#the only one who hears watchers and who knows what is happening

[avisaurea2]

The Human among The Celestials. Not fitting anywhere, but nonetheless giving meaning to everything.

[lady-raziel]

ALSO although i'm sure people are so fucking sick of hearing my thoughts by this point, I'd like to shut down the idea that because this essentially happened over the weekend that should excuse the lack of response (since watcher doesn't work weekends or so i've heard). look, i'm a person who totally supports a work-life balance and leaving work at the office. nobody deserves to be on call 24/7. that's not healthy and it doesn't make anyone more effective at their job.

however. there is a difference between logging out from a normal workday and logging out after you've just dropped a huge announcement that you've been hyping up, and doing so on a Friday afternoon before a tour. if a brand crisis occurs outside of work hours on a perfectly normal day, there's a little more leeway in not jumping on it right away as opposed to a time when you absolutely should be monitoring digital response, if only to pick out your favorite memes and posts to share on your socials (in the alternate universe where this subscription service move went really well and everyone loved it). not knowing what's going on at a time when you shouldn't be expected to know what's going on is pretty different than doing nothing when you absolutely should be watching for company news outside of normal hours.

all that being said, even in the first case where something bad happens that you need to take action on outside of work hours, waiting until Monday morning to do anything while the problem gets worse, particularly in a case like this with so much on the line, would get pretty much every comms or PR person I know severely reprimanded or fired. yes, you have a set work schedule each week. but in the end your job is to protect the brand, and you don't get to decide when threats come at you. your job is to formulate a response as soon as you know there's a problem. if you don't do that? you don't have a job anymore.

i say this with the full knowledge that watcher likely doesn't have a full "director of communications" role that entails reputation management on staff. They have a social media manager, yes, but full on corporate communications and all this other stuff really isn't (and shouldn't be!) that person's job description. (as a person who's worked as a social media manager i have a lot of thoughts about how other roles get smushed into that one and how that's not good for anyone, but that's another post.)

is it possible that watcher has contracted an outside firm to do PR/communications? sure. but in that case, a professional firm would ABSOLUTELY be on call over the weekend to help a client. that would literally be part of the fee paid to them. if they are paying a firm, and that firm hasn't helped them formulate a response and gotten it out by now, then they need to fire that group immediately. and also factor this into the conversation about money management if they've been paying a firm (none of which are cheap!) and getting such a horrible return on investment.

long story short, if your office building caught fire over the weekend, would you wait until Monday morning to do something? even if you don't own a fire extinguisher? even if you don't have a local fire department you can call? even if you were the one who set the building on fire? no-- because by then you might not even have an office anymore. emergencies aren't 9-to-5 problems.

[pinkcherryblossom18]

This is more of me just trying to test Finnick out but it became a fic instead of a practice drabble. So, enjoy.

Summary: The Capitol watches, even when you don't want them to, they watch. In this position, with Finnick and the vulnerable way that it has you, it's the way that Capitol prefers to watch you both.

Word Count: 1.7k+

TW: Smut, forced prostitution, allusions to the Hunger Games, voyeurism, consensual but not wanted voyeurism, gets sad at the ending

Ragged moans leave your lips, muffled and shushed by the pillow that your face is being shoved into by Finnick's hand on the back of your neck. He pounds into you and through foggy ears, you can hear the low moans of the Capitol spectators up in the small balcony surrounding the stage that you two and this small mattress is placed on.

Degrading words come from Finnick, replacing the soft and sweet nothings that he would usually gift to you while making love.

Making love, this isn't what this is. This is pure and raw fucking, all for the pleasure of the Capitol assholes who had bought you two tonight. This replaced what would usually happen, with Finnick and a Capitol member or you had him with one of them, never you alone with them.

That was something that was set in place after your Victory Tour by Finnick who was nothing more than a mentor who was only a year older than you at that time.

Finnick's bruising grip on your hip tightens as your knees buckle, making you stay upright and exactly where he had placed you, making sure that the vultures got their eyes filled with you getting pounded.

The wet squelching of your cunt urged on the filthy words coming for his lips and the moans from the watchers who viewed you two from the balcony and the camera that was set in front of a projector that showed all of your reactions. Everything and anything that you felt or heard, they did too.

You were enjoying this, with much difference from the normal way that you two would have sex. With much softer touches that wouldn't leave green and purple marks for the days after or guilty looks from Finnick for even doing this to you, his cries being muffled into your shoulder and riddled with broken apologies and cursing at Snow himself.

A shocked moan comes from you as Finnick moves his hand from your neck to your clit, rubbing fast and tight circles with his other hand barely nudging from the squirming that you were doing. Only loud growled out words came from him, loud enough for the vultures to hear him and for more and more shockwaves to build in your stomach, adding to your release.

You know that as much as Finnick wants to, he won't cum with you this time around with the watchers staring at you two. You can tell, from the way that he isn't faltering to the way you throw your head back to look at him and his eyes filled with lust look apologetic with the small shake of his head.

It isn't the first time and not the last and you can't blame him for not being able to. He would make sure you would, he always did no matter what situation you two were in and no matter who was watching or not.

Even in normal circumstances, he can't.

In those circumstances where he's embracing you with everything that he has, arms curled around your frame with your heads pressed together. Soft kisses marking you instead of the rough ones from earlier that had left a batch of hickies on your skin by the ton, he can't finish sometimes. His body used to holding back, had trained itself to not do so for him to last through the multiple men and women who bought him for the night.

Your moans start to become a higher pitch and with the small camera that had been placed in front of your face to capture it all, you can hear the loud groans of the vultures when your eyes roll back and your body spasms before going completely limp.

Ragged breaths come from you and Finnick lets you down, the hand on your hip rubbing soothing circles into your worn-out body and the inevitable bruise with its thumb. And ever so slowly, Finnick pulls out of you, and both of your hope that no one can tell that he hadn't cum, not that they would truly care other than the fact that they didn't get to see you spilling with the Captiol's golden boy's cum.

Ever so softly, Finnick places a kiss on the back of your head before turning you over and you see that he had already tugged his pants back on, this routine being a sixth sense to him for how long he had been through this vicious cycle. He gave you a small and reassuring smile. He leans down and grabs the blanket that he threw off of the small mattress and throws it over your body.

Finnick scoops you into his arms and you snuggle into his chest. "Are you alright?" He asks and you look up at him and nod. He does so as well before placing another kiss on your head.

Footsteps come your way and you don't look in that direction, too tired and worn out to do much of anything but bask in the warmth of Finnick's arms.

The footsteps stop right in front of you two and you can almost feel the annoyance bubbling in Finnick despite the smile that was most likely painted on his face. "Well wasn't that quite the show," the voice trills, a slight trace of breathlessness can tell you that he had enjoyed himself enough.

Perhaps he was the one who had paid to have you two make the so-called show in the first place.

You can practically feel his smile, so bright that without even looking at him you want to shun your eyes from his canvas of a face. "Perhaps something private would be much better, how does that sound?" The man asks and you almost groan out loud, you were already worn out from Finnick.

Even then, you didn't think you couldn't sleep after not getting any last night when one of them had touched you. Finnick was around as the deal between him and Snow had said but it still made your skin crawl with a certain sickness that made you restless throughout the night. Finnick would try and help you sleep, stories from when he was young that still made you laugh after so many times hearing him tell them and the way that he would hold onto you in the quiet of the night. Everything would be still for once, nothing coming to drag you somewhere you didn't want, either that be a knife in your hand or someone else pinning you to a bed.

Finnick understood that, even hours after, you couldn't sleep with the traces of their skin against your own. His own skin crawled with new and old feelings of Capitol members touching him and petting his skin even when they weren't paid. It had gotten worse after it had gotten out that the other female Victor of District 4 was an option along with Finnick, sold separately or in a package together.

You could feel Finnick nod, his grip tightening harder on you, pushing your head closer to his neck. You moved away your head from his ear as much as possible, yawning as exhaustion weighed down on your body.

Tucking your head back into his neck, you could feel him smile and you weren't sure if it was because of your movement or if it was forced, just as charming and sweet as the Capitol wanted him to be. "That sounds good," he said and you heard the other man hum in joy, your eyes widening, getting prepared for another night full of restlessness.

Your hand grasped for something to hold onto, trying to find anything else but the blanket around you for a peace of mind. "But I have to get this one to bed." He carefully nodded at you, trying not to jostle you too much. "All tuckered out you see," he added quickly, rubbing a hand up and down your side and you hoped that he couldn't feel the heat of your blush against his neck along with the relieved sigh that came from you.

A sound came from the Capitol man, one of faux understanding, excepting the excuse this time. "Can't blame the little thing," he said, his voice becoming sickly sweet and you forced yourself not to bring when his finger brushed over your cheek. "Next time maybe?"

You hoped not but it was clear that he wanted something, something that you would both have to take no matter what. "We'll see," Finnick said simply before turning around and heading for the secret elevator that you both used last time.

You could feel yourself starting to be lulled into sleep, even with the horrible touch of that Capitol man still feeling like acid on your skin. With Finnick still rubbing circles into your skin, the stinging feeling reduces to an annoying pinch of pain.

Neither of you talks, usually never do after things like these.

Things like these where both of you are put on display for entertainment, the Capitol vultures watching as he fucks you and getting themselves while watching, betting against each other on who would try and buy you two afterward. Someone would always win and you would be pinned under someone else while Finnick would watch, you would regret the deal that Finnick had made with the pure pain behind his eyes watching as you get touched by someone unwanted.

Finnick had once shared that he would picture ripping the people off of you while they touched you, saving you from the life that both of you were forced to live. For that night in the Capitol, you didn't have to experience restless nights before. He worried about those nights, especially after that one time you had forced yourself awake after an entire week in the Capitol.

You look up at Finnick as best as you can, barely seeing his eyes but you can tell that their misty with unshed tears that he's forcing himself to hold back.

Moving yourself a bit, you tried to look him in the eyes but Finnick only turned his head away. A sad frown settled on your lips and you only settled back into his arms, gasping in slight pain when his fingers slightly nudged the forming bruise on your hip.

"I'm sorry sweetheart," he said and all you could do was nuzzle into his neck, hoping that the slight comfort he would allow was enough to tide him over until you two got back into your room. Guilt would eat him alive until you could fully show him that you were alright but for now, you could only do so much.

[amourlyns]

❛ HEY VENGEANCE. ❜ ➜ ⁽ masterlist ⁾

𐙚 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕: in which batman visits crime alley, and the reader indulges the bat with sweet notes and baked goods.

✧ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: none

𐙚 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔: inspired by this post. thought it was the cutest thing ever and i wanted to write it out, something short n sweet !! dedicated to @armin-ocean-eyes

⟡ ⠀ | 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲. Of course, The Bat doesn’t want to jinx his nightly patrol but (…) it’s been nice.

In all honestly, it finally felt like a break. A time to hunker down and take time to focus on his parents. A stroll through Crime Alley would do. Bruce never forgets about his parents, nor does he forget that night. He comes back to remind himself of what happened. How he couldn’t stop it. How he failed to protect them. It’s a constant reminder, a punishment.

Tension never leaves Bruce’s body. He’s always so high strung, constantly prepared for fight or flight. Shoulders are tense, brows are furries and teeth are gritted. This was his very being now.

Late nights, cold and oh, so lonely. The heavy bass of boots sloshing through rain water across the concrete street. Vengeance has filled the role of Gotham’s protector for long enough to know everything about the city he tirelessly protects. He knows this city better than anyone else.

But he still can’t stomach the alleyway.

Today, Bruce doesn’t bring flowers, but he brings himself. And hopefully, that’s enough for them.

From above the street, unbeknownst to the Bat. He has an angel, a watcher if you will. The city has swallowed him whole and spat him right back at out tonight. Senses are diminished, hazy from the beatings of tonight. Usually, he’s more attentive than this.

Funnily enough, you just moved into the city of Gotham three weeks ago. It’s a dreary, dull city. But at least it’s away from home. Right? Sure, the apartment you were currently living in definitely seemed haunted and it literally oversaw the alleyway the Waynes died in. Why did no one tell you they got mugged? (…) But what could you do? It’s shitty but the only thing you could afford in this damned economy.

And dude, it was definitely haunted.

You actually thought you were hallucinating the first time you laid your eyes on it. The fucking Bat, Vengeance. Gotham Cities actuals protector? It was odd and horrifying. You expected to see him raging through the alley in his moody glory. Big, defiant, and spooky!

But he actually seemed defeated? In a way? His strides were slow. Then, he knelt down onto the pavement and stayed there. It’s weird, this habitual routine of the Bat coming by and kneeling happened constantly. Well, to be fair he did patrol your building after that. Scouring the rooftops for any signs of peril within the area.

When he was done, he would come back to your building and linger on the fire escape. Sometimes you could hear his heavy footsteps on the rooftops or the iron steps.

Now, no one ever said you were the brightest in the bunch. You moved to Gotham for goodness sake. Anyways, you decided to actually make contact with the Bat. Which in theory, sounds like a good idea because who wouldn’t want a hero in their pocket? Well, a vigilante. But you digress (…) If coming near the alley brings him down, maybe he needs a lift?

The general idea was, leave a note or a gift for Vengeance and leave him be. So, that’s how it begun.

It was the third time Bruce visited the crime alley. This time, he had the intention to make his trip revolve only around his parents.

But then he saw you.

Granted, you were definitely not expecting to see anyone or someone like the Batman at this time of night. So you scrambled off of your balcony and dropped some sort of post-it note on the way out. There were three things on Bruce’s mind. How many times have you seen him and did you know his habits or who he was? Paranoia gnaws away at his guts and creates a nasty hole in his stomach.

He was a master of overthinking.

The Bat was quick to snatch up the post-it note you dropped, taking the time to read and analyze your penmanship. Was it lined with some sort of poison? Was it a tracking device? He waits for a moment. Grunting at the words etched into the paper.

〞I don't know what you're going through but I know you'll get through it. Xoxo. 〞

Huh.

Alfred would tease him for this.

An admirer? He was stumped.

It’s been about a week since you’ve seen Vengeance, your gifts of food and ever abundant notes never stopped though. You were starting to think he changed his route ever since that night he caught you on the railing.

First off, he was terrifying up close (the man was ten feet away) and second off, how was he able to catch you. Some part of you expected the man to interrogate you or something.

He didn’t, thank goodness. But you kind of missed seeing the cryptic Bat.

On the other hand, Bruce decided to do some research on you. A through background check would never hurt and who knows if you wanted to kill him? It could all be a facade. Each baked good and beverage you left out for the Bat was analyzed and tested. It could’ve been poisoned, laced, or worst, set to detonate. He was taking precautions. But Alfred insisted it was a good gesture.

Whatever it was, you never stopped. Bruce changed his route of course, there was no reason to let his guard down. But, he did appreciate the notes. To an extent. He just couldn’t help but think of the uncertainty.

The latest one he was holding onto was nothing short of thoughtful.

〞I hope you're having a good day :) (Btw, I haven’t seen you around!〞

So for the most part you were attentive. So he could commend you for that.

Despite all of the alarms in his brain telling him to stick to the new route, he returns to the old route for your sake. The very least he could do was thank you for the messages and treats. At least, that’s what Alfred said. For once, he didn’t feel like being stubborn and listened. The first thing he saw was your silhouette against the glass of your sliding door. Then, your emergence.

