#the safest and most straight forward fandom in the world

[whim-prone-pirate]

how many times does neil gaiman have to specifically refuse to Word-Of-God anything before y'all take the hint—

he is the biggest supporter of fandom that there is, his own and in the broadest of senses. "is [x] canon?" is such an easily answerable question given that he has answered it twenty five times on one tumblr account. so, to reiterate, again, on his behalf:

book canon is stated in the book. tv canon is shown on screen.

anything that neil has said about his own characters outside of that specific and clearly laid out guideline is considered his own headcanon and opinion. there is no wrong or right version of aziraphale or dream or coraline. however you have decided to personalize these characters to help you love them does not make them any less real. Your Crowley is yours, and he is just as real as Neil's Crowley.

stop worrying. genuinely. you don't have to go searching for canon in the various gaimanverses because it's all been laid out in front of you since inception. you're all fine.

in neil's own words (possibly paraphrased as i don't have the post in front of me): "your characters are safe, and no one is going to take them away from you." not even neil.

[lonely-bored-writer]

Not So Alone

Fandom: Danny Phantom & Ben 10 (2005)

Summary: The life of a hero is often a lonely one, filled with anguish and danger, as much as it is filled pride and gratification. The weight of that life is crushing for any soul, let alone one much too young for such powers. One can only be lucky to find someone that can relate on a tiniest of gains, but luck seemed to be on these two boys. One finds a friend, the other finds a family.

Warnings: Although these are kids shows about kids, it does touch on the harsher reality of things than the shows do. It's gonna be overall angsty and heavy. This is the only overall warning I'm giving, and also some characters are de-aged to fit the story/theme. Enjoy!

The life of a hero was often a lonely and tiring path, one with high expectations. If a hero made one mistake, it could be a grave one. Lives are on the line, a hero doesn't have time to make mistakes. However, one cannot live a perfect life. Guilt was a heavy weight, especially on the minds of the young.

Benjamin Tennyson is only ten years old when this weight was pressed into his life. The Omnitrix was a complex device, one that allowed the young hero to take forms of various alien life-forms. As exciting as the idea of possessing such power was, Ben found that with powers comes villains. The detection of such powerful alien-technology brought forth a sea of those wanting it for themselves, and aliens appearing all across Earth. Seemingly always wherever the young Tennyson wanted to relax and be a child.

That was where the young hero found himself, stumbling upon yet another disaster needing his help.

Ben found himself smiling as the sound of the helicopter whirled in the air. Today was going to be good, just him with Grandpa Max and Gwen visiting a Rich guy's new hotel. The man was a millionaire, he had to have his own security detail, which means the Omnitrix shouldn't be needed and his time will finally be free. To have fun, to be a kid, and maybe to cause a little trouble of course. But what could you expect from a ten-year old.

He chose to tune out Grandpa's reunion with Donovan, instead choosing to take in the sights of the helipad on the roof. It was amazing, no fights against aliens could stand up against experiencing things like this. It was stuff Ben could only dream of having, let alone seeing. He turned his gaze to the boy standing next to the other man, pulling a smile that dropped quickly when the other boy frowned and turned his head. Ben was used to not being liked, but that's usually after his already spoke. School didn't count.

"Hi." Ben smiled when Mr. Grand Smith introduced them to Edwin.

"Yea, whatever." The child responded, crossing his arms in a way of disinterest. Ben frowned, turning to meet his cousin's own surprised look. People normally liked Gwen, he couldn't imagine how weird it was for someone to dislike her before she started on her smart talk. Ben held in a sigh, turning back to the adults. Neither of them commented on Edwin's rude behavior. But Ben knew if that was him, Grandpa would have most definitely said something.

"Ready to take the plunge?" Donovan smiled, motioning towards a set of doors that opened. He followed the others in, glancing to see Edwin giving both Tennyson kids a side-glare.

The group silently made it onto the raft, Ben glanced over and watched Edwin stare off into the distance. Neither Gwen or Grandpa Max caught his gaze. He was excite sure, this was going to be fun. But it's hard to have fun when you're so used to it all taking a deep dive at sooner or later. No pun intended. Nonetheless his smile was clear as day as the raft made its way down the tube. Gwen turned, grinning at him before turning to their Grandpa. It was nice, he was too used to their bickering, he forgot sometimes they can get along.

Ben watched in awe as the water glistened around the mostly clear tube, sea-life swimming past them. Ben wasn't sure if his new fondness of the sea was because of Ripjaws, but the sea always seemed peaceful to him. Even when sometimes a sea creature comes out and tries to eat you.

"You sure this is the safest place to build a resort like this?" Grandpa Max asked, grabbing Ben's attention. If Grandpa was feeling uneasy, that usually means something's going to happen. For once, Ben wished it wouldn't. More so than any other time. Ben didn't catch Mr. Grand Smith's response, but he did grab the next thing that came out the oldest Tennyson's lips. "I mean you're smack dab in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle." That caught Gwen's attention as well.

"Growing up you were always the worry wart, Max." Donovan laughed, looking out at the vast sea. "Never the risk taker. I give you the world's first, and only, underwater resort." The man flourished with a gesture of his arm. Ben sat up straight, looking forward in awe. It was beautiful.

Ben didn't quite catch what the man said as they got closer to the docking. Mr. Grand Smith was talking about some things about the hotel with Grandpa, but Ben was much to excited to explore. He grinned up at Gwen who matched his grin. The moment the raft settled, he and Gwen were already headed off.

The two stopped in front of one of the many glass windows, staring in awe at all the beautiful and colorful fishes that swam by. Ben heard the others approaching behind them.

"I read about your resort in-" Ben tuned out the rest of Gwen's talking. Focusing on all the fishes, before his eyes landed on the scuba diver. He knew that was the gear from older models at least, but it really did make the experience come just a bit more alive. "Isn't the glass reinforced-" Ben caught when his cousin cut herself off. He felt a spark of anger in him when he heard Edwin cough into his hand.

"Butt-kisser."

Donovan continued the conversation as if nothing happened. However, Ben hated it. This was one of the few places he didn't want to be kicked out of, or grounded in. His mind glossed over the science talk that happened. He did catch that the place had nine whole pools, and that it costed two billion dollars. Even Ben had to be impressed.

"But you know, money isn't everything." Donovan smiled, only to quickly drop to a frown when his grandson chimed in.

"Changed the family motto, Grandpa?" Edwin scoffed, hands still crossed. Ben glanced at the other kid, eyes furrowing. It wasn't had to tell the kid didn't want to be there, and it's not like Ben knew what it was like being rich, but he sure did think this place was cool enough to want to be in. Ben's eyes zeroed in on a little yellow pin resting against the burgundy sweater.

"Hey, I'm into Sumo Slammers too." Ben tried, moving a little closer. "Where'd you score that pin?" He asked, gesturing towards the pin. He tried not to let it get to him when the other boy still looked away from him.

"Sumo slammers slam-down V in Helsinki." Edwin responded, still not meeting Ben's eyes. "We flew on my Grandpa's private jet just to get it." That must have been fun, Ben remembered when he first heard about it and how much he wanted to go, but knew he couldn't.

"And Edwin says the pin's already tripled in value." Donovan chimed in, resting a hand on his grandson's shoulder. The older gentleman then turned to Grandpa Max. "Kid's got a head for business, grooming him to take over the empire one day. Gotta keep it in the family." Ben grinned, turning to look at his Grandpa.

"I've sort of been following in my grandpa's footsteps this summer, too." Ben smiled, he's learned not to give too much out too soon after the incident with Grandpa's old partner. But this was something he was proud of, being good at something for once. It was at that moment the lights began to flicker, and an alarm sound rang through the air. Ben tensed, glancing around and tried to find any immediate dangers.

Everyone turned in time to see the Scuba diver, that caught Ben's eyes, lose his balance as the water around him surged towards the fans below. His eyes watched as the man fell, only stopping when his tether got caught up in railings. His eyes caught sight of the water pooling into the mask, as the man struggled to get back up. He barely caught the words Donovan spoke in response to what happened. A power surge.

"Will he be okay?" Ben asked, turning to look at the eldest in the room.

"Hmph, if the sharks don't get him first." Ben glanced over, feeling an uneasiness at how emotionless Edwin said that.

"I can't have an employee turned into fish food right before the opening. The press will ruin me." Mr. Grand Smith spoke, turning and rushing to go do something. Ben grounded his teeth, they spoke like a man's life wasn't in danger. He could easily save him if he turned into Ripjaws, but that wasn't the point of the trip. The Grand Smiths had to have it covered.

A glance from Gwen, however, told him otherwise. He rushed off to an area he was sure he could transform in without being seen. Ripjaws it was. Ben pressed against a pipe, turning the Omnitrix until Ripjaws silhouette popped up. With a sigh, he pressed it. Feeling the familiar tug and slight ache as his biology transformed, but this didn't feel like Ripjaws.

"Seriously, for once I was better off as me." Ben groaned staring down at the grey skinned hands of Grey Matter. He blinked, feeling the familiar reptilian lids slid over his eyes. Nonetheless Ben quickly leaped into the water. A man's life was on the line, even if he wasn't well suited to help, he couldn't wait.

He pushed through the water as fast as he could, watch the sharks circle around the dangling man. Two. The man was struggling, which never helped in a situation like this, but Ben understood the fear. He was feeling the same fear as he tried to run through a plan to help save the man. Instinctively he grabbed on to one of the shark's fin, hitching a ride as it took another round.

Ben reeled back his arm and took a straight punch to the shark's eye, throwing it off course. He continued to punch, even as the shark made a beeline for the man, mouth open and ready to bite. His heart hammered away at his chest, before his eyes landed on the second shark. To his luck, or maybe Grey Matter's calculations, the shark he rode on bit into the second one.

His grip slipped on where he gripped the gills, and he was projected away from the fighting sharks. Only to land smack dab in the middle of the helmet's window. Ignoring the ache in his lungs from how long his been holding his breath in such a small form, he smiled at the man staring eye-wide at the alien. To his luck, he heard the fan start to slow down before reversing.

The water propelled the two upwards, knocking the man's helmet off his head. The bubbles that came out the moment the helmet came of scared Ben for a second, before he found himself being launched into air, rather than water.

Ben winced as his hand hit full-force on the edge of a replica boat hanging off the ceiling. The copper dung harshly into his palm, but he made sure to tighten his grip when the ever familiar beeping sounded. Quickly followed by a flash of light, and Ben having to readjust to being normal again. Almost losing his grip, but securing it in time to hear Edwin speak.

"Hey, where's your cousin?"

"Just hanging!" Ben called from his place, waving his other hand. Ignoring the pain in his arm, he laughed. "Does anyone have a ladder?"

It didn't take long for Ben to find himself back on solid ground. He watched as the Scuba diver stumbled away from them. He felt bad for the man. Especially when Donovan spoke about doubling his salary, but at least the press wouldn't know. The man's life had to be more important than money or reputation, right?

"But who would believe him, he said some six-inch rat with two legs saved him." Donovan laughed, shaking his head.

"Just buy him off." Edwin spoke, arms still crossed, and looking at no one in particularly. To Ben it seemed like a kid whose pouting about not getting his way, but what kid can pout through all this. "Now, that's the Grand Smith way."

"Ahem. Edwin, why don't you take Ben and Gwen on a tour so their grandpa and I can catch up on old times?" Donovan cleared his throat before smiling. Ben still can't believe everyone was just letting the kid act like this. Then again, money changes everything. That's what every ones' told him and that's what he's come to learn.

"Oh man." Ben quietly groaned, the same time Gwen did too. "Ugh."

Ben watched as the two walked away, not really listening to the words but processing it for later. Ben quietly followed Edwin in the opposite direction, not bothering to attempt small talk, and neither was Gwen.

It didn't take long before the trio found themselves walking up to a mock-beach with a large water-slide that Ben most definitely had to try at least twice. If going Grey Matter was the only incident for the rest of the stay, this could be one fun time. "Nice." Ben broke the silence, looking in awe at the twisty slides.

"Not bad." Edwin spoke as well, his 'better than you tone' ever so present. "In the morning, I have my own swim coach and person trainer to work out with." Which if Ben was being honest he wouldn't have expected, but then again, no one would suspect him of spending a good part of his summer fighting aliens and criminals.

"You're a swimmer?" Gwen asked, not bothering to hide her surprise.

"Long-distance." Edwin responded, creating the movements as if he were swimming. "My grandpa say it builds character."

Ben couldn't help but mock him the moment he walked away. Gwen laughed at him, before following the rich kid. Ben shook his head before following along, he made a mental note to make sure to come back and visit this mock-beach.

The next stop also had Ben stricken with awe. A submarine hung from the ceiling, an open pool underneath. One would assume it was functional, and Edwin filled in any thoughts with some facts.

"It's called the Undersea Manta Ray." Edwin spoke, moving closer to it as the other two followed. "It's my grandfather's."

"Well, it looks cool." Gwen spoke, just as in awe as Ben.

"You want to take it for a ride?" Edwin asked, having not turned around.

"Definitely." Ben spoke first, not taking his eyes off the submarine.

"You sure it's okay?" Gwen asked, turning a suspicious look to Edwin. Ben bit back a sigh, they were kids, they were meant to cause trouble sometimes. Edwin never really responded though, instead smirking at the two Tennysons.

Edwin instead instructed them to follow and he lowered the submarine. Ben grinned at Gwen who only looked worried. "We shouldn't do this." Gwen whispered as Edwin worked the submarine open.

"Come on Gwen, when would we get this opportunity again?" Ben grinned, following Edwin in. He didn't have to worry if Gwen was going to follow or not, she always did.

The kid knew what he was doing in terms of driving the submarine, that was for sure. But Ben couldn't tear his eyes away from the different forms of sea-life swimming by. The color fishes, the glowing pink jellyfish.

"Wow, some of these fish look totally prehistoric." Gwen's worry seemed to vanish as the nerd side of her came out. Ben had to agree though, some of these looked like those fishes Ben caught sight of when Gwen was watching her documentaries. Ben smiled, when Gwen looked back at him with her own grin. This was nice, like really nice. Everything was so pretty and peaceful down here.

The submarine descended a few more levels before gliding forward through the dark depths with ease. The lights illuminating the once pitch-black waters. Ben wasn't paying much attention to anything but the sea-life until Gwen spoke up.

"Okay, now that's weird." Just then a glowing blue, squid-like robot jolted in front of the window. Quickly the robot latched itself to the window, and rammed an almost beak-like part into it. Ben tensed, turning to see Edwin looking shocked and scared.

"And that's weirder." He said. One more popped up at Edwin's window, following the same actions as the first one. Ben tensed, glancing around as more swarmed the submarine. The bots made screeching noises as the rammed up against the windows. Fear flooded into Ben's system, along with adrenaline. He wanted to relax, not deal with another adrenaline high.

The familiar sound of glass cracking sounded through the noise, before the sound of rushing water filled through and an alarm blared. Ben could tell he needed to step in, but how could he when there was nowhere to run or hide.

"What do you think those creatures what?!" Edwin asked, glancing back at Gwen.

"I don't think it's to play Marco polo." Came her usual nervous response. Ben's face settled in determination.

"We've gotta go back to the hotel." Edwin's face seemed to settle at his words, the kid pulling a lever and moving the submarine faster and upwards. Ben sighed a quiet sigh of relief as he saw some of the creatures lose their grip and float away. He knew they were chasing them, others still clinging to the ship.

He had to put as much faith as he could into Edwin, if he tried to help, he'd out himself. He flinched when the first explosion sounded, one of those creatures' made contact with an apparently live bomb. The train reaction followed quickly, the other ones near by going off as well.

The submarine jolted around, and Ben's hope slowly started to fizzle out. No other creatures seemed to take a dive with those explosions. Ben's eyes flipped around at the creatures and debris flying through the sea.

"Grandpa, do you copy?" Edwin spoke into a radio, which Ben silently wish he'd done earlier. No response. Ben turned, catching his cousin's eyes. He didn't want to but he knew that look. Nodding, he unbuckled his belt and made his way to the exit. Being sure to close the door behind him. The ship didn't need to take on any more water.

"Turn me into Wild Mutt, you're dead meat." Ben grumbled, hoping that he got Ripjaws. They couldn't afford another mishap like earlier. Not this time. He felt the familiar tug and aches, before the light died down. "Okay, now we're talking." He breathed, eyes trailing over the familiar greenish scales.

