#this ending just hands me so many emotions on a silver platter!!!!!

[sir-dahlia]

one last dance before we end everything and begin something

here's the version without shadows because i couldn't decide which version was better lmao. anyways. these two make me insane

[tetragonia]

A Wave of Feelings

Rafe Cameron x F!Pogue!Reader

Blurb: Rafe and (Y/N) got into an argument for God knows how many times, about literally anything when they breath the same air, ranging from a small accident to a heated one about their cultural beliefs. But something in the air was different this time. Or was it only in the air? Not something in their heart and mind when the two of you finally realize something big that could change your lives?

Note: I have always wanted to write an angst especially for this character and it has occurred to me one day that arguing/miscommunication plot is kind of my fave trope so here we are lol.

Warning: angst, hurt/comfort, miscommunication, argument, bad writing lol English isn't my first language. also, soft!Rafe in the end!

Words: 1490

The sun hung low over the Outer Banks as Rafe Cameron and you found yourself embroiled in yet another heated argument. This was clearly not the first time you both got into an argument. Some of them were heavy like that one time when your best friend asked you to go to the party just to talk to Rafe (which she did) but then he dumped her after the party and she cried for weeks on your shoulder, or some Kook-owned properties that limited your access, or some insulting banter between Rafe and your friends (that got you realized how much he hated JJ).

But most of the time it was just about silly things: when he knocked up your beer accidentally, when you sailed in front of him and accidentally splashed some water (it didn't even make his already oily hair wet), or when you were napping in a near beach and he claimed that it was his territory (he was in the Cut area, for God's sake!). You two always found a way to argue.

This time, your voices clashed like crashing waves, echoing off the walls of the old shipwreck where you had sought refuge.

"You're impossible, Rafe! Always acting like you own this place, roaming around thinking that you're so much better than us Pogues," you exclaimed, your voice tinged with frustration. Pogues always owned this place, not some rich snobby kids like him, you thought.

Rafe's jaw clenched, his temper flaring and pride wounded. He hissed, "Maybe if you Pogues have some ambitions, you wouldn't be stuck in the same place your whole life!"

Oh, this was definitely one of those heavy arguments.

Your fists clenched at your sides as took a step forward. Your voice trembling with emotion. "You have no idea what it's like to struggle, Rafe. You've always had everything handed to you on a silver platter."

For a moment, you needed to convince yourself that you saw Rafe's gaze softened. You wanted to believe that a flicker of remorse crossed his features before he quickly masked it with a defiant glare. "At least I don't have to scrape by just to survive. Maybe if you Pogues worked harder, you'd actually amount to something."

His words struck deep, a painful reminder of the challenges you and your community faced every day. You recoiled as if struck by a lightning, your eyes stinging with unshed tears and your face was red, "You don't know anything about me, Rafe. You don't know what I've been through."

Your argument drew the attention of Sarah who was nearby with John. She was one of your best friends and you felt nothing but pity every time you realized that she shared the same blood with Rafe. With a furrowed brow, she stepped between you two, her hands raised in a gesture of peace trying to calm you down.

"Hey, what's going on here? Can't you two go five minutes without arguing?" Sarah pleaded, her voice filled with concern and annoyance. She must be tired with all these arguments, you thought. But those were all about Rafe's incapability to control his temper! And that might or might not be your issue as well...

Rafe shot you a scorching glare before turning his attention to Sarah. "Stay out of this, Sarah. This doesn't concern you."

Your eyes flashed with defiance as you stepped forward beside Sarah. "You're the one who concerns everyone with your existence!"

"What did you say to her, Rafe?!" Sarah looked at you with a concern. You were one of her strongest friends and she rarely saw you tremble like this. "Come on, talk it out like an adult, will ya!"

Rafe's fists clenched at his sides, his frustration boiling over. "Talk? What's there to talk about? I said, stay out of this, Sarah."

His gaze turned to you, "You think you know everything, (Y/N). Being the weaker one of the community, blaming us for having some money. If you said that I don't know anything about you, then you also don't know anything about me!"

His words cut like a blade across your pain. Your expression softened, a hint of hurt flickering in your eyes and you were not sure whether Rafe realize that or not. "Let's just cut it out. You would never understand what I've been through. What we have been through. Let's go, Sarah. Let's get out of here."

Sarah watched the exchange with growing concern, her heart aching for her brother and her best friend. She knew there was something deeper at play here, something that neither of them wanted to admit.

"Come on, you two. Let's take a step back and calm down, especially you, Rafe," Sarah suggested, her voice gentle yet firm. She glared at his brother. His face was as red as you, his forehead frowned deep.

You and Rafe exchanged a wary glance before reluctantly exhaled a deep breath. As much as you hate him, as much as you didn't want to admit, you really want him to apologize. The tension in the air began to dissipate, replaced by a palpable sense of unease.

Sarah sighed, running a hand through her hair as she tried to find the right words. "Look, I know things have been tense lately, but I really can't bear another sight of you guys bicker over things. If you still want to do that, please not where I can see you. I need you two to be in your best behavior when I'm around. Especially with you, Rafe. I have enough of you already."

Rafe's gaze softened as he looked at his sister, a pang of guilt tugging at his heart. "You're right, Sarah. I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier."

Sarah still held her concern, but she relieved to see them finally finding common ground. "It's okay. Now I'll leave it up to you. I can't mom you around like this, geez."

She walked away from you both. She lived long enough with both you and Rafe and there was no way she did not realized that beneath the surface, there was a different kind of tension simmered—a tension born from unspoken feelings and unacknowledged desires.

You stood still, refused to meet his gaze. The wind blew your hair as the sun began to set. You started to feel the chill and instinctively hug your own body, fixing your shirt together. You accidently drew a sharp breath when a cold wind sent chills down your spine. You sniffed and looked over the horizon. Refusing to take even the tiniest glance at him, you kept looking at the sea while stroking your upper arm.

Despite the heat of your argument, Rafe couldn't ignore the way the cold seemed to seep into your bones, making you appeared small and vulnerable against the vast expanse of the beach. His heart ached at this view.

You didn't see that he wanted to reach out, to wrap his arms around you and shield her from the biting wind; his hesitation to offer you warmth and comfort in the midst of your argument.

But his pride held him back, a barrier he had built long ago to protect himself from vulnerability and pain. Yet now, standing on the windswept beach with you before him, he couldn't ignore the truth any longer.

With a heavy sigh, Rafe took a step forward, his voice barely above a whisper as he spoke. "(Y/N), I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those things. I was out of line."

Your eyes widened in surprise at Rafe's apology, your anger momentarily forgotten as she regarded him with cautious curiosity. You had expected him to be stubborn, to be the usual Rafe: to dig in his heels and refuse to back down. But instead, here he was, standing before you with such humility you'd never seen before.