Bruce is frozen in place. But you’re waving frantically and running down the steps to greet him. Should he turn away? Just leave and never show up again? What if ⸻

❛ OHMYGOSH, OH MY GOSH. YOU’RE REAL! YOU’RE HERE! I WAS STARTING TO THINK I WAS BEING DELUSIONAL AND SEEING THINGS. WHOA, YOU’RE TALLER IN PERSON. AND LIKE SCARY. SORRY, SORRY I DIDN’T MEAN THAT. WOW. ❜

You’re realizing how that sounded; Bruce notices how you cower in fear. Despite his own anxiety driving him up a wall. The least he could do was say thank you, or show his appreciation. It takes him a few moments to say anything. He can hardly hold eye contact, but it eventually comes out.

❛ I (…) I APPRECIATE IT. ❜

Well. You definitely didn’t expect him to sound like that. His response was so soft you couldn’t even tell if he was directing that towards you. It was so quiet he might as well been talking to himself⸻ and before you could even ask him another question, he’s gone by the time you look up.

Introvert much?

[ourmadmusings]

a/n: bc anon asked for a part three, and im super cheesed about it. I wasn’t gonna post it until tomorrow, but what can I say, im a generous god. 

Take me far enough to say we’ve gone - 

Miguel O’Hara was also a nervous man, as it turned out. He was nervous for you, afraid of what the light in his chest had to offer when he saw you return from a successful trail-run. His bluff was called, it seemed, and you passed with flying colors, earning a wide smile from Peter B. as he dropped you off, once again in O’Hara’s main quarters. The heavy glow from all of his screens casts him in an ever-intimidating light, that seems to be his theme with you. Scary.  He’d watched you with rapt attention on your little assignment, not sure why he’d anticipated the worst to happen to you - worst-case was Peter stepped in and bailed you out, but he’d informed Miguel that he hadn’t even needed to give any advice, a silent watcher, only coming down from his perch on a near building to show you how to activate the force-field device and ring in for a transfer.  “Well, looks like you’ve earned a permanent position amongst our ranks, huh?” He’s mumbling a little, he seems a little deflated as he says it. “Isn’t that a good thing?” You’re raising a brow behind your ever-present mask, nary a ding on your suit. He can tell how much confidence the mission had given you, your shoulders not tilting inwards like they had the last few times he’d loomed over you. Your back was straight, and your hands pressed firmly on your hips in the shared stance every spider-person adopts when they know they’ve done well.  “Of course it is, but these missions aren’t always gonna be so easy, kid.” He mirrors you, standing up straight, leaning down slightly to make his point, “there’s gonna be a mission for each of us that we can’t come back from, you know that, right?” It’s almost threatening, the way his red eyes bore into your white eye-covers. He watches your chest deflate a little at the comment, a pang of remorse runs through him for saying it in such a harsh way. Truly, he just wanted you to be aware of the risks here, the sacrifice that you may be called to make one day. Each of them was expected to lay their life down for the greater good, and he wasn’t exempt from that, either. In his mind, he was offering you an out, a second chance to save your own hide if that’s what you really wanted, before taking on such a lofty responsibility. You jump a little when you hear the door slide open behind you, “jeez, Miguel, as pleasant as ever, aren’t’ya?” It’s the Peter that came with you, “Mayday is asleep-” who? “-Why d’ya always try to scare the new kids, don’t you think she’s proved herself enough?” He looks at you with a warm smile, the kind a father would wear as their kid rounded home for the first time, “I think you killed it, kiddo, don’t let him take the wind from yer sails. I was impressed,” you feel your cheeks heat up at his blatant praise and mumble a sweet thank-you, absent-mindedly kicking a pretend pebble as he claps a warm hand on your shoulder. He doesn’t stop, “why don’t you take your mask off and breathe a little, huh? It must feel terrible in there after the long day,” you can tell he’s being genuine when he asks, bending down to stare right into your mask with a slight tilt of the head, but you can’t help the itch on your forehead when the mask isn’t there, especially thinking about having to make direct eye contact with O’Hara.  He cuts in, “she says she’s more comfortable with it on, Peter.”  “Well, that sounds like a lie, she’s probably just terrified of you, chief. Especially when you go around making threats like that on a debrief.” They carry on like you’re not standing right there. “It’s not my fault if I want them to be aware of the risks, Pete.” How informal of him, using a pet-name, you think. “Yeah, well, the least you can do is thank’em for once. Not everything has to be so life and death. It’s no wonder our turnover is so bad, I have to wonder what our unemployment payout looks like.” They’re not stopping, you really consider making a quick escape while the two men, obviously very good friends based on Peter’s razzing, carry on talking over your head.  “I want to think you’re joking but-” “Tax fraud is no joke, ‘El, you know that.”  You’re…Uncomfortable now, he was right, your mask was kind of stifling after working so hard to have a no-loss mission, there’s still sweat dripping down the back of your neck as the two of them chirp on and on, back and forth. The heat from all the monitors has your vision swimming a little and you start to get a light headed trying to keep up, eventually heaving a heavy sigh of your own. A small, shaking hand makes quick work as you tilt your head down, hair messy as you shake your head, finally getting a good breath of fresh air from outside your protection. Both men stop mid-sentence and stare.  Peter is the first to speak up, not missing a beat but teasing as ever, “there she is, as pretty as ever,” he’s smiling-still. “Feels better, right? Don’t worry about it, we all know how to keep a secret kid, you’re safe here, with us.”  O’Hara just lets a heavy breath fall from his nose and turns away from the two of you, “I have work to finish, Peter, can you get some food for the two of you, please? Consider it a celebration, since you’re so keen on rewarding everyone for just doing their damn job.”  Peter mumbles something as he steps behind you, guiding you with hands on your shoulders, pushing you a little from your spot in the middle, “yeah, yeah, come on.” His head snakes around to smile at you again, “not to brag, but the food here is amazing.” 

It’s quiet after you leave and let the door slide shut, Miguel takes a shaky breath in, and out. He couldn’t help the pang of...jealously? Remorse, maybe, that he couldn’t be the one to tell you that you were safe with them, reassure you, tease you the way Peter was so confident in doing. The way your rosy cheeks looked so pretty, like Pete had said, plays over in his head time and time again for much longer than he’s proud of. He wanted you to know you were safe with him. At the end of it all, he wanted to make sure you were safe.  He’d seen you on his monitors for weeks before calling you to help them, walking around your New York in your street clothes. When Jess had caught him staring at you with such a heavy scowl, he’d said he just wanted to make sure you were keeping it above the wire, doing his due diligence to make sure he wasn’t hiring some loose-lipped kid. She only smiled at her feet, seeing right through his little lie. 

He was even more curt with you after you became comfortable enough to venture the halls without your mask, usually late at night when you knew less folks were around, but pluck his eyes from his skull before he admitted to the dull ache his ability to give you comfort enough to be maskless gave. He really did try to be more inviting with you, even briefly considering taking you on a more risky mission with himself and Jess. Of course, the anxiety that bubbled dashed any hope of one-on-one time in the field. He’d ask you about your canon events, trying to find a way to connect with you. However tight-lipped he was, you were moreso. Mumbling a quiet affirmative or negative, then steering the conversation back to work, against his best efforts. He thought it must feel that way with him, sometimes, when folks try to talk with him. He found himself missing your wry jokes, not as jovial as the run-of-the-mill spider, still keeping a shred perspective on your life of sacrifice. He, of course, knew all of your canon events, he could lay them out by dates and times if he wanted, he’d spent more time than he’d ever admit to on his little…Obsession with you.  It worried him, how fond of your company he’d become in the short time you were helping him. He was really trying to connect, honestly, but every time it felt like he was putting his hand on a hot-plate, and every time he was reminded of what his job meant - sacrifice. And God himself couldn’t convince him of the idea of sacrificing you for this chosen life.  He, as a result, decided to pull back. Treat this as a little passing fancy, maybe you just reminded him of being young again, careless, caution to the wind and so on. 

Months trickled by, trying his best to get you to smile at him despite his resolve to let it all go, to hear your laugh at least once was all he needed to get through his day, it seemed. He was embarrassed, in all reality, he was still technically your boss, no matter how informal that seemed in the walls of the citadel.  “-well, at least that’s what I thought, but Hobie said she was quite the up-and-comer.” He tried to listen to you, but the way you licked your lips made his skin tingle, “I may swing by and meet her, he seems super excited.” You’re leaning over his desk while you talk, Miguel had lost the plot, though. “As excited as someone like him can be, y’know.” “Yeah, send out the welcome wagon, no?” He smiles a little, typing away at some code that needed fixing.  “Ha - well, it’s not like you’re one to do it, you’ll scare her off like a wolf would a hare.” You’re staring at the screen when his fingers stop, hovering over the keys like he’d lost his train of thought, “what’s that supposed to mean?” He turned to face you, eyeing you with a heavy scrutiny, as he was wont to do. “No, nothing bad, I guess. You’re just so dramatic sometimes, it’s weird until you get to know ya’.” There’s a chuckle hidden between the words spilling from your mouth, he wonders if you realize how much he loves when you tease him. It makes him feel more human, less isolated.  “I’m just making sure they all kn-”  “-All know the risks involved, yeah, I’ve heard it all before. I think you’re just pretending so no one knows you’re a big softy.” His fingers haven't moved from above the keys. He leans back in his chair, his straight back finally relaxing a little, “and where do you get off thinking you can talk to me like that, kid?” There’s a stark lack of actual annoyance in his voice, a few months ago, you’d think he was actually offended you’d speak to him that way, but the keen look in his red eyes betrays him these days. “I think Peter is starting to rub off on you.” You laugh a little and smack his shoulder, “someone’s gotta keep you in check around here, right? He can’t shoulder all the burden of your grumpy ass!” You’re smiling down at him, having moved at some point to lean closer. He feels the tips of his ears heat up a little.  “Yeah, well, tell anyone and I’ll have to do somethin’ about it, kid.” You’re a little surprised at him, in the best way. He’s got a full smile, just like the one he wore when you told him about the dryer sheet below your mask, your cheeks heat up and you move to hop off the platform, “hey” a finger pokes at his shoulder -  “don’t start writin’ checks there, boss, or I’ll have to ask you to cash’em some day.” You don’t turn around to face him as you continue, “it’s our secret, I guess. For now, at least.” You pull your mask back over your head as you walk out the heavy door.

He groans a little as the door slides shut, leaving him in the soft hum of all of his monitors - he doesn’t finish the line of code before he shoves himself away from his desk and starts the long trek back to his own private room for the night.

a/n: big man said feelings are for dummys. Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 4-

[theminecraftbee]

hey bee, i wanna understand the watcher lore. can you help point me to the right place for it? or explain it, if it isnt too complicated?

here's where i say "it kind of doesn't actually matter".

hear me out: the thing is that if you are hanging out in the fandom, the watcher lore the fandom uses is like... a fandom invention. i've compared it to a sentinel/guide au before. it's not actually... a thing that is all that closely related to what happened in evo from my understanding.

like, the watcher stuff originally comes from the evo smp, an older smp of grian's. they were deities that ambiguously were also the audience, and liked to punish people being mean and give players weird riddles to solve. at the end of evo, grian joins them. also from evo are the listeners, who are enemies of the watchers (maybe defected watchers themselves? this seems unclear to me) that contacted jimmy and martyn, but largely only worked with jimmy.

the OTHER canon watcher stuff is "whatever martyn is doing over there with his own watcher lore", which i am sure someone who is much more of a martyn guy than me can give you a summary of. it's something along the lines of "watchers feed on emotions/are running the life series". he has explicitly stated that's only canon for him, however.

but MOSTLY? watchers are a collective fanon au that you can kind of use for whatever you need them for. as general rule they TEND to be evil (but not always), grian is one of them (and whether or not he has defected from them is a point in order in the fic), the fanon likes giving them a general biblical angel appearance, purple color, and mask (although ALSO not always; there's basically always either eye imagery or a mask though), they can be a stand-in for the audience or the pressures of being a creator (although not everyone does this), and frequently they have something to do with the life series (though not always). they're useful both as "i want something to be blatantly metaphorical for the audience" and "i need a deity/antagonistic force for my story" most of the time, and also for the ever-present grian angst.

they're fun to mess around with in my opinion! but also in my opinion if you're only writing hermitcraft stuff it's like... not really worth Worrying about "understanding watcher lore" because there isn't actually that much of it that's canon, most of it is just... stuff the fandom likes to do with it, you know?

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

It's Who We Have | Part One

Summary: Who knew the little girl in the green coat would change everything? | Word Count: 5.7k~ | Warnings below the cut!

General Taglist | Billy Washington Taglist | Series Masterlist

A/N: The coat story is based on a real story that happened to me when I was in primary school. Also the age of consent in the UK is 16, and this chapter does mention being intimate at that age. If this bothers you, you're welcome to click away. Primary School = Ages 7 to 11, Secondary School = Ages 11 to 16, Sixth Form = Ages 16 to 18

Warnings: bullying, underage drinking, angst, mentions of sexual intercourse (reader is of legal age), Billy being a general twat

It started with a rain cloud.

It was at a time when he was still excited to be in the passenger seat of his Mum's old Ford Focus. When his enthusiastic little feet still didn't touch the bottom of the footwell. His curious, wide blue eyes watched the world go by, following the shadow of the car as it zipped by the older kids, who were trusted enough to walk to school by themselves.

Year 4 was no particularly exciting year. At the tender age of 8, Billy was highly introverted, but a perpetual watcher of other people as well as his immediate surroundings.

He noticed the little things that other people didn't, like how electricity hummed in the walls of his bedroom, how the space between the grass was worn down into a man-made path and how, on the dot, every night at 8pm a man walked past his house grunting down the phone in a low baritone, swinging his suitcase at his side with every wide step.

His parents noticed how perceptive he was when he'd slip away upstairs as he heard the metal click of the gate with Lana's late return home. Knowing that an argument was about to ensue between his sister and his dad.

His mum, intent on breaking up and being the buffer between two extremely large personalities, often neglected her quiet little boy upstairs. But it wasn't entirely her fault.

Lana, a teenager through and through, intent on creating hardship wherever she happened to be with her actions and words, was incessantly butting heads with both of them.

He could hear the low rumble of thunder even over the revs of the car. His mum always drove in too low a gear.

His mum laughed lightly when Billy looked up at the dark, looming cloud hanging over his school as rain smacked against the windscreen.

"Ooh dear. Good job you've got your raincoat, eh?", she smiled, turning her steering wheel to slide into the school car park.

"What did Miss Warren say it was called?", she prodded.

Billy could barely see his mother over the high collar of his coat.

"Cum…ulo…nimbus", he recalled from memory sweetly and quietly, making his mum's crow's feet tick against her eyes as she smiled.

"There's nothing to be nervous about, darling. It's just a new school year".

His mum's soft pat on his head didn't comfort him.

Though the same people would be there, it would not be the same teacher.

Miss Warren had seen how quiet Billy was and nurtured the few words she could get out of him. He remembers her fondly. How she had curly chestnut hair that one might describe as unruly, and always had a floral scent about her when she'd kneel next to him and ask if he could recite the last sentence of his book to her.

It was the only good thing about school, he thought.

Year 3 had been difficult. He didn't do well when he was forced to socialise.

Other children had thrived in regularly seeing others. Forming friend groups, squealing with delight on the playground and the girls giggling and whispering to each other about who they were going to talk to that day.

He held his mum's hand loosely at the gate, where the headmaster was filing the children of all years and ages into the main part of the school.