Taking down the bots was much easier as Ripjaws, the sharp claws and strong teeth ripped through them without a problem. Swimming through the water was much easier as well, his legs slinging together into a tail. The worry came with trying to get all the creatures away from the submarine before they destroyed it and put Gwen and Edwin's lives more endanger.

Once he finally caught up with the submarine, he chomped the closest one in half. That seemed to do it. Most of the creatures paused, before turning their attention to him. The tentacles were annoying, that's for sure. Even through the adrenaline, Ben could feel the faint aches of where the bruises would form. Ripjaws was the best one for the job, even if his skin wasn't as tough as some of the others.

Ben barely manage to take out six that swarmed him at once, before high-tailing it towards the submarine. He glanced inside to see Gwen's relieved face, and Edwin's worried one. Not stopping to eavesdrop, he quickly moved on from creature to creature. He took out the last one when the familiar beeping chimed near his gills, followed by the soft flash of red.

His fear spiked when he reached the hatch, pulling desperately on it, but there was no give. In his haste to destroy the creatures, he didn't notice the damage the submarine took. He does now remember the harsh blow on his back from the impact. He barely pulled open the latch, and swung himself inside when the flash came over him. He pushed open the door, water falling to the ground, and dripping from him but he didn't pay attention.

Inhaling deeply, he feel to his knees, resting against the metal flooring. His lung ached in the time it took him to fully adjust and get in, and exhaustion settled in his bones as the adrenaline slowly seeped out of them. They weren't in the clear yet, but his body could only panic for so long.

Ben felt his heart drop in relief once they passed through those doors. Silently the trio made their way out of the submarine and onto the deck. Alarms blared loudly around them, signifying that the base was also under attack.

"We're flooding." Donovan spoke, glancing among them all. "They broke the glass."

"I knew you shouldn't have taken it. I knew it." Edwin cut in urgently.

"Edwin quiet. I'm sure it has nothing to do with this." Donovan hushed him, but Ben couldn't help but focus his gaze on Edwin.

"Taken what Donovan." Grandpa Max cut in, Ben could hear the anger already settling his grandpa's voice.

"Edwin doesn't know what he's talking about." Donovan excused. Ben tensed with ever second that passed. This back and forth, along with the alarms and the threat right outside the door. He couldn't calm down.

"How would you know? All you ever hear from me is what you want to hear." Edwin all but yelled as his grandfather. The sound of zapping electricity brought the others attention back to the matter at hand. A few of those creatures appeared above the submarine.

"Let's go." Max commanded, everyone immediately following his order. They rushed quickly into the elevator, barely making it through before the creatures would have been on top of them.

"Donovan, what is going on?" Grandpa Max asked, once they settled in the elevator.

"Okay, the underwater volcano thing didn't work. The resort was doomed." Ben had no clue what he was on about, but he had a feeling alien technology was involved. "I was about to become a punch line to a bad joke. Then I found this other energy source on this weird craft way down below. It was like nothing I've ever seen before. "

"And now, I bet those aliens want it back." Gwen chimed in. Ben's face hardened, this man put every ones' lives at risk over a stupid resort.

"Yea, the same ones with the underwater parking lot full of boats and planes." Ben said. Everyone glanced among each other.

The moment those elevator doors opened, the group made their way out only to be met with a rush of water and creatures headed their way. They made it through another doorway, Ben barely picked up a comment Grandpa Max made about his job and the Bermuda triangle. He glanced his watch and clenched his teeth. Still red.

They did manage to make it onto a raft, water spilling from holes everywhere. Everyone sat in silence for a moment, waiting for their turn up the tube to leave. Ben glanced and caught sight of Donovan's angry and defeated face.

"look on the bright side grandpa, you still have fifteen resorts worldwide." Edwin tried to comfort Donovan. Ben watched as the older man didn't say anything, simply moving the raft to exit. Ben heard it first, a soft noise before the tentacles arrived, wrapping over the edge of the raft. Nothing could ever go that simply.

The raft was torn apart effortlessly, Ben cried out as he watched Grandpa Max and Mr. Grand Smith be pulled in the opposite direction as the kids. Ben screamed along with the other kids as their half started free-falling back into the resort. His mind racing with the reality that the resort down there was falling apart and should collapse and be fully submerged soon.

Ben caught sight of Gwen coaching Edwin, having him cover his eyes. He caught her eyes next before nodding. Lucky for him, the watch had enough time to reboot. He didn't need to swim, he needed to get them out of there as soon as possible. Stinkfly it was. Ben focused on holding tightly to Edwin and Gwen as Gwen gave a lame excuse to the other boy.

"Hold on." Ben spoke, glancing at Edwin before focusing his attention on the road before them. His heart rate picked up with every lucky dodge of a tentacle he made. He could see the sharpness and ridge of them. He knew if he let even one of them touch any of them, it could be some serious damage. In his attention to the spikes, he didn't notice the stream of water before it was too late.

They hit the water hard, Ben berating himself mentally as him came up. "My wings are too wet, I can't fly. And, oh, yea I can't swim either." He spoke, finding himself falling back under the current. To his luck, Gwen and Edwin caught him quickly and supported him up on the surface.

"Don't worry, we got you. Ben." Edwin spoke, giving the bug a knowing look.

"That's not Ben." Gwen tried to defend, but Ben already know. Edwin knew it was him, but he didn't seem like he was planning to tell anyone.

"Yea right, good aliens just showing up to help us." Edwin responded. "While your cousin always happens to be gone? How dumb do I look? So how do you do it?" He turned to Ben.

"Edwin Listen to me." Gwen pulled the boy's attention to her. "That energy orb-if the aliens are here for it, we have to get to it first."

"Alright, let's get it." Edwin spoke after a short pause, and Ben was just relieved to have the attention off him. "But it's all the way on the other side of the resort."

"But we can't make it in the water." Ben pointed out.

"Who said anything about swimming." Gwen smirked, Ben followed her gaze to the air ducts.

They were making good progress in the vents, Gwen being the only one really speaking. Ben was too worried about if his grandpa made it up alright, and if he could get the others out safely. The Gwen made some comment about getting there quicker, and the pipes decided to give right there and then. As they free fell through the pipes, Ben cursed how unlucky they were until they landed.

By speed boats.

"Alright, now we're talking." Ben laughed, watching Gwen take a seat before going to follow suit. Just as he was about to pull himself up he felt a iron-tight grip surround his leg and a yank down-ward.

He fought harshly against the tentacle, holding in his breath. To his luck, the watch beeped before turning him back. Making him smaller, giving him the chance to slide out of the grasp and swim upwards. He felt the strong ache in his lungs. He gasped for air the moment he broke the surface, turning a gaze at the creature popping up. Pulling himself up onto the boat, Gwen immediately put it to drive. Edwin followed behind, oar in hand and took out the creature.

"Thanks." Ben offered with a thumbs up.

"Thank you. That was awesome." Edwin responded, and Ben couldn't help but note that the kid was smiling for the first time since they got there. "Hey lookout!" Gwen narrowly missed a collision with one of those creatures.

The rest of the ride consisted on trying to doge every one of those things, and keeping close enough to each other so they didn't lose anyone. Before long they made it to the orb, without anymore incidents.

"If the orb can power this whole resort, just imagine what the aliens did with it." Gwen awed, staring at the small pink orb.

"Stealing all those ships and planes would be a good guess." Ben retorted, remembering that those were the creatures responsible for the Bermuda Triangle.

"Maybe if we reverse the connections, it would turn its outward power inward." Edwin offered, Gwen peaking up at the science driven solution.

"And make the whole resort implode." Ben tensed, glancing down at his watch. Red. It was a smart plan though.

"With those aliens in it." He finished.

"Good thinking Edwin." Gwen praised, and Ben offered him a smile.

"Thanks, but we still need to get out of here." Edwin pointed out. Ben paused, before smirking.

"I have an idea." As long as the watch rebooted in time.

Edwin quickly reverted the power surge, the creatures started to flock to it the moment they were heading out. Ben smiled softly as the key component to his plan came into view.

"That's your escape plan?" Edwin asked surprised. Ben nodded, looking at the replica submarine. "It's only for show!" Edwin pointed out.

"And when I'm done with it, it'll be for go." Ben responded, eyes landing on his watch. Green. Hoping it gave him what he needed this time. "Upgrade." He whispered as the glow and feeling washed over him. He made quick work of wrapping himself all along the submarine and merging into it.

He propelled them forward, pushing with all his might as he felt the water around them tremble. The explosion was going to catch up to them, but he needed to get them to an opening. Lucky for them, all the creatures were distracted down below, they made it out without much more of a hitch. The explosion helping Ben propel them forward, towards the surface.

Once they were close enough to the surface that momentum alone would get them to the top, Ben merged himself back into the main space. The beeping sounding and turning him back just as he got inside. Ben couldn't focus too much once they got on dry land. The exhaustion of the day hitting him, but nonetheless he smiled.

Ben smiled and laughed along with everyone before they were biding their good-bye's and making their way back to the RV. Ben yawned, quietly listening to Gwen recount the story to Grandpa all the way to the rust-bucket.

"You kids did good." Grandpa Max smiled, before turning his attention to Ben. "Are you okay Ben?" He asked, concern folding into his features. Ben smiled with a nod and a laugh.

"I'm just beat." He grinned, ignoring the dull aches and throbs that ran through his muscles. All he wanted now, was a nap.

[jinmukangwrites]

Graceful

The third and final instalment to the Grace Trilogy. We’ve come a long way bois.

Summary: sometimes, things take a turn for the worse, and the world feels like it’s falling apart. Wild’s always jumped at the chance to save someone else, but what happens when the favor is returned?

Warinings: To avoid spoilers, they’re in the tags.

Note: I gotta dedicate this. Like. I absolutely have to. This whole series I want to dedicate to @spacemalarkey​ and @fox-moblin​. Linni, I cannot thank you enough for how much you do for me, for always thinking of me and including me and being my go to person for bouncing ideas off. You helped with with so much and I swear you have been here since the beginning and that’s something I will always be grateful for. Ort, gal, my pal, my favorite cryptid, I love you, you are such an inspiration and your creativity always inspires me to try to be better with my own works. I wouldn’t be where I am today if you hadn’t read Grace and deemed it good enough to reblog haha. Anyway, just wanted to say thanks to you two. It’s not like I’m not writing LU anymore lol, gonna keep writing for this amazing fandom. This fic just feels like a testament to how far I’ve come since Grace.

Anyway, who wants to cry?

-o-o-o-o-

At first, Twilight didn’t understand.

Before, he always questioned it. He would lie awake for hours into the night, tossing and turning on his sleeping mat, blankets tangling his legs and sweat dripping from his brow. Nightmare’s haunted him because of it, nightmares of a wild hearted boy jumping in front of a spear, in front of an invincible monster, in front of Twilight himself, to ultimately fall to the ground and never get back up, blood pooling besides the body.

Twilight never understood. He never understood why Wild was so ready and raring to put himself in the path of a killing blow, or any blow for that matter. He says it’s because he has the ability to come back and he may as well be the one to die and revive than Wind or Sky or Warrior or whoever that won’t come back.

Don’t get Twilight wrong. If someone else was in danger, he would gladly risk his life to save them. But that’s the game changer right there. Risk. Not willingly give away. Twilight believes in finding a way for everyone to survive. It was never about dying for his friends and country, it was about simply saving it.

Wild is hard wired about dying for it.

And Twilight didn’t understand.

He’s argued about it on multiple occasions. Ever since that first time where Wild took his own life to simply return stronger and finish the job, Twilight has found ways to argue about it. Thankfully, Wild eventually understood that letting himself die was heartbreaking for everyone there and a total abuse towards Mipha and her gift, but he’s still reckless. Reckless enough to get his neck snapped by a ball and chain. Reckless enough to push Sky out of the way of a charging bull and get hit himself. Reckless enough to take the arrow he saw heading towards Time’s head. Enough to get Four out of a booby trapped cavern first and ultimately get crushed by tons and tons of earth. Enough to pull Hyrule off from cracking ice and drown as a result, to eat an apple gifted to Warrior’s from a shady figure to prove it was poisoned, to charge unprepared into an enemy camp to save the newest hostage named Legend.

And he doesn’t do these things only for the group, but for innocent bystanders and travelers too.

Twilight would yell and yell Wild’s ear off whenever the little gremlin got himself hurt for others. He could have easily warned Sky or Time to get out of the way. Could have worked together with Four to get out quickly. Could of pulled Hyrule and himself off the ice. Could of could of could of. Wild never seemed to understand that risking your life is not always the first option. Still never understands it. He has this gift to come back from the dead and it’s gotten into his thick skull that if he can solve a particularly difficult problem by simply taking the blow and coming back, he’ll take it and there is nothing wrong with it.

Twilight never understood. It’s gotten Wild angry with him. Wild would try to make Twilight understand and Twilight would just get more and more agitated until finally they are separated via Time’s orders so they can calm down and call it a night.

Twilight would say how much he cares for Wild and he doesn’t want to see him dead. Wild would shoot back the same sentence with so much ferocity that Twilight is forced to let it go. At least he isn’t killing himself like he had done the first time, Twilight says to himself, at least he’s accepting health potions and fairies for his injuries even when they’re low in supply. At least Wild isn’t literally killing himself to save them.

But it isn’t stopping him from willingly and thoughtlessly putting himself in danger.

Twilight never understood.

He understands now.

There’s fire. And a lot of it.  Twilight has only heard about the beasts that they’re up against, only seen the dead carcasses littering the plains and forests of Wild’s world.

“They’re all dead,” Wild had said with a almost reverent certainty the first time they had stumbled upon a corpse of a Guardian, “they died when Zelda and I defeated Calamity Ganon. All they’re good for now is scraps.”

A lot of strange stuff has been going on lately with all their worlds. They should have guessed, or at least prepared, for the possibility of one waking up and attacking. But they didn’t prepare. None of them, not even Wild himself, were ready for when the first eye blinked open with a menacing red flash and pushed itself out from the rubble that has tried to bury it over the years. A blood colored laser blinked to life and trained itself within moment’s onto Wind, a steady heartbeat of beeping piercing into the air, and Twilight, everyone, was frozen in spot because of fear, terror, horror, all those fun emotions. Thankfully, Wild knocked himself out of it pretty quickly, muscle memory forcing his hands to his bow before his brain could catch up. He loaded an arrow and shot it at the mechanical monster’s eye and a zing echoed in the air as the Guardian stumbled backwards on its eight legs, startled, but not a scratch.

“Run!” Wild screamed.

And oh, they did. Or they really tried to. If the Hero of the Wild was screaming at you to haul ass out of a fight you better listen. They would have probably gotten away before the Guardian found its bearings, but they were stopped in their tracks as another metal beast crawled over a close by hill, dragging a single injured leg behind it with its five remaining ones, it’s laser trained on Time who was leading the retreat.

So the next, logical, thing to do would be to turn and run to the left or the right, but a third Guardian, barely scooting across the ground with two working limbs, crawled from the side and the first one was now recovered and they found themselves surrounded, fighting their way out quickly becoming the only option out of this. The laser pointing at Time fired and they all jumped out of the way but the explosion sent them flying into different directions and the flames lit the ground despite how the morning dew still coated the grass.

They scrambled, Time stumbling from a very nasty burn on his leg and Four clutching his arm to his chest towards a particularly large boulder on the other side of the Guardian that had just fired at them. The other two had their lasers trained, the one that had fired was beginning the process of loading up its weapon. It was the safest route.

They thankfully managed to dodge around the second guardian towards the boulder and get behind the makeshift shelter before any shots can hit them. The boulder shook from the pure force of the deadly projectile hitting it straight on and fire blasted around the corners, making Sky (who was closest to the edge) cry out in shock as the flames licked his sailcloth.

“What do we do?” Time demanded, already they can hear the heavy steps of the monsters figuring out where their prey had gotten to. They had minutes at most to make a plan before the Guardians realized that they didn’t disappear, but were hiding.

The tortured, panicked, wide-eyed look Wild gave Time almost broke Twilight’s heart. The kid was always so sure about himself. Always having some sort of plan no matter how reckless or crazy it was. Right now, Wild looked lost, scared.