For a moment, the two of them stood in silence, the only sound the crashing of the waves against the shore. And then, slowly, hesitantly, you took a step forward, closing the distance between them.

"Rafe," you said softly, your voice barely audible above the wind. "Thank you."

And with that, Rafe's resolve crumbled completely. Ignoring the voice of doubt in his mind, he opened his arms and pulled you into a tight embrace, provided you with the warmth of his body against yours. He could feel the softness of your hair against his cheek and he kissed your head softly it almost gave you a heart attack.

So you were not hallucinating all this time. The glances, the gestures, the underlying concern for her.... He felt the same way, too.

In that moment, with the cold wind whipping around them, you knew that he had finally acknowledged his feelings for you. And as you stood together on the windswept beach, you both vowed to never let your pride stand in the way of your connection again.

[bibibbon]

A common trope in fanfics is that Izuku could become a Quirkless Hero via an Iron Man-type armor. But while it doesn't work at all for the ending, it works in fanfics. You know why? Because in those fanfics, HE MAKES THE ARMOR HIMSELF. It's not handed to him on a silver platter. He goes though many amounts of trial and error to continuously improve his suit, and is allowed to feel emotions and thoughts from his point of view. He's allowed to be spiteful, angry, sad, and conflicted. The fanfic "I Am Not Done" by JayDeeKay on AO3 is one that I HIGHLY RECOMMEND because it did all those things and more, depicting Izuku as a victim of both Bakugo (who crippled him) and Hero/Quirk Society for wanting to become a Hero, with many people from different angles coming at him because they fear that his attempts will rightfully shake up the status quo. Love that fic.

Iron Might in canon shouldn't have even worked in the first place because Horikoshi conveniently forgot that AFO has a Radio Waves Quirk that can disrupt all kinds of electronics. Why the fuck didn't AFO use that? As Deadpool would say:

Hi @patrickowens86 👋

Iam going to be honest but I love quirkless izuku and he honestly doesn't need to be OP just quirkless izuku who changes the definition of what it means to be a hero works really well in a story because like you said it's a journey that izuku must take. This journey allows Izuku to feel certain emotions, grow as a person, allows his beliefs to be challenged and changed by his experiences in society and it also focuses a lot on Izuku's intelligence which I love.

The reason iron Izuku doesn't work in the manga ending is because he never made the suit it was given to him. Izuku also never goes through the journey of trial and error the journey of challenging his beliefs and overall development it's just a little thing hori gave izuku so he can still be a hero.

There's also the depiction of canon iron Izuku or iron might as the suit being powerful enough to beat many villains but to be a hero you don't need to beat villains you need to SAVE people not BEAT them. Like I said izuku doesn't need to be powerful enough to go against villains like all for one or shigaraki but his intelligence and influence can change society and allow for him to connect with others.

Izuku becoming a quirkless hero is also one way that he breaks the status quo so there's that.

Going on a tangent here but one of the things I don't understand is the belief that izuku can't be a quirkless hero when heroes like wash (a flipping washing machine) can be a hero or someone like lunch rush is a hero. The term hero doesn't mean that someone needs to physically fight villains.

I don't like iron might. To me it hinders all mights own development of him learning to leave stuff to the younger generation and also learning and finding his own self worth outside of heroics and being able to fight or save others. Also I must say that I even forgot that all for one had a radio wave quirk and I suppose hori just ended up nerfing all for one because he made him too powerful in the first place for anyone to beat.

The link to the fic that you mentioned is here Iam not sure but I think I might of read it but I forgot so Iam definitely gonna read it anyways.

[daisynik7]

hruuuu! <3 for your y2k karaoke party,

"SOS" by Rhianna with getou suguru - smut+fluff?

ughh i love him so much tyyy

SOS

Pairing: vampire!Geto x f!reader

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.5k

cw: vampire au, fluff, smut – PIV sex (missionary), cunnilingus, fingering, cum-eating, dirty talk

Author’s Notes: Thank you for sending in this request @idkks4m! LOVE this song, a classic hit for the y2k karaoke party! Wanted to try my hand at something a little bit different from my usual; I’ve seen the idea of vampire!Geto floating around here before, and I think it’s brilliant! Here’s my take on it. Hope you enjoy! MDNI banner created by @/cafekitsune. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading!

It wasn’t supposed to go this far. 

That’s what you think as his fangs trail your neck, enough pressure to feel it scratch the surface, not enough to pierce the skin. His fingers glide down your arms, cold and lifeless, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your burning body. How have you never noticed the differences before? The pale complexion, the bleakness in his eyes, the tight smirk on his lips, posing as human. How he only visits the café you work at right before closing, ordering his typical coffee, black.

Just your presence and I second guess my sanity.

You did notice the oddities but ignored them. Because no matter how uneasy he makes you, how many red flags you see, your carnal desires overtake everything else. After all, you were the one to invite him to your own home after your shift ended. It didn’t even cross your mind that this was an unsafe, reckless decision. All you could think of was the thrill of being alone with this mysterious, sexy stranger.

I should have never let him in. 

You had a choice. He asked you the question, standing outside your front door, baring his pointed canines at you, a warning sign. “May I come in?” And all you had to do was say no. You’re not sure what possessed you in that moment. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was lust. Whatever it was, it made you say yes. And now, you’re absolutely terrified, undoubtedly nervous. Completely aroused.

Please someone help me. It’s not healthy for me to feel this.

His hands slide around your waist, pulling you in closer, lips joined together into a deep, passionate kiss. His tongue swirls around yours, and you can’t help yourself. You lick into his mouth, feeling for the tips of those fangs. The vibration from his voice as he chuckles sends a shiver down your spine. “You’re a curious one,” he says, eyes studying your face. “Aren’t you scared?”

You swallow hard, throat dense with saliva, shaking your head meekly, unable to get a word out. 

He laughs again, tipping your chin up with his finger to inspect you more thoroughly. “I’m not going to hurt you. Do you believe me?”

More confidently this time, you nod, managing a stuttering, “Yes.”

He swipes his tongue across his teeth, smiling. “Good girl.”

You lead him further inside, straight into your bedroom, common sense nonexistent at this point. There’s no reason for you to trust him; you know nothing about him. And yet, here you are, laid out and legs spread like a silver platter for him to feast on. Totally willing to submit to whatever he chooses to do with you. And for the first time since you met him a few weeks ago, there’s a flash of emotion in his eyes. 

It’s hunger. 

“Strip for me,” he demands, towering over you at the end of the bed, scanning your figure up and down. You obey, sliding out of your pants, hoisting off your shirt, leaving only your underwear on.