She knelt beside him, zipping up his coat as the rain pelted against the concrete.

"I'll pick you up after your club, okay?" 

Billy nodded once, disappearing past the threshold of the school with a downwards gaze and a comically large bag hunched high on his shoulders.

It started with a rain cloud.

He knows now that it was silly, the reason his now best friend entered his life.

When he first saw her, she was on the verge of tears, standing to her feet and looking down at herself completely covered in mud. Her lips quivered, looking at the group of established friends with horror as they rushed away, their shoes smacking on the wet ground.

He hadn't realised he'd stopped until she took a sharp breath in, clearly trying not to cry, looking down at herself. 

Her small hands tried to push the mud off her green coat, but only served to smear it around. He could hear her shudder her breath, frustrated, and began to whine with increasing volume. Her book bag, once blue, was completely sodden.

And on top of all that, rain continued to hammer down on them, which only made her more upset.

Billy fiddled with his hands nervously, looking around immediately for an adult, to no avail. Thinking with terror, that he might have to approach her. 

It wasn't even because she was a girl. For they were at that tender age where it didn't matter. That they were just children, trying to figure out how to exist in a world that seemed brand new everyday.

He hiccuped on her own breath with tears as he stood before her.

"Are you okay?", he asked nervously.

She could only shake her head, her eyes full of fear, her face and hair completely wet through.

"My mummy's going to be cross with me", she replied feebly, looking down at her coat, though waterproof, completely smeared with earth.

At the time, Billy thought, he couldn't argue with that logic that she was so upset at the thought of what her mum would think when she came home, covered in half-dried mud, having been pushed by the rowdy Year 6's.

He also thought, that he hadn't seen her last year, and that this was the first experience she'd had in her new school. And that he, if in her position, would be no different. Snivelling and crying before they'd even taken the register.

He grimaced as he picked up her book bag, slick with earth and without thinking twice, took her cold, wet hand and led her with him to the toilets before registration started.

Billy's big eyes flitted between the signs for 'boys' and 'girls' when presented with the toilets.

He decided to spare her the embarrassment, and took it upon himself to lead her into the girls toilets, despite the heavy blush on his face.

Seeing the inside of the girls toilet, while not much different, felt utterly forbidden.

But all he could think about right now, was the little girl he'd led in, and how to make her look presentable, and to get her to stop crying.

He used what felt like a tonne of blue hand towels, wetting some to get the majority of mud off her and the rest to dry her coat, seeing the rich green colour beneath again finally.

She still sniffed quietly, rubbing her tired face and choking on her breath every now and then. He gave her one blue paper towel to dry the remnants of her tears, the tissue rubbing painfully on her skin.

But ultimately she let him help her.

And Billy couldn't remember feeling as useful to someone as he did right now.

Once her book bag was clean, he gently handed it back to her. And she finally lifted her reddened eyes to him, her lips still quivering slightly, or perhaps she was cold from the onslaught of rain.

"That's better" 

She nodded at him, looking down at herself to see her coat was now only slightly dirty.

It was almost unnoticeable, her tiny, meek 'thank you'.

He held her hand in solidarity as they entered the classroom together. Coming alight when he told her where she could hang her coat up and sitting beside her, in line with the girl, boy, girl boy rule their new teacher had put in place.

It took her a few hours to warm up to him. To everyone really.

But he saw her again the next day, his feet swinging excitedly in the passenger seat of his mum's car at the prospect of seeing her again. The clouds Billy was scarcely able to pronounce were now gone, a light grey overcast instead on the early September morning.

Her coat was clean, a bright green as it was the day before.

She still seemed nervous as he bounded up to her, his curious eyes searching hers.

"Was your mummy angry?" he asked.

She looked down at her shoes, shifting her weight, not wanting to reply.

And Billy had his answer.

He watched her lift her head to meet his eyes again, her hands wringing together nervously and her voice all quiet.

"Can I sit next to you again today?"

Billy had grown out of hand-holding by Year 6, realising that he, as a boy, and her, as a girl, were supposedly from different worlds.

But it never felt like it.

Secondary school was daunting for all Year 7's. But Billy, tall for his age and towering over everyone else, felt more self conscious than usual that he stuck out so much.

His sandy blonde hair flopped against his forehead. Another measly early September, confined to a classroom to be patronised and talked at for several hours, passing the time only by making colourful cover pages in their exercise books.

"Billy!"

He couldn't help but laugh as she ran through the school gates to him, looking quite different in the secondary school uniform than he saw her last, which now felt like a lifetime ago.

Realistically, he only saw her the other week as they walked home together from the corner shop. Then, she'd been in jeans and a jumper.

Now, in her school mandated skirt and blazer, he thought she looked more like a young lady now than ever. And briefly, it terrified him.

The prospect of getting older.

The idea that they might drift apart.

He brushed her waved tendrils from her face, exhausted from the effort of running with her cheeks all flushed, with that squishy appearance that many associated with Year 7's.

If anyone didn't know then both, they'd think they were in different years.

"Got 'em?", he asked with a lazy smile.

She rolled her eyes, rifling around in her bag, "Um, yes? When do I ever disappoint?" 

He laughed as she ripped three Starbursts from her packet and piled them in his hand, "Only three? Thought we were mates".

She gave him a look, popping one into her mouth, "You are my mate, hence why I gave you three".

They walked together, collecting their timetables for the term ahead, rolling the sweets around in their mouths.

"I don't get these room numbers", she mused, "have you got science in S27?"

"Yeah, Mr White".

"That's alright then, I'll just follow you".

"Don't follow me, I've got no clue where I'm going either".

She smiled widely, "guess we'll get lost together then, eh?"

He let out a puff of air in laughter, tugging lightly on her ponytail in soft teasing, "bad luck to be late to your classes on the first day, ya know".

"Well then they should have a map", she pouts, smacking his arm lightly.

Looking back, he wasn't surprised how close to her he felt. For as pre-teens edging that fine line into puberty, when everything is confusing, new, scary and exciting all at the same time, he saw her more often at school everyday than he did his own parents.

She was a constant.

Most days they'd walk to school, spend break times, lunch times, and even the twilight hours after together. Always chatting mindlessly about whatever teenagers did talk about.

It was difficult to address though, that the older they became, the more the powers that be were intent on separating them.

Girls and boys weren't meant to be friends.

They were meant to like each other, hold hands, blush and kiss each other.

They were meant to have different classes, teaching different things. Boys were taught how to keep themselves safe from STIs, and the girls were taught about their monthly cycles, though many of them had started already, as well as how to prevent pregnancy when they were on the cusp of exploring their intimate, sexual selves. With hormones raging so hard that they couldn't think straight.

They were separated for PE. Even in the subjects they were offered to take.

It felt like everything was against them.

And in this forced separation, Billy was then forced to make friendships in other boys, as shallow and surface value as they were.

He felt as if he'd been missing out on this part of growing up, as he sat against the wall at lunch listening to his mates harp on about mindless teenage things. Like who was going to lose their virginity next, and if their parents would find out if they found out they'd swiped a packet of fags from their mum's handbags.

It wasn't like they didn't talk anymore.

There were the summer holidays, where more often than not, he found himself on her doorstep, asking her Mum if she could come out.

And she always delighted in seeing him. Even if it had barely been 24 hours since the last time.

But with the highest of highs, came the lowest of lows. And September would inevitably roll around again.

He sometimes saw her on school grounds between classes, having done the same thing and forced herself to make a group of friends. Though it was as clear to him that she didn't have anything in common with them, and just smiled and nodded at anything they said in an attempt to not show on her face how lonely she was.

She was solitary in nature.

And when he glanced at her across the assembly room, where the foldout chairs were lined up so everyone could eat, her eyes were distantly looking at her hands clasped in front of her, idly picking at her cuticles. Her friends were turned away from her, chatting with wide smiles and booming laughter to themselves. Making plans and giggling at inside jokes, all while her sandwich laid untouched rolled in cling film in front of her.

He thought, she must have been able to sense someone was watching her, as she moved her head. But never looked at him.

While Billy's friend group stayed with the usual characters, hers evolved. And every few months it was a new cast of people.

He saw she made the effort, and really tried, but that with every passing day, her energy wavered and eventually they'd grow bored of her and pretended as if she didn't exist other than to fill the empty seat beside them.

But he still walked her home, even if she said she didn't want him to. In silence if need be.

Eventually he began to notice, more so now than ever, that she was really a woman in disguise. That she was wiser than he thought she was, more grown up. That she thought about the future ahead of her and was careful to take calculated steps in order to get there.

At the fair age of 16, Billy, his features set into crisp lines, hardened by puberty, his muscles sitting wiry on his skin and taught without really having to try, realised that he had done her a huge disservice by merely accepting this forced separation with a stiff upper lip.

That she needed someone true and gentle, honest and no-frills. Something her girlfriends were unable to give her. 

That she wanted someone to try for her friendship.

As he had all those years ago.

They began to take the long way home, through the gap in the hedges, into Cranstead Fields, the tall grass tickling their legs through their uniform.

"Are you embarrassed of me?" she asked suddenly, pulling her hair tie out. Billy's eyes ran over her loose hair for a moment before replying.

"No, why?" 

"Because we barely talk to each other in school anymore", she replied, unable to hide the bitterness from her tone.

He had to accept that her words were true. They rarely crossed paths inside the school gates, and their conversations in between were shallow and empty, void of all authenticity and emotion.

It wasn't enough to have acceptance from one teenage girl, apparently.

But he didn't appreciate being called out so callously about it.

"Yeah, well I've got my mates".

She laughed through her nose, "Yeah, saw you smoking behind the bike sheds. Gonna get you killed one day, you know".

He furrowed his brows at her, "Smoking?"

"No, your mates"

She laughed at his confused expression, "course I meant smoking, you wolly".

There was a silence between them as they brushed past the white painted lines on the field, where a football pitch had been drawn.

"I don't mind you having mates Billy. I just miss you".

"Really, cos it seems like you do mind", he bit back. And he watched her raise her gaze to him quickly, "just cos you don't have mates doesn't mean I can't".

Her lips hung in shock that he could say something so cruel.

And that he carried on.

"Do yourself a favour and do what other girls do and get a boyfriend or somethin'. Save you hanging about with me moaning all the time".

He didn't feel bad about it until the moment she disappeared past her mum at the front door of her house, intent on being away from Billy's harsh words as quickly as possible.

"Tell your mum I said hello, love", her mum smiled.

But as soon as the door was shut, even the thick double glazing couldn't muffle the loud, destructible tirade of her mum's anger.

And he felt the hot whips of panic at his neck, that he'd done and said something wrong.

And yet, despite that, never said sorry for it.

Billy thinks now that he remembers the most from this part of their friendship because the most happened.

But he realises now that it's because of guilt.

It follows you, like a kind of trauma through your life, without the repercussions of the person you've hurt.

And god, he watched her get hurt a lot.

After that, she didn't even really try. She flourished in solitude, keeping herself company wherever she could while Billy and his mates reaped the benefits of being young and dumb. 

It was also when he appeared. Like a fucking virus. Always finding people when they have their guard down and their hearts low.

Even though they were in the same year, he had this air of arrogance about him that he thought he was much older, more sensible, and could be taken more seriously.

And with the absence of Billy in her life, she accepted any chance of feeling wanted with open arms.

She wanted to feel important to someone.

Billy would never forgive himself for that.

He simply watched from afar, not realising how invested he was, more often than not from the bike sheds as the boy who was trying too hard wound his web so tightly around her it must have felt comforting for her to some degree.

To be choked by affection, to some, is a kind of affection.

After Easter break, having not spoken to her directly for some months now, Billy had realised something had changed.

The boy who had wound his web tight, seemed to do so with plenty of others too. As boys of his age were known to do.

She'd rush out of school so quickly, staring at her feet, that often she was the first one out the gates and Billy, even if he'd wanted to, couldn't keep up.

He knew where she was going anyway.

He was assured when he saw her leaning her head on her arms crossed over her knees, under the large chestnut tree at Cranstead Fields.

She heard him approach, and turned her head away, sniffling quietly.

He swallowed over the lump in his throat as he sat beside her, not speaking.

And a long, long moment passed. As if all that time apart had lessened that trust, and it would take more than a mere moment to patch it back up.

"Is it him?" he asked.

Her clothes rustled as she nodded. Her breath hiccuping in her chest the same way it did when he saw her all those years ago, covered in mud.

"What happened?"

She wiped her face with her sleeve, a bit of makeup coming loose.

"What do you think happened", she bit back, annoyed and heartbroken all at the same time.

He briefly forgot, that for girls it sometimes felt like more, like so much more, to give yourself to someone for the first time.

Only to have the trust squashed as quickly as it was to slam a book shut.

She sucked in a breath as he stroked her back comfortingly.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

After a moment, she raised her eyes to him, all red and puffy, her face all hot from crying.

And he felt his heart break for her.

Behind this girl, who was suffering in heartbreak, believing that her first love and first time had now been entrenched in misery, he caught a glimpse of the girl she had been, when they were inseparable.

He tutted, "Come here".

He bought her head to his chest softly, his hand drifting to her shoulder to encourage her to hug him, to let it all out.

And she did.

She hugged him tighter than she ever had before. 

A teenage boy part of him felt embarrassed. But another, fought to stay here like this with her.

Until eventually she said pitifully, "I don't want to go home".

And he realised that it wasn't just the boy she was upset about.

Luckily Billy's mum delighted in having her around at his, even offering that she could stay if she wanted to, as Lana was away at uni and wouldn't be using her bedroom til the summer holidays.

And though he could see his friend was tempted, she mostly refused, knowing that at some point she'd have to return home. To what version of her mum, she didn't know.

But it didn't mean she never took them up on the offer sometimes, when things were really bad.

Yes, he got teased endlessly by his mates.

But it didn't matter. Because he felt like he had her back.

Sixth Form proved to be a happier time for both of them.

It felt more free, laid back than the shackles of secondary school. Hindered by school uniform and calling the teachers 'sir' and 'miss', here it was all backwards they thought.

The prospect of free time to a bunch of excited teenagers, on the cusp of adulthood, was exciting.

He felt like it was just like old times.

They sat together in the common room in their free period, sharing the cheapest thing they could get from the canteen, which was four flimsy slices of toast. That and an orange Fanta from the vending machine.

They'd both somehow formed into new people over the summer holidays between Year 11 and Sixth Form, wearing different things every day and giving each other a glimpse into their truer personalities.

At first, it was just two of them.

And eventually four, then six.

A solid friend group. 

She had two girls at her side most of the time, Libby and Ami. The first blossoming Billy would ever witness of his friend into womanhood would be the way she formed these friendships so naturally, in contrast to the shallow ones she'd had in secondary school. Which now seemed so long ago.

He had his own mates of his own sex. Ami's twin brother Abi, Harry (who's real name was Barry but never told anyone) and the most recent addition to the group, Paddy.

It was a friend group of the truest intentions. They laughed, joked, and were never far from one another. Many nights they spent at Cranstead Fields, huddled under a tree, passing bottles of WKD around and some horrendous smoky whiskey Paddy had managed to steal from his dad's liquor cabinet.

But there were special moments where Billy and her would just sit and observe, nursing a bottle between them.

"Bet you Libby and Abi are necking each other off by 1", she smirked, gesturing with her head to them as they sat together across the grass, Libby inching herself onto his lap with every swig of alcohol.