“Take them out one at a time?!” Wild said, his voice an octave higher than it’s normal range. “I don’t know! I’ve never fought three at the same time! I- go for the legs, the Master Sword would be best but any strong weapon will do. If it aims at you, fire it’s eye. Get them immobile- I-”

Wild looked at the verge of a panic attack, his eyes glistened and a hand went up to his arm, his scarred arm, like he was trying to pull himself together.

Another explosion hits the boulder, and another right after. Twilight brought his hands to his head as the structure behind them shook and chunks of rock fell down on them. They’ve ran out of time. The Guardian’s know that they’re there, and they want a fight.

“Sky,” Time barked over the roaring sound of fire around them, “take the Master Sword and get the legs of the least injured one. Wild, go with him. You’ll shoot the eye. Twilight, Four, and Legend, you three get two legged one, work together to get it’s legs. Legend, you’re on eye duty. Wind, Hyrule, Warrior, you’re with me. Wind, you’re in charge of the eye.”

At that was it. A barely thought out plan that everyone hardly had any time to agree or disagree to before a final blast broke their boulder in two. Everyone ran into battle, crying out, splitting off to their assigned enemies without a second thought.

And that’s where they are now. Fighting for their life.

Legend is a master of the bow. Not as good as Wild, but good enough. Good enough to release an arrow mid run and hit their target head on. Four bolted forward, lifting his sword into the air and jamming it into the first leg of the monster. Gears screeched together as the Guardian stumbles, but Twilight doesn’t wait for it to recover before he too is beginning his attack.

For a second, it all goes good. There is only two working legs and Four and Twilight each, with the support of Legend released an arrow every few moments, manage to shatter both of them. The Guardian crumbles to the ground, leaving it open for them to attack it’s body and within minutes, the eye shatters and blinks pitifully, metal bits falling as if relaxing in death.

For a second, Twilight thinks that maybe everything will be okay.

That was his mistake.

Because right after that second, Wind is screaming in pain as the guardian they were fighting manages to make a blow before Wind could stun it. Twilight spins on heel and takes in the complete chaos across from him. Time is rolling on the ground violently because of a leg that hit him, Hyrule is just managing to dodge to frantic legs above him, and Wind is scrambling to his feet, clutching his side, blood dripping down his forehead and fire singing his tunic.

Then another explosion shakes the ground as a misfired laser from the Guardian Wild and Sky are tag teaming on just manages to miss the group but explodes the earth past them, fire and debris shooting into the air like an evil monster itself, spreading it’s tendrils to destroy everything it touches.

The Guardian Sky is working on is thankfully stunned and injured thanks to a particularly nasty arrow sticking out at an odd angle in its eye, but it’s now firing rapidly, its four remaining legs frantically trying to find purchase.

“Legend- Four-” Twilight starts.

“On it, Twi,” Four says, grabbing Legends hand and rushing towards Time and the others. Twilight swallows and sprints in the opposite direction, towards Wild who is dodging out of the way of a misfired laser that almost didn’t miss.

Twilight grabs the bow on his back and shoots the Guardian again, hitting right in the middle of its eye and shattering the glass just a bit more. The metal creature seems to groan as its head spins around desperately looking for its target, but it jolts to the side as the Master Sword takes out yet another leg.

Wild nods in thanks and loads his own bow, firing at the eye, and Twilight rushes forwards, re taking his sword and slamming it into one of the remaining legs. There’s a couple close calls, this Guardian is a lot more fidgety and trigger happy than the other one Twilight somehow managed to defeat, but eventually, the last leg shatters with a mighty swing from Sky’s sword and the thing comes crashing down to the earth with a thud, firing fearfully into the air.

Wild runs forward and slams his sword down into it’s eye, sinking his weapon down into the hilt. Glass shatters and the Guardian shutters, blinking sadly, and shutting off with a pitiful whir.

Okay, Twilight thinks, now it can all get better now. There’s one left and Wild said he can fight these things one on one. He turns, Sky walking next to him, Wild climbing down from the dead beast.

The other guardian is literally on its last leg with the combined efforts of the rest of the group, it’s laser is blinking on Legend, who’s standing in front of an injured Wind, but Legend has his bow trained and is at that second releasing his arrow. His aim is true, but Twilight knows right then that something is horribly wrong.

The last Guardian’s laser was too loaded, too powered up to be simply shut off. It is knocked backwards, and the last leg breaking courtesy of Hyrule made it so it was looking directly at Wild when it finally released that explosive energy.

Twilight didn’t think. But in that moment, he understood.

He finally understood.

It the heat of the moment, Twilight didn’t have time to think about the options. About the consequences. About the ways everyone will make it out alive. He just surged forward, grabbed Wild by the shoulders, and shoved the kid behind him.

And then heat. Fire.

Agony.

His ears are ringing. He can’t breath. His skin feels hot and cold at the same time for a second and then he can feel nothing at all. Numbness takes over, and he’s left choking for air, staring up at the sky blocked by smoke. Orange flames lick the corner of his vision and that’s all he’s aware of. The fire. The smoke. The knives stabbing into his lungs with every breath he tries to take, even as the blurry outline of hands grab onto his tunic and drags him away from the fire.

The edges of his sight blur, his chest shutters, and he blinks and blinks and blinks until he can’t no more.

The last thing he’s aware of is Wild kneeling over him, trails of wetness glistening red with the fire running down his cheeks. There’s a cut on his chin, hair a little singed, but otherwise okay.

He’s okay.

And Twilight understands.

And with that, all the pain and worry leaves Twilight, and he enters the blackness of unconsciousness without any resistance.

-o-o-o-o-

At first, Time didn’t know what… drew him towards Twilight.

From the first moment Time laid his eyes on the kid, he knew he would do anything to protect him, even before he figured out Twilight is a descendant. There’s just something about him that makes Time go crazy with protective urges and… almost attempts at parental guidance.

Time cares for each of the heroes on their group. Each have something so incredibly special about them, and their youth didn’t help with Time’s slow descent into “Dad Friend” territory, but Twilight was something… different.

If it was the way the kid instantly worried about others before himself, or the way he fought with a feral viciousness, or the intelligence that was always present in his gaze… whatever the case, Time eventually found that he saw himself in Twilight. And instead of that being a comfort, it made him almost go insane with worry. He wanted nothing more than to teach the kid to be himself, to not worry so much, to take the moment as it came, but he could never find the moments to teach those. Plus, Twilight always looked at him with a gaze that screams: “Don’t even start with me, old man” before he can even work up the courage to talk to him about it.

It takes a lot of courage to scold Twilight.

More courage than what Time had.

He planned to maybe leave him for Malon to chew out the next time they ended up at the ranch. Perhaps corner him in a quiet forest. Possibly just spit it out on the trail. Get him to understand that he’s young, and he doesn’t need to worry about everything, all the time, all day. He doesn’t need to swing his sword so hard, doesn’t need to lose sleep over other’s problems, doesn’t need to remember he has his own issues he should work out until it’s too late.

What a load of good those plans turned out to be, especially since Twilight is practically on his deathbed.

Or the “on the road” equivalent to it.

It’s a race against the clock, a race that Time can’t help but feel like they are losing. They were not prepared for a battle like Wild’s Guardians, they were not prepared for wounds or cuts or third degree burns. With the world constantly fading and morphing around them, they sometimes don’t have enough red potions or fairies for a broken leg, let alone burns so horrid that the scarred, blistering tissue of Twilight’s body outnumbers the unblemished.

One red potion. Courtesy of Four. Enough to stop most of the bleeding, but the burns are still so bad that Twilight is stuck in a perpetual fever and it’s only getting worse.

They have to find civilization, and fast.

And it doesn’t help that the world is no longer Wild’s, and no one recognizes the forest around them. The most they can do is walk until somebody recognizes where they are, the constant worry of maybe a town is in the opposite direction nagging at each of their brains.

Maybe they are somewhere in Twilight’s time, and none of them would know until they either find civilization or Twilight wakes up.

Finding civilization seems more likely.

Time winces when Warrior stumbles a little, jostling the makeshift stretcher they made with blankets, branches, and rope to tie it all together. Everyone has injuries, and with the single health potion being used to buy Twilight more time, Warrior is forced to push through a sprained ankle. Wind is the worst off from them all, sporting painful burns on his side and chest and various other cuts. He has a fever and is now half delirious from pain and exhaustion, forced to be carried along on the back of Sky. He isn’t in… immediate danger. He still needs medical attention. The rest of them thankfully all just have minor scrapes and bruises, a burn here and there but not enough to do much more than sting persistently.

Besides Twilight and Wind, it’s the emotional wounds that Time is more worried about.

Especially Wild.

Who hasn’t said a word in over five hours.

And there isn’t much Time can do about it. All Time can do is reposition his grip on the stretcher, ask Warrior if he needs to switch with someone, and let Four quickly check over Twilight.

“How is he?” Time asks.

Four sighs and pulls his hand away from Twilight’s forehead. The answer is in his pinched eyebrows and red rimmed eyes. “He needs help, old man,” Four replies softly after a second.

Time nods. And they continue their walk, because there is nothing more that they can do.

Time tries not to think about Wild, a few paces behind, hugging his arms around his body like he will crumble.

The walk continued, and no signs of human life ever presented itself. Warrior eventually had to switch with Legend so he could lean on Hyrule and give his injured ankle a much needed break. The walking only got slower from there, the weight of the stretcher and the body placed upon it only seemed to get heavier.

The sun travels. The forest continues.

Twilight begins to vomit blood in his sleep.

And that’s when any hope in the group shattered.

They were forced to stop. Moving Twilight any more would just quicken the inevitable. A grim mood falls over the group and the realization that unless help found them, Twilight is not going to make it. The least they could do is… make sure it’s not too painful.

They made a nest for him and placed him a generous distance away from the fire to not overheat him but also not to let the bite of the cooling night creep in too much. The mood of the group is grim. Time puts it upon himself to keep everyone together despite him wanting to break down himself. He stopped Hyrule from stomping off into the forest, a sword at his hip. He made sure Wind wasn’t alone as he sulked by the campfire by sending Four over to talk to him, maybe encourage him to allow them to change his bandages. He broke apart the argument Legend was trying to start with Sky for no reason at all. Warrior has closed in on himself and has announced that he will continue walking into the forest to find help, but Time forced him to sit down so he could better look at his ankle, trying to will Warrior to understand that there is nothing in their power to do, no matter how it pains the both of them.

Wild is at Twilight’s bedside. A solid arms distance away. Curled up in himself and simply staring at the bandages and scarred flesh.

Time may have told himself that he will make sure everyone is together and okay this night, but for many reasons he just couldn’t bring himself to quite confront Wild yet. He didn’t see what happened, but he saw the aftermath, and Sky saw it so he was told the details in quiet whispers a little while after. Twilight shoved Wild out of the way so he could protect the younger from the misfired blast of a Guardian.

Wild blames himself. Time doesn’t have any doubts about it. Wild is so ready to risk his life for others, but the second someone does it for him he goes to a place so deep in his own mind that Time isn’t sure that he can pull him back out without a fight. This is why Time has been dreading the moment he’ll have to talk to the kid, but he also knows Wild will do nothing but damage himself if left to his own thoughts. It’s already beginning, the distance Wild has set between himself and Twilight is a clear indicator of that.

Warrior clears his throat and Time is brought out of his worries, looking up from the makeshift split he’s been setting on Warrior’s injury. Warrior has a look in his eyes that lets Time know that they’re thinking about the exact same thing.

“I can talk to him,” Warrior says, voice low so no one but Time hears.

Time almost wants to agree. Warrior is fully capable of this task. He doesn’t talk too much about his trials, but Time does know he has lead armies into battle, into war. It’s in his name. He’s seen stuff like this before. Time’s sure he’s witnessed soldiers collapse in the heat of a fight; good soldiers, soldiers with friends and family waiting for them. Time could put this on him and let Warrior deal with the fallout of telling the hard truth to a boy who does not want to listen, to a boy who will only blame himself.

But Time also knows that he cannot dump this on Warrior. Time is responsible for the group, and he’s probably one of the only ones to truly know and understand Twilight.

The most important person in the entire world to Twilight wasn’t Zelda. It wasn’t Midna. Or Colin. Or Ilia.

It was Wild.

And that fierce… love went both ways.

No, no Time can’t let Warrior take the fall. The man may be a captain, a seasoned hero of war, but, in this group, Time is the leader. It’s his responsibility. He’s the only one that can do it.

“See if Four needs any help making dinner,” Time says, trying to give Warrior both a grateful and determined expression. Warrior studies him for a second, glances at Wild, then sighs.

“I trust you, old man,” he consents, though his voice still sounds stern, his look giving away nothing as he stands up and limps towards Four whose smacking Hyrule’s hand away with the spoon.

Time sighs and glances back over at Wild and Twilight, his heart tightening in his chest with indescribable worry and fear.

Don’t be a coward, Time. Rip it off like a bandage. Get it done and over with. Worry about the fallout later.

Finally, Time stands up, and before he could even hesitate he begins to walk towards the kid that’s supposed to be cooking right now. Towards the young man that’s losing the battle for his life. Towards two heroes desperately hurting in very different ways.

Time sets himself down next to Wild, and Wild doesn’t react. He just stares at Twilight and somehow manages to press his knees even closer to his chest. He doesn’t even spare a sideways look.

Slowly, with much unsurety, Time lowers a hand down onto Wild’s shoulder. Wild stiffens slightly, and usually that stiffening would go away after a few moments… but this time it sticks around. Time doesn’t let that deter him. He can’t afford to let it.

“How are you holding up?” Time asks.

Wild doesn’t respond, just takes a deep breath and lets it out. For a moment, Time really thinks that there will be no getting through to Wild. He’s too deep in his grief. Too deep to be pulled out by a few words and touches.

But then, Wild responds right when Time was about to jot this down as a hopeless venture.

“He won’t last the night,” Wild says, his voice thick. Wobbly.

Time swallows and follows Wild’s gaze down to Twilight, and for the first time since the incident, Time really looks at his protege. The skin not inflamed and blistered is pale and sickly green. Sweat is glistening off every inch of skin, soaking the bandages hiding the tendril like burns embracing his body. He matches Wild in the worst way possible. Destroyed tissue on his face, ear gone, scabs and puss staining the white cloth woven around his chest. He looks horrible. Looks like death. He’s probably in unimaginable pain and Time can’t help but think that Twilight not lasting the night would be a mercy.

“No,” Time croaks, “he won’t.”

Wild’s stiff shoulder suddenly jolts as he tightens his hold around himself, a pitiful whimper escaping his throat as he presses his eyes against his knees. Time sits there as Wild breaks apart, as another sob physically wracks through his small frame.

“It’s my fault,” Wild whimpers. “It’s all my fault…”

“No, cub,” Time says, heat threatening to break through his tear ducts, “it isn’t your fault-”

Wild only cries harder and Time does the only thing he can think of doing. He grabs his shoulders and presses the boy into his chest, holding him as tight as he can as Wild fully lost control of himself, cries of anguish and pain shooting out into the night. It’s loud, not a single emotion holding back, but Time doesn’t attempt to hush him. No one turns a judgmental eye towards them, all of them perhaps thinking the same thing.

It’s about time someone broke.

Time whispers every comfort he knows into Wild’s hair as he glances up at the others. Legend is leaning against a tree, glaring at the fire with a suspicious glisten in his eyes. Sky has Hyrule pulled under his arm in a comforting one armed hug, Hyrule’s shoulders shaking slightly while Sky glances at Time with an alone tear trailing down his cheek. Four and Warrior has stopped cooking, and by the looks of the pot sitting just off the fire, they have given up at it; neither are crying but both look very ready to, especially Warrior as Wind climbs into his lap and grasps around his waist, a look of pure sadness screwing up his youthful features.

Liquid finally breaks through, and Time doesn’t wipe the army of tears trailing down his face for a very long time.

Twilight stops breathing twice in the night.

They weren’t able to save him the second time.

-o-o-o-o-

At first, Wild’s angry. Beyond angry.

The rage in his gut burnt with a fiery passion and the tree that came in front of him and his sword didn’t see it coming.

Neither did his now shattered sword.

But… that was weeks ago.

Now?

Now he’s just numb.