“Everything,” he growls, following suit. You marvel at his chiseled abs, salivating as he slides his sweatpants and boxers off, revealing his stiff cock sprung against his abdomen. Soon, you’re both completely naked, inspecting each other’s bare bodies, craving for a touch.

He smiles, more genuine than you’ve ever seen before. “You’re beautiful.” 

You gulp down the spit collecting on your tongue to respond, “So are you,” scooting up the bed to lean against the pillows. 

Crawling on top, he brushes your cheek with his thumb, whispering, “You’re going to be my little plaything tonight.”

You pull him down, kissing him sloppily, unable to contain your arousal any longer. He moans into your mouth, hands squeezing at your breasts, relishing the plump flesh between his cold fingers. He pinches your nipples, flicking over them with the pads of his thumbs, enjoying the way you whine at his touch. You reach for his cock, stroking it in your fist feverishly, impressed by the size. There are a million different questions running through your mind, but you save them for later, wanting nothing else except to be consumed by him. 

Not literally, of course. Though the possibility of that isn’t completely off the table just yet. And maybe that’s what makes this so exciting.

“Fuck me.” It slips from your lips, desperate and needy. Pussy aching to be filled with whatever he’s willing to offer you. 

“Not yet,” he breathes out, kissing you on the forehead. “I need to taste you first.” Suddenly, the fear returns, about ready to shove him off and run for your life. He laughs, scattering gentle kisses down your body, positioning his head between your thighs. “Not like that. Like this.” He flicks his tongue across your clit, slurping and sucking at your swelling bud until you’re bucking your hips against him, greedy for more. 

“Just as I thought,” he hums, spreading his tongue along your folds, collecting your slick. “You taste incredible.” He slips his middle finger inside you, curving at the tip to stimulate your G-spot. “Come for me. Give me your orgasm. Want to drink it up.”

You grip his hair between your fingers, climaxing on his face. He doesn’t let up, pressing himself deeper into your sopping cunt, slobbering all over you. When he pulls out, he sticks his cum coated finger into his mouth, sucking off your cum. Biting his lip, he wraps a fist around his shaft, tapping the tip on your sensitive clit. “You’re being such an obedient slut right now. Are you ready to take this cock?”

You’re in a daze, eyes half-lidded from your intense orgasm, still aching for him inside you. All you can do is nod dumbly, watching him guide his entire length inside you easily until he bottoms out.

“Fuck,” he grunts, nestling himself comfortably inside you. “You’re eating this dick up, aren’t you sweetheart?”

“Please,” you whine. “Give it to me.”

He chuckles, amused by your adorable reaction. “Okay, beautiful. Since you asked so nicely.” He grips your waist, holding you steady as he fucks you, hips thrusting wildly into your cunt. It’s even better than you imagined, his thick cock filling you up like nothing ever has before. He’s relentless, pace only increasing as your quiet moans become louder, your legs wrapping around him tighter. 

“This is what you want, huh? To be fucked like this.” His grip on you becomes firmer, nails digging into your flesh, imprinting on your skin. “You don’t even know me, and still, you let me in. What a stupid girl you are.”

You should be scared with the way he speaks to you, voice low and frigid, as if he can’t believe a human would be so foolish to let someone like him into their home, into their body. This is absolutely crazy, you admit it. But how can something that’s bad for you feel so fucking good?

Palms pressed to his cheeks, you pull his face close to yours, foreheads touching. “You said you wouldn’t hurt me,” you whisper to him. “I trust you.”

His eyes flash, seeming human for a split second. “Silly girl,” he mutters, kissing you on the lips. You stay like this until he unravels, spurting his seed inside you. Your legs are still coiled around him, holding him close to you as he comes down from his high.

“Wow,” he huffs, collapsing beside you. He’s pristine, like a marble sculpture, no trace of sweat or hint of blush on any inch of his body. You reach for him, tracing the outline of his lips, then his sharp jawline, noticing how cool he is against your fingertips.  

He smiles, letting you study him. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions for me.”

You do, and you’re tempted to ask all of them. However, in this moment, you’re not sure if you’re ready to know just yet. Instead, you ask the most vital one. A question that you should have known the answer to right from the start, human or not. “What’s your name?”