Billy laughed, "I don't think I need to bet on that", he replied, pushing the hair off his forehead as it touched his eyelashes.

"You need your hair cut", she smiled.

He gave her a look, "Who do you think I'm trying to impress?"

"I dunno", she shrugged, "you never tell me who you've got your eye on".

He pushed the WKD into her arm and she took it, smirking as she sipped it.

"I suppose…there's a girl a year up…", he murmured.

"See! I knew it!" She exclaimed, "Wait, Year 13? Who? Tell me".

He rolled his eyes at his friend's curiosity, "Rebecca".

He laughed when she scrunched her nose in disgust.

"Her? She's been out with a few Year 12's, hasn't she? Proper little cradle snatcher".

Billy laughed, louder than he anticipated, and when he opened his eyes again, his friend was already looking at him. Her eyes all glazed over with the amount of alcohol she'd had already.

"Leave off. You asked", he grins, blinking quickly once he feels his head clouded with dizziness.

"Well", she passes the drink to him, "I wish you luck, you'll need it".

They briefly look back to Libby and Abi, who are now embroiled quite blatantly in kissing one another, Libby nestled in his lap and her hand at his jaw.

In the distance Paddy kicked a ball around with Harry, as Ami watched between them, not an ounce of sexual tension between them.

Their knees touched and both quickly looked at each other, as if horrified that they hadn't realised how close they were.

It was dark in Cranstead Fields, but she felt she could see the way his eyes reflected the distant street lamps, how they seemed to fit over her face, and how he pressed his lips together and swallowed nervously as he moved a piece of her hair from her face to tuck safely behind her ear.

Was is the alcohol? This weird feeling in both of their stomachs? The airiness in their heads?

Was it only now that he saw that she had nice eyes? That he could see the contours of her collarbone, and the curves against her skinny jeans?

That his friend, was a young woman.

He only remembered sighing against her lips, turning his head to the side as he pressed against hers. How small she seemed compared to him.

She tasted of cheap vodka, but then again, so did he. And he wasn't entirely paying attention to the taste of her, but to the feeling of her.

It wasn't either of their first kisses. But it certainly felt like it.

He felt his chest go tight as her hand moved to the front of his hoodie, holding the fabric in her palm, as his tongue parted her lips.

When they pulled away, he still felt her presence on him.

Her hand slowly slipped from his chest, her eyes looking at him with trepidation, her lips kiss-bruised and swollen. Both of them looked at one another, unsure what to say, and trying form words over the whirring and melting feeling of drunkenness in their brains.

"I, uh…I should be getting home", she said quietly. And Billy nodded, now drunk on another feeling that had taken root deep in his chest.

He saw her off at her doorstep, hands deep in his pockets, not knowing whether what they'd done should be addressed or not. Or whether their brief kiss was the result of simply having too much to drink too quickly.

She had her answer though, when Billy turned up to Sixth Form the Monday after, hair trimmed, with his arm loosely around Rebecca's shoulders. He spoke to her closely, making her laugh and stroking her hair behind her ear, as he had done to her the Saturday before.

Though they remained close. Remained friends. There was an air of something unsaid. 

Something that appeared whenever she saw him with her. Pressing his lips against hers, threading his fingers into her long, perfect hair and keeping one hand perpetually around her thigh.

When Rebecca, or Becky as Billy lovingly called her, finished her A-Levels to move onto Middlesex University to do Psychology, she felt horrible that she was relieved she was gone.

Felt that she had him back, even if it was only sometimes.

She knows now, that nothing good lasts forever.

She thought he'd be happy for her, when she got her UCAS email that she'd gotten into her first choice of university in Manchester.

But he always managed to surprise her.

"The fuck are you going to uni for? And so far away as well, you don't even know anyone there", he almost barked the words at her, not wanting to admit that his heart was hurting at the way she looked so wounded at him.

"So what? It's the course I wanted to do and-"

"And what? You just gonna leave me here doing fuck all, are you?"

"You can do what you like, Billy!", she shouted back, matching him now in frustration, "I'm sorry that I am pursuing what I want to do!"

Don't leave me behind.

Please.

"What about your mum? Hm? You just gonna leave her on her own?"

She scoffed, "my mum doesn't give a fuck where I am half the time, you know that".

"Yeah, I'm feeling like I don't really know you at all lately", Billy muttered under his breath.

"The fuck is that supposed to mean? I wasn't going to just forget about you. I'd come visit and-"

"You know what, forget it. Do what you like, I don't give a shit".

She stood there, taking his words like hits. Each one hurting more than the last, opening the hole inside her wider.

She thought, he must not know what he's saying. She never knew Billy to be this cruel, apart from in secondary school.

But he was young then, he was smarter than that.

Wasn't he?

Her eyes filled with tears, blinking quickly, taking a step back from him like he'd burned her.

She tried her best to remain strong on her face.

"Just because I don't want the same things as you, Billy, doesn't mean it's pointless".

When Billy just stood there, mouth half agape, like everything had just caught up with him, she shook her head.

"Keep in touch, if you can be bothered".

She said it as coldly as she could, not looking back as she walked away from him, quickly wiping her cheeks. With each step, the pit widened in her chest. Feeling as if the string that had inextricably connected them since that fated day in Year 4, was prone to snapping irreparably.

His words rattled around in her head the entire journey to Manchester. How horrible they were. And how a person she'd considered a friend, could speak to her like that.

After everything that had happened between them.

Moving to a new city didn't feel like starting over. It merely felt like burying something at the bottom of the garden, the grass disturbed, and having to look at the patch of earth as a reminder of what once was.

It was hot again in London.

Billy stared at his phone for most of the evening, waiting for a text from Becky, to tell him that she was moving back in, or that she'd thought things through and decided not to move out.

No such text arrived.

"Put your fucking phone away or I swear to god I am funnelling this pint down you, like it or not", Paddy laughed as he slid into the booth, sliding one pint over to Harry and the other to Billy.

"He's still moping", Harry smirked, which earned a glare.

"Becky again?" Paddy prodded.

Billy sighed, clicking off his phone and turning it face down, "None of your fucking business".

"Woahh! No need for that, is there? C'mon, get it down ya" 

Each of them took a healthy sip of their pint.

"You too, don't be on your phone!" Paddy nudged Harry, trying to get a peek at his phone.

"Fuck off"

Paddy grinned, "Aw, is it a girl?"

"No, it's fucking Abi, you twat".

"S'alright, we don't judge, do we Billy?"

Billy grinned over the rim of his glass in response.

"He coming?" Billy asked.

"Yeah, apparently with Libby", Harry replied, thumbs moving quickly over his screen, "we'll facetime Ami later, when she's awake".

Both Billy and Paddy's eyebrows raised as they looked at each other.

"Together?" Paddy prodded, but Harry only shrugged.

The local pub was mostly empty, with most people outside trying to catch the last bits of sunlight, and getting mauled by mosquitos in the process.

For the most part, Billy watched Paddy and Harry with a smile on his face at how they teased each other talking about trivial things like football and what the hell was going on between their two old friends who kissed in Cranstead Fields all those years ago.

It was a good distraction.

But being with them, made him think of her.

Paddy leaned over, eyes on the door of the pub, "there they ar-oh shit".

Billy furrowed his brows, "What?"

His friend was about to open his mouth again, but it was interrupted by Libby poking her head around to the booth, "Hello! Oo, it's like the gang back together, isn't it?" she smiled.

At her side, Abi, who slid his hand around Libby's waist.

Billy opened his mouth to say hello.

But then he saw her.

And his mouth went completely dry.

He saw her eyes scan the opposite side of the booth, smiling at Paddy and Harry first, and he swears his heart drops into his stomach as she shifts her gaze to him.

The smile on her face falters. 

But not completely.

She catches herself halfway, and it resurfaces.

He can't help the way he studies her as well, like she's a whole new person. Wearing a summer dress with a denim jacket hung on her shoulders, hair down. Her features have matured, but she continues to keep that glimmer of mischievous youth in her eyes.

It was like seeing her for the first time.

"Mind if I sit?"

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard | @bellstwd | @blairfox04 | @hb8301 | @jamespotterismydaddy | @mochi-rose | @nenelysian | @natty2017 | @randomdragonfires | @risefallrise | @theoneeyedprince | @thelittleswanao3 | @tsujifreya | @urmomsgirlfriend1 | @valeskafics | @watercolorskyy

Billy Washington Taglist: @fan-goddess @assortedseaglass  @chainsawsangel @xxxkat3xxx

[hypostatic-oath]

I'm so happy you like my ask (this is long overdue).

I bet that the people of Fontaine are very happy because i have been doing nothing but hanging out with the Melusine instead of doing the archon quest(though that will eventually come to an end soon). I also bet that new laws/regulations are being proposed because the amount of wacky stuffs the Traveler and their companions is up to all the time. Imagine you just joined the Traveler's team and your first experience is watching a forest watcher beat up some of Fontaine's local legends lmao (and after your recent post, Childe is seething if he learned of this).

Can i be 🚬 anon?(unless you don't do that here)

Named anons? On my blog? Omg I feel honored - of course you can be 🚬 anon! Welcome :D

New laws being proposed because of the traveler is amazing. It has the same vibe as that gliding law in Mondstadt about taking off using anemo slimes (yes, it works, no, it is not very useful as far as I know. I don't even remember if you get an achievement), because you KNOW there's a story behind it, someone must have tried it and it must've gone very, very wrong, and the wacky circumstances that lead to the creation of new laws would be hilarious to witness.

However, on a more serious note, Wriothesley and Neuvillette would be grappling with the issue of teleportation - how do you arrest someone who can simply just... leave? It doesn't matter how secure a prison is if a bored entity can just take control of one of the prisoners and whisk them away on a whim? Worse yet, since Wriothesley is officially a Vessel, what would happen if an Overseer decided to take control of him and sign official pardons? New rules in the Fortress of Meropide have been implemented - any orders given by the Duke while he is on the team are automatically overruled unless it can be proven that he is acting of his own accord.

I can only imagine how confusing it feels for the newcomers to suddenly join the team and find themselves in the kind of situations the Traveler faces daily... and for the onlookers, of course. "Oh, I wonder who that newcomer is... such a distingushed gentleman, perhaps he's here on business?" "Guys, not to scare you or anything, but that 'distinguished gentleman' dropped a meteor on a crab." "Oh, yes, that huge crab in the-" "No. A regular crab. On the smaller side, even. He just threw a huge meteor at it - didn't even bat an eye. The crab practically disintegrated." "What the hell."

And for those that don't know their teammates - any of the knights of Favonius being placed on a team with Klee know exactly what she's capable of, but someone less familiar with her is about to be shocked. "What in Celestia's name is the Overseer thinking? This is a child, she'll get hu- oh. Oh no."

On the other hand, imagine being a nun-turned-idol, looking to the side to check who your teammates are, and there's the Raiden Shogun standing there as if it's no big deal. A little bird lands on her fingers. She watches it with a wistful expression as it flies away. You look to the other side and see the Dendro Archon chatting with that kind but often drunk bard as if they're old friends. You find yourself in what looks like a domain but soon realise, with no small amount of dread, that you're in the Abyss. At least you have two Archons beside you... Barbatos help you, the challenge has started and there are more monsters than you thought. You're doing your best to keep all your teammates alive - you wouldn't forgive yourself if you were the indirect cause for the fall of a god. So you sing your song and put the hydro circle around your team, but there's just too many enemies, coming from all sides... And then you hear a faint "ehe", and the specters are pulled into a vortex of wind. The Shogun doesn't even need to pull out her signature move, just the swirl reaction the bard has caused is enough. You see him shoot down one of the things with a single Anemo-infused arrow. It dies immediately. He's dealing damage on par with the two Archons on the team. Just what is this bard capable of? Suddenly those rumors about him being Barbatos are starting to seem a little less nonsensical. Surely, it couldn't be true, right? You have half a mind to ask him about it once the four of you exit the Abyss, but as soon as you find yourself outside and able to regain your breath he just gives you a "whoops, gotta go!" and floats away on a wind current you're pretty sure he just created.

Now that I think of it, it'd be fun to imagine how different team dynamics would work - I'll make a separate post for this, but if you've read this far and want to send in asks with your team comps... 👀

[misguidedasgardian]

The Winter Sun (21)

21. The dangerous Road

MASTERLIST

Summary: War came at a heavy price

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Fem!Targaryen Reader 

Warnings: Cursing, medieval and asoiaf customs, AGE GAP, Cregan is 12 years OLDER than reader), arranged marriage, death of a character, war and all that comes with it, mentions of pedicide (killing of a baby), threats of non-con, technically adultery, might miss some warnings

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 3 k

Notes: Like I said, the pace is picking hehe, and it will get dark for a couple of chapters. SO SORRY FOR THIS LOVES

“I bled once”, you whispered to the maester, “but the symptoms hadn't stopped, I thought to be with child”

“after the birth of a child it could be tricky”, he warned with a warm smile, “forgive me my lady but I must check you out” 

It was an uncomfortable afternoon with the maester, but afterwards, you left his tower to search for Sara

The test that he had made you do was going to take time to… “develop”, so you had a couple of days before receiving any news 

Sara, and you, had started a quick net of communication throughout the North, you had contact with White Harbor, with the Lady Mara, and the Lady Bolton from the Dreadfort, all the way up to the Bear Island, even down at Widow’s watch, you exchanged ravens regularly, you even created, with Cregan, the “Dragon watchers”, dragons were faster than ravens, but you had placed outposts with huge beacons of fire that were to be lit as soon as they see or hear them, so as soon as it is lit, the next one will light them also, creating a line of fire to be seen miles away in Winterfell

You were nervous, the people were nervous, you had yet to receive news of Cregan, but if you think about it more carefully, it could be dangerous for him to be writing where they are and where theta e going, letters can be easily intercepted, an the last months you realized people who believe a man should have priority to ascend the Iron Throne over a woman is bigger than you expected.

You could have Aegon royalists within Winterfell without even knowing 

When you found Sara, you gasped

She was a mess, clutching to her own chest, heaving and crying by the window in her room

“Sara!”. you called for her name, running to her, hugging her, “what happened?”

“I don’t know!”, she managed to whine, “I saw something”

“What did you see? What happened? are you alright?”, you were so confused, she was distraught

She weeped in your arms, and you hugged her to comfort her, you directed her to sit on the bed, and you cuddled her. She eventually calmed, but she still shook with the sobs

“I don’t know what happened”, she whispered, “one minute I was here, and another…I was somewhere else”

“What do you mean?”, you asked her softly

“That somehow, I was somewhere else, I was something else”, you believed in magic, you believed in people who could dream about things that were going to happen, everyone in your family knew the tale of Daenys the dreamer and how her visions saved the Targaryens from The Doom. Once you were hiding from the boys with Helaena, and she couldn’t stop whispering about stars in the middle of the day, you didn’t listen and when the boys found you you ran from them, failing to see the edge of a wooden furniture and banging your head against it, you passed for several minutes in which you could see silvery stars under your eyelids 

But this was something else

In the book Cregan had lent you, you had read about wildlings north of the wall that could take the body of animals and use them as their own… but it was only a tale, wasn’t it?

