this?” Tyler asked curiously as you sat beside him with her in your lap, she happily ate the spoonful of puréed apples, peas and beets. “Baby food?” You asked with a laugh, he nodded, pushing some more into her gummy smile, she gnawed on the spoon as he tried to take it away. “No, I haven’t.” You answered as you contained your laughter, “I tried it once, I figured it couldn’t be so bad, and it was even worse than bad.” He explained, carefully prying the spoon from her hands, she pouted at him, about to cry until he gave her the last bite and let her chew on the soft rubber spoon. “I’m sure it was.” You snickered, lightly wiping around her mouth, “when’s that first tooth gonna come in? Hmm.” He spoke to her, rubbing her little tummy as she burped, he smiled at her, the love he had for her was something only a father and daughter could share, and it was beautiful as you could see the concern on his face as she began to whimper. You let him take her as you went to get rid of the jar and spoon, coming back with her bottle.

“I just changed her, so she should be good for a while after this, is it alright if I go get some work done?” You asked him, he easily nodded as he laid her back on his chest, holding the bottle up to her lips as she eagerly started sucking on it. “Yeah, of course.” He spoke, not hearing you had already started walking away once he nodded, he smiled as you were tying your hair up sloppily while you walked, something you’d always done when you were getting focused on a project.

He turned on the golf channel, sinking into the couch with Willow as she fell asleep once her bottle was empty, he laid her down in the cushion beside him, boxing her in with a rolled up blanket and leaving his hand resting on her as he himself fell asleep.

***

Tyler had been home for a couple of weeks, physical therapy had been stepping up a lot, which meant he was incredibly sore by the time he got home, and incredibly stubborn. He figured, if he could do it just fine with a doctor walking beside him, there was no reason he couldn’t walk ten feet into the bathroom. Well, he quickly found out he was wrong as he stumbled from a pain in his hip and ended up on his knees, cursing as he couldn’t push himself up. You heard him fall, then the sounds of him cursing to himself and you shot up. “Tyler!” You called, rushing towards his room, he felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment as you rounded the corner. “Hey, hey, are you ok?” You gasped kneeling beside him. He shook his head, slumping against the wall in defeat, “what’s wrong?” You asked, looking over him, trying to make sure he didn’t pull any stitches, or injure himself again. “I just can’t get up.” He muttered, slamming his fist on the wall. “I’m a fucking professional athlete and I can’t stand up on my own!” He snapped, he thought you’d move away at the tone of his voice, but you didn’t, you only moved closer, wrapping your arms around him in a hug. “I know, Ty. It’s going to be ok.” You whispered, his breathing was ragged as he finally gave in and hugged you back. He calmed down as you just stayed there, letting him hug you as tight as he needed, you pushed his curly mop of hair back once he completely calmed down. “You ready to get back up again?” You whispered, he nodded watching you stand up and give him your hands. “Just push with your good leg, alright.” You gently reminded him, stepping a little sideways to give your feet some traction. “One, two, three.” You pulled on his hands as he slid up, his back against the wall steadying him, he planted both feet on the ground, you quickly grabbed his crutches.

“I’ll just wait until you’re back in bed.” You mumbled, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, he nodded, hobbling to the bathroom right outside the room. Your adrenaline high quickly crashed as you waited for him, and you found yourself laying flat on the bed as you waited.

Tyler came back into the room, stopping in the doorway as he saw you stretched out on half of the bed. A smile came over his face as you shifted in your sleep, burying half your face in the pillow, inhaling softly as you felt at peace. He didn’t wake you, he couldn’t bring himself too, so he carefully got into the opposite side of the bed, the thumping in his chest so loud he was certain you could feel it as you subconsciously rolled towards him, resting your hand on his chest as he threw the blanket over you.