He doesn’t quite know how to… face it anymore. Anger, sadness, the whole process of grief didn’t work. It still hurts, It still clutches his heart and tear through his chest with every blink of his eyes, every flash of fire that came with each blink. It repeats, over and over and over and Wild’s pretty sure he’s tried everything to quench the guilt, the pain, and every time he ends up back at square one.

Alone.

He’s alone.

Alone and numb.

Numb because what’s the point of feeling anymore? All feeling does is hurt him, all feeling does is get the people he cares about killed.

It’s killed Mipha. Urbosa. Daruk. Ravio. It’s sentenced Zelda to 100 years of torture and solitude. It’s sent soldiers to die. It’s sent fields to burn. Mountains to fall. Dragons to become ill. Guardians to turn. So many people have died, gotten hurt, had their lives destroyed because of a boy named Link who decided to pull a sword out of stone, who thought he could be a hero.

All feeling is good for is causing a mess and leaving him to clean it up.

Twilight is just another name to add to the list.

So… he’s numb. The world passed easier that way. He made it through the funeral. The words they all said, that he stayed silent through. He made it through their group stumbling upon Ordon Village like some sick joke from the goddesses just a few hours later. Made it through Time telling the families there that their boy isn’t coming home. Made it through the crying children, the sobbing young woman beating against Time’s chest, the empty house filled with memories of a life snuffed out, the horse named Epona nipping at all their ears as if asking “Where is mine?”

He made it through all that without another temper tantrum. Without another break down, or panic attack, or any ugly crocodile tears. Made it through without saying a word even. He hardly remembers any of it, just the major details that his brain will naturally store away for him to remember in his nightmares. He has even avoided the temptations to grab his slate and hyper focus on every picture of Twilight that he has.

Because that hurts.

Numbness is better.

Yes, numbness is so much better, he thinks as he sits alone in a small clearing leading to a beautiful spring occupying a rather majestic stream of knee high waterfalls. He has just managed to avoid Time once again—the old man has been giving him a lot of looks lately and Wild is getting rather frustrated with them—and took off into the paths leading outside of the village he can’t wait to leave. He walked without purpose, only wanting to get away and not have the constant inkling at the back of his mind that tells him to tell them what really happened. Tell them all that Twilight didn’t die heroically, he died protecting a kid who can come back from the dead easily. He died trying to be a hero, only got himself killed in the process. If Twilight was thinking, he would have known that Wild might die from that blast, but he would have quickly came back. Twilight should have left it alone. He should have stepped aside and let the beam kill Wild for the second time in his life.

Instead, he got himself dead for a useless purpose. It’s Wild’s fault, he should have been paying attention so Twilight didn’t even feel the need to shove him back.

His fault…

No, no be numb.

He sighs and looks at the clearing and spring around him. It’s gorgeous here, and for a second he wonders if Twilight ever spent time here, if he ever played in that spring water or sat in this very spot watching the fish. He rubs a hand over his face, hoping to maybe banish those thoughts as well because they hurt and he really doesn’t want to hurt any more. He really doesn’t want to think about how even if Twilight used to spend time at this spring that his presence will never grace this place again.

Being alone is a bad idea, he realizes as he glares at the waters, thinking is a bad idea too, but thinking comes when one’s alone and he was never good at meditation.

But he also thinks being back at that village with his comrades and the kind strangers is a bad idea too. Wild can feel himself be wound tight light a string tied between two wild boars trying to run in the opposite directions. He’s succeeded for so long at ignoring the aching in his chest, but it isn’t like this is the first time he’s done this to avoid the hurting and churning. He’ll snap soon. He knows he will. It’s only a matter of time, and he’d rather do it silently and alone than loudly and with company.

A lung full of air. Out. The ripples in the water reflect the golden sunset. In. Breath wobbles. Out. Tears sting. In… his heart clenches. Out… the first unwanted whimper escapes.

In. A tear falls.

Out. His head sinks to his knees.

In.

He wants to scream.

Out.

He’s too busy biting his lips.

In…

Out… It’s his fault.

In… He didn’t get to say goodbye.

His breath catches.

He cant breath out. He’s sobbing now, his ears ringing. His brain is screaming at him to pull himself together, that he should just suck it up and ignore it like he’s done for so long—but then his heart clenches and he knows that he just let the dam burst. There’s no hope to stop the waters, they come out with every gasp, every whimper, every cry, every action to curl tighter and tighter within himself, and they’ll keep flowing until there’s no more water to flow, until he can work up the strength to build up the walls again.

It hurts. He hates it so much. Everything hurts.

It’s his fault. It’s all his fault.

Zelda. Mipha. Daruk. Revali. Urbosa. Zelda. Mipha. Daruk. Revali. Urbosa. Zelda…

Twilight.

He cries harder. Faces. Names. Voices. It’s all too loud, and now instead of trying to ignore it he’s trying to drown it out with his own cries, his own pain. Maybe, if he shows how much he hurts, how much agony he’s in, the faces and blame will leave him alone for a little while longer. If he screams loud enough into his legs and arms, the voices will dim. If he-

Something brushes against his fingertips, and he’s startled out of his own misery, head shooting up to find that his fingers are resting in the golden, rippling water of the spring. His shoes are drowned up to his ankles, and his butt is soaked. Somehow, the water has risen, and now he’s sitting in it.

He blinks, wiping the tears from his cheeks and taking a gasping breath of air, and he looks at the waterfalls, trying to figure out how the water even rose in the first place. Oceans have tides, springs don’t. Or at least he doesn’t think they do. Not that it matters, he’s just… thankful that it managed to bring him out of his agony so it didn’t have to take it’s own time fading.

Something flashes at the top of the spring, at the third and highest waterfall section, and he blinks when the form of a silver creature catches his eye.

His breath catches in his throat when the figure comes a bit closer.

A wolf.

Thousand’s of emotions flicker through his head like a slideshow and he holds his breath as the wolf jumps down the first section of waterfall. It’s fur is a beautiful, glittering silver color that glitters like there’s a bucket of stars connected into each strand. He doesn’t even think to run or grab his sword, he’s too transfixed as the creature jumps down the next section and there’s not a single splash. Down the last and there’s white, familiar patterns on the muzzle and forehead of the creature.

He doesn’t dare breathe. If he breathes, whatever he’s seeing could turn out to be a sick joke.

The wolf pads towards him, head tilted slightly and those blue, blue eyes flashing with sadness and worry.

And then, the silver fur ripples like the pond it’s walking on. Flashing a pure gold and morphing to a taller, more human figure colored in grays and glowing whites like the moon. If Wild had blinked, one second a wolf would be tilting its head at him and the next he would be smiling down.

But he didn’t blink. He didn’t breathe. He’s terrified to.

“Hey, cub,” Twilight says, smiling.

And curse it, the dam breaks again, though, not in the same way as before.

He scrambles to his feet, golden water dripping from his clothes and splashing upwards with every desperate, running step he takes further into the spring. The smile on his face widens as Wild gets closer, but Wild can hardly even see through his tears as he launches himself forward in one last, desperate burst.

For a second, terror clutches his heart that he’s going to close his arms but they will only go through, but it’s too late to stop his arms, too late to stop his body, and the pure joy that fills his entire soul when he physically crashes into Twilight is intoxicating. If he’s dreaming, he will make the most of it and hold Twilight as tight as he can.

Twilight laughs and encloses his own arms around Wild’s body as they both stumble. Twilight sinks into the water and they fall together into the spring, drops splashing upwards and soaking both of them.

They hold each other. Wild has no plans on stopping as the tears fall again, as his chest lurches with his cries. Twilight doesn’t seem to mind a whole lot, in fact he helps position them both so they’re more cuddling compared to the mess of limbs they were before. The coolness of the running water ripples against their clothes and skin like a heartbeat.

“I’m sorry,” Wild chokes out after what must have been half an hour of just sitting there, hugging, and crying. “I’m so sorry.”

“Shh, cub,” Twilight soothes, “I don’t blame you. No one blames you. It was me, I made the decision.”

That makes Wild cry harder. His throat, stomach, and chest hurts so much.

“It’s alright, I’m here, it’s all okay, cub. I’m so sorry it took me so long to find you again, I should have found you sooner.”

Wild shakes his head, because Twilight is trying to push the blame onto himself and nothing is okay, but he can’t work up the strength to argue anymore. He lets Twilight hold him as his shutters and gasping stops, lets Twilight continue to hush him and whisper comforts until there’s nothing but the spring water to pierce the silence of the evening forest.

It’s peaceful. Somehow, Wild feels more at peace than what he has felt in months. He doesn’t want to break it.

Twilight breaks it.

“I can’t stay much longer, cub,” he whispers and Wild bites his lip.

He knows how this works. Spirits can never stay long.

“I needed to see you,” Twilight continues, his voice sad, “and I needed to give you something.”

Wild lets Twilight grab his hands and help him to his feet. They’re both soaking, but the chilly breeze and the low sun doesn’t seem to affect either of them. He forces himself to look up at Twilight who is now standing just a arms distance away. His smile is sad, eyes glistening.

He opens his mouth, and cuts himself off with a nervous chuckle. It’s so Twilight. It’s so him. The guy is like a child doing a bad impression of an adult in an actual adults body. He’s trying to be serious, to the point, factual, but Twilight is just as an emotional mess as Wild is, and he can never keep a straight face long even in the most serious of topics.

Wild feels like he can breathe for the first time in a long time.

“Look, I… I did what I did and I don’t want you to blame yourself, kid,” Twilight says and Wild’s lips thin, already preparing himself for the inevitable lecture. Trust Twilight to come back as a spirit and “give” him a lecture. Twilight must catch sight of Wild’s nonplussed expression because his face suddenly breaks out in to a splitting smile accompanied this time by a genuine laugh.

“Okay, okay, how about we leave that to the old man, huh?” He jokes.

“Why… are you here?” Wild asks, and man does his voice sound unused. Raw.

Twilight licks his lips and brings his hand to the back of his neck. “I… I can’t just leave you. Alone. I can’t. I’ll never be able to rest if I don’t know you’re safe.”

He sucks in a deep breath and Wild watches with wide eyes as Twilight reaches towards his chest and there’s a bright flash of golden light that has Wild blinking spots from his eyes. Within a second, Twilight is standing before him with an orb cradled in his hands, a blood red color.

Twilight isn’t looking at Wild, but down at the orb like he himself is fascinated by it. The corners of his lips tilt slightly upwards and he sighs. “Go, and do not falter, my child,” he says softly, as if to himself, but Wild doesn’t get to question it because Wild looks up at with with a set jaw and determined eyes. “Take it.”

“I-”

“Cub. Please. I love you so much. The gods gifted me this form in life… I want you to take it, and be safe. I have no need for it anymore.”

He holds out his hands and Wild cups the orb in his hands, waterworks starting up again, but he quickly wipes them away with his shoulder as the warmth of the orb dissolves in his palms, spreading over his fingers like a liquid and trailing up his arms to the center of his chest, where there’s a burst of golden light and the familiar feeling of something greater than himself entering his being. He feels warm. He feels safe.

Suddenly, he’s pulled back into a fierce hug and Wild grasps onto Twilight’s clothes because he knows, he knows it’s almost over. It’s almost time to part. To say goodbye.

“Promise me, cub” Twilight whispers into his hair, “promise me you will be safe.”

“I… I promise.”

-o-o-o-o-

At first, he was afraid.

Now, he’s loved.

He’s running, faster than what he’s ever ran before. The world is at his heels, branches and leaves whip past his snout as he pushes harder, faster, breathing hard and going going going-

Going where? Not sure yet.

All he knows is that… he’s free. The world is nothing but a blur zipping past his gaze, streaking past his pumping legs, left behind his tail.

He never wanted Revali’s Gale, or Urbosa’s Fury, or Daruk’s Protection.

He never wanted Mipha’s Grace.

The thought of owning the powers of his dead comrades, dead friends, set his stomach in a knot, but they were always useful. He learned to get used to it. Learned to appreciate the gifts he was given and use them in the best way he knew how.

He never wanted this gift either. Goddess, if you were to tell him that someday the Hero of Twilight would pass away, would sacrifice himself to save him, and then give him a very special ability that was such a huge part of who Twilight was… he probably would have thrown hands.

But… it’s been a few months since that meeting, since the funeral, since the death. Wild has learned to… appreciate it. Twilight is right, this gift definitely made him feel less alone. Every time he uses it (at first reluctantly, now whenever he gets the chance), he can feel Twilight watching over him from some unknown plane of existence. He can feel the warmth, and it’s not the dirty blond fur on his body radiating that heat. It’s a different kind of heat.

“I know you’ll find this gift useful,” Twilight had said, before he finally faded away, “I certainly did. Whenever you use it, I want you to remember how many people are there for you, how many people would fight for you. There are so many of them. Take it. Use it. Twilight’s Love is now yours… well, it always has been.”

Wild howls, feeling strong, feeling free, feeling loved, as he pushes himself faster up the hill, tongue lolling out of his panting jaws. Someone calls out his name and he sprints harder, barreling through the grass and jumping into the open arms of none other than Wind. Wind laughs from the bottom of his stomach, small fingers climbing up and latching themselves into Wild’s fur. Time stands off a small distance, the others not far behind, all smiling.

A broken family, all doing their best to remain strong.

And there’s something graceful about that, isn’t there?

[broomballkraken]

Title: The Apothecary and The Dancer, Chapter 9: A Dancer’s Faith

Fandom: Octopath Traveler

Pairing: Alfyn/Primrose

Word count: 5006

Warnings: None

Summary:  He was very good at healing physical wounds, but he was not well versed in healing emotional ones. But that would not stop him from trying, for her sake.

With the cool mountains of the Highland wilds behind her, Primrose entered the town of Everhold. Surrounded by her seven companions, Primrose’s eyes blazed with determination as she steeled her mind for what she was about to do. One hand clenched into a fist, while the other instinctively went to her dagger, a habit that she would be all too happy to break after she had her revenge. It was so close now, and she was practically shaking with anticipation. Simeon would pay for everything that he had done to her. She would make damn sure of that.

A soft, gentle hand covered her clenched fist, snapping her out of her dark thoughts as she looked up at Alfyn’s smiling face. Primrose forced herself to smile back as she unclenched her fist and took his hand, entwining their fingers together.

“Prim, you know you don’t have to fake a smile for me.” Alfyn said softly, giving her now shaking hand a comforting squeeze. She nodded slowly, the smile indeed falling from her face, replaced by a grim frown.

“I...Thank you, Alfyn.” Primrose said, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. “I am...just too used to hiding my real emotions. It will take me awhile to break all of those habits from my days in Sunshade.” Primrose averted her gaze and worried her bottom lip between her teeth, but she looked back up when Alfyn tugged gently on her arm. She let herself be pulled into his warm, tender embrace, and Primrose was reminded that she always felt the safest when Alfyn’s arms were wrapped securely around her.

“It’s okay. I’m here for you.” Alfyn whispered in her ear, and a genuine smile crossed Primrose’s face as she buried her face into his chest, her hands clinging to his back as he continued to hold her. He rubbed his hands gently over her back, and Primrose sighed deeply as some of the tension plaguing her melted away. Alfyn truly was the most wonderful man that she had ever met.

“If you two are done with, uh, whatever you call that, we should probably get going and find this Simeon guy.”

Alfyn and Primrose regretfully pulled away from each other to find Tressa watching them, a sly grin on her face that caused Primrose to blush and turn away.

“Ah, right. Let’s go.” Primrose said quickly, glancing at Alfyn to find that his face had gone completely red, and she giggled as she grabbed his hand again. He rubbed the back of his head bashfully with his free hand and they both followed Tressa to catch up with the rest of the group.

After inquiring about Simeon’s whereabouts with some of the townspeople, the group of travelers found themselves at the top of a set of stairs, leading to a bridge that crossed over to a looming amphitheater. Primrose’s eyes narrowed into a glare as she pictured Simeon’s sinister grin, and her jaw clenched when his maniacal laughter echoed in her mind.

“So this is the stage for the final act…” Primrose mumbled to herself, her eyes taking in the sight of the massive structure. She would have thought it was beautiful, but knowing who was waiting for her inside dulled her impression of the building.