“I was in the skies”, she continued, “I was flying, I was big, I saw Dragonstone”

“Dragonstone?”, you asked

“I think it was, I- I had never seen it”, she explain, still catching her breath, “it was big and dark, seemed like it was built front he rock itself, and… had many dragons sculptures all over”, that was a fair description of the castle of your family

“What else did you see?”, you asked

“I took flight towards the west”, she said shakily, “over the seas until I could see a castle, surrounded by a powerful wall, and a small village, under the protection of another wall”, she said, she was with you, but her eyes were seeing something outside of the room, they were lost in her memories, “the castle was made of gray rock with reddened tiles in their towers”, you paled then, “a banner was hanging from the biggest one, two black wings over a white banner, in front of a checkered black and gray field”

“House Staunton”, you whispered, “a house front he crownlands, loyal to Rhaenyra”

“They were under siege, and I was going to help them, but then…”

“Sara…”, your heart was pounding in your chest

“Two huge beasts, Vhagar, and another golden dragon flew down upon me, jaws open, a breath of fire and I…”, her eyes filled with tears again and she wept in your arms, “I could smell the burnt flesh, and the reek of death!”, she weeped again, and you held her against you

“Shhh, it’s alright”, you whispered, “it is alright”

But it was not

You could feel it 

And you were made certain the very next day

“See that he is bathed gently”, you said to the main maid that took care of RIckon, “Even though he likes the heat, just like a little dragon”you giggled, playing with his feet, “I would bathe him myself but I have a meeting with the master at arms”

“Yes My lady”, she said gently, you liked her, she was sweet and cared for RIckon as he was her own, she took him gently and accommodate him in her arms

“Who is this handsome boy that needs a bath?”, she cooed, “let’s take a bath and let mommy focus on her meeting”, she said as she walked away

You smiled as you saw her leave the rooms, but were called by a pup, Rickon’s pup as he barked at you playfully, moving her triangular tail

“Don’t believe you are free of a bath!”, you chided playfully, and he barked again but ran to hide from you with a whimper. 

You giggled

They were really clever animals Direwolves 

But as you were preparing to leave your rooms to your meeting, there was a knock on the door

“Yes?”, you asked cheerfully, as you were the Lady of Winterfell, and you needed to show yourself strong, but the face the maester had, it immediately told you something was wrong

Very wrong

“I have letter for you, My Lady”, he said, he sounded apologetic

“What is it?”, you whispered

“One if from Dragonstone, but the other… is it from Harrenhal, from Aemond Targaryen”

You palet

you received the two small scrolls, your hand already trembling, you didn’t know which one to open first, you decided, that the one from Dragonstone

It surprised you to see it was from Rhaena, you had never had a personal relationship with her, but still you read the few lines she wrote

And as you did you whimpered, bitter tears falling from your eyes

Rhaenys was dead

Her and Melys had been burnt by Aemond and Aegon in both their dragons

Just like Sara described

Rhaena goes on saying  she wanted you to hear it from her, because she knew how dear you were to her grandmother and vice-versa

“No, no, no please”, you cried, clutching your chest, falling to your knees

“My Lady!”, the maester fell to the floor on his knees beside you, clutching you tightly, “Are alright?” he placed his hand on your forehead 

“No!”, you whined, you let out a scream of pain as you felt your heart was ripped from your chest. Sara showed up, taking the place of the maester by your side, grabbing you tightly 

“I will bring you a special tea, to calm your nerves”, he left the room

“She is gone, Aemond killed her”, you whined, grabbing into Sara, “my aunt is gone”

“I’m so sorry”, she whined, “I should have seen it sooner”

“It’s not your fault”, you whispered, your voice as broken as your spirit. You then looked at the other scroll that had fallen by your skirts, this had to mean something… something else…

You couldn’t resist, you couldn’t

You opened it

What you found there didn’t surprise you, there were threats, a warning, and a demand

You whined at the sight of his poisonous words 

But now… you jumped from the grief, straight to the anger

It was him!

The source of all your pains, all your traumas, it was him, for taking your baby nephew, and now your dear aunt

It was him

And you were the only one who could stop him

Sara looked at you, petrified and scared of what she found in your eyes

“No”, she whispered, when you looked straight ahead, tears were no longer falling from your eyes, all it was there was fire, and bloodthirst, “whatever you think you need to do…”

“I have to”, you answered barely, standing from the floor, your hands made fists

“No! you need to stay here!”, she cried, “please!”

“I am the only one who can stop him, stop this”, she took the scroll from your hand and read it, and she whimpered

“Its a trap!”, she said

But you were already on your feet, grabbing your riding gear, the thickest pants you could find and the upper part to go with it

“Please! think of Cregan! of Rickon!”, she insisted 

“Is for them I’m doing this”, you said, all emotion in your voice disappeared

“Please! they can fight him”, she insisted

“I can get close to him and kill him, I’m the only one who can”

“But at what price?”, she asked

“the debt is high already”, she whispered, “and it will only take me”

“please!”, you turned to look at Sara

“Tell Cregan I’m sorry”, you whined, tears falling down your cheeks again

“You tell him yourself!”, she insisted

“Take care of my son”, you cried, “please love him as your own”

“You will!”, she said, now desperate, “you will love him, and see him grow!”

“I did the best I could for the North, I’m sorry if it wasn't enough”, you cried

“It was! but is not over!”, she grabbed your arms, “please!”

“I’m the only one that can stop him”, you insisted, “I can kill him”, she knew there was no convincing you, she can see it in your eyes

“Please”

“No one else is going to die for me”, your voice again a flat line, “Cregan will be spared, and the crown will belong to Rhaenyra”

“But please let’s wait until we can reach Cregan”

“You know what his answer is going to be”, you said, but you realized Sara was not going to let you leave, so instead, you agreed to wait

Only to sneak out in the middle of the night, after telling the nannies to take RIckon for the night claiming you needed to be alone, they took him without question.

You couldn’t dare to see Rickon for one last time, if you did, you would second guess your decision and you couldn’t

This was more important than yourself

This was about the future of the seven Kingdoms and the future of your family and everyone you loved

This was bigger

Vhaelar was waiting for you outside the Winterfell gates, she roared into the night air but at this point you didn’t care if everyone listened, you will be in the air by the time they think they can do something to stop you

So you climbed on top of your dragon, Aemond’s words burning inside your brain

“I killed Rhaenys at Rook’s Rest, it wasn’t personal, but I know your husband is marching down with his army, you have three days to come to Harrenhal, if you do not, I will burn them alive, and then I will ride North and take you anyways. Spare the Starks, give yourself to me”

You had to answer his call

It was true, you can come to him willingly, you had a dragon, you could hide a blade in your undergarments, and after, you could slay him in his sleep or something, anything, but when he said it was the end of house Stark, it meant your baby as well, pedicide is not something you would put past Aemond. You knew he was capable and able to do it

For Rickon

For Cregan

And for Sara and the North

Yourself was a small price to pay

The night was long but you didn’t plan to stop as Vhaelar flew decisively under you

You believed you had until morning until Winterfell wakes up and sends a raven to Cregan, if you manage to fly over them it will be too late also

In the air, atop your dragon, nothing could stop you

Unless perhaps, another dragon

All night, all the way south, your mind was blank, there was only grief, pain, and rage.

You did not deemed yourself as vengeful person, and yet, you wanted it, desire it, you felt a fire growing within you, that wanted to burn everything in your path

You felt such heat within you you barely felt the still cold air that hit your face in the heights, and before you even knew it, the sun was shining in the horizon.

You felt no hunger, no tiredness, no nothing

Only the rage

It was Midday when you saw the unmistakable burnt towers of Harrenhal

Your dragon growled, like she was in pain, feeling your anger

You led her to descend upon the castle with a velocity that made your stomach drop, but you didn’t care about that, you cared about vengeance

But you were in a close distance, you felt the fire burning within you, one command and you could burn Harrenhal and the Green forces within them, Aemond probably was there, inside 

“Dra-!”

As you were going to give the order, you were interrupted by a low growl. Vhagar appeared from nowhere, pushing your dragon and you in the air

Vhaelar whined as she struggled to keep in the air and you knew then and there, that against the monstrous Vhagar, you could do nothing. Even if your dragons was one of the largest 

The Queen of dragons growled in greeting and you could feel Vhaelar’s nervousness as your own.

Or perhaps you were your own

Some people would say that you are more lamb than dragon, because of your mother’s house

But they were wrong

You were a dragon he awakened 

You landed heavily by the gates, you could see the restlessness of the soldiers in you and your dragon’s presence. You abandoned the want to burn everything, against Vhagar you couldn’t win. you had to be smart about this, she had the upper hand, the surprise factor was ruined 

“WHITE DRAGON!”, they chanted all over the walls, but you didn’t attacked them

Perhaps that is what you should do.

Burn them all

But the retaliation from King’s landing and the Greens could be worse

Aemond appeared by your side, he did not hide his smile, his happiness of seeing you there. 

Bold, you assumed, as you were near your dragon, you could burn him, here and now

The temptation was great

“You came”, he greeted, “good girl”

“I came to the call of your insanity”, you growled, he came to you, quick on his feet, you took a step backwards, still he grabbed you by the back of your neck

Vhaelar growled, dangerously, but VHagr was there, right by her side, she grabbed your dragon by the neck, furiously, dangerously

“NO!”, you screamed

Vhaelar whined in agony, and Vhagar released her, it was only a warning, but her black blood flowed profusely from the injury in her neck

“NO!”, you wanted to go to her, but Aemond held on to you tight

“If you don’t want me to finish her off, you will come with me”, he had to drag you towards the castle, as you could hear her whines of agony as her pain as if was your own

He dragged you through the halls, the stench of dead was clinging into you by every forceful step, and you whined under Aemond’s brutal hold

He threw you into a room. It held no windows, no nothing, but it was furnished with the very best he could find in his proximity, you realized. A luxurious big bed, with small tales on each side, many candles all over the room to light it up since it had no windows, and a table with chairs on one corners, tapestries on the floor and hanging from the walls to give it a more comfortable feel to it, but it didn’t hide what it was, it was a prison, only made for you

“A room for a princess”, he said mockingly, closing the door behind him, “you will stay here”

“I did as you asked”, you said, trying to regain control, “I came, I did as you said, promise me you will kill no one else”, you whined, “please”, he only smirked

“I promise I will no seek the death of anyone else”, he pleaded with a hand on his chest and another raised, but all seemed like a mockery, “I only wanted you, it is good that you finally saw this”

“I don’t understand”, you whined, “why me? after everything”

“That is not for you to know, now put on the dress I selected for you”, he said, taking your shoulders and directing you to look upon the bed, where a very revealing dark green dress was waiting for you. “You are to please me, since you are married, since you didn’t want to marry me, you will be nothing else, but my whore”

A single tear fell down your cheek as you contemplated what you willingly let your life turn into. 

@severewobblerlightdragon @missusnora @stargaryenx @poppyreader @chainsawsangel @court-jester-stuff @batprincess1013 @eddiepicker 

@lyannesworld @arujee @kamisunshine @​​mss-nthng @partypoison00 @grimistangel @elleclairez @may-machin @prettykinkysoul @justagurlwithships @champomiel 

@laura-naruto-fan1998 @zoleea-exultant @devotedlythoughtfulanchor @zoleea-exultant @llleon666 @dark-night-sky-99 @bitchigoteverythingissues @harrypotteranna23-blog

@esposadomd @ajanauia @phantomtea19 @let-love-bleeds-red @kishie8 @dreamingofyourmoons @esposadomd @sandronebabyy @kemillyfreitas @​​trifoliumviridi @dreamingofyourmoons @darling-jace @biblichorr @ivvypg @mendes-bae @borikenlove @tssf-imagines @praline357 @alitaar @prettykinkysoul @aelora-a @a-mexican-waffle @ateliefloresdaprimavera @alexa4040 @lrboyd @anditsmywholeheart  @weaselyssss  @scarlettqueen190 @deeeeexx @cloudroomblog @dreaming-of-the-reality

[audreyscribes]

Ω PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS: ✌ NIKE: Goddess of Victory 🏆

Author's note: Hello everyone! In lieu of posting the major gods demigod headcanons, here is the minor gods version!As usual these headcanons will contain what it's like being claimed and what it's like for the respective god and cabin, followed by a small story between you, the reader, and the respective demigod of that god. Thank you for reading and please like and reblog! [PJO MINOR GODS DEMIGOD HEADCANONS MASTERLIST] Disclaimer: To new fans or strictly TV watchers of the PJO series, future spoilers for the entire PJO series books will be referenced. Read at your own risk.

When you get claimed, it’s after winning. It could be beating an arm wrestling match, winning at rock paper scissors, you get the gist. 

The desire to win is so strong that it’s borderline obsessive.

Competitive is the defining word for a child of Nike. 

You have the last laugh- even if you lose at that moment, you’ll find yourself winning in the end, even if you have to play the long game. 

Perfection, or near perfection, is also part of your drive. It may not have to do with everything and anything, but it is there.

You’re athletic as heck as Athletics fall under her domain. If you weren’t before, well, not if Nike has something to say about it. Consider it the equivalent of Aphrodite’s blessing, where her children are blessed with perfect makeup and hair, except in your case, you have a boost in athletic skill, intelligence, and etc. Even if you have a chronic disease or disability, Nike has you covered in ways you didn’t know were possible. 

If you aren’t competitive, you’ll start to feel the need to win when you see someone outpacing you. This often leads to a choking hazard when more than once, a child of Nike overheard a “Let’s see who can eat the fastest!” or something of that degree. If one child of Nike starts doing it, then another will follow, and a chain of Nike children are shoveling food into their mouths. Then the sheer energy produced by the chain of children of Nike affects everyone else. Food competitions and food fights, especially, are banned in Camp Halfblood for these reasons. This is one of the few times Mr. D intervened with his godly power with his own, and oh boy. 

In games like Truth or Dare, they will definitely commit. You can imagine what’ll happen. The Hermes cabin is banned from asking or starting a Truth or Dare game when there are children of Nike around. It was not pretty. Limits were tested and broken. Absolute truths unbearable to hear as everyone felt some emotional reaction; but mostly unbearable, intense second-hand embarrassment that some just walked out of. Impossible challenges were met and there was much, much regret. Travis and Connor Stoll are, as expected, the perpetrators of this ban. 

Spite. So much Spite. You will do things out of pure spite. Being kind out of spite is also on the table. You can be even spiteful out of spite. How that works, I have no idea and only you know.

Any form of congratulatory tokens are handled by the children of Nike; especially the Laurels. 

You have a natural affinity with a child of Athena, due to her connection Athena, but also children of Ares. This is mostly due to the fact of their domain of war.

The bit of having a natural affinity with a child of Athena or Ares is crucial because more likely than not, they will either enable you or they will be the ones to pull you back and give you a down to earth level. This is usually done by the children of Athena, but when an Ares’ child does it? Oh then you know, a line has been crossed.

Depending on how many Nike children there are, Chiron does his best to split you guys in the middle, and put one half in the team with the Are’s team, and the other half with the Athena’s team. This is to balance out of the gods on the behest of the Nemesis cabin due to…incidents. Very bloody and catastrophic incidents. 

Likewise on never challenging a child of Nike, this also applies vise-versa. NEVER ACCEPT A CHILD OF NIKE’S CHALLENGE. YOU WILL LOSE. YOU WILL REGRET IT. A CHILD OF NIKE’S CHALLENGE IS ONE THEY KNOW THEY WILL ABSOLUTELY, GUARANTEED WIN. [Accept at your own risk and peril.] 