Eventually, morning came, and when you woke up in the empty bed, the events of last night came rushing back and you leaped out of bed, not only was Willow crying from her room, but you didn’t see Tyler anywhere, you instantly became worried he’d fallen again and you’d slept right through it. “Y/N?” Tyler called as you went rushing past the kitchen looking for him. “Tyler!” You gasped in relief, placing a hand over your chest as you saw him pouring a cup of coffee. “I thought you fell again, oh my god, where did you sleep? Oh, the baby, let me get the baby!” You rambled heading for the stairs, he chuckled as he listened to you stomp up them, Willow’s crying soon stopping as you picked her up.

He was feeling a little better today, so he managed to get Willow’s morning bottle ready, and some toast for himself, settling himself at the table as you came down the steps. Your hair was tangled in itself, you didn’t have makeup on, and you were in oversized sweats and a tank top, but you’d never looked better to him as you giggled with his daughter on your hip.

You called his name as you walked into the kitchen, spotting him at the table, he didn’t answer, but his eyes were pointed in your direction, “Tyler?” You called again, snapping your fingers. He blinked, “what? Sorry.” Tyler muttered sheepishly, “did you want eggs?” You asked him, eyeing him suspiciously as you maneuvered Willow in your arms to give her her bottle. She happily started drinking it as you propped it up on your cheek, pulling the eggs out of the fridge. “Give her to me.” Tyler chuckled, making grabby hands for her as you struggled to balance everything, you happily gave her over, glancing back as he cooed down to her, whispering a good morning as he kissed her messy head of his hair, they looked so like in that moment, Tyler with his hair sticking all over the place, and Willow with hers pushed to the side from you, with a clip barely holding it back.

“I’m not sure if you’re up to it, or if you want to, but I was going to go to the pumpkin patch later today, if you and Willow want to come?” You offered, “I know you hate having to use that wheelchair but it would be so fun to see her next to all those giant pumpkins.” You raddled on, giving Tyler the chance to admire you, “yeah, that sounds fun.” He answered, smiling when you turned to face him excitedly, “I’m sure you have some cute outfit for her planned out too.” He rolled his eyes jokingly, and you nodded eagerly, of course you did, how could you not, it is her first fall season after all.

“Here ya go.” You mumbled, sliding a plate in front of him, he furrowed his eyebrows, “I never answered about the eggs.” He didn’t argue though, as he picked up his fork and took a bite. “I know, but you’re doing a lot today, you need them.” You giggled, offering a small piece to Willow, now nearly eight months old. She happily mushed it with her couple of teeth, smiling brightly at Tyler, he nodded reassuring her that she was doing good.

Finally you were loading up into the car to go out for a while, Willow dressed in the cutest outfit she had, something you’d bought before she was even born. The belle sleeve onesie just barely still fit her chunky frame, and the red overall skirt over top just made her look even more adorable, and of course, a matching red bow in her hair. Tyler jokingly didn’t approve of how short her skirt was as he took her from you once you arrived, she sat perched on his lap as you pushed the wheelchair down the isles, thankful for the wood boards they had put down as paths in the dirt, Willow was making noises at everything she saw, reaching out to touch the pumpkins every once in a while. “Let me get a picture of you two.” You stopped his chair next to a huge pile of pumpkins, and he stood Willow up on his lap as she grinned at you, it was by far one of your favorite photos of them so far.

An older couple was walking by and smiled at you, “would you like me to take a photo for you?” She asked, and before you could even process her words, Tyler was answering with a yes please. You felt the blood rush to your face as you approached him, he handed Willow to you, and you were about to stand beside him but he gently pulled you to sit on his good leg, you didn’t have time to react, you only smiled for the camera just like he was. “Oh, how beautiful.” The older woman cheered, handing the phone back over to you. “Thanks.” You mumbled, Willow hiding her face in your neck, suddenly shy. You clicked on the picture, and you felt like your chest would explode, you looked like a family, but you weren’t. “Y/N?” Tyler called, you quickly shoved your phone in your pocket, “are you ready to go?” He asked, taking the baby back from you, confusion laced in his tone as he saw the look on your face. “Yeah, Uh, yeah let’s go.” You mumbled, pushing the chair towards the exit, he held in a sigh, trying to figure out what had caused your sudden mood change.