He laughs, nuzzling his nose to yours. “Geto. Suguru Geto.”

~~~

In the morning, he’s gone. You don’t expect him to stay, assuming what they say about vampires and daytime is true. Still, you’re saddened that he doesn’t. He never mentioned if he’d come in contact with you again. You assume he won’t, probably destined to move to another town where he can seduce a different woman, living in peace without his secret revealed.

So, it’s to your complete surprise when Geto does return later that night, smiling at you on your front doorstep, saying your name. “May I come in?”

[thrilling-oneway]

i need to stop writing random shit in the fact account drafts anyway i have so many thoughts about the singular chapter (the last one) of canaria that i read so now i'm gonna word vomit (onto the right blog this time!)

So YEAH hopeful ending holy shit but also I think it's gonna fall apart and that hurts. But! It's also the most realistic outcome and prsk is actually surprisingly realistic with how they write things in terms of like, plot and emotional stuff. Staying at PXL as WxS is what they would all like to do, because no one wants to leave their friends behind and go separate ways when you grow up. However, in terms of their dreams and ambitions, staying at PXL is only what Emu wants to do.

Emu wants to stay at PXL because of what it meant to her grandpa. She wants to make sure the park will continue to bring smiles to everyone for years to come because that was her grandpa's dream, and it's her dream.

Tsukasa wants to become a world-famous star, and then comes the question of can he still do that if he stays at PXL? And honestly, not realistically. Yes, the park has made a name for itself and the group did promotional tours around the country, but he's still just a performer at a theme park. Tsukasa is really interesting in this scenario because he's a very selfless character but he also manages to balance that with being selfish because sometimes that's what you have to do to achieve your dreams (Love Live reference). And it really comes down to would he settle for being a theme park performer over world fame?

Nene as well wants to be a musical star, and if the design of her fragment sekai is anything to go by, we're headed to broadway (i can't remember if this is ever mentioned anywhere someone please force me to stop skimreading everything). And again it comes down to would she sacrifice her dream of becoming a muscial theatre star in favour of staying with her friends.

It's also interesting from Rui's POV. I actually read curtain call the entire way through so here's more word vomit sorry. Rui has everything set up for him to leave PXL and WxS. It was handed to him on a silver platter and he even accepted it even though it's not what he wanted. Obviously Asahi sent him back to WxS, but he did say that he'll get in contact with him once they graduate high school and that the offer still stands.

And it's here where we reach that split between dreams and aspirations, because just on a surface level, Rui is the only one who falls heavier on the dream side of things. Rui aspires to be a director, but ultimately his dream is/was to have people accept him and have somewhere to belong. WxS gives him that and it's why he doesn't want to let it go. That said, WxS gave all four of them a place to belong, it's just that for Rui, that part is a lot more important to him than his actual aspirations, whereas it's more balanced with the other three.

With all that considered, I don't think whatever Rui's idea is (unless it's a real banger idea) is going to work out. They still have another school year to go (or 3 irl years), so there's time to try things out and see how they go, but in the end I just don't see it happening. It's a case of it just isn't how life works. All four of them have different dreams and aspirations which means naturally they are going to walk down different paths. It's not like Leo/need, MMJ or VBS where they all have the same goals and dreams and (for L/n in particular) they can and will reach these together.

That said, if they do disband and the devs don't just write them out if that happens, I could easily see the unit still functioning from a purely gameplay perspective. Just because they don't function as a unit doesn't mean that they aren't friends and don't have lives anymore. You could focus on what Rui and Tsukasa are doing in uni/work, and also Emu and Nene will still be in high school, so WxS could continue as a part time thing. For a bit. Maybe.

Anyway watch love live if you watch it you can handle anything this game could throw at the wxs story (lie it still hurts no matter how many times you watch the train station scene)

[lacomandante]

i’m screaming at a pitch only dogs can hear about getting to read sharpe’s command!!! what would you say are the best sharpe books with teresa bits for new readers?? corndog repeats himself a lot and i’m trying to avoid burnout on a ton of books that don’t contain the best woman in the history of fiction 💕

AHHHH!!!!! Teresa stans unite!!! I would LOVE to help you bc god knows I also scraped the bottom of barrel to find every Teresa related thing I could.

But I want to give a word of warning before delving into the books just for Teresa because I want to spare any disappointment. The Sharpe books, in my opinion, vary quite differently from the films, especially when it comes to Sharpe and Teresa. This is mostly referring to the books written before the films. There's also not that many books with her, so unfortunately there's little to pick and choose from. Compared to the films...definitely lower your expectations for the books.

Teresa's first introduction is in Gold. The backstory she's given in the film is actually happening and seen by Sharpe (the second attack anyways) in the book- and though Teresa's been a partisan, she spends a majority of the book...without spoilers, not doing many partisan things- though we get to see her fight for sure, she's definitely not an equal to Sharpe at this point, and is more of a prize, tbh, though that changes later on. (Some of the covers for the book in the 80's are uh....very different from how we see her in the films).

Teresa and Sharpe's relationship is different from how it is in the films too, though there is love there, the films really give us more time with the two of them, more time to develop emotions and complexity that there simply isn't in the book. Corndog isn't the best at writing romance, and it really shows in the early books. I think the films do a much better job of portraying Sharpe and Teresa as equals and actually have a believable romance, especially with Teresa being in Rifles and the events that happen there. She's already established as a leader and is very capable. Teresa and Sharpe have their first adventure in Gold, and then don't see each other for almost 17 months until Company, (book!Battle, written while the films were being made, mentions Teresa and Sharpe corresponding by letter during that time). It's why I really prefer the films for her and for their relationship, and like the books more for background information.

It's hard to put into words because yes, they're the same characters, but they're also not? I would say their relationship is a lot more loving/fleshed out, as is Teresa's character, in the films. I won't go into it too much here bc it'll be a whole big post lmao but Sharpe, I'd say, drinks more respect women juice in the films than the books (except barring the last half of Enemy which is extremely OOC for FILM Sharpe and I WILL die on that hill.)

But, barring that- there's really very few books she's in, so I'll start with the pre-film books (meaning they were written before the films were made). Gold for obvious reasons, but I really like Company, despite her not being in it so much- it's just a great book in general, and I love that we get to see their wedding! (and Antonia of course!!) Teresa make a very brief appearance at the end of Sword (literally the last two pages) that's a heartwarming moment. She makes a brief appearance in the middle and end of Enemy, the last book she's in chronologically.

However, I would say my absolute favorites for Teresa are in Sharpe's Skirmish and Sharpe's Command. Skirmish is set immediately after Sword, and is a short story, but has very sweet moments with her in it, though I would love to see her featured more. However, it's Command that REALLY steals the show. Everything I've ever wanted for Teresa in the books is handed on a silver platter (at least, to me) and is honestly going to be the closest we see to film Teresa in the books.