“We wilst haven to be careful.” H’aanit said, leaning down to pet Linde’s head, as the snow leopard had started growling loudly, “I hath a bad feeling about this place.”

“Indeed.” Olberic said, nodding in agreement. “This is Simeon’s turf, and I am certain that he will use that to his advantage.” Primrose swallowed thickly as she nodded, a nervous tightness forming in her chest. She would not lose to that bastard of a man. She could not.

“Don’t worry, Prim.” Alfyn said, his hand falling to rest on her shoulder. She looked up to find a confident grin on his face, and that eased her mind a bit. “If we all work together, there’s no way he can beat us!”

“Yeah! We’ll make him pay for what he did to you!” Tressa exclaimed, her eyes narrowing as she gripped the straps of her backpack tightly.

“Now, now, calm down you two,” Cyrus chimed in, shaking his head. “We cannot just rush in haphazardly. I fear we would be playing right into his hands.”

“Tch, you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you Cyrus?” Therion said, rolling his eyes as Cyrus laughed sheepishly and rubbed at his neck.

“If you are referring to that business in Stoneguard, that was just...bad luck.”

“Just remember, Primrose,” Ophilia said, ignoring Cyrus and Therion’s banter, “we’ll be by your side the entire time, so you will not be alone.”

“I...thank you, everyone. I’m very glad that I met you all, and that we’ve become such close friends.” Primrose said, her heart swelling with happiness as her seven friends smiled at her. Her gaze moved to the amphitheater and her eyes narrowed. She was ready for this, she had to be. And, most importantly, she was not alone. Having her friends by her side gave her all the courage that she needed to finally avenge her father’s murder.

“Let’s go finish this. Together.” Primrose said, and with that, she rushed in to face whatever fate had in store for her, alongside all of her most treasured friends, and the man that she loved most in the world.

*

Alfyn could barely contain his anger as he, along with the rest of the group, listened to Simeon and Primrose exchange heated words. In all his days, Alfyn had never met such a cold-hearted, despicable, and downright evil man. Sure, Miguel had been a murderer and a thief, but Simeon was worse in Alfyn’s opinion, due to his sick obsession with Primrose’s misery that he himself had caused. His grip tightened on his ax, and he found himself thinking that he had never wanted to hurt someone so badly before, and that scared him slightly.

“Prepare to die, Simeon.” Primrose said, venom dripping from her words as her grip tightened even more on Alfyn’s hand, but he hardly noticed. All he could think about was what an awful bastard this guy was, and Alfyn would be sure to make him pay for hurting Primrose, both mentally and physically. Not just because he loved her, but because Primrose had done nothing to deserve such pain and suffering.

“Bastard…” Alfyn growled quietly through grit teeth, as he watched the beginning of Simeon’s twisted play along with the rest of his friends. Was this...about Primrose’s life? His theory was all but confirmed when Primrose squeezed his hand so tightly that it hurt, and when he glanced over at her, her eyes were wide, her face was pale, and she was biting her quivering lip to try and hold back the tears that were pooling in the corners of her eyes. Primrose’s eyes suddenly narrowed and she took a step backwards, her hand slipping from Alfyn’s as she turned to address the group.

“Come, we must not become distracted,” she said, her tone calm and even as she held her head high. The sight took Alfyn’s breath away, and he smiled as he tightened his grip on his ax. They decided it would be best to split into two groups to try and corner Simeon by taking both paths through the amphitheater. Olberic, Tressa, Therion, and Ophilia took the right path, while Primrose, Alfyn, Cyrus, and H’aanit took the left.

“Amazing! To think that this used to be an old castle. Whoever did the renovating for the theater did a remarkable job…” Cyrus said as he gazed around curiously.

“Primrose juste said to not getteth distracted, Cyrus.” H’aanit said, narrowing her eyes as Cyrus chuckled sheepishly and fiddled with his collar.

“Er, right. Apologies.” he said as he and H’aanit walked on ahead. Alfyn stopped when he noticed that Primrose had paused, moving into a nearby vomitorium, and was watching the next part of the play, her face unreadable. Alfyn silently moved to stand beside her, and she reached out to take his hand. Her own was trembling, and he entwined their fingers as he used his other hand to rub the back of hers gently.

“You alright, Prim?” Alfyn asked softly, although he probably already knew the answer to that question. Primrose was silent for a moment, her eyes locked onto the stage as the scene came to an end.

“...Yes, sorry.” was her quiet response, and Alfyn frowned when she did not meet his gaze. His free hand went to cup her cheek, and he gently moved her head so that she was looking him in the eyes. He saw the pain that she was trying to mask behind a look of indifference, and his heart clenched at the sight.

“Shucks, Primrose…You’re always chargin’ forward with a full head of steam.” Alfyn said, “Just starin’ straight at the goal in front of you. I just...well, make sure you stop and take a breather sometimes, okay? I know it’s hard when this bastard Simeon is playing with your emotions but…” Alfyn trailed off when Primrose squeezed his hand and pulled him forward into a hug.

“Perhaps you’re right.” she said, her hands gripping tightly at the back of his shirt. She then pulled away and turned to head back the way she came. “There, done. Let’s go.” She glanced over her shoulder, and the small smile on her face made Alfyn’s heart soar, and he smiled back, gently squeezing her hand that he was still holding.

“Right behind ya!” he said. Off they went to regroup with H’aanit and Cyrus, and then to confront the source of Primrose’s pain and misery, to silence him for good.

*

With the rest of their friends preoccupied with fighting off Simeon’s animated marionettes, Primrose finally confronted Simeon, with Alfyn right at her side. Anger blazed in her eyes as she stood across from the man who ruined her life, her hand gripping her dagger so hard that her knuckles had turned white.

“Ah, Primrose,” Simeon said, a sinister grin crossing his face, “You’re life was a beautiful tragedy the moment you were brought into this world. Surely you-”

“Alright, that’s enough!” Primrose’s eyes widened as she turned to look at Alfyn. The angriest glare she’d ever seen on his face was aimed at Simeon as he thrust his ax in his direction. “I won’t let you torment Primrose any longer, you bastard!”

“And who is this now? Have you taken on a new lover, Primrose? He seems a bit...lowborn for you.” Simeon said, and Primrose grit her teeth as she placed herself between him and Alfyn.

“He has nothing to do with this. This is between you and me.”

“Oh, no, he has everything to do with this. Such a delightful turn of events. How should the next act of your miserable life play out now?” Simeon mused, his eyes drifting between Alfyn and Primrose. “Should I kill you in front of your lover, so you can listen to his anguished screams as your life fades away?” Primrose’s stomach dropped as her face paled at the horrifying thought.

“Or,” Simeon continued, laughing as Primrose began visibly shaking, “should I kill your lover here, and watch as the last sliver of happiness leaves your eyes, and renders you a completely empty shell of a human being, devoid of all of the good things that life has to offer you-”

“ENOUGH!”

Primrose inhaled sharply as Alfyn stepped in front of her, eyes wide as she watched him. She had never seen him this angry, not even when he found out what Vanessa had done to Goldshore, or even when Miguel had abused his kindness and kidnapped that child in Saintsbridge.

“You’re nothing but a monster in human form!” Alfyn snarled, “Taking such pleasure in someone else's pain and suffering is unforgivable! Especially since you caused it all!” Alfyn took a step forward, slashing his ax in front of him as Primrose could only watch in stunned silence.

“I’ll say it again: I won’t let you hurt Primrose any more. You won’t be killing me or her today. It’s you who’ll be dead by the end of this!”

“Well, well, you certainly fell in love with a feisty one, my dear Primrose. Unfortunately for the both of you, I am a very jealous man, and I cannot just overlook this common piece of filth attempting to steal you away from me.” Simeon said, casually waving his hand in front of him. Two marionettes appeared at his side, bearing striking resemblances to people that Primrose would rather not think about at this very moment.

“She was never yours, bastard!” Alfyn yelled, his face red with anger, “You don’t deserve someone as kind and selfless and-” Alfyn stopped when Primrose placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, and he lowered his ax slightly as she stepped in front of him, her eyes narrowed into a glare as she turned her attention back to Simeon.

“Ah, Primrose. Are you ready to have your revenge? What would your father think?” Simeon taunted, lazily twirling a finger in his long silver hair.

“My father is dead.” Primrose said plainly, her expression blank. She closed her eyes for a moment, the events of her past leading up to this moment flashing behind her eyelids. It was a hard life she had lived up until now, but recently there were good memories to look back on. Her adventures with her eight most recent friends played in her mind as well, with Alfyn’s smiling face at the forefront. Yes, she would end this, and she would find her happiness at last. “He would understand, and this will be the end of it. When I plunge this dagger into your breast, it will all be over. I will finish this.” She heard Alfyn move to stand beside her, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw that H’aanit and Cyrus had finally made it passed Simeon’s other lackeys and they came to stand beside her and Alfyn.

“Ah, perfect…” Simeon said, sighing dramatically as he waved his arms in front of him, “That heated look in your eyes...yes, this is the girl I fell in love with all those years ago…” Primrose heard Alfyn scoff loudly beside her, and she reached over to gently take his hand, which he held firmly.

“Come to me, Primrose! Let’s bring this beautiful tragedy to a close!” Simeon said. With that, his marionettes charged forward, and Primrose let out a yell as she moved to meet them, with Alfyn, Cyrus, and H’aanit following close behind. She knew that they would prevail, for her faith in her friends, and in the man that she loved, would be her shield.

*

Simeon was dead. It was finally over. Primrose took a few steps backward, her bloody dagger falling from her hand, and the clattering sound of the blade hitting the floor was oddly deafening. She suddenly started shaking, her breaths quick and short, and her legs turned to jelly as they gave out from under her. Before her knees could hit the floor, however, a pair of strong, warm hands caught her, as they had many, many times before.

“Primrose…” Alfyn’s soft voice hit her ears as he slowly lowered the both of them to the floor. Primrose gulped and slowly lifted her gaze to his face, his eyes filled with concern, care, and...love. She took in a deep breath and, like a dam bursting after a flood, she broke down sobbing as all of her pent up emotions rushed to the surface all at once. She buried her face into Alfyn’s chest, quickly soaking the front of his shirt with her tears. His strong, warm arms wrapped around her, one hand rubbing soothing circles over her back, while the other moved to the back of her neck to gently support her head.

“I’ve got you Prim. I’ve got you.” Alfyn whispered in her ear as he continued to hold her, patiently letting her cry out her overwhelming feelings. He could not begin to fathom how many conflicting emotions she was feeling right now, but he could be a source of comfort, and that’s what he would be, as long as she needed him. It was the least he could do for the woman that he loved more than anyone else in the world.

The room was silent for a few long minutes as Primrose continued to cry against Alfyn’s chest. It seemed that the rest of their friends had left the room, giving them some much appreciated privacy. Alfyn made a mental note to thank all of them for that later. He noticed that Primrose’s sobs had slowed, and they eventually ceased altogether. She took in a deep, shaky breath and let it out slowly, and she finally lifted her head from his chest to look him in the eyes.

“Alfyn…” Primrose choked out, her throat sore from her crying. He smiled softly down at her, and she sighed deeply and closed her eyes as he cupped her cheek, brushing away the tears that were still left on her face. His other hand moved to push a few stray hairs out of her face.

“You did it, Prim. You finally avenged your father.” Alfyn said, “You’ve been so strong all this time, and I know I’ve only known you for a short time, but I’m proud of you, and I think your father is proud of you too.” Alfyn’s heart soared when Primrose laughed weakly, a few stray tears falling down her cheeks that he quickly brushed away for her. Her smile was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen, by a long shot. He hoped that he would get to see it more often now.

“Thank you, for everything you’ve done for me.” Primrose said, reaching up to place her hand over one of Alfyn’s that still covered her cheek. She felt...lighter. Like a heavy stone that had been crushing her chest had finally been lifted off of her. She was free of her most daunting burden, and she could finally look forward to her future, instead of being consumed by her past.

“It’s gotta feel good, right? Now your heart is free from all of that pain! I’m happy for you.” Alfyn said as he beamed at her. Primrose blinked at him, her hand moving to rest on her chest over her heart. ‘Clear your heart of that burden, and then be honest about your feelings for Alfyn.’ Olberic’s words of advice echoed in her mind, and she smiled softly, removing her hand from her chest and instead placing it on Alfyn’s.

“Yes...my heart is finally free,” Primrose whispered, her other hand moving to cup Alfyn’s cheek. “Free to give to whoever I choose.” She giggled when Alfyn’s face flushed a bright red, his mouth opening and closing a few times as he tried to think of a response.

“I, uh...well, yeah.” Alfyn said, stumbling over his words, “W-Whoever you give it two will for sure be the luckiest person in the world-” Primrose rolled her eyes, and decided to stop Alfyn’s rambling in the best way she could think of: by leaning up and pressing her lips to his in a soft, yet tender kiss.

Alfyn’s heart leapt into his throat when Primrose’s soft, beautiful lips pressed against his, and he watched as her eyes slowly slipped shut. He froze for a moment to make sure that this was indeed happening and not just a cruel, cruel dream. When he decided that this was real, he smiled against Primrose’s lips and wrapped his arms around her, one hand moving to the small of her back while the other settled in the loose hair at the back of her neck. Gods, he thought that the first kiss that he shared with Primrose was wonderful, but this was on a whole other level. The happiness he felt was overwhelming, and tears begin to prick at the corners of his eyes.

Primrose snaked her arms around Alfyn’s neck, pulling him even closer as their lips melded together. It had been a long, long time since she had been this happy, and felt so wanted. That was all before she had met Alfyn and fallen hopelessly in love with him. She felt now that she could finally express those feelings, without having her dark past plaguing her heart. Her eyes cracked open when she felt moisture hit her lips, and she broke the kiss when the taste of salt hit her tongue.

“Alfyn, why are you crying? I am that bad of a kisser?” Primrose teased, giggling when his eyes widened and he quickly shook his head.

“Oh, gods no, Prim!” Alfyn blurted out, blushing as Primrose smirked and reached up to wipe his tears away. “I’m just...so happy. I’ve kept my true feelings for you bottled up for so long, and to finally kiss you properly...Well, gods, it’s just kind of overwhelming I guess.”

“And what are these true feelings, hm?” Primrose asked, though she already knew the answer. Alfyn smiled fondly at her and reached up to cup her cheek as he rest his forehead against hers.

“Love. I love you, Primrose.” Alfyn said softly, and it was Primrose’s eyes that welled up with tears this time. “I’ve...never felt this way about someone before. You’re just so kind and beautiful and strong and amazing in every possible way. I couldn’t help but fall head-over-heels for you.”

“Oh, Alfyn…” Primrose sniffed as a few tears fell down her face, and Alfyn brushed them away, placing gentle kisses on each of her cheeks afterward, “You are truly the most wonderful man that I’ve ever met. I...know that I was wary of you at first, and I may have treated you a bit coldly.”

“Aw, don’t worry about that. I know you were treated pretty badly by men before…”

“Even so, you were one of the few that treated me well from the start. When you offered to take care of my wounded foot, I was wary, for the awful men that I encountered in Sunshade always had ulterior motives. When you asked for nothing in return, I was...confused to be honest.”

“It’s fine, Prim.” Alfyn said, taking her hands in his and giving them a gentle squeeze. “I was just doing my job as an apothecary, and as a friend.” Primrose chuckled and leaned forward to give Alfyn a quick kiss, and she paused when she pulled away to watch as Alfyn’s entire face lit up.

“And I am grateful for that. I think after that I slowly started falling in love with you, even if I didn’t fully realize the depths of my feelings at first. I just…didn’t think you could ever love someone as broken as me. And I didn’t want to give you a heart so tainted by my past.”

“Wait, you mean…?” Alfyn breathed, eyes wide and jaw falling open in disbelief. Primrose laughed and reached up to push his jaw shut, her hand lingering to cup his cheek. Right, she hadn’t expressed her true feelings yet.

“Yes. I love you too, Alfyn.” Primrose said. She was startled when Alfyn let out an excited ‘whoop’ and pulled her into a tight hug.

“Shucks! You mean it, Prim?” Alfyn said, pulling away with a toothy grin on his face. Primrose laughed and brushed a hand over the hair on the side of his head.

“Of course, Alfyn. I would never joke about something like this. Is it really that unbelievable that I love such a handsome, wonderful man like you?” Primrose teased, and Alfyn blushed and averted his gaze bashfully.