***

“It’s Christmas!” You heard Tyler cheer as he got Willow out of her crib, the nine month old clapping her hands out of his excitement. Tyler was on the upside now, his second surgery complete, and now rehabbing both, he was able to walk without his crutches, he had to go slow on the stairs, but the doctor encouraged him to keep working on them. In a few weeks he’s going to be skating for the first time in months, and you were terrified, meanwhile he was ecstatic, ready to feel like his normal self again. You smiled, keeping your eyes shut as your door opened, “it’s Christmas!” Tyler shouted, putting Willow on the bed and letting her crawl up to your head, mushing on your cheeks, you gasped lifting her up quickly, sending her into a fit of giggles in her reindeer pajamas. “Christmas? Your first one!” You spoke to her, Tyler smiled, sitting beside you. “Merry Christmas.” He whispered, handing you an envelope, he laughed as you put Willow down and quickly pushed yourself to be sitting against the headboard beside him. She made her little baby babble as she played with the bunched up blanket. “You didn’t have to get me anything.” You spoke softly, opening the envelope, revealing a gorgeous Christmas card. “Oh shush, just read it.” You could hear the nerves in his tone, you shot him a smile before letting your eyes run over the extensive writing he’d done.

“Y/N, you have been a godsend in mine and Willow’s life, there isn’t anyone else I would’ve trusted to leave her with during all of this, there isn’t anyone else I’d want to be helping me off the floor at three am. What I’m trying to get at is,

There isn’t anyone else. I don’t think there will be anyone else.

So, if you’d kindly accept my gift, dinner, without Willow, a date, that’s what I’d like to call it.

Love, Tyler.”

“What’s the matter, Seguin? Too afraid to ask me in person?” You quipped, he opened and closed his mouth searching for the right words to say, “is that a yes?” He finally asked, a hopeful look dancing in his eyes. “Of course it’s a yes. I’ve only been waiting months for you to ask.” You giggled, catching him off guard by pecking his lips, it isn’t like you two hadn’t shared kisses before, but it was normally in a drunken state. “Uh-huh.” He hummed pulling you back in for a proper kiss, Willow shrieked, startling you both. She was looking at you angrily, before snuggling up to her dad, as if saying you weren’t allowed near him. “Good job, princess, gotta protect daddy from mean ol’ Y/N.” He murmured to her, earning a glare from you, but as he broke into laughter, you couldn’t even keep up your charades. “Come on, it’s Christmas, she’s got presents to open.” You mumbled, kissing her chubby cheek, “presents!” He cheered, holding her up highly, she giggled as he lunged her back down.

The date had gone as good as you could’ve hoped,

not exactly how he’d planned, but still a great night, the sitter had cancelled, and the restaurant he wanted to take you too didn’t offer a pick up option, so you ended up eating pizza on the living room floor, watching Disney movies, per your request, and talking about everything and anything. And of course, there were lots of stolen kisses.

***

“It’s alright to be a little scared you know.” You reminded your now boyfriend, he was about to go on the ice for the first time in months, and the anxiety just hit him, what if’s repeating themselves in his head. Willow was fast asleep in the stroller, tired from her own activities this morning. “But–“ “No but, you’ve got this babe, you’ve been warming up to this for months, hell, you probably skate better than you walk.” You cut him off, giving him a short pep talk, you squealed in delight when he pulled you in for a quick kiss. You pulled away with a smile, “now, go show that ice whose boss.” You giggled, pecking him once more before patting his shoulder, you weren’t allowed to watch him rinkside, no distractions allowed, so you took Willow for a short walk, all the while she slept. You kept yourself busy, getting caught up with things on your phone as you waited for Tyler to call and say he was done.