Without too many spoilers, we finally get to see Teresa be a partisan and fighting and being brutal and cutthroat. She gets some incredible show stopping scenes that would usually be reserved for Sharpe, and it really felt like a love letter to her from Cornwell. She gets to help move the plot forward, and not just be in the background. We get to see different sides of her, sides that differ from Sharpe and how they clash (in a good way!) Since it's set two weeks after Company, we get to see Teresa and Sharpe be husband and wife and fight alongside each other. Skirmish and Command have the benefit of being written after the films, where their characters, I think, are written better and follow their film counterparts better. I've been trying not to be rude and post spoilers here because I know most people who follow me are Americans and won't get the book until April, but god. I just want to gush about Command so much!!

But a small warning about Command: it's somewhat unpolished for a Sharpe book. Corndog forgets a lot of details (he's admitted he doesn't read his prior works lol.) There are also some details he adds that make me squint but nothing major that I can't look past because I really, truly loved how much she got to do, and her portrayal in the book. She's vicious, she's bloodthirsty, she's combative, she's funny, she's loving, she's kind, she's angry and all these facets and more we get to see of her and ahh!!!!! Now I'm gonna go reread Command LOL.

[writethelifeyouwant]

Kinktober 2022 | Day 10/11/12 - A Twink And A John (Part 2)

Pairing: Dean x John Rating: 18+ Warnings: Daddycest, Dean’s age is unspecified, imagine whatever you want, crossdressing, forced feminisation, name calling, humiliation, Dean as bait, case fic, angst, Dean’s self-loathing, pining, not mutual, hero-worship, hint of touch starvation, implied oral sex, orgasm denial, cock worship, semi-public / public, plot twist Kinktober Prompt- (10) Forced Feminisation / (11) Orgasm Denial / (12) Humiliation WC: 1,132

Part 1

A/N: Written as part of @hoboal87 and @synmorite 's "Fool Us Twice" challenge! Posting in two parts to follow the challenge rules 😊

“What the hell was that?” Dean hisses in his father’s ear, pressed up on his tip-toes so John can hear his whisper over the music. To the casual observer, they must look like a couple trading flirtations. 

“I think he was right,” John turns his face to duck closer to Dean’s ear. The stubble on his chin skims over the curve of Dean’s neck, and the boy hopes desperately that John can’t feel how quickly his pulse has just shot through the roof. “I think I need to keep you on a much tighter leash, sweetheart.” 

“What the fuck?” Dean pulls back to look at John’s face, finding a heavy, lecherous expression that he’s seen plenty of times before. But never directed at him. No matter how many times he’s wished for it in the dark of an empty motel room; empty because John had gone home with somebody else. 

Whereas back at the motel, it seemed his father could barely stand to look at him, John is wholly focused on Dean now, his eyes wide and dark and hungry. 

“Dad?” Dean asks, and he’s surprised John hears him, the word had escaped his lips so breathlessly. 

“C’mon,” John smiles, sliding his arm from around Dean’s waist and lacing their hands together instead. Leading them away from the bar and towards the back of the building, Dean follows John like he’s in a trance, the crowds milling around them parting as easily as fog.

“Dad?” Dean tries again when they’re outside, in the abandoned, dirty alley they’d re-conned as a possible means of escape earlier that afternoon. 

John clicks his tongue, the sound smacking wetly off the surrounding bricks and damp tarmac, letting go of Dean’s hand to rest his shoulder casually against the wall, looking at Dean almost… pityingly. And that’s a look that Dean is more used to seeing directed his way, at least. Although there’s a different hue to the emotion in John’s eyes this time. 

“How ‘bout you try Daddy, Dean,” John suggests with a leering grin, and Dean feels his jaw practically smack the street below his feet. This can’t be happening. This can’t be real. John presses himself off the wall and is up against Dean, the edges of his leather jacket brushing over the fake tits protruding from the younger man’s chest. “I’ve seen the way you look at me,” John rumbles, his voice deep and seductive. Dean thinks he might be about to faint. “Don’t go coy on me now, baby girl,” he breathes, brushing the backs of his fingers up Dean’s arm, teasing the hairs into standing on end.

Dean feels a crushing weight settle on his chest. 

Of course. 

This feels a little more real now. 

He couldn’t believe that after all this time of lusting quietly after his own father – just about the worst thing he could ever imagine doing – Dean couldn’t fathom the idea of just being granted one of his greatest desires on a silver platter. But Dad doesn’t want him. Dad wants some pretty little girl – some version of Dean that’s done up, and soft, and tempting. Not the real him. Not the man John fashioned him into, who’s hard, and cocky, and never good enough in John’s eyes. 

It feels fitting, then, that the universe would take Dean’s wish and grant it in this twisted way that hammers home the fact that he will never be good enough for John. No matter how hard either of them try. And Dean, he’s weak–something else John finds occasion to scold him for at least once a week–he’s weak enough to not care how pathetic accepting John’s attention like this makes him. He wants, needs, so badly. He’ll take what he can get. 

Looking up at his father, willing the tears gathering in his eyes not to fall and smudge his eyeliner, Dean chokes back a whimper, sets his hands on John’s chest, beneath the lapels of the leather jacket that makes his dad look like an action hero to him, and he breathes the word ‘Daddy’. Testing it out. 

John’s smile is bright the way it is when Sam brings home a good report card. 

“That’s right baby girl.” John’s hand slides up Dean’s arm and settles on his collar bone, the pad of his thumb sitting in the hollow of his throat. Present. Heavy. It moves when Dean swallows, then settles again. “Daddy’s gotta remind you who holds that leash a’yours.” He presses down, Dean sinks to his knees, the bare skin pressing into the blacktop, sucking in the loose pebbles of tar, blackening his skin. His soul. He’ll never sink lower than this, he’s sure of that. 

“You’re not going to cum tonight,” John says, brushing a thumb tenderly over Dean’s cheek, dragging it to his lips and tugging them open. “Maybe I’ll let you, when I think you’ve learned your lesson about who you belong to. But you have to prove it to me first. You have to prove who you worship.” 

Dean nods, his dad’s thumb against the ridge of his bottom row of teeth. 

“Tell me who you worship, sweetheart. Who does your heart belong to? Your body?” 

“You, Daddy.” Dean’s tongue tastes the salt of John’s thumb when he answers. 

“Good girl,” John smiles, his other hand moving to the waistband of his jeans. 

John is walking around the bar steadily, but his heart is beating frantically against his ribs. He can’t see Dean anywhere. 

Last he’d checked, the kid had been at the bar, dropping silver in the drinks and clearing anyone who came up to talk to him. John had caught the look of someone suspicious, eyeing Dean but keeping his distance, and he’d tailed him for a few minutes. It became clear though that he wasn’t specifically interested in Dean, he was just after an easy target. When John saw him fiddling with a small plastic bag that kept disappearing and reappearing from his jeans pocket, he’d glanced up to check on Dean, seen he was fine–talking to some bear that didn’t look too threatening–and John had gone up front to tip off a bouncer about the creeper with the roofies. It hadn’t been that long of a conversation, but when John got back, Dean wasn’t at the bar anymore. Checking his phone, Dean hadn’t sent him their signal word to say ‘monster found’, and he hadn’t sent an SOS either. Hoping he’d just gone to the bathroom, John circled the room once more, keeping his eyes peeled. 

But no. No Dean, not anywhere he could see. Damn hero, where the fuck did he go? If John finds out Dean went off with the monster alone to try to get the drop on him, he’s gonna have the kid’s head.

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[thetraingotsetonfireonmidnight]

𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔎𝔦𝔰𝔰 𝔦𝔰 𝔅𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔱

GN!reader x Adrien Agreste

Chat noir wants to move on.

 

He was told to switch targets.

 

He switched targets a little too fast.

Or

You kiss Adrien one night, but his heart isn't really in it.

      