There’s a 120% guarantee that a child of Nike will take any challenge with any sort of prize. It doesn’t matter if it’s something very minor like a cheap toy, they will do what it takes to win it. The icing on the cake? There’s a rumour that there’s an actual prize that Nike herself promised to her children that whoever wins the most by the end of the year, they will receive a prize from herself. Most people know it's a golden laurel, but there’s a rumour that they could earn a pair of golden wings much like Nike herself (of course a dumb down version but still very powerful regardless). The kicker about this? The bar is set higher every year; where the children of Nike must win at least above the minimum from the previous year. The bar is constantly moving. No one’s sure if it’ll end. 

Don’t worry though, the children of Nike have (some sort of) honour in winning. Sure they might use tricks and schemes to win, but there won’t be any dirty or easy wins from them. They’ll earn their win as fairly/honourably/squarely as it can be. On the other hand, if it’s an easy win or win by default, some children of Nike might not take it. 

You were coming down from the high of winning and the claim of Nike over your head. When Chiron announced who your godly parent was, you thought “Yeah that sounds about right” and as you were basking in the afterglow, you heard incessant yelling from the distance that was quickly getting louder. 

People were either moving to the side, diving and pushing others to get out of the way, and those who didn’t were bouldered over by a pair of identical twin girls. They both had brown hair and were practically pushing at each others’ heads, while rushing towards you while trying to push the other away, but inevitably were knocking others around them down.

They looked around before their eyes locked on you and you froze like a deer in the headlights as they barreled over to you as they both stuck their hands out at the same time, and yelled in your face excitedly,

“Hi! I’m Holly Victor, child of Nike and cabin leader!” “Hi! I’m Laurel Victor, child of Nike and cabin leader!” 

Their words sounded like you were hearing stereo and you were reeling from everything. Upon instinct, your hands both stuck out to take their hands and before you could even think of introducing yourself back, the twins snapped their heads at each other and they glowered, 

“Hey I was first! No, I was! Stop copying me! I won first!” they both said and your head was spinning. 

You stammered out an introduction, as helpless at it may be but they’re focus turned to you just as you finished saying, “-and who are you guys…?”

Before the two girls could even think to explain first, Chiron stepped from behind them and placed his hands on their heads to get them to stop. 

“They’re Laurel and Holly Victor, twin sisters and daughters of Nike, just like you. They’re also the cabin leaders of the Nike cabin” he introduced. 

“But aren’t there supposed to be one cabin leader…?” 

“Normally yes, however, when deciding who would, being children of Nike, the two argued and fought for a very long time to be cabin leader before we all agreed it was better for both sisters to be cabin leaders.”

You paled at your future being at the Nike cabin as you prayed to your godly parent for strength, but remember they got this from Nike, and more importantly-

The Victor twins both grinned and shook your hands at the same time, “Welcome to the Nike cabin, new sibling!”  

You just stared at them and thought, ‘This is going to redefine sibling rivalry in all history of sibling rivalry” 

[hmshermitcraft]

(For the theme!)

Watchers and Listeners can see and hear ghosts respectively.

Grian, Pearl, BigB, Martyn and Jimmy all were something between paranoid and miserable during the Life Games.

Grian couldn’t handle the sight of Scar’s spirit with a hurt look, and ended it right then and there, Mumbo being a spirit in DL didn’t help. Pearl struggled during Double Life, and Lizzie would egg her on, who was none too pleased with the way Pearl was being treated. BigB was glad that he died before in LL Cleo, he didn’t want to figure out what would happen then. Martyn was usually pestered by Jimmy after he got out, because he knew Martyn was the only one able to actually Hear Jimmy. During LimLife, Martyn also had the added pain of hearing Ren along with his former husband, Mumbo. Jimmy is just glad that there’s one upside to being out first consistently.

Scott knew about the ability. Jimmy had disclosed it to him back in Third Life, when their lives were so closely intertwined. He often felt bitter that Jimmy died first. At least if it were the other way around, he'd be able to talk to Jimmy still.

He's always had his suspicions about others, but it's probably rude to outright ask. Scott gets the feeling Jimmy wasn't supposed to tell him to begin with, but it was hard to miss something bothering his husband. And Jimmy has always been an awful liar.

He should've guessed Martyn had similar abilities. Scott had noticed before the man sometimes seemed unfocused, but it's even worse living with him in Limited Life. The moment those first deaths happen Scott is constantly fighting for his attention.

Scott wouldn't mind it, but Martyn needs a nap. He can't have one if ghosts are pestering him all the time.

So, he picks up a broom (such a silly thing for a death game, but Scott would rather die than have an ugly base.) Waving it around, he tells whatever ghosts that may be hanging out this is a ghost free zone until Martyn's slept. Otherwise Scott will hold a reaaaaaaaaaalllllllllyyyyyyy long grudge. And try to hit them with this broom.

He thinks it works, because Martyn sleeps perfectly that night. He's tucked against Scott's side, cradled by his arm. Scott smiles at the sight.

(The betrayal still hurts, but he knows Martyn well enough not to be surprised. Yet... he doesn't think it was the ghosts speaking to him, then. He doesn't know what it was.)

[shallyouobeyme]

Castle

Platonic!Yandere Vampire ErasterMic!Family x Toddler!Reader (GN)

Summary: Upon a hill over a small town stands a castle. It's vampiric inhabitants get a sacrifice every generation, but one year, they find a little child bundled up in a blanket at their door.

! Minors Do Not Interact !

TW: Sacrificing a child (you), mention of mugging, fighting, attacks, murder + torture (not descriptive and not towards reader), vampires, being turned into a vampire, illness, dark content, I do not condone this - this is all just fantasy

There was a custom in a small town lying in the valley under a hill which adorned the horizon along with the great castle standing on top of it unshakable, permanent, unaging - just like its inhabitants. There were legends going through generations of people living in the castle's shadow. According to them, the castle housed four very specific, mythical creatures. A man of shadows who could only be seen in the night and whose sight was said to be linked with an imminent death. A banshee who could act like a siren and lure you in, only to them scream with the voices of all the souls who have lost their lives because of him. An undead boy who could make you see things, hear things, do things, which would shake any living thing to their core. And at the last, a girl pale as a sheet, with hair white as snow - a ghost, said to be one of their former victims (according to some even their first), who was hunting the castle to warn others who'd share her fate and remind the creatures who had caused her death of their rotten soul.

Along with the legends and myths, the custom developed as well - it came from a place of fear and dread, from a time when deaths rid the town of most of its people and the only cause they could discern was that they had attracted the anger of their mythical watchers - and now it was common practice for every generation to chose a sacrifice to bring to the gates of the castle to gratify the rage of it's owners. Usually, it would be one of the elderly who volunteered themselves, knowing that they had not long to live and wanting to see what all the legends were about at least once in their life. Because except for the sacrificial rite no one was allowed to climb the hill to the castle.

By the time the most unusual and determinative sacrifice happened, the medics of the town had realized that the deaths they had in the past blamed on the creatures were caused by natural reasons - most crucial, the plague. But still, the custom stayed, because why would they change the habit that had kept the townspeople safe for all these years? There was just one thing that was different by that time - it had probably been the result of more health and people having fewer children - but for the first time in generations, there were no elderly who were close to dying, all the elderly who were around were still healthy and fit. And so, one family offered to make the ultimate sacrifice, as they had a young child of only a few years of age who they'd be bringing to the gates. The child was old enough to walk and talk, but not old enough to understand what was happening. And furthermore, the child was ill and sickly. They had been born with their ailment and the doctors saw no possibility of betterment, giving them only a few more years of life before the ailment would take them.

And so it was decided for the best all to lose their child in exchange for the happiness of all the other children they would have and that were living around them. On the night of the summer solstice, their parents put the child into warm clothes and carry their sleeping form up the hill. They knew that the least they needed to do was bring them away together and spend their last moments on this earth as a family. When they arrived at the gate, they rolled their child in a blanket and laid her down in front of it, before the father took the mother's hand and used the knocker that would never work from that distance at any other house. The parents gave their child one last kiss and then solemnly made their way back down the hill to their lives.

On the opposite side of the gate were a family at dinner - or at least as similar to dinner as it was possible for this family. They were sitting around a table with chalices before them, filled with dark, red, liquid that some might assume to be wine. It was not. The family had been living in the castle for centuries. And it was not the fathers and mothers of the people living in it now, no, it had been the exact same people as were sitting around the table now, unchanged like the building they were living in. Unlike what the townspeople assumed, the family of vampires had no interest in ending the lives of the people below them, they had long since switched to an animal-based diet. Still, they also had no interest in stopping their little habit of sacrifices, because it kept them unbothered, and kept the people of the town just afraid enough to not dare enter their homes. And since the sacrificial humans were usually already smelling of death, they had no issue putting them out of their misery - giving the old humans the happiness of letting them know what they had been wondering about for their entire lives.

As the family was talking about the latest news and interests that had been going on in their very exclusive, very secretive society of vampiric creatures spread around the entire world, Aizawa looked out of the window and sighed. He wondered about how fast the last 25 years had passed, but stood up and went out to the gate nonetheless. He wondered a little bit about the unusual breathing and heartbeat pattern heard coming from the human. It had been centuries since he had bothered with visiting or listening to other humans so while his ears were as good as ever, he had some difficulties distinguishing between the differences in them just based on their sounds and smells. So he assumed that this human was just weaker than usual.

All this led to all the more of a surprise when he opened the gate and found not an elderly human looking to find their end for the greater good, but instead a little bundled-up child. You - looking slightly younger than their own daughter had been when she was turned by a nefarious vampire looking to extend their clan - looked so weak, so frail, and as Aizawa looked at you, for the first time in centuries he was reminded of his own time as a mortal. Back then he and Yamada had to hide their love, their romance forbidden for multiple reasons. Not only were they both men, no they were also part of opposite sides of a war, though on the nights when they both sneaked away to spend their time embraced without having to worry about the rest of the world, they spent their time dreaming of having a life together, living without fear and most importantly, taking care of a little life of their own. A child. And when they had been turned, that dream had been mostly fulfilled.

Now they were powerful enough to live without fear together and a few decades later they stumbled upon a dying boy - a mugger who had stolen from them earlier, but as they hunted him down to get their stuff back they found him giving away the stolen goods to the children living in the street without a way to make their own way of survival. When he had also thrown himself in the way of a fight that had escalated and an attack meant for Yamada, it had been clear to them they could not leave him to die. And so they turned him and gained their son. And while they loved him as if he was their own - he was in a sense, the bond forged by turning someone almost as strong as the bond of blood mortals had - he had still already been a young adult when they had 'adopted' him.

Their gaining Eri for their family had been similar. She had already been a vampire for years when they had saved her and while she still looked the part of a young child, she had already been mindful and conscious of things a child would never be, she was a teenager or even an adult trapped in the body of a child.

So when Aizawa looked down at you, he saw this dream of theirs, the dream of raising a child of their own, and he saw the possibility of that now happening. When he brought you back in it was safe to say that his idea was taken in with a lot of enthusiasm, Yamada taking you out of Aizawa's arms and cuddling you close to him - so very happy to have a little you like you so close to him. Oh, how adorable you were, how precious - it was like he finally found what he was waiting for all of his immortal life. Eri was over the moon as well, stating that she had always wanted to be a big sister, that she'd do her best to make sure you'd grow up safe and surrounded by love, and that she wouldn't let anything harm you.

Shinsou was the one who stated something that the rest of the family had forgotten to think about through their joy. Someone had sacrificed you to them, had left you to what they thought to be a soon and possibly painful death. Shinsou's eyes were filled with rage, infectious rage and bloodlust that he hadn't felt since he'd been turned first, as he thought about how someone could leave such a little, weak thing as you to your death knowingly. And so, you were left with Yamada who was not quite ready to let go of you yet, and Eri who insisted on you getting a room near hers (even though you'd spent your next years sleeping in your new parent's bed) and to be there when you awoke to keep you calm in your new surrounded.

While they were already planning your new life, Aizawa and Shinsou made their way down that hill for the first time in a long while, with fire and fury in their steps, knowing that they'd leave no one alive - all of the townspeople at fault for letting you be sacrificed in their eyes. They had only had you with them for less than a day, but one look at you cuddling into Aizawa and Yamadas was enough to have them put you into their hearts and they'd bring hell before letting you go again. So no matter if young or old, male or female or in between, sick or healthy, every single mortal in that town paid their due that day, most of all your own parents whom they recognized by their smell and made suffer for as long as they could before they felt like they needed to see you again to make sure you were doing okay and ended your families misery.

It was clear that your life would be very different from now on, you would be coddled and loved, spoiled and protected. You were still so young that you didn't really worry about the fact that there were these strange people calling themselves your daddies and siblings for longer than a month or two, after that, you accepted your new situation. You enjoyed the attention, loved playing with Eri, dressing up with Yamada, taking naps with Aizawa and getting told stories by Shinsou. Your new life was happy and joyful and you didn't even notice how protective and obsessive your new family was. Leaving the castle wasn't an option anymore - which you didn't worry about too much given how big the castle felt to you - and neither was being alone. There was always one of them with you unless you were sleeping, and even then someone was close to you, close enough to race to you when they heard the difference in breathing patterns of you waking up.

Upon multiple protective measures, it was Shinsou who took it into his hands to tell you stories that made you scared of being alone and leaving the safety of your home - it hurt him to see you so scared, but the feeling of having you run into his arms for comfort when you were afraid of a shadow outside of the window, made it all worth it. Only once you started seeing evil in anything outside and started fearing things around you once you were alone did he tone it down a bit, knowing that he would not have to worry about you leaving them for the time being. His parents had claimed that it wasn't necessary since someone was with you at all times, but they didn't intervene when he started so he assumed they were fine with it.

Aizawa and Yamada loved having your young innocent around them, it reminded them that there was still goodness left in the world, but they still decided that they would not turn you until you were old enough to agree to it. They couldn't promise that they'd listen to you even if you didn't agree - already knowing that they could never let you go - but they at least wanted you to have the opportunity to feel like you made the choice on your own.

Of course, there was still your illness. Your family had many connections in the world thanks to their community of vampiric friends so they had access to the top medication and the best doctors and you got all of that. Everything to make sure you were as healthy as possible and relieved of any pain. The only thing that might change the way they had decided your turning would go would be if your condition worsened if there was no chance of healing anymore. Then, turning you would be an immediate reaction. And who knows, maybe them having you being their little toddler for the rest of eternity - never growing and being coddled by them to make sure you stay as innocent as you are now - was the best thing that could happen to you since they had found you at their gate.

N/A: Thank you to @dumpster-dive-reading for the inspiration behind this and thank you all for reading this. If you enjoyed it I'd love to read your thoughts. Tomorrow's entry for Yandere Writetober is going to be 'dagger' and let's just say while I'm not sure yet, I have a very mischievous character in mind for this. See you then ❤️

[seraphiism]

❀ ﾟ. ༄ ┊ 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ( 𝐩𝐭. 𝐢𝐢𝐢 ) ;

chara : cyno / alhaitham / tighnari fandom : genshin impact

↬ cyno ࿐ ࿔

the role cyno plays is a heavy one : judgement & justice hand in hand in an act of righteousness as he deems another to fate. how quick it is for one's wrongdoings to meld into something deeper, deserved, and decayed into a sin they will learn to shoulder for the rest of a lifetime. you hold back a sigh, brows furrowed only the slightest bit in suppressed concern as you discard sanguine drenched gauze. you almost forget the danger that lurks in the shadows, expression growing grim as the seconds pass. cyno notices, smiles ever so faintly as he calls your name in gentle tones and meets your gaze.