Finally as you went back to get him, Willow was awake but grumpy, and hungry, so you kind of just rushed in with her on your hip. Also remembering you had some stuff to do for work today that was time sensitive, “how’d it go?” You asked as you bounced her in an attempt to get her to calm down. Tyler slung his bag over his shoulder, “it was great, rusty, but it felt good.” He explained shortly, sending your urgency, “I’ll put her in the car.” He offered, taking her from you, and instantly she calmed down, only making you feel worse. You knew it was common for her to go through phases, hell, she’d done this with Tyler where she wanted nothing to do with him for almost a whole month, you didn’t realize how bad it would hurt. He shot you an apologetic smile, “hey, just take a deep breath. You’re gonna get everything done on time.” He assured you.

***

New Years had come and gone, and Willow’s first birthday was quickly approaching, as were her first steps. Tyler was sad that they were going to be happening so soon, but at the same time he was beyond excited for her to be running around in no time.

She quickly grew out of the phase of only wanting Tyler, which both of you were grateful for, as he could see it eating away at you.

“Come on, come to dada.” You heard Tyler, you peeked your head around the wall, seeing him sitting on the floor arms reach away from Willow, she looked at him quizzically, reaching her arms out, she wobbled but didn’t fall. “Come on baby.” He encouraged her, she took one step, two, three, and he just kept sliding back until she couldn’t go any further. “Oh my god!” You and Tyler shouted at the same time, “shit,” he jumped now knowing you were behind him. “Hi.” You laughed, sitting beside him, “I think you officially have a walker on your hands.” You told him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He furrowed his brows for a moment, he looked as if he was going to say something, but then decided against it. “Yeah I do.” He chuckled in agreement, setting her back on her feet and grinning as she did it again, and again, and again until she was too tired to do anymore and just plopped herself on your lap.

“Hi baby.” You mumbled, kissing her forehead, she sighed, nuzzling into your neck, instantly falling asleep. “She loves you.” Tyler mumbled, tucking your loose hair behind your hair, you bit your lip as you looked over at him. “I love you.” He breathed out, relief hitting him when you broke into a huge smile, “I love you, Ty.” You mumbled, he kissed you as good as he could with Willow curled up on your lap. “Let’s go put her to bed, yeah.” He laughed, taking her from you and disappearing to her room in record speed.

***

Tyler had his first morning skate today, finally getting back into a routine with the team, he was anxious as it was on a Saturday, thankfully no game today, but it was Willow’s birthday party. Of course, all planned by you, Tyler clueless on what to do for a one year old, all he knew is it had to be puppy themed, because those were her absolute favorite things.

“Woah.” Tyler stopped in his tracks, seeing the decorations you’d spread out around the house, his dogs happily laying with party hats on their heads. “Baby, this is awesome.” He chuckled as you came around the corner to greet him, “I know it is.” You laughed, welcoming the hug he offered you. “Thanks for doing all this for her.” He mumbled against your head, “of course.”

***

“Dada, dada, dada!” Willow shrieked running towards him, “Willow?” He gasped, his first game back resulting in a loss, but he scored and you couldn’t lie, it made you emotional. And he was all the clueless to you two being here, “surprise!” You grinned as he scooped her up, “you came?” He mumbled in shock, kissing his daughter before pulling you in with his other arm, “of course we came.” You whispered against his lips, smiling as he finally kissed you, “you did so amazing, babe, I’m so proud of you.” You cupped his jaw with one hand, “thank you.” Is all he could get out before Willow started to speak. She reached for you, “mama.” Your breathing hitched, and Tyler’s smile had grown. You looked to him, afraid to over step, “yes baby, that’s mama.” He assured her, “Tyler.” You cautioned, taking her as she kept reaching for you.

“Y/N, she’s just as much yours as she is mine, you’ve been here since she came home, you’ve taken care of her like a mother, and I don’t plan on letting you go anytime soon. So yes. You’re her mom.” His words brought tears to your eyes, he smiled softly wiping away the tears, kissing your forehead as Willow watched curiously, she kissed your cheek with a smile, having learned early on to be affectionate to people she liked. “Thank you baby,” you cooed to her, resting your head on top of hers. “Mama?” She hummed, smiling against you. “Yeah.” You agreed. “I love you.” Tyler sighed, snapping a picture of his girls, he said the words right before he snapped the picture, getting the most genuine smile from you. “I love you.”

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