Get over Adrien Agreste.

 

      That had been your one goal during their school trip to New York. You had to get over him.

 

      Your feelings for him were unexpected, and oh did they hit you like a train. It was strange really, how months back you had no interest in the boy, and now you dreamed of him.

 

      No matter the reason, your heart thumped around him and you wanted it to stop. The thought, the possibility, the insecurity that Adrien would reject you ate at you. It wasn't a risk you weren't ready to take. So during the trip, you had tried to force yourself to see him as just a friend.

 

     Just a friend.

 

     But friends don't kiss each other while they're floating in the sky, do they?

 

     Maybe it was the magical hot dogs, or maybe you both were on an emotional high because you were floating in the air, but there was this atmosphere that the two of you melted into. 

 

     The soft music playing, your height above everyone else giving you the illusion of isolation, the moonlight igniting your figures, it was beautiful.

 

     There were many factors that could have played into it, many different ways you could paint the picture, but the subject stayed the same.

 

     The dance wasn't a platonic one, even you knew that friends didn't hold each other the way he was holding you. His arms were completely wrapped around your waist, his head snuggly fit into your neck. Your arms rested around his neck, your head resting on his shoulder. There was barely any space between you. 

 

    You wanted to play this off in your head, that maybe Adrien was just cold, but you couldn't lie to yourself. You knew deep inside that wasn't the case.

 

     During your mid-air slow dance, Adrien leaned back slightly, his lips inches away from your cheek.

 

     "Thanks again for convincing my father to let me come. You're amazing."

 

      His words brushed against your ear, your head slightly turning to make eye contact with him. His smile was warm and inviting, his eyes completely focused on you, and in that moment, your heart flipped. His lips were close, so close. All you had to do was lean in more.

 

     Your voice was barely above a whisper as you tried to snap out of your breathless state, "You don't need to thank me again Adrien. It was nothing."  Your eyes kept glancing at his lips despite your best efforts. This would've been so much easier if he wasn't so close, but nooo, Adrien just had to be a gentleman and ask you to dance with the cutest smile you've ever seen. This model boy was going to be the end of you one of these days.

 

     "But still," 

 

      Oh, the lips were moving now—

 

      "It truly means a lot to me. I'm lucky to have you." 

 

     You.

 

     This whole trip, Adrien had said something along the lines of that, but it had always been, "I'm glad to have a friend like you," or, "I wouldn't mind being here with a friend like you." He always snuck in the friend part.

 

    But he hadn't friendzoned you this time.

 

    Were you wrong to think he thought of you as something more? 

 

    He was the one who asked you to dance. 

 

    He was the one who grabbed you by the hand and brought you closer.

 

   And now he was merely centimeters away from your face, praising you as if you deserved the world on a silver platter. 

 

   Looking at you as if you were the only person that mattered. 

 

   Holding you as if you were something worth protecting. 

 

    Were you a fool to think he felt the same way? That maybe, just maybe, this was something more than what you had originally thought?

 

     A rush of confidence ran through you, and you leaned in a little, creating enough space to let Adrien know that if he wanted to back away, he could. But he hadn't backed away, he had leaned in as well.  

 

      And just like that, you were kissing. You were inexperienced, and you prayed he wouldn't notice as you melted your lips against his. Your heart was rushing and your face was on fire. 

 

     The kiss hadn't been that long, it ended in a few seconds. It had been more of a peck honestly, but it was enough to send you into a frenzy. 

 

     Though, you couldn't help but notice the lack of enthusiasm. 

 

     It didn't feel like he kissed back. He more so awkwardly let you press your lips against his. You opened your eyes, worried that you had made him uncomfortable.

 

     His expression was unexplainable, you couldn't get a read on what he was feeling. Before you could ask, however, Adrien dug his face into your shoulder and held you tighter. Taking that as a sign that he didn't want to talk about it, you rested your head on his shoulder and let your bodies naturally twirl in the moonlight. 

 

    You wanted to let yourself enjoy the moment, to go fall back onto cloud nine like you had moments before, but the kiss that you had dreamed of for so long had now filled you with dread. 

 

     You hadn't read the signs wrong, had you?

 

 

~*~

 

         "I didn't make you uncomfortable, did I?"

 

      The kiss had happened the previous night. You both had gone back to your rooms without saying a word. Your friends had been extremely confused, but you didn't know how to explain what happened if you yourself didn't really know. The build up to the kiss had been more heart racing than the actual kiss itself.

 

     Your teachers had a busy schedule. It was full of tours and mini lessons, so it had taken them a while for you to get Adrien alone. 

 

    Eventually, the teachers had decided to give the students a lunch break, so now you and Adrien were currently sitting on a bench in a park. Adrien asked you to eat lunch with him, and you obliged. 

 

    You anxiously stirred your straw, watching it clink against the ice in your cup. You didn't dare look at Adrien's face, worried about how he might look at you.

 

     "...no." He hesitated. You heard him let out a small sigh. His answer hadn't made you feel any better. You felt your fingers tremble around the straw. 

 

     "Did...did you not like it?" You finally forced yourself to look over at Adrien. His eyes were glued to his shoes, his lips pulled to a tight frown.

 

      "I'm just...confused." he rubbed the back of his neck, a common nervous habit of his, you noticed.

 

      You took in a deep breath before letting it out. You had nothing to lose at this point, you might as well confess, "Adrien, I like you. Not the way a friend would. I'm sure you might've guessed that," you laughed awkwardly, "and I do want to be more than just friends, but if you don't want that, I completely understand." It wasn't as romantic as you would've wanted, but truthfully, the situation was uncomfortable and you didn't want to stall. You just wanted Adrien to say anything about how he felt. Even if he said he absolutely hated the kiss and just wanted to be friends, the answer by itself would put you at ease. 

 

     Finally, Adrien responded, "You're a great person. You're pretty, you're smart, and you're one of the sweetest people I've ever met. I...wouldn't mind giving this a shot."

 

    …

 

     "...But…?"

 

     "But what?"

 

      You frowned, "Adrien, you don't sound too happy about this." Adrien's cheeks grew red. His hands fidgeted as he looked at anything and anyone but you,

 

     "There's this girl…"

 

      Just like that, your heart swelled with pain. "A girl?"

 

      Adrien nodded, "I love her but she doesn't feel the same way. Kagami told me I should switch targets so...maybe this is what I need." He looked up at you, his eyes filled with hope.

 

     Your face fell, your heart still bitter at his words, "So you want me to be your rebound?"

 

     Adrien put his hands up defensively, "Nonono, nothing like that! I do genuinely like you! I think this could work out. I just thought it'd only be fair if you knew…" he gave you his best smile, "I'll get over her." He assured you.

 

     This whole situation was a giant red flag. Even if Adrien said you weren't his rebound, it sure sounded like it…

 

     ...but he did sound genuine when he said he wanted to give this a shot.

 

     This whole trip, he had been somewhat flirting with you, you could tell. And he had leaned in that night to kiss you so…

 

     Were you really a rebound if Adrien genuinely had feelings for you?

 

     You didn't know what to think of it, "I don't know, Adrien. It doesn't sound like you really want this. Please don't feel like you have to give this a shot because I want this. I don't mind being friends."

 

     "No, I'm ok with it. Honestly." Adrien grabbed your hand gently, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. Despite the smile he was giving you, you weren't convinced.

 