"i guess someone--" he pauses, dramatic, and perhaps the final straw in your relationship lies in the moment he pulls a genius invokation card from behind his ear, "decked me."

you stare at him, deadpan. he stares back, also deadpan. this is far too unsettling.

"oh yeah? got decked in your bleeding knee, huh?"

"oh. well, you see-- i actually scraped my knee--"

"falling for me?"

cyno pauses again, clears his throat so incredibly loudly you wonder if it hurt doing so. you roll your eyes, don't bother to even hide the way your lips curl in amusement as you pinch his cheeks. his words of protest die down when you kiss him on the nose and you almost think you will hear them again with the way he frowns once you pull away from him.

"i don't love you, dearest general."

"okay, well that actually hurts to hear."

you laugh, feel his arms wrap around your waist as he looks at you expectantly. you press a kiss to his temple, see the way his countenance lightens at your affection.

"kidding, kidding. i do. i'm glad you're okay."

↬ alhaitham ࿐ ࿔

you almost wonder if alhaitham is human -- a silly thing to ponder, truthfully, but you do not think you've yet encountered someone who seeks logic in all things and seldom succumbs to feelings and instinct. & it's unfortunate, almost -- to feel anything remotely close to love for someone who does not know the heaviness of it.

there is a strange feeling that brews in your chest : a nervousness, a knowing anxiety, and so you clench your jaw in frustration, place your focus elsewhere as to seek haven in denial of such foolishness. you wrap the bandages around his hands, try to ignore the foreign and comforting tenderness that sends shivers down your spine every time your fingertips brush.

"you are worried."

his voice cuts through steel air, forces you to freeze in your movements. you swallow hard, look him in the eye. you wish you could understand. you wish you could read him, know what lies in a dormant heart. but you don't. you don't, and it doesn't mean anything, not really, but somehow, it hurts anyway and you think you hate that the most.

"i'm not." you tell him, ignore the way he raises a brow at the short response. "it's a few scratches on your hands, nothing major. i'm only doing this out of courtesy."

"that's not what i'm talking about." alhaitham studies you further, makes you feel too seen and understood without a single explanation. you think to resume wrapping the bandages once again, but he grabs your hands, prevents you from moving away. you still, hold your breath, feel the way his hold tightens if only by a slight amount as if testing the waters.

"enough tending to me." he leans forward, closes the distance that separates you. "tell me what's on your mind."

↬ tighnari ࿐ ࿔

"so... did you know that plant was alive?"

you imagined this would happen one day, given the nature of the forest watcher. a peaceful day turned to chaos, a leisurely exploration turned to a rather stressful yet memorable lesson. tighnari winces as you rub the ointment into his skin, red and pink patches adorning his body. he throws you a strange look, almost finds himself distracted from the pain at your words.

"all plants are alive, technically."

you sigh.

"remember when you ate that mushroom and didn't sleep for three days?"

how was he supposed to know that plant was particularly carnivorous? there's a trial and error with these things-- a system of sorts. not that he has the most optimal methods of research and learning, but he gets things done at the very least, so who can complain?

( him, probably. he is truly suffering right now. who knew plants had such sharp teeth? )

"for research. someone has to learn these things." he stares at the ceiling, entirely absentminded, until a flicker of seriousness graces his expression. "this was also for research, too, by the way. in case you were wondering."

"i wasn't."

"you are now."

"i was wondering about something i already know the answer to?"

"yes. your quiz will be tomorrow morning, pass or fail. i expect only the best results."

you scoff in disbelief, but the grin on your face betrays your seemingly annoyed visage. a quiet fills the air as you continue to attend to the numerous rashes, touch gentle as not to irritate them further.

"thank you for your help." tighnari's voice is softer now; you would have completely overlooked it had it not been for the blush on his cheeks.

you nod, silent, offer a timid smile as you press your lips against his for only a moment.

"i lied. that was your quiz. you pass."

"stop ruining the moment, tighnari."

[mishwanders]

• Five Times You Share A Night With Twilight + The One Time You Do Something About It •

Summary: exactly what the title says.

Warnings/tags: GN! Reader, Hurt/Comfort, tooth rotting fluff, some comedy between the group, flirty Twi, there’s only one bed. Safe for Everyone.

Author’s Notes: I ain’t gonna lie y’all, this one is longer than what I usually write. I hope you enjoy it! Written by Mishwanders

{1}

After a long period of traversing through the woods of Hyrule, the Chain and you were finally able to make camp for the evening. As you were placing down your bed roll for the night, you took notice as to who was around you. To your surprise,someone was missing.

“Anyone seen Twi?”

The others looked around as well at each other, but all of them either shrugged or shook their heads in response.

“I’m sure he’ll be back soon. He probably just went to secure the perimeter.” Legend reassured you.

You nodded, continuing to pull out the rest of your stuff for the night. You took the measure to pull out Twilight’s bed roll as well from his pack, placing it down beside your own, just in case he came back and everyone else outside of the watch were asleep. You smiled to yourself as you made sure it was laid out nice and neat, placing his pillow and blanket at the head of it so he wouldn’t have to go digging for his things in the dark. As you were doing so, you happened to catch the attention of Wild who was eyeing you where he was stationed with the food. You shrugged at him and he gave you a knowing nod.

By the time that dinner had been eaten and the campfire dealt with, you all fell into your respective areas of respite, each of the Links dozing off one by one, all except for the watcher off in the distance and you.

You couldn’t help but toss and turn the entire night, constantly looking over at Twilight’s sleeping bag, wishing he were there next to you. It’s not that you liked him (at least that’s what you kept telling yourself), you just liked having him close by. His presence was always warm and comforting, he was gracious enough to allow you to borrow his bear pelt when you got cold too. You felt as if you could relax in his presence compared to some of the more strict and rigid personalities of a few of the others (don’t even try to ask Legend of a blanket - it’s probably cursed anyway).

You stayed up longer, waiting to see when he would show, but as your eyelids began to grow heavier, you could hear the slow trot of paws against the rough ground. The dark shadowy figure of Wolfie came approaching you, sniffing vigorously at the bed roll Twilight should have been in. You slowly sat up to rest on an elbow, alerting the wolf that you were still awake. You greeted him with a smile and a small whisper.

“Twi’s not back yet. If you want, can you come sleep with me instead.” You stated, opening up your blanket to show there was room.

The wolf stared at you for a moment, blue eyes taking in the situation at hand. You weren’t even 100% sure he would take the offer - he typically preferred to sleep next to Wild. But to your surprise, the beast agreed, walking closer to you and plopping down beside you under your raised arm. It took everything in you not to squeal over the fact that Wolfie actually chose to stay by your side tonight (ya know, and not Wild, since he apparently likes him so much). You slowly lowered your arm down over him, allowing the blanket to encompass you both, keeping your arm gently on his fur. You laid your head back down on your pillow, gently stroking a small area of Wolfie’s fur, feeling him snuggle even closer to you. The wolf smelt like cedar - a common scent you knew that followed Twilight as well. It was comforting having the beast with you, feeling how warm he was next to you. He was like a heater biting off the cold night air. You found yourself growing more and more relaxed with him by your side. Twilight may not have been here, but Wolfie was, and with him by your side, you found yourself easily drifting to sleep for the rest of the night.

{2}

The Chain had traveled far off through another portal chasing after the Shadow that quickly got away without a trace. After a while of searching for the malevolent beast, you all decided to make camp once more for the evening, preparing for what was hopefully a restful night ahead. As you pulled out your bedroom, you noticed Twilight with his own, coming up beside you to lay out his next to yours. You gave him a warm smile, pleasantly surprised to see him. “Back so soon?”

“Time said he’d take over securing the perimeter tonight.” Twilight replied, dropping his bedroll draping along the ground.

You nodded, watching him pillow out his blanket and pillow. “How thoughtful of him.”

Twilight breathed out a laugh and smiled. “He can be when he wants to. Speakin’ o’ which, it was thoughtful of you to take care of Wolfie.”

He was looking directly at you when he spoke of his beloved beastly friend. His pretty blue eyes sparkling in the firelight caused an embarrassed heat to erupt over your face at his praise. “I-It was no problem! I was awake anyway and honestly I felt kind of honored. He never chooses me!”

With that you heard Wild, Legend, and Sky snickering to the side, knowing full well that they all heard you. Twilight shot them a look, which didn’t deter their behavior quite like Time’s did, but it was good enough for Wild to stop in his tracks. Twilight shook his head at their behavior and turned his attention back to you.

“Don’t listen to ‘em. Besides, I know Wolfie was very happy to sleep next to you.” Twilight reassured you.

“Oh yeah? What are you, some kind of animal whisperer?” You asked playfully.

He chuckled at that comment. “I’ve known Wolfie for long ‘nough to know he appreciated a warm bed for once.”

“I wouldn’t mind having him back as a cuddle buddy.” You laughed, “He was a soft heater throughout the night.”

“I’ll let him know, I know he’ll be more than happy to take you up on that offer.” He replied, a smile plastered on his face, looking sweeter than honey.

“Uh huh, sure he will.” Legend interrupted, gaining your attention. You raised an eyebrow in confusion at him.

“Oh, can it Vet.” Wars spoke up from the otherside of the fire, already in his bed.

“You can’t tell me what to do.” Vet snapped back.

“Yeah, shouldn’t you be getting your ‘beauty sleep’ anyway?” Wind chimed in.

Wars feigned hurt, lifting his eye mask to look at it. “Not you too, Sailor.”

You looked over towards Four and Hyrule, who were laughing at the words being thrown back and forth in front of them before Time silently stalked up behind them all. You laughed as his voice boomed, startling the ever living daylights out of them - a shrill scream leaving the two just caused more laughter to erupt from the group. Time shook his head and chuckled. “He may not be able to tell you what to do, but I can. You’re taking the second shift Vet, so I’d get that shut eye while you can.”

Legend grimaced at the mention of that. The laughter soon died out, everyone getting ready for bed. You slipped under your thin blanket, feeling the cool breeze still reaching you through it. You rolled over on your side and whispered to Twilight. “Is it okay if I borrow your bear pelt again?”

He turned to face you, opening one eye. “You cold?”

You nodded and he sat up to pull it out of his pack, leaning to drape over you. “There ya go, Darlin’.”

You felt the heat in your cheeks erupt, burying them under the pelt so he couldn’t see. You smiled, causing your eyes to squint up at him as you whispered a muffled thank you. He smiled down at you. “No problem, sugar.”

GOSH DARN IT TWI-

{3}

Nightmares were never easy, especially when they were about the troubles at home.

It was another night, another camp site. You had been startled out of your sleep, feeling your heart pounding in your chest. Your throat was incredibly dry as you panted, forcing you to shuffled around your bag for your canteen. You took a sip of him, feeling the cool water wash down your throat, taking in a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself.

It was just a dream. Nothing more.

At least that’s what you hoped for.

You took a chance to look around you in the darkness. Everyone else was still asleep, except for the watch, who just so happened to be Twilight at that hour. You felt your body shaking in your attempt to calm yourself, but the cold wind was not helping you with that. Maybe you needed to get up and walk for a bit, clear your mind.

You slid out of your bed, standing up as quietly as possible as you wrapped yourself in your blanket and pulled your boots on. You did go for a small walk, taking in the surroundings draped in the darkness of night. Your eyes however, did catch a glint of the golden chainmail that Twilight wore. He was fairly close to the camp, leaving his back against the tree. You made your way over to him, trudging through the grass. It caught his attention and he quickly turned his head in your direction, cocking his eyebrow in surprise.

“What ‘re you doin’ up, darlin’?” He asked quietly.

You settled on the ground next to him, holding the blanket close to your body. “I had a nightmare.”

He looked at you softly. “Wanna talk about it?”

You looked up into his eyes again, feeling a tug at your heart. You gently sighed and told him what you dream was as you rested your head on his shoulder. “I just can’t get my mind off of home and what kind of havoc the Shadow has been wrecking there, who he’s hurt already. I’m worried to say the least.”

He wrapped his arm around you, keeping you close. He was warm and smelt like cedar, as always. You were thankful for the gesture, the shelter from the cool air. “I know how you feel.”

You leaned in closer to him, taking in the scent of him, allowing it to fill your lungs. You both sat there for a while, listening to the sounds of the forest surrounding you, every cirp of the bugs in the grass, watching the subtle glow of the fireflies. It was quiet, it relaxed you.

“Twi, is it okay if I stay here for the rest of your watch? I don’t want to be alone.”

You felt his grip around your shoulder tighten around you ever so slightly. “Go ahead, Darlin’. You’ll be safe with me.”

You moved in closer to him, melding into his side. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, allowing yourself to slowly drift to sleep as he gently rubbed your arm. You felt safe in his presence, protected. It was just enough to help you fall back to sleep, where no nightmares plagued you again for the rest of the night.

{4}

Goddesses - it shouldn’t have happened like this!

Time carried Twilight into the inn while the others were still out dealing with the Shadow. You felt like your world was swirling around you, a cave collapsing in on you when you helplessly watched Twilight (who you now knew was Wolfie) get hit with an almost deadly blow by the shadow. Everyone was scrambling, no one had been seriously injured by the Shadow up to this point. If it hadn’t been for Time and Wars, you would have felt like you were drowning under the weight of what was happening.

You were quick to snap out of your trance of helplessness when Time addressed you, dragging you away with him. Someone had to stay by his side while someone else ran to get the healer and you were quick to find one while he stayed in the room with a bloodied and battered Twilight.

When you found the healer you quickly dragged them back to the inn, guiding them up the steps to his room, where they began to tend to him. You watched at their side, over their shoulder with Time, assisting with whatever the healer needed. You all made quick work of getting him cleaned up and the wound dressed, but the healer was unable to do anything more about it. He was stuck with the Shadow in his system, he was now going to have to fight it from the inside.

You knew the darkness must have been trying to wreak havoc in him, trying to break down his resolve, down to the very fiber of his being. When Hyrule and the others came back, they all offered up the potions they had, even Hyrule’s magic, but nothing worked, nothing could stop this.

It had been a long afternoon of worrying over his state, the rest of the Chain came in and out of the room at various occasions while you and Time primarily stayed by his side. But as the evening turned into night, you and Time had decided to take shifts watching him, to make sure someone was always there, just in case something happened.

During one of your shifts, you found yourself leaning against the edge of your seat, arms resting on your thighs as you watched him breath, noticing how shallow his chest rose and fell, how much paler he grew under the moonlight, as if the very life was being wrestled away from him, pulling it out of his grasp. You felt completely helpless to stop it, forced to watch his life slowly crumble and fade before your own eyes.

You wish you had said something before all of this, had confessed your feelings towards the one person who ever truly made you feel safe. Now he was dying in front of you and he would never truly know how much you cared about him, how much better you wanted to know him.

A shaken breath escaped you as you took his hand in yours. His hands were cold and clammy, but you held it close to you, trying to warm them up. You couldn’t help but feel the tears sting your dry and tired eyes as you looked down at him, a string of whispered words leaving your lips.

You weren’t one to pray to the goddess, but tonight was an exception. You quietly begged and pleaded with her to do something, anything to save him from a deadly fate.

But nothing happened.

It felt as if your prayers were falling on deaf ears, never seeing a change in his worsening state. Your tears were streaming down your cheeks by now, dropping down your chin to the edge of the bed as you sniffled. You pressed your lips to his knuckles, shaking as you whispered, “Twi, please keep fighting this. I don’t want to be without you. I love you.”