“Wow, I just always thought you were way out of my league. Didn’t think you’d ever fall for a poor, country bumpkin apothecary like me.”

“Well, if it was any other poor, country bumpkin apothecary, then probably not. But you are a very special man, Alfyn. It only seemed natural to fall in love with you.”

“Ah, gosh, you’re making me blush.”

“Oh? It’s cute, so maybe I should keep teasing you.”

Laughter echoed throughout the room as Alfyn and Primrose kissed yet again, tender and soft and filled with their immense love for each other. Wrapped tightly in each other’s embrace, they both secretly wished that this moment would never end. It just seemed too perfect.

“Hey guys! We’re happy for you and all, but we really don’t want to be here all day!”

Regretfully pulling away from each other, Primrose and Alfyn looked over to find Tressa poking her head in the room, a mischievous eyebrow raised and a knowing smile on her face.

“Er, right.” Alfyn said, his face flushing a bright red as he cleared his throat and stood, offering Primrose his hand. She giggled and took it, letting him pull her to her feet. When Tressa retreated from the room, Primrose stole another kiss from Alfyn’s lips as she entwined her fingers with his.

“Well, shall we head for the tavern, my dear Alfyn? We have much to celebrate after all.” Primrose laughed when Alfyn nodded eagerly as they walked towards the door.

“Yeah! All this excitement has got me mighty thirsty.”

“You always seem to be thirsty.”

“Only when there’s good ale to drink!” Alfyn winked as Primrose rolled her eyes, and they were all smiles as they went to reunite with their friends, hand-in-hand and with hearts filled to burst with the love that they held for each other.

*

After a late night of drinking and merriment, the group of eight travelers were ready to set out again by midday the next morning, once the many hangovers had been treated of course. Primrose stood at the edge of town, waiting as Alfyn caught up to her, his hands shuffling around in his satchel as he mumbled to himself.

“Alright...It looks like everything I need is here and ready to go…” he was saying when he stopped in front of Primrose. “Ah, Prim, are you sure you’re okay with not going back to Noblecourt right away? I’m sure the others would understand if you-”

“It’s fine, Alfyn.” Primrose interrupted, chuckling as she took his hand. “My father’s grave will be there whenever I choose to go back. Besides, Olberic and H’aanit still need help with their quests, and I promised to be with everyone until the end.”

“Alright, if you’re sure.” Alfyn said, smiling fondly as he lifted Primrose’s hand to his face and placed a light kiss on her knuckles. “It’s actually good that we’ll be heading to the Riverlands, ‘cause I heard quite the piece of gossip from the apothecary here.”

“Oh?”

“Apparently there’s a sickness plaguing the town of Orewell, in the Cliftlands. Was thinking we could swing by there after we help Olberic and see if I can do anything to help out there.”

Primrose smiled fondly at Alfyn, her heart swelling with pride. She really had fallen in love with a selfless, kind man, and she was happy that she did not have to keep her feelings a secret any longer. She leaned up and placed a kiss on Alfyn’s lips, and she giggled at the goofy smile on his face when she pulled away.

“Shucks, Prim, I reckon I’ll never get used to you just randomly kissing me like that. I feel super warm and giddy inside.” Alfyn said as they started walking down the road to catch up with the rest of the group.

“You’re so cute and innocent, Alfyn. It’s rather adorable.” Primrose said, and she giggled when Alfyn’s face scrunched up and he looked away.

“C’mon, you make me sound like a kid or something…” he grumbled, and Primrose grinned as she slipped her arm behind his back, while his automatically fell to rest over her shoulders.

“Sorry, dear. You’re just too fun to tease.”

“I guess…”

“Mmm, I’ll find some way to make it up to you later.” Primrose leaned up to kiss him on the cheek, and she lightly caressed his waist. Alfyn shivered under the touch, his face turning beet red as he sputtered.

“U-Uh, I mean...that’s, uh…” he said, and Primrose made a mental note of how easy it was to completely fluster him. Oh, this was going to be fun…

“Ugh, get a room already!” Therion said as he came up behind Alfyn and Primrose. “Do we really have to put up with this for the rest of our trip?”

“Oh, Therion,” Primrose said, chuckling as Alfyn just looked away in response, “no need to be jealous. Why, if you just told a certain someone how you feel about them, you could enjoy the same-”

“Never mind!” Therion said quickly, muttering to himself as he quickened his pace to get as far ahead of Primrose as possible. Alfyn shared a glance with Primrose and they both burst out laughing.

“You’re something else, Prim.” Alfyn said, squeezing her shoulder as their laughter died down.

“I do hope that’s a good thing.” Primrose teased.

“Of course it is! I only ever have good things to say about you!”

“Ugh, you are so sickeningly sweet, Alfyn.”

“Aw, I know you like it though, darling.”

Alfyn and Primrose laughed as they resumed their journey, not just the one that they were continuing with their friends, but the one that they had just begun, as lovers.

[triskghg]

Heartbeats in the cold - Gency FanFiction

Title: Heartbeats in the cold

Relationship: Gency

Fandom: Overwatch

Rating: T

Warnings: angst, blood, violence, injury

Words: 3K

Summary: Mercy and Genji make their way to Moscow to visit a Scienceconference, but their Airship gets attacked by Talon on the way. Landed in the snowy landscape of Russia Mercy gets injured in combat with Talon. Genji is now at the task of finding help and heat for his lover, but his time is running out...

Notes:

This is my first FanFiction and woundnt be as it is without the great help of the wonderful @nitewrighter Thank you so much!

Also since this is my first FanFiction I would be happy for any feedback!

—————————

Heartbeats in the cold

The Airship made a jump several feet downwards and upwards again, the engine fighting against the strong wind.

Genji gazed out of the window into the brightness of the snow outside. He had a bad feeling in his stomach, the whole situation felt wrong.

“What is the matter dear?“ Mercy asked while gently rubbing her thumb over his cybernetic arm.

“This trip is not worth the risk, anything could happen.“ Genji answered, continuing watching the snow storm outside the airship.

“This Conference is very Important for the Nanotechnology and I want to share my knowledge with scientists from all over the world,“ Mercy stated.

The seatbelt symbol over their heads lighted up, “We‘re currently experiencing some turbulences,“ the pilot announced over the passenger comms, “please buckle yourself up.“

“Also, how are we going to improve if we don’t share our knowledge?“ she continued.

“I'm totally fine with that, but not under these circumstances.“ Genji said and turned his head to face her. “Not when it puts you at such danger, not when it’s in Moscow at winter season, we’re not even flying with one of the orcas!“

Mercy’s gaze softened, “I know this isn't the safest we’ve been, but traveling with a private airship is the best option we have. We can’t take an orca to an public event.“ she said, “It would be far to obvious in front of the media, people are going to be suspicious that I'm traveling with an former Agent already.“ she continued.

“I'm not going to let you go on this trip alo-“ Genji started.

“I know and I deeply appreciate that you care so much Genji.“ Mercy laid her head on his shoulder and took his hand in hers. “I enjoy your company.“

The airship made an slight dip in height again.

“Angela did you take the valkyrie suit with you like I asked you to?“ Genji asked, the feeling in his stomach was getting worse and worse.

“Of cour-“ Mercy started but a strong vibration went through the ship, causing Mercy to stop in surprise.

“We’ve got a bogey on us.“ came the concerned voice of the pilot over the comm channel.

“Genji what was that?“ she asked right before another vibration went truth the ship, this time the right side of the airship dipped down and it’s nose went downwards for 20 degrees.

“We have a problem with our right engine!“ The Pilot informed them over the comms, “Brace yourselves!“

Genji looked out of the window trying to get a look on the engine and for a brief second he saw a shadow flying past them, almost not visible in the snow. “This must be Talon, I told you this wasn't a good idea!“

An explosion, this time really visible, hit the right engine again and it caught fire. The ship now really lost momentum and started spinning.

Alarm beepers went off and they kept losing altitude rapidly.

Mercy instinctively grabbed Genji‘s arm, her fingers clinging around it.

Genji saw their altitude dropping on the screen and checked Mercy’s and his seatbelt before the airship hit the ground and everything went black.

-

The loud beeping of his amor, designed to give him consciousness back as fast fast possible in emergency, woke him up.

Genji‘s vision slowly came back, a cold wind went through the passenger room. He slowly started moving and regaining his memory, the airship, the snowstorm, their crash.

Drinks, pieces of glass, their luggage, everything was scattered around. He looked at his side and found Mercy still unconscious beneath him, he had a moment of shock but let out a sigh in relief when he saw her still breathing.

He gazed at Mercy searching for injuries but she seemed to haven’t gotten hurt just as him, the snow and the other engine really had slowed down their fall.

Talon, Talon was going to check if they survived! They had to move. He opened his seatbelt and turned over to Mercy, opening hers too, Mercy groaned.

“Are you okay?“ He asked, searching eye contact. Mercy’s gaze focused, “Y-yes i'm fine.“

Genji supported her as she stood up and looked outside and found the snow storm still going.

Mercy was going to freeze to death, he needed a heat source. The Valkyrie Suit!

He quickly opened their luggage and took the suit out.

“Angela, Talon is going to be here any second, we got to get on the move!“ he told her.

“What’s about the Pilot?“ Mercy asked. In that moment a metal sound came from the front of the ship, “They’re here! Angela come we need to take the back exit.“ Genji whispered, alone he may would’ve been able to kill them but he didn’t wanted risk Angela being hurt.

“But the Pilot! He-„ Mercy attempted to say, but in that moment they heard a gunshot drowning the sound of the snow storm for a moment.

“We need to go, now!“ Genji insisted and pulled Mercy to the exit. He used the emergency mechanism and opened the door, kicking it open.

Genji grabbed the Valkyrie Suit and Mercy tighter and ran out of the airship. They were able to see the Talon ship behind their airship, Genji quickly scanned the surroundings and headed straight to a forest nearby.

“They will catch up to us with the ship in no time, we need to run to the forest, we have no choice, let’s go!“ he stated, after a few moments they entered the forest hearing the Talon agents shout behind them.

-

The forest was dark, their run was slowed down by the snow, but it was thick so they didn’t had to fear the Talon ship.

After the first tiny hill they surpassed Genji turned and looked for the Talon agents. They seemed to run back to their ship.

“Genji, I can’t keep this up for long in the cold.“ Mercy said, totally out of breath. He gave her the Valkyrie Suit, it had its own heating.

After Mercy changed clothes and left her casual clothes behind, Genji gave one last look behind. The Talon ship had started and hovered in front of the forest. The next second two motorcycles jumped out of it, hovering close over the ground, two Talon agents on each one. They had a good lead but with those motorcycles and their footsteps still visible they would catch up very soon.

Genji took Mercy by the hand again and pulled her in the direction of a rocky hill nearby.

“They got motorcycles!“ Genji said alarmed.

“We need to get up those rocks so they can’t follow us, their altitude is limited.“ Mercy said and started running, Genji following closely.

They started to climb the hill, with Genji jumping up and helping Mercy to follow. 10 seconds later the Talon agents arrived and stopped their motorcycles, shooting at the couple.

Mercy ducked into cover activated her damage boost on Genji. He threw some shuriken, hitting one Talon agent in the throat.

But they were far from done, the Talon agents leaned over their motorcycles and tipped on the screens. Genji watched in confusion as the motorcycles started to repurposing themselves.

The motorcycles rebuild themselves into Tiger like omnics of solid metal, they looked around for a brief of a second before fixing their eyes onto the couple.

“Well that's new!“ Genji said.

The first omnic immediately sprinted to him. With two giant leaps it were beneath Genji and crashed right into him, sending them both rolling one rock platform underneath. Genji fought against the giant claws of the omnic, pushing it of him. At that moment the second omnic leaped over him on the way to Mercy. Genji quickly jumped onto his feet, drew his wakizashi, sliced half through the omnic he was fighting with and followed the second one.

As Genji arrived on the platform, Mercy had already switched to her caduceus blaster and started shooting at the omnic. Her shots hit it in the upper body and legs but the omnic only twitched for a brief second, it leaped forward and hit Mercy with its claws of her side, causing her to scream in pain. Her suit got ripped wide open as the claws cut through it. Luckily the suit took most of the damage, but Mercy still got a big wound which started bleeding immediately. She tried to block the next hits from the omnic with her caduceus staff, but it immediately broke under the force of the next hit.

Still, it had protected Mercy from another direct hit and Genji wasn't going to wait until the omnic would hit her again, he quickly dashed through the omnic slicing it in half.

The remaining Talon agents grabbed the edge of the rock, Genji quickly turned and sliced them to pieces one by one.

Then he ran over to Mercy which was lying on the rock holding her side, her face reflecting her pain.

“Angela!“ he shouted, “Angela, answer me!“

Genji rolled her onto her back.

She groaned, “My-, my Valkyrie Suit,“ Mercy fought for every word, „it got damaged, it’s not healing.“ she nodded at her wound.

Genji started to panik, “What do you mean it doesn’t starts healing? Why,- Why isn't it working?“

“The power supply must've been damaged,“ Mercy said, her face distorted with pain.

Genji’s looked at the power supply at the top back of Mercy’s Valkyrie suit, “It’s completely destroyed, there’s basically nothing left of it.“

Genji took her caduceus staff trying to activate it, but the machine didn’t responded to any inputs.

“Your staff isn't working too, do you have any backup?“ he asked.

Mercy shook her head slightly, “Normally the biotics in my suit are my backup, but I’ve never dealt with damage like this.“ She jerked under another wave of pain.

Mercy started ripping off some of the fabric of the valkyrie suit's tassel, “Careful! If you move too much you'll bleed out!“ Genji said worried.

“I can handle myself!“ Mercy answered, but groaned under the next wave of pain. She pressed the fabric on the wound, “Just need to press down, no problem.“

“We need to find help soon, are you able to walk?“ Genji asked her.

“I can walk, I just need a minute.“ Mercy answered.

“We’re almost at the top, I will carry you up.“ Genji leaned over Mercy and tried to lift her as careful as possible.

“Please watch- ouch!“ Mercy jerked in pain.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, we‘re almost there, just a moment.“ He lifted her up and laid her on top of the next rock, then he quickly followed and supported her as she stood up.

“This could work, just press the fabric down, i'm going to hell you.“ He laid his arm under her arm and together they started walking through the snow.

-

The wound stopped bleeding soon, but the open suit and the lack of heating drained Mercy’s energy. Genji knew she wouldn’t make it for long and the sun seemed to sink faster with every minute.

The snow caused every step to be twice as exhausting, they had stopped talking after a short while.

At some point, Genji didn’t knew how long they had been walking, Mercy got slower and slower, every step was taking more of her energy and she was worn out completely.

Mercy had stopped wiping the snow out of her eyes, it was a hopeless fight. Her body felt sore all over and she was dizzy.

“Genji, I-“ Mercy collapsed in exhaustion, “Angela!“ Genji turned, catching her fall, “We need to move, please Angela, we need to continue.“

“I'm so tired, just need a minute.“ Mercy whispered quietly.

“We don’t have a minute!“ Genji said pleading, “Come on please Angela!“ he continued desperately.

He lifted her bridal style and started carrying her, the fear of losing her gave him new strength.

“Winston and the others surely noticed that we’re not responding and they will find us.“ Mercy said, her eyes half closed already.

Genji reinforced his grip, “We just need to keep walking closer to civilization, please stay awake!“

Mercy pressed herself against Genji, she fighted against the unconsciousness slowly crawling up her body. She didn’t even felt the wound anymore, her whole body was getting numb. The heating in Genji‘s armor was barely noticeable at the outside, but she clinched onto it, as she slowly drifted off.

-

The sun was setting as they finally reached the end of the forest, but Genji‘s hope was crushed as the wide white land at the end of the forest greeted him with an cold wind.

Mercy had stopped trembling and wasn't showing any reaction to his calling anymore, but she was still breathing.

In the half darkness he noticed an black shadow on the left. Genji’s heart made a jump. Never he had been so happy about seeing an Talon ship. They were waiting for the bikers they had send out before, their communication blocked by the weather as well, this was his chance!

One Talon agent was sitting in the cold nearly sleeping. He clearly had the job checking the area, but he didn’t paid attention at all.