     "How about we try a date and see where it goes?" 

 

     Adrien nodded, bringing your hand up to kiss the back of it. You blushed in response, 

 

     maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

[funny-bunny224]

Sorrow, Love, and Everything In Between - Chapter 2

Summary: After (Y/N) has a rough break-up with her yearlong boyfriend, Ryan, Billy is there to pick up the pieces. 

“Care to explain to me why the hell you are by yourself, walking by the road in the middle of the night?”

You flinched softly at his question, but you aren’t sure why because you knew it was coming. Sighing, you slowly turned to meet his gaze, though it was too intense, swimming with so much concern and curiosity that you almost wished you hadn’t. Though it was always like that with him, he had the most intoxicatingly emotional eyes, they always filled the void of expressing his feelings when his words fell short.

 “Haha, it’s a real funny story, that one…”

 You nervously laughed, trying to rack your brain for any white lie you could come up with to cover your ass, wanting so badly for Billy to not make it his problem and do something he couldn’t take back. With him already staying in constant trouble with his shitty, abusive father, and not to mention the many petty charges pressed against him already, you were terrified for him to get there and hand Ryan’s ass to him on a not so silver platter. What if someone calls the police and he gets in major trouble? You just couldn’t stand to be the reason he either ends up in jail, gets beaten up by his father, or, the most likely outcome, both. Even with that knowledge, though, you knew he was too good at reading your emotions and could always tell when you weren’t being truthful or when you were holding out on him. Fuck.

 While lost in your spiral of overthinking, you were pulled from it in one swift motion as Billy had tucked his fingers below your chin and lifted your head up, taking the time to better inspect your face. The glassy film shining on both of your pretty eyes and the puffiness of your reddened cheeks couldn’t be ignored by him. Taking the last drag from the cigarette in his opposite hand, he twisted slightly to flick it out his window, before turning his head and exhaling the smoke towards the backseat so it wouldn’t blow towards your face. Not that you would have really minded, though, finding yourself uncharacteristically craving a cigarette right about now. Using his thumb, he wiped gently at a small, black-tinted tear streak near your jaw that you must’ve missed earlier, eyebrows raising as an all too familiar look passed over his face.

 “I doubt funny is the word for it. And have you been crying? (Y/N) just what the hell happened?”

 You could hear the anger laced in his voice as he spoke, knowing that whatever had you crossing paths on the road at night certainly hadn’t been good. Wait, weren’t you supposed to be riding to the party with your not-good-enough-for-you boyfriend, Ryan, that Billy didn’t hesitate to let you know he hated? And shouldn’t he have been the one taking you home, too? The gears in his head were churning as the realization dawned on him, that familiar ignition of anger sparking in his stomach like a metal chain would when quickly drug against the ground. Even with just the bare minimum of information he gathered within a few seconds, you could already see it swimming in his eyes. He was piecing it together on his own. Not the full story, of course, but just enough to know that it had something to do with your douchebag boyfriend, and for Billy, that was enough to awaken the Behemoth. Well, no point in lying, then, you supposed.

 “Can you please just promise me you won’t get mad and overreact? I really, really need you to promise me.”

 Although you felt stupid asking him that, because you both knew all too well that he wasn’t the greatest at controlling his own emotions, you still felt like you needed to. He had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at you, your words reminding him of something a kid would say in an attempt to placate their mom before telling them what they did wrong. Regardless of how childish it felt, he could tell it was what you needed to hear from him, a comfort to you before you would explain what happened. Nodding his head, he dropped the fingers underneath your chin and opted to use that hand to rummage his pocket for his half-empty pack of Marlboro Red cigarettes and his accompanying lighter. Although he had just finished a cigarette mere moments ago, he knew he would need something to occupy him, distract him from the boiling pot of rage he was certain would be brewing within him very soon.

 You graciously accepted his wordless agreement, bringing a slightly shaky hand up to brush a few strands of your hair from your face, tucking them loosely behind your ear, your dangling earring swaying softly with the movement. A deep sigh leaving your lips.

 “S-So I broke up with Ryan at the party. I caught him with that girl I told you about that would always flirt with him.”

 You started, mind replaying the all too vivid memories of walking in on him with her, before slamming the door shut and hearing him chase after you as you ran down the stairs, pushing through throngs of people to get out of the house party that felt like it was suddenly closing in on you with every passing second. Billy silently listened, soaking in every word you spoke like a sponge, taking deep drags and finishing his cigarette quicky as he sat near breathlessly still in his seat, resembling a statue while he wielded himself to keep calm. A very harrowing task.

 You told him everything, not sparing any details as tears weld up yet again for what felt like the tenth time tonight as you finished your recount of a rather shitty break-up. At the sight of you tearing up, Billy was quick to lean across the car’s console and pull you into a hug, running one hand comfortingly up and down your back, the other petting the back of your head as you sobbed quietly into his shoulder. Even though you were making a mess of his white shirt with your smearing makeup and tear stains, he couldn’t give a damn. His soft, gentle touches greatly contrasted the swarm of vibrant, vicious red he was seeing and feeling, his ears ringing as his anger was bubbling up into his chest, sitting heavy on him as if it were a slew of elephants.

 Slowly, you brought your arms up to wrap around him, hugging him closely as you let all your anger, hurt, and stress from the terrible night into his shoulder. He was warm, his body like a furnace as it worked to heat up your skin that was still rather chilled from your time outside. You were content like this, being able to vent out all your difficult and troublesome feelings, which was doing wonders to calm you. Although you were still incredibly hurt, of course, just having Billy here made you feel so much better. He tended to have that soothing effect on you, having gotten so good at being a strong shoulder to cry on after years and years of enduring what all he goes through at home.

 After a few moments longer, you finally gave a quiet sigh, your tears having stopped and your breathing a lot less erratic. Lifting your head, your eyes met with Billy’s, and you gave him a kind, appreciative smile, getting one in return. He removed his hand from petting your hair and used it to brush his thumb along one cheek, then the other, softly wiping away any of your remaining tears. You closed your eyes and leaned in to his touch, enjoying the warmth his palm provided. Billy watched you with a glint in his eyes, before you eventually began to pull yourself out of his grasp. He was hesitant to let you go, but did and allowed you to fall back into the comforts of his leather seat.

 “Feeling better, princess?”

 He inquired, using that cheesy nickname he had for you as his eyes studied you. It had originally been something he would call you to take the piss, but now it was just what he always called you, any teasing intentions behind it having long dissipated. You nodded your head, “I am now. Thanks, Billy.”.