You felt his hand gently twitch in yours, almost as if he were about to hold it. You wondered if he heard your plea for him to keep fighting in his state. You continued to hold his hand for the remainder of your watch, keeping it close, hoping that he would know that you were there by his side, so he didn’t have to fight this alone.

{5}

Days had passed since the incident with the Shadow, and to everyone's surprise, Twilight pulled through. Although he was awake, he was still recovering from the draining efforts it took to fight off the Shadow that had attacked him from the inside, in need of lots of rest.

Everyone took their turns visiting him, the whole group of them gathering into his room at multiple points until he grew exhausted by the lively interactions of them all, his side hurting from the laughter they brought him with all of the timely dog jokes. You couldn’t help but smile, watching him from across the room, noticing the life return to him even more as the days went by, as he grew stronger again. You felt relieved knowing that he would be okay in the end, your worries easing over, hopefully to never return with another scare like that.

It was late into the evening when dinner occurred and you brought him some food from the dining area, taking the moment to sit with him in peace while the others were down stairs discussing Hylia know what. You sat there and discussed whatever came to your mind as well, talking about the mischief you’d gotten into with Legend in the town with the other merchants, trying to keep his spirits up with the fact that they scored some pumpkins for some delicious soup to be made the next night, but you could see he was lost in his own thoughts, that fire in his eye replaced with pensiveness.

When you were both done with the food, you placed the plates on the side table and looked at him. “You alright, Rancher?”

“Hm? Yeah, just thinkin’.” He replied

“Would you like to talk about it?” You asked, looking at him concerned.

“It’s just - it’s all been a lot, almost dyin’ an’ all. Everything hurt, I felt like I was being held underwater, struggling against a current, but It’s like I was aware of what was happenin’ around and unable to do anything. I felt completely helpless to stop it.”

You nodded, listening to him intently as he continued.

“Out of all of it I could still hear what was happening around me - I heard everyone’s concern for me. Did you and Time even leave my side?” He asked, “I didn’t need either of you gettin’ sick worryin’ ova’ me.”

You chuckled, “What can I say? We both care about you - everyone does.”

“Yeah, I know. You made that very clear. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you pray before.” He commented.

“I-I don’t.” You replied, looking down at your hands.

“So why’d you do it for me?” He asked

You let out a deep sigh before looking up at him again.“I felt like I was running out of options. You felt helpless to do anything, I felt helpless just watching you deteriorate. I might not be on the best of terms with any god, but I know Hylia favors you and the others. At the very least, I could make a plea for you, on your behalf.”

“So you meant every word of it?” He asked in return.

You nodded. “Every word.”

“Including the last bit - the part where you said you loved me?”

Your eyes widened a bit in surprise as he brought it up, realizing he truly had heard every whispered word. He chuckled at your reaction, noticing how embarrassed you grew by his statement. He took your hand in his, keeping his gaze on yours as he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. “You don’t have to be shy, Darlin’. I just wanna know if it was true.”

You gently nodded, “Yeah. I meant every word.”

Twilight's face cracked into a smile at the sound of that. Even he looked away shyly for a moment before returning his gaze back to yours. “Well, this wasn’t the way I was intendin’ on tellin’ ya, but, considering everything that’s happened, there’s no time like the present. I feel the same about you.”

Your embarrassment turned to shocked relief, your eyes growing wider as you spoke up. “Really?”

He nodded. “Really.”

You gently squeezed his hand back, a smile growing on your face. Before you could even open your mouth to speak again though, one of the others came barging into the room to check on the two of you.

“Hey, how’s the food tast-“ Four stopped in his stead at the doorway when he noticed the two of you holding hands, his eyes bouncing around the scene before he finally asked, “Did you finally tell them?”

Twilight gave him a knowing look - don’t tell the others. Fours face lit up as he leaned against the doorframe. “It’s about time! Looks like Wars won the bet though.”

You turned your head around so fast at the mention of the bet. “You all were betting on us?!”

Four gave a shy smile as he tried to steer his way out of the conversation. “Oh would you look at the time - I gotta go -“

With that he ran off back downstairs. You turned your gaze back to Twilight and shook your head with a laugh. “How long do you think we have until the others find out?”

“A minute, tops.”

You could already hear the shuffling of boots coming up the stairwell. Looks like five seconds was all it really took.

This was going to be a long, interesting night.

{6}

Another portal, another Hyrule, thankfully with another functioning Castle Town, which meant you got to stay in another inn.

You pulled Twilight up the stairs behind you, guiding him towards a room. With the Chain it was always fair game who got which room and you were hoping whichever one you chose had some decently comfy beds - and it did, but there was one problem.

There was only one bed.

You were half tempted to back out of the room, but you bumped into Twilight's chest as he moved past you into space, plopping his things down inside. You felt the heat flood your cheeks as your thoughts began to run with the idea of sharing a bed with him. You felt crazy - it’s not like you hadn’t shared a bed with him before, but you hadn’t done so since you both confessed your feelings for the other and actively became a couple.

Twilight turned to look at you, that sweet honey smile settled on his lips. He held out his hand to you, beckoning you closer. “Don’t be shy, Darlin’, c’mere.”

You made your way over to him, where he proceeded to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you closer into him. He gazed into your eyes as he leaned his head down, resting his forehead against yours. Every gesture of his made you melt even more as he held you.

“Finally, some peace and quiet -“

“Aawww!”

Twilight groaned at the sound of Sky’s voice coming from the doorway, turning his attention to him. “May I help you?”

Sky had a cheeky grin on his face at the sight of you two. “I’m sorry, you two just look adorable. Continue.”

You leaned in closer to Twilight, resting your head against his chest. “I know we do, but what did you need?”

Sky chuckled at your reply and gestured out the door. “Food will be ready soon, figured I’d inform you before Wind attempts to steal someone’s plate again.”

You chuckled, remembering how mad Wild was the last time that happened. “Thanks Sky.”

You two made your way downstairs after him to eat with the others, dodging the others incessant teasing with ease. As the evening drew on, all of you finally made your way to your respective rooms. You sat on the edge of the bed, resting back on your hands as you spoke with Twilight, watching him change out of his shirt to sleep. As he did, you could see the raised scars littering his skin, all of which gained from one battle or another, but you couldn’t get our eyes off of the one the Shadow left him.

It was different from the others, maybe because it was still fairly fresh compared to anything else. You felt your attention be drawn to it, seeing the fine black markings along it, knowing it wasn’t necessarily from an infection, but more because of the source of the one who wounded him. You couldn’t get the sight of him so pale and close to death out of your head, how easily you could have lost him that night.

Twilight noticed the change in your demeanor as you stared at it, stepping closer to you as he placed his hands on your shoulders. “You alright, Darlin’?”

You brought your hand up over the scar, gently running your finger along the edges of it. “Does it still hurt?”

“Only occasionally, but it ain’t nothin’ I can’t handle.” He reassured you.

You leaned closer to him, pressing a gentle kiss along the edge of it. He looked at you with surprise at how tender you were handling him. He smiled as you looked up at him.“Bein’ sweet on me now?”

You gave him a cheeky grin as you pulled him closer to you by his belt loops. “Maybe, but that’s because you’re as sweet as honey to me.”

He leaned down, moving his face in line with yours in the midst of his flirtatious interrogation, eyes caught on your lips. “Does that make you my honeybee?”

You tilted your head slightly, lips ghost over his own as you replied, “Well, you’re just too sweet to resist.”

You kissed him, gently at first, but he kissed you back with a much rougher touch, desperate to feel your lips on his. He snaked his hands up your neck to caress your face as your hands fell along his forearms. You felt his teeth grazing over your bottom lip, almost asking and begging to allow him to deepen the kiss. You would, but not until you had made your move first.

It took him by surprise as you pulled him down to the bed with you, wrapping your legs around his waist so he couldn’t escape you. You chuckled as his smile came back though, his lips finding their way to yours again, kissing you with a hungry fervor before trailing down your chin and neck, causing laughter to erupt from you as he found a ticklish spot at the crook of your neck. He chuckled as he gazed down at you once more, his voice coming out in a smooth low whisper. “I love you, honeybee.”

You smiled up at him, feeling the heat return to your cheeks once again. He always knew how to make you blush, how to send butterflies a flight within you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him back to your lips once again. You could feel him relax against you, growing more comfortable with you by each passing second. When you finally had to pull away for air, you gazed up into his blue eyes, a smile on your face as you confessed.

“I love you too.”

[shiro-s2e2-erukinzu]

Anime only watchers and people who aren't caught up with the Manga, BEWARE... Cuz I'm about to discuss Spy X Family Mission 95... You have been warned...! 👌

[SPOILERS AHEAD FROM THIS POINT ON]

We are FINALLY BACK BABY!! And this chapter was AN ABSOLUTELY FUN ONE!! 😆😆😆

It's been six weeks since the last chapter, so I feel a little rusty at doing this...!! 😅 But anyway, we are finally gonna see the End of Class Gala that was mentioned all the way back in Mission 36, so let's discuss Mission 95, shall we? 😁

Becky notices a guy asking a girl to go to the End of Class Gala with him, which reminds her that the Gala is coming up soon...!! Anya, being Anya, asks if there's gonna be cake, while Becky wants to ask Loid to go to the dance with her (only for Henderson to dash that dream immediately...!! 🤭) Emile then asks Damian if he's gonna invite someone to the dance, Anya over hears this and thinks that this is a great opportunity for Plan B to move forward, so...:

SHE ASKS HIM TO DANCE WITH HER AT THE PARTY AND OF COURSE DAMIAN REJECTS ANYA'S OFFER...!! 😌

Then, it's the day of the Gala and...:

BECKY LOOKS SOOO ADORABLE IN HER DRESS!! 😍

And though Martha was just gonna drop Becky off, Henderson asks her to volunteer and she agrees to do it...!! 😁 (I still REALLY want to know Martha and Henderson's history together...! 😄)

At the party, we find out from Henderson that the whole grade is here meet and greet with other before everyone has to switch classes (hopefully Anya, Becky, Damian, Emile and Ewen will still be in the same class together...!! 🤞) And then, we see Damian's fit for the pary...:

Damian is looking like a mini James Bond in that tux!! SUPER SUAVE MY BOY...!! 😎👍

Then, Anya arrives and...:

MY BABY GIRL LOOKS SO DARN PRECIOUS THAT MY HEART JUST CAN'T EVEN TAKE IT...!!! 💗😭💗

Moving on from me being an emotional for my baby girl, one of the teachers announces the first party activity and which ever class wins gets to stay in the imperial scholar's private lounge for the day...!! 😲 I thought that this might be another opportunity for Anya to run into Demetrius again, so I was hoping for Cecile Hall to win!! 😆 But after all the games, that hope of mine was dashed because Villiers Hall won the prize...!!

(Well, at least we got to know that Mr. Green's first name is Custos from this...! 😌)

Now it's time for the dance and every is looking for a dance partner!! 😁 And I probably should've already known this, but Twilight is here to help Anya out...!!:

Damian gets bombarded by a bunch of scummy brats that only want to get close and dance with him because of who his family is, while Anya on the other hand...

...seems to be getting some genuine offers from some boys to dance!! 😁 (Heck! Even the kid that ranked first in the Classical Language test, Arnold Crowley, asked Anya to dance with him...!! 😄) But since getting close to Damian is Anya's top priority, she declines the other boys' offers. And because Damian has so many girls that want to dance with him, Emile and Ewen step in to help their boss man!! 😎

But try as these other girls might...

...Anya (with Twilight's help) will be the one dancing with Damian tonight...!! 😤

And that was Mission 95 and it was a great chapter to come back from the hiatus with!! 😆 I am so glad to finally see this Gala happen after all time, but I'm still worried about where everyone in Cecile Hall is gonna end up... 😩 But besides that, I can't wait to see what kind of wacky things Anya (and Twilight) are gonna do to make sure that she gets to dance with Damian!! 😆

Anyway, I think that's pretty much all that I wanna say about this chapter...!! 😁 So until next Mission; take care, be safe out there, and be kind to one another...!! Later!! 👋😊

[revel-inbluehues]

Oh my goodness gracious, I am several different types of broken rn. I just watched episode 7, and I NEED TO RANT AND I'M PROBABLY GOING TO LEAK A SPOILER OR TWO.

Okay, firstly, the first half was hilarious, just FX and MQ being absolute comedic gold. I completely forgot that FX was afraid of women since I read the novels a long time ago, but it was hilarious. He looked so disgusted. Them getting in funny situation is good as it is, but the animators did a fantastic job at the facial expressions of FX, MQ and the background heavenly officials who were hearing all of this play out. I laughed at it all, and poor SQX being embarrassed, tired, and exasperated at the dice shenanigans that he had to deal with earlier.

But, funny as it was, the second part was my favourite bit.

I literally froze when I saw Fang Xin. It was beautiful and terrifying at the same time. Knowing what that blade had done, the history it has made it so much more impactful since this is the first time since this is the first time XL is seeing it in 600 years or so while this is the first time HC is seeing it in around 800 years if I remember it correctly. It is such a metaphorically heavy blade, and seeing its design and animation is so very beautiful.

Meanwhile, LQQ commented on how different XL seemed, and XL responded on how this is how he always was, just that LQQ never knew it. Even still, XL felt like a teacher to LQQ, so I feel like no matter how separate XL tried to be, he did very much care for LQQ as I'm sure the next episode will show.

But I think the major part that got me was LQQ's speech about not becoming full of resentment or like XL, which is one hell of a gut punch. Once again, bravo to the animators for that little cut to XL's eyes widening. I always knew LQQ was a parallel to XL, and it is most clearest here. In that moment, XL knew that he was LQQ's White No Face, and that, in LQQ's perspective, where he started the worst moments of his life in a twisted attempt to make LQQ just as resentful as him. It was a fantastic comparison and a terrible irony to XL, something he clearly acknowledged as he laughed and tried so hard not to cry. XL's comparison to the White No Face is something that will probably hurt every time, since to XL, only he and JW know about it, and he's unable to share the burden of what happened, which probably just hurts even more. The parallel between LQQ's words to XL and XL's words to White No-Face is so painful, especially to XL, who thinks that it's his burden to bare, and it probably hurts more when you consider that he literally just got Fang Xin back.

And throughout all of this, the one other person who knew all of this, and wanted to share the burden was standing right next to him, looking hurt and about to cry as he watch his most loved hurt. HC knew the significance of it all, and it was a stark reminder of all the times he failed to protect the one he loved the most, and since this right after he accidently hurt XL as well, this must be painful for him too. There is so much foreshadowing for all the donghua-watchers only and so much tragedy underlining this scene.

The part where XL hesitated to hold Fangxin, when you know everything, hurts so much. It caused him so much trauma, wielding it would have just been such a painful reminder.

Let me move onto fangirling before I cry.

Firstly, I was waiting for the daruma doll bit for a while. He looks so cute and angry at the same time. It's adorable, and I laughed when LQQ side-eyed HC in the daruma form.

Secondly, why do HC and XL still look so HOT EVEN AS THE WEIRD CANDLE DEMONS, OMG???? HC with horns, blue skins, and black sclera is going to haunt me for DAYS, and XL looks so good with it as well. The candles on their heads look so funny though.

The next episode is for the Qi Rong simps, and I would like to remind everyone that Qi Rong, heathen that he is, is still physically hot, even if I have the visceral desire to punch him.