Normally, it would be no problem to sneak past him, but with his energy drained and Mercy in his arms, he was very thankful for this sleepy enemy.

Genji surrounded the ship and looked out for an place for Mercy, he didn’t wanted to lay her in the snow but there seemed to be no other option.

He cursed the weather and slowly made his way to the now sleeping agent.

He looked up the entrance of the ship but there was nobody, he laid Mercy as quiet as possible on the entrance, since there was no snow.

Genji turned and quickly sliced through the neck of the agent with his wakizashi, killing him with almost no noise.

He didn’t wanted to lose any more time and rushed to the entrance. After quickly checking Mercy’s pulse he took a deep breath and quietly opened the entrance of the ship.

He lurked in the room and saw four remaining Talon agents, two playing cards, one sitting on the pilot seat and one with his weapon on his lap, sitting at the side.

He took all the remaining strength in his body and dashed into the group, killing the one with the weapon first. The others jumped up, but he had already turned and drew his katana from his back.

He dashed forward and sliced the agent nearest to him in half, turned around and stabbed the other agent which played cards just moments ago in the stomach. Right as he turned to the remaining agent at the pilot seat, a gunshot hit his cybernetic arm. The agent sitting on the pilot seat had grabbed a pistol he didn’t saw before. He dashed past the agent and kicked his pistol out of his hand from behind, loading one shuriken at the same time and throwing it into the neck of the agent.

While the agent fell out of his seat he quickly returned to Mercy and carried her into the ship. After laying her on the table he searched for an first aid kit and returned to Mercy.

Her pulse was almost not noticeable and her breaths were slow. Putting the heating in the ship to the highest setting possible and talking to her, he prayed he wasn't too late.

He cleaned and bandaged her wound and kept trying to wake her.

“Angela, Angela please wake up, we’re save now, we can go home!“ He said over and over again, shaking her gently and caressing her cheek.

Mercy felt cold, she felt cold and everything was black. She tried to move or open her eyes but she couldn’t, her whole body felt sore and energyless.

Slowly her senses came back and she started to feel her wound again, the hard surface of the table and a voice. The voice got louder and she recognized it was Genji’s voice, she felt him caressing her and she heard the worry in his voice.

After what seemed an eternity struggling, she finally managed to open her eyes and after the vision got clearer she saw Genji’s worried face over her head.

Her Gaze focused, “What, what happened?“

“Angela! Finally, I was so worried, everything is going to be alright!“ Genji answered hugging her tightly.

Mercy returned the embrace, “My whole body hurts,“ she replied, “where are we?“

“In the Talon ship, it was the only heat source I could find, they waited for us at the end of the forest.“ Genji explained.

“Are they gone?“ Mercy asked scared.

“Yes, they won’t hurt you, I-“ Genji looked at the Talon agent to his feet sliced in half, “lead aggressive negotiations.“

Mercy tried to lift her upper body in a sitting position and immediately regretted it, “Ouch, can we go home?“

Genji supported her back to her lying position, “You can’t stand up now, let your body get some rest.“ He said, “Yes I will contact the watchpoint as soon as possible.“ He looked out of the window, “We need to wait until the storm no longer blocks the communication.“

“This table is very hard, is there any other surface I can lay on?“ Mercy looked around, “Oh god...“

“It’s probably better you don’t focus on your surroundings-“ a loud noise came from outside, Genji was instantly alarmed, “Don’t move, I’m going to check what that is.“

Genji slowly made his way to the entrance and lurked outside.

“It’s the orca! They found us!“ He waved to the orca outside which was already starting to land. 10 seconds later Tracer already zipped over to them.

“Hey loves, we finally found you! Your signal was lost for hours, so we searched for you.“ She said. She looked into the ship, “Oh god, Angela love, are you alright?“

“I‘m feeling sore all over but I’m alive.“ Mercy answered.

“Let’s go home!“ Genji said and carefully lifted Mercy to carry her to the orca, “I want to go home and forget snow for now.“

“Same for me.“ Mercy agreed and snuggled up against Genji.

After they arrived at the orca and Brigitte had taken care of Mercy they started their flight to the watchpoint.

Genji watched Mercy sleeping, the exhaustion had defeated her finally and she had fallen to a deep sleep.

He gently brushed his hand over her cheek and gave her a kiss on the forehead. Finally she was safe and they could leave this horrible trip behind.

He looked out of the window and saw the the sky clear up as they moved away from the storm. From this distance, it looked like an white soft blanket covering the earth up, but he very well knew how cold this blanket could bite.

[write-havoc]

This Is How I Disappear Ch. 1

Summary: A girl named Chuck finds herself in the exact place she doesn't want to be, living with violent men in a desolate nursing home. After her former gym teacher finds her, will he be the savior she was looking for?

Fandom: The Walking Dead AU

Pairing: Negan/Original Female Character

Status: Completed (story continues in The Flame Is Gone, The Fire Remains)

Contains: swearing, violence, sexual assault, blood, smut

Readers 18+ of age only

Masterlists in my bio

Tears stream down Chuck’s face as she sits in her small room, writing in her diary. It wasn't always like this. Sure, it’s the apocalypse and all, but it hadn’t always been this bad for her. After the dead started walking, Chuck had wandered around by herself for a while. She knew that people would be scared and desperate and, therefore, dangerous, so she tried her best to stay away from them. Having zero experience with weapons and poor fighting skills meant that simply not engaging groups of the living or the dead was the easiest and most effective way to survive for Chuck. At least for a time, anyway.

Chuck moved from place to place, as long as it was desolate and safe. When other people or the dead got too close, she’d leave to find another place to call home. At first, food and water weren’t that hard to find, but after a while, supplies became severely limited as buildings were picked over by other survivors.

While looking for the provisions that she desperately needed, Chuck ran across what appeared to be a formerly upscale nursing home surrounded by a high fence. There was a faded wooden sign set beside a large gate painted with the words “Rolling Acres”. She staked it out and discovered that a small group of people had made it their home. These people were mostly middle aged and elderly men and women, but there were a few men in their mid twenties, close to Chuck’s age, as well. They had enough land that they utilized by building a large vegetable garden and raising chickens and a few cows. Chuck could see that there was an array of solar panels set up on the roof, as well. As far as she could tell, it seemed like they were doing fairly well for themselves. Chuck weighed the pros and cons of going it alone vs living in a community and decided that she would approach them. She could always leave later if it didn't work out, she figured.

It only took a short while for Chuck to decide to stay permanently. The whole reason she thought that going it alone was the safest option was because she didn’t trust people. But the people at Rolling Acres were good and she did have a good life with them. She had enough food, a safe place to sleep, plus running water and electricity. She even had a job as the assistant to the community's doctor, Dr. Stewart, a kind elderly man. He taught her many things about basic first aid as well as more in depth medical care. Having always been a fast learner, Chuck rather quickly became comfortable working around the infirmary.

Ever since Chuck was little, it had always taken her a long time to feel truly comfortable around people. She was a little awkward and painfully shy, traits that didn't seem to go away with the end of the world. Even though she had always been most comfortable by herself, she had become close with a few of the members of the group, even considering them to be like family. Being one of the youngest and quietest members of the community, most of the others tended to see her as a child. Just a shy girl that stuck to herself. Not that that was any different from the time before the dead started to walk. Chuck had never been the social butterfly.

The group had lived together peacefully without major incident for about two years. But all that changed when a horrible flu had spread through the community, catching everyone off guard. Almost all of the residents fell ill and all of the elderly and infirm had died from the illness. Chuck and the other younger residents tried to prevent the dead from turning, but there were too many to take care of and too few healthy people to do it fast enough. More quickly than Chuck and the others expected, the dead reanimated, and they tore through the rest of the group, quite literally. When all was said and done, only Chuck and three young men had managed to stay alive.

One of the men, Jacob, had stepped up to become the leader. He was in his early thirties and older than the rest of the survivors by at least a few years. His natural charisma and abilities made him a natural choice for leading the small group. Under his leadership, the four of them worked together to try to get their home back to the way it had been. All the corpses were burned and all the rooms were cleaned top to bottom. It was hard work, but necessary if they wanted to resume the lives they had been living before.

Jacob had convinced the other men to focus on scavenging outside the gates, leaving Chuck to do most of the jobs at home. She tried her best to keep up with the work, but it was too much for her to do by herself. She soldiered through it, though, thinking that it was fine because she was safe and fed.

That didn’t last for long. Eventually, Chuck saw the men change. It seemed they got more and more violent with every scavenging trip. They spoke of what happened beyond the walls and it disgusted Chuck. They reveled in the ways that they killed the dead and even bragged about the living that they had slaughtered. Chuck had begun to distance herself from them spending more time alone in her room, hoping they wouldn't turn their wrath on her. Of course, she wasn't so lucky.

In time, being raped became a routine for Chuck. One night, Jacob had asked her to sleep with him. When she refused, he took what he wanted from her. It didn't take too long before all three men would take turns raping her, each having his own night alone with her. Being the leader, Jacob took most nights, though, and he was the roughest of the three. Although this was a living nightmare for her, she never fought back or tried to run. Both options seemed to be like suicide to her, the men were much stronger than her and it had been so long since she had fought off the dead by herself. When they were with her, the only thing she could to was dissociate from what they did to her. Every morning she would wake up, do her jobs, and try to forget the night before.

Currently, Chuck is sitting on her bed worrying about exactly what the rest of the day would bring. Will is on guard duty at the gate while Jacob and Dennis had gone out on a mission. Jacob had been watching a group that seemed to make routine runs for supplies. Supplies that Rolling Acres is in desperate need of. He was confident that he could take the group out and steal the truck with everything inside. Chuck thought it was too dangerous to deal with other people, but she didn't voice her opinions to the men. They wouldn't listen to her anyway.

A little bit later into the night, Chuck’s door swings open and she is met with Jacob’s grinning face.  

“Aren't you going to ask me how our mission went, honey?”

  I really don't care.

 “Good, I'm assuming,” she says apathetically.

“Why don’t you lighten the fuck up?” He spits the callous words out like it‘s nothing. “We got tons of nice shit tonight. We got meds. Fresh fruit. Booze! Even got something for you.” With that, he tosses a hunk of black cloth at her.

She catches it and holds it out in front of her to get a good look at it.

  A little black dress? Are you kidding me? Why would I want this?

 “Why don't you put that on and join us in the rec room? We're celebrating tonight!” He turns and leaves unceremoniously.

Reluctantly, she does as she’s told, knowing that if he wants her in that dress, she’d end up in it no matter what. It’s a bit too tight, but she gets it zipped up. She’s not sure if that was how a garment like that was supposed to fit, never having the confidence to wear sexy clothes in her previous life. She was always a T-shirt and jeans kind of girl, not wanting to draw too much attention to herself.

She gets up to look at herself in the mirror and all she is embarrassed at what she sees.

  My boobs are almost spilling out of the top it’s so low cut and revealing! Ugh, this skirt is so short. If I bend over, my butt will hang out.

I hate being looked at the way they're gonna look at me dressed like this .

There is nothing to this dress, it's so skimpy. God, I'm so uncomfortable. Why can't they just leave me alone?

 She leaves her room quickly, not wanting to make Jacob wait. As she walks the empty halls to the rec room, music and laughter slowly drift to her ears. She turns a corner and walks slowly through the double doors to the source of the noise. Will and Dennis sat on a couch with a few open bottles of liquor on the coffee table in front of them, obviously a bit drunk already. Jacob is standing off to the side of the couch, holding his own bottle of liquor and laughing like everything is great. Chuck hates having to pretend like the way they are living is normal, like there is anything worth celebrating tonight or any night.

“Oh shit! You look hot in that dress,” Will proclaims as Dennis lets out a whistle.

“Shut the fuck up, guys. This is all for me tonight,” Jacob says while coming forward and grabbing Chuck’s hand, pulling her into his chest. He wraps his other arm around her lower back and begins to sway with her to the music. He holds her close to him for a few songs, staring intently at her face. “Isn't this nice, honey?” he breaths out, trying to sound sweet but failing. His pet name for her always turned her stomach. He drags his hand across her cheek, tucks a lock of her strawberry blonde hair behind her ear, and cups the back of her neck possessively. She always hated it when he touched her face.

“Uh, yeah. It's very n-nice, Jacob,” she replies as steadily as she possibly can while looking straight forward into his neck.

“Do you want a drink?” Jacob whispers in her ear. Chuck had only ever had a few sips of wine in her whole life and never had the want to drink anything more.

  Maybe I can get hammered and not even remember what will happen tonight. That doesn't sound so bad, actually.

 “Yeah. I'll have some.”

Jacob begins to walk over to the coffee table to retrieve the bottle of whiskey he had set there.

“Did you guys hear something?” Dennis slurs out, looking toward the far wall.

“No. What did it sound like-“ Jacob is interrupted by every door in the room opening at the same time. Several men pour into each entrance until the room was virtually filled. Chuck and the three men are completely surrounded in seconds and wildly look around at all the movement. Will tries to stand and pull his gun, but is swiftly taken to the ground and disarmed.

“Alright. I'm gonna need you people to get on your knees right now,” bellows a tall man with a mustache who is walking toward the middle of the room. Will is already on his knees and, after looking around at all the very armed strangers, the rest join him. Chuck kneels down at one end of the lineup with Jacob to her right. The intruders come up behind the group and begin to search them, pulling out all their weapons and pocketing them. Chuck has nothing on her, but is thoroughly searched anyways.

  This is so bad. I knew messing with that other group would be dangerous. I knew it! These guys are going to kill us. God, I hope they do it quick.

Oh god, I'm wearing this stupid dress. What if they think I'm a sex slave or something. I don't want them to use me like that. I can just imagine what these men are capable of.

I'm wearing practically nothing. They can see I don't have any weapons. Why won't this guy get his hands off of me?!

 Chuck looks up from her thoughts to the mustached guy, who seems to be glaring at the man behind her who is “searching” her very thoroughly. The groper looks to the mustache man and steps back quickly, empty handed, and joins the others behind the group. The mustache man’s gaze lingers on Chuck for several seconds as everyone finishes up.

With the search all done and the group disarmed, the mustache guy calls out, “Good! It's all ready for you, boss!”

The men behind the mustache man part and another man comes through. He is tall and lean with a salt and pepper beard, dressed in a black leather jacket and loose gray pants. The middle aged man has jet black hair slicked back perfectly. But the only thing Chuck can focus on is the barbed wire covered baseball bat he has slung over his shoulder.

“Is this it?” the new man asks with an air of condescension, gesturing to the group.

“Yup. No one else on the property,” mustache man replies casually.

“Really?! No shit! How did these sorry fucks kill four of my men and drive off with a shit ton of my shit?”

This man’s voice ticks something in Chuck’s brain. She no longer focuses on the bat, but on the man’s face. She recognizes him.

  Oh my god. That's… my gym teacher from high school! That's Coach Negan! He has a beard now and he’s a bit thinner, but that's totally Coach!

 Chuck’s first instinct is to jump up and scream for the familiar man to take her away from here, away from them. The dangerous look on Negan’s face gives her pause, though. She knows this world can change people into monsters, that fact evident with the men currently kneeling beside her. They had been different before, good even, when she had first met them. This Negan standing before her may be wholly different from the one she last saw when she was a senior in high school seven years ago. He could even be far worse than the men beside her and she has no way of knowing just yet. With that in mind, she decides that she doesn’t want to call attention to herself. He probably wouldn’t recognize her if she just keeps her mouth shut. She has to look completely different now than what she did in high school, right?

  Who am I kidding? I probably look exactly the same. Same strawberry blonde hair. Same fair skin. Same freckled cheeks. Same big, green eyes. Maybe a little thinner, but not much, really.

Ugh. Maybe he just won't remember me, period. People generally don't pay me any mind. I pretty much try not to be memorable. Sure, I had kind of a special relationship with him back then, but he had to have taught a ton of people, probably had a bunch of favorite students. Surely, he wouldn't remember one kid out of all of them.

 Just to make sure he doesn’t recognize her, she keeps her face down to hide it behind her long wavy hair.

Negan starts to pace in front of the group and gestures dramatically as he speaks. “Well this kinda ruins my fuckin’ plan here.” He seems to fake disappointment by dramatically lowering his shoulders. “See, I usually line you guys up, introduce myself,” he puts his free hand on his chest and leans closer to the group, “I'm Negan, by the way,” he stands back up fully, “put on a nice fuckin’ show for y'all, introduce you motherfuckers to Lucille here,” he holds out his bat and gestures to it, “by beating the holy fucking fuck out of one of you cocksuckers. The rest of you piss your pants, cry, the whole nine fucking yards and then,” he pauses to look over the group, “you agree to provide for me. I take half your shit, then you pay me every fucking week not to fucking kill any more of you. Bing bang boom. Home in time to fuck one or two… or three of my wives.” He pauses again. He looks over the men kneeling in front of him, completely ignoring Chuck. Something he sees seems to amuse him and he chuckles. “I mean, shit! I was under the impression that you motherfuckers that attacked my fuckin’ supply truck were part of a fuckin’ bigass group holed up in this big fuckin’ place. But that ain’t the fuckin’ case, apparently. Shit, if I take half the shit that you got in this place right now, that might not be so fucking bad, but what then? How much shit can two guys continue to provide for me? You know. Since one of you sorry fuckers isn't gonna see tomorrow." He chuckles. "Alive, anyway.”

“Three,” Will chimes in, for some reason.

Negan snaps his gaze to him. “Excuse me?”

“There would be three of us… left. If you k-killed one of us. We have four p-people... sir,” Will manages to get out.

Negan glares at Will for a moment then looks over the group. He whips Lucille around to point straight at Will’s face. “You're abso-fuckin’-lutely right, Mr. Smartypants, but don't fuckin’ interrupt me again.” His tone switches from jovial to dark in the span of seconds. Negan glares at Will for a few moments then smiles and turns to face Chuck. “How could I forget about this pretty little lady right here? Though I doubt how much shit she could scrounge up for me out there lookin’ like that.”

  Will, you idiot! Don't try to suck up to him! Why didn't you just keep your mouth shut?!

 Negan walks over to Chuck and crouches down in front of her. He pauses for a moment, looking her up and down, then takes her chin in his hand, gently lifting her face to meet his. She searches his eyes for some sort of recognition, but sees none. She gives a small internal sigh of relief that he doesn’t remember her.

“What's your name, sweetheart?”

“Ch-,” she starts to say “Chuck” but thinks better of it. “Chuck” isn’t exactly a common nickname for a girl and Negan may remember her for it. “Charlotte,” she answers quietly.

“Hmm.” He’s not really paying attention to what she says, anyway. He seems to be scrutinizing her appearance. He moves her face up and turns it this way and that. He pulls one arm out from her body and turns it out, then he does the same to the other. Chuck is confused as to what he is doing. Is he sizing her up? He shifts his gaze downward and puts his finger under the hem of her already short skirt and lifts it slightly up her thigh while cocking his head to the side.

  Oh, no. Not him. Please don't let him do this to me, too. I can't take it if he would hurt me.

   “You can have her. Take her. She's real sweet. She doesn't even fight back.” Jacob’s voice calls out and Negan whips his gaze up to glare at the man.

“Yeah. He's right. You can do anything you want with her,” Dennis nods, shifting his gaze between Jacob and Negan. Will is nodding his assent, as well.

“You don't find girls like her anymore. She'll treat you and your men real good. If you just let us go, you can have her. She has to be worth more than the stuff we took.” Jacob tries bargaining with Negan.

Negan looks at the three men then turns his head to look back at Chuck as she fixes her gaze to the ground. Tears begin to stain her cheeks.

  I should’ve run away. I'm so stupid. Why didn't I leave? Dying out there probably would have been better than this. Things are going to be so much worse now. I always hope for the best, but things always turn out so much worse than I ever could’ve imagined. Why do I even think there is any good left?

  “Is that so? I can just ‘have’ her? You’ll ‘give’ her to me?” Negan says in an odd tone, not looking away from Chuck. He slowly stands, walks over to mustache guy, and whispers something to him. Mustache looks at Chuck and then slowly walks over to her. He gently tugs at her arm and she reluctantly stands up.

“Come with me,” mustache guy says in a neutral tone. Chuck’s not sure what is happening, but she’s nervous.

  Is Negan actually taking me? Did he really think Jacob’s deal was a good one? Is this man taking me to their trucks?!

 The man leads her toward the front lobby, which is on the opposite side of the building from where everyone is. When they get to the room, he gestures for her to sit on a couch set on the left wall.

  Oh. He's not taking me to the trucks. I see. I know what he wants...  

 She just wants to get this over with, hoping that more men, or Negan, wouldn't follow this one.

“I'm Simon,” he says to her before turning away and looking around the room.

  Okay, then. I guess he wants me to know his name before he…

Just let him do whatever he wants and maybe he won't be too rough.

 Chuck slowly lays herself onto the couch and begins to remove her underwear. She had found that things would go more smoothly for her if she just cooperated. She gets her underwear to her knees before Simon looks back over to her.

“Oh, shit! No, no, no,” he says hurriedly while quickly making his way back to her. He grabs her hands to halt her motion and pulls them back up her thighs, along with her underwear. He gently grabs her shoulders and pulls her into a seated position, sitting beside her afterwards. “That's not what's happening here, angel.”

Chuck looks away, embarrassed, while wringing her hands harshly in her lap.

“Shit, they really did a number on you, didn't they?” Simon gently takes her chin in his hand. He turns her face this way and that, just like Negan had done earlier. He points at her throat with his other hand. “They leave all these bruises on you?”

Chuck barely even noticed the bruises anymore, they were so commonplace. Simon takes her arms and holds them out, examining the bruises there, as well. Then he looks down to her exposed legs and the dark bruises standing out against her pale thighs.

  Negan was looking at my bruises. He wasn't checking me out. Of course, he wasn't. Maybe he isn't a bad guy now. And he wants to take me away from here. Maybe I can trust him. Maybe I should tell him who I am.

 Chuck isn’t sure if Simon actually wants an answer to his question so she just nods slightly.

He lets out a sigh and looks away. “We're just going to wait here for a bit until Negan is done. Okay, angel?”

“Did… Is he taking their deal? Is he letting them go and … taking me? Like they said,” she says with a voice not much above a whisper.

“No. He wouldn't do that. We're not like that. Our group… we don't do that to women,” he says genuinely, if not a bit uncomfortably to her. “He's, uh, punishing them back there. You don't need to worry about it, okay?”

“Oh.”

  So he's killing one of them. He said that's what he'd do and he was always a man of his word. God, my high school gym teacher is killing someone right now. This world really is crazy. I wonder which one it is. I guess it doesn't really matter.

Wait, why am I out here? I'm part of this group. Shouldn't I be punished for attacking his men, too? Why did Simon say I didn't need to worry about punishment? Maybe they knew that I wasn't really involved. God, I hope so.

 After several minutes, Chuck hears a door open and heavy footsteps entering the room. She looks up to see Negan, now without his weapon and leather jacket, walking over to the couch. Simon gets up and gives Chuck a reassuring smile before patting her on the shoulder and leaving. Negan passes Simon and takes his place on the couch beside her.

All Chuck can do is stare at her hands fidgeting in her lap.

  I can't look at him. He knows what happened to me, what they did to me. He saw the bruises, heard the men talk about me.

Why am I so embarrassed? I didn't do anything wrong.

I don't want him realizing that he knows me, though. I don’t think I could take it. If I'm just some random girl to him, maybe he won't pity me as much. If I look at his face and see him pitying me, I think I'll break down.

Oh god, I can feel him staring at me. Just leave me alone!

 Negan lets out a huff and rubs his bearded face. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

She does as he says after she takes a few moments to build the courage.

“Those rapist pieces of fuckin’ shit won't ever lay their hands on you, or anything else, fuckin’ ever again. That shit does not fly in my world. So, Lucille got very up close and fuckin’ personal with the inside of those fuckers’ skulls.”

  Oh my god. He killed all of them. Not just one of them. And not for taking from him, but for hurting me. Negan had bludgeoned them to death. For hurting me.

Did they really deserve that? Does anyone really deserve that? Of course, they deserved it. They were monsters. They had hurt me so much. And they had killed Negan’s men for supplies. They were rapists and murderers.

But they had also been good men once. Maybe they could have changed back, been redeemed. Probably not, though. Does it make me a bad person if I'm happy that they're dead?

 Negan snaps his fingers in front of her face to bring her out of her own thoughts. “You're safe now, sweetheart. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Coach.” The words leave her mouth before she can think about it.

  Oh, no. Why did I say that?! I am so flustered that I can't think straight!

Negan had drilled into us that we had to address him as Coach. “Yes, Coach. No, Coach. I don't know, Coach.” Everything Coach! That training must still be buried deep inside my brain somewhere just waiting for the chance pop back out at the worst possible moment!

 Negan looks at her quizzically. He has to know now that he had taught her at some point in the past. He studies her, seemingly trying to place her.

Chuck gets more and more nervous under his gaze. She can feel her heart speeding up and her breathing is becoming shallow. Sweat starts to trickle down her temples.

*hiccup*

  Ugh. Why do I get the hiccups when I'm nervous!? That hasn't even happened to me in years! Since high school, probably. Maybe he won't notice. Please don't notice. Please don't remember me. Just leave me alone and let the earth open up and swallow me. This is all too much for me.

 Negan quirks his eyebrows, still staring intently. Then, he lets out a sort of gasp. “ Chuck!  That's you, isn't it? Holy fuck, I didn't even fuckin’ recognize you? Why didn’t you just say that your name was ‘Chuck’?” He looks all over her as if he hadn't really looked at her until now.

She lets out a sigh and looks up at him. The instant their eyes meet, truly meet, she starts to sob.

“Oh fuck.” He puts his arms around her and gently pulls her to him. She tenses up at the contact, but doesn’t pull away. “It's okay, baby girl. I got you. I’m here now.”

She continues to cry hard as she lets out everything that she has been holding in for months. All her grief. All her fear. All the hurt. He holds her in his arms and gently strokes her head as she cries herself out. After a few minutes, she pushes herself away from Negan and wipes her cheeks.

“You okay?” He looks at her with a small smile, his arms still on her shoulders.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” *hiccup*

“Shit, you still fuckin’ do that?” He laughs slightly and gestures vaguely at Chuck’s chest which is still spasming. “Just hold your fuckin’ breath and get rid of them,” he says between soft chuckles.

She holds her breath as long as she can which calms her down and stops the hiccups. He looks her over for a few moments, his expression turning from slight amusement to something more dour, almost apologetic. That look only lasts a moment before he starts to smirk again.

“This place is nice as fuck so it's mine now. I'll leave some men here and use it as a fucking outpost. And you? I’m taking you back with me to The Sanctuary, the best fuckin’ place to be in this sorry ass world. You'll be fucking safe there, I guarantee it.” His expression turns more serious again as he runs his hand over his beard. He looks down at her bruised thighs and sighs. “You didn't deserve that shit. You were always a good fuckin’ kid. I always liked you.”

“Thanks, Coach.” She gives him a small smile.

  He really is the same man I knew before. Or at least that same man is in there somewhere. I can trust him, can't I?

 “Why don't you go to your room, change out of this shit,” he gestures to her dress, “and pack a fuckin’ bag. Okay, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Coach.”

He chuckles and then sighs. “Just call me Negan. No one needs to know about my past.” Chuck nods and quickly walks off to her room, eager to leave the place she had called home for two years, and hell for one year, behind.

[old1ddude]

Reflections in Pink

Harry Styles was being set up for solo success almost since the formation of One Direction.  He was given the highest platform to dive into solo stardom from, but the waters beneath were all the more treacherous for it.  

It was only natural for PR surrounding Harry’s solo launch to hype him as much as possible.  It’s all been done a thousand times before - or has it?  The expectations surrounding Harry’s launch were monumental, contradictory and just plain impossible.  Given his ridiculous charm, talent and reputation, Harry was expected to drop an album that would dominate top 40 charts, world-wide.  His album was supposed to be Pop, but not formulaic Pop.  Pink was supposed to be steamy and sexy, or sexually ambiguous and gender neutral, depending on what segment of fandom you came from.  Harry was expected to be a consummate singer, songwriter, social justice warrior...  The list goes on and on.

It seems that many expected Harry to be a militant, music messiah.  He would march forth as king - carrying Louis, Niall and Liam in his train - Azoff as his general - forever vanquishing the power of record labels.  (I must admit to falling into this type of thinking myself - to a slightly less hyperbolic degree.)  

In truth, I don’t think Harry sees himself as a powerful person at all.  I think he has seen himself as an ant - desperately trying to avoid being trampled by enormous, music industry feet.  He purposely sought out the biggest sharks in artist representation - sharks who could hopefully protect him.  Harry, at this point in his career, has not sought to right every wrong in the music business’ power structure.  He is not a militant force, whatsoever.  What he has done is to create the safest possible space for himself and his fans - a refuge and shelter.

Treat People with Kindness wasn’t an afterthought.  It is a re-iteration of “the golden rule” that is bigger than any one moment in time, or whatever the current, hot button political issues are.  Other than embracing his own, LBGT+ community, I don’t think Harry wants his career to be bogged down in current political discourse.  (Even though he has given a more subtle nod to a couple current issues.)  I believe that Harry is aiming for some transcendence in message and music.  

Harry did not release the album he was supposed to.  It’s not Pop, it doesn’t sound current, at all.  Rock is a flagging genre.  This presented HSHQ with a problem.  Following is an excerpt from this post by @lawyerlarrie.  Used by permission.

I think the album Harry made is the album he wanted to make. While I hope he grows going forward, I don’t think anyone forced him to make a certain type of music. And the reality is that that musical taste is out of step with mainstream pop right now. They had to deal with a pop star who doesn’t make pop music. And the music industry doesn’t know what to do with that. They just want to make money and this isn’t a way that has proven profitable in the past. So everyone’s sorta winging it. It seems contradictory because it IS, because Harry is an individual with his own taste and not just a demographic. And the music industry has trained us to respond as a demographic. When we don’t – when a rock-singing, Liberace-dressed pop star’s audience is made up largely of twenty-to-fifty-something wlw with the earnest devotion of teeny boppers and way more cash and way more voice and agency – they don’t know what to do. Because that’s not a demographic they’ve ever noticed before.

All things considered, ‘Harry Styles’ has been a remarkable commercial success, given the kind of music he made.  HSHQ did their damnedest to get Harry the critical attention he so richly deserved.  They had some success, but ultimately, the Grammys couldn’t see anything beyond the tips of their noses - if that thing came from a boy-band without wholesale rejecting everything said boy-band had stood for.  The Azoffs know their business, but there is no road-map, or framework for marketing a gay, closeted, “womanizing,” 1970′s rock singing, LBGT promoting, Pop icon.  Also, they don’t know what to do with his audience, as @lawyerlarrie explained.  No wonder there has been some conflict in his marketing.  Not to mention, a good deal of misunderstanding what his lyrical tropes truly signify.  

Touring Pink is where Harry chose to make his most personal statement.  This should come as no surprise.  Even in the last years of 1D, the stage is where he let his guard down most.  Harry Styles is the rock star who hates fame.  He loves and craves attention, yet requires a great deal of privacy.  He’s dealing with his own, internal conflicts and incongruities.  The stage is where he made enormous strides in confidence and presence as a solo artist.  He pushes through his fears - that is the definition of bravery.  (I can’t imagine headlining SNL just as he’s trying to figure out how to be a solo performer.)  He waves the rainbow flags and acknowledges his community, but larger still is his timeless message, “Treat People With Kindness.”  And yes, that means all kinds of people.  What kind of rock star image is that?

It’s hard to say how quickly his public image will change, or exactly where it’s going.  His arena tour culminated with the statement, “I mean, we're all a little bit gay, aren't we?"  I don’t see this as a coming out (many will continue clinging to an image of Harry that is mostly straight) but certainly chipping at his old image.  He will never have the freedom to deny all his old “relationships.”  Currently, however, he’s had the same (barely visible) “girlfriend” for over a year.  His image has already changed a lot, it’s just hard to notice from up close sometimes.  (When you haven’t seen a small child for a few months, it’s surprising how much they’ve grown.  The parents - those who see the child every day, don’t notice it so easily.)  

Great album, great performer, great human being.  I can’t ask any more of him, except maybe another album - and tour, please!