 Although you had settled down, Billy had yet to, as you could practically feel the burning, white-hot anger rolling off of his body in waves. A tinge of anxiety began to bloom in your stomach as you reached your hand out to grab his, holding it tightly as you locked eyes with him. He appreciated your touch, comforted by your soft squeezing of his hand. He wanted nothing more than to high-tail it to that damn party and beat the fucking breaks off of Ryan. Billy always knew that the kid would do something like this to you, but kept it to himself and just let it brew at the back of his mind, knowing that you really liked Ryan and that it wasn’t his place or relationship to be intervening in. Now, with everything coming undone at the seams and the jackoff proving him right, he wished he had done more. He hated seeing you so upset and fucked over by somebody who didn’t deserve you in the first place, and although he didn’t cause your sadness, he couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for letting it happen. Not that there was much he could do, anyways. Billy had to grab ahold of his knee with the hand that wasn’t in yours, squeezing the rough material of his denim tightly to ground himself, closing his eyes as he tried to take in a few deep breaths, though it didn’t do much to help.

 “Hey, Billy. It’s fine, really. I’m fine, so I don’t want you getting upset, okay?”

 You softly spoke, hoping you could successfully attempt a little damage control, though from the looks of it, he was too far into his own mind to even register the words leaving your lips. His chest was puffing, brain hazed with the pleasant thoughts of leaving Ryan busted and bloodied, hanging on to life from a thin little thread. Shaking his head from side to side, he tried to clear his mind of those thoughts. Regardless of how badly he wanted to, and how easy it would be for him to, he wouldn’t. Even though the fool deserved it twenty times over, and then some, he wouldn’t hurt him because you didn’t want him to. Fuck, holding himself back was hard. Taming the relentless beast that was known as anger was a difficult task for anyone, but for Billy, someone who tamed it through impulsive actions, it was a lot harder. He was trying, though. For you.

  Finally opening his eyes, he lolled his head to the side, pressing his cheek against the headrest, a few of his dirty blond ringlets sliding across his forehead with the movement, eyes training in on you. You gave him a conflicted smile, giving his hand one more good squeeze before letting it go. He brought it up to drag his palm down his face, cupping around his chin as he heavily sighed. As he parted his lips, just about to speak, the loud, annoyingly continuous blaring of a car horn suddenly invaded the dead-silence of the night.

 ‘HONK’ ‘HONK’ ‘HONK’ ‘HONK’

 Both of your heads jerked to face the rear window, studying the vehicle that you both had been completely unaware was behind Billy’s car, being met with their headlights, which they then flashed from high beam to low beam a few times to catch your attention. Though the horn had done a well enough job of accomplishing that task. How had you both missed the car rolling to a stop behind you?

 Billy cursed underneath his breath, shifting in his seat so that he could push down the small lever beneath his gearshift on the center console, his window rolling down completely. Throwing his arm out, the coolness of the night’s air instantly went to nipping at his skin as he flipped the unknown person in the car the bird, staring at the distressed guy behind you through the rearview mirror. “Drive around, you fuckin’ idiot! There’s literally nobody else on the goddamn road!”.

 You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as he hollered out the window, words barely cutting through as the horn continued to beep and beep like the only job the person pressing it had was to annoy the piss out of an already angry Billy. Just what was this asshole’s problem? It was one a.m. and sure, Billy had thrown his car in park in the middle of the lane and you guys had been sitting there for a few minutes, but this was one of the deadest little backroads in Hawkins. Nobody else was driving on the opposite lane, all they had to do was whip their car around Billy’s and be on their merry little way. Didn’t look like that was in their itinerary, though. No, in fact it seemed that they were just going out of their way to deliberately try and be as much of a nuisance as possible.

 “I don’t think they’re going to stop until you move.”

 You spoke through a fit of laughter, pointing out the obvious as Billy’s frustration reached a new level, not even slightly amused as the person in the car didn’t even realize how close Billy was to stomping his leather boots to their car, dragging them out through their window and laying their ass out on the road. His hand already twitching as it got closer to grabbing a hold of his door’s handle. Realizing what he was thinking, as with Billy his intentions were never hard to guess, you quickly cleared your throat loudly, bringing his attention to you for a second.

 “Hey, don’t let that asshole get to you. Let’s just drive, okay? I have to be home soon anyways.”

 After a heavy sigh left his lips, he nodded his head, relief flooding you as his hand moved away from the handle of the door. You would have been upset if he had narrowly avoided getting in trouble over Ryan, just to end up getting the law called on him anyways over some random punk who was just pushing all Billy’s buttons at the very wrong time. Not that there was really ever a good time to test Billy. Resting a hand on his gearshift, he stomped his boot onto the break and switched it to drive, not even giving you time to prepare before he quickly whipped the car around in a nauseatingly fast 180, one of your hands reaching out to grasp Billy’s forearm in an attempt to steady yourself, the other bracing against the dash. Coming to a stop, now on the opposite lane and facing the car that was behind you, you were fast to slip your seatbelt on, happy the sound of the horn had finally ceased.

 Billy inched up so that his window was parallel with the other guy’s. Leaning forward to study the him, you noticed he looked to be in his late forties to fifties. Explains why he was being such an ass, as men that age in Hawkins always had a personal vendetta against teenagers, probably trying to relive the glory days when they ran the world. Not to mention Billy’s car was pretty infamous in this town, so it wouldn’t be too farfetched to say he probably knew who he was dealing with and had a grudge against him like most adults here did with Billy. They shared a heated glance before Billy flipped him off yet again, “Road’s clear now, shithead!”. Not wanting to stay any longer for the simple sake of the now red-faced man saying something back that made his self-restraint ween, he took his foot off the brake and booked it out of there. The back of your head flew to the leather headrest, hair whipping from the wind entering the car from his still-open window as he simultaneously skillfully and recklessly drove. You couldn’t help but laugh lightly, having gotten used to his crazy driving months ago and growing to enjoy it. It always made your stomach flutter with the rush of adrenaline as if you were riding on a rollercoaster. He gazed at you from his peripheral, a smirk gracing his lips.

 After a minute or two he slowed down a little, the car still ripping down the dark, desolate road but at a more reasonable speed. Well, reasonable for Billy, anyways. The trees and sparse houses passed by in a blur as he took turn after turn, eventually leading to him taking a right onto the familiar street that brought the two of you driving through your quiet neighborhood. Although you knew you had to be home before your curfew, you also didn’t really want to. You abhorred the thought of being alone right now with your thoughts, knowing that nobody else in your house would be up aside from your mom, who would then go to sleep after making sure you came home so she could get her rest in for work. Though you didn’t have much of a choice, as you had to beg your mom to let you go to that party in the first place, with a curfew being one of her conditions. She’d ground you for months and wouldn’t let you leave the house for anything aside from school, work, and to run errands if you were late. You couldn’t help but sardonically smile at how you knew one of her punishments for you being late would have been that you couldn’t see Ryan outside of school for a couple weeks. Well, that wouldn’t count as very much of a punishment now. Hell, you wished you wouldn’t have to see him at school either.

 You sighed as Billy pulled at the edge of your driveway, putting his car in park as you slowly moved to hook a hand around the seatbelt strapped across your chest. Your hand fell on the buckle beside your hip, though you just let it sit there for a moment, not quite ready to get out just yet. Billy turned to glance at you, watching you stare at your house with a troubled look. A look he hated to see on your face.

 “Are you sure you don’t want to just ride around town for a little while or something?”

 You looked to Billy, shooting him a sad smile at his, as always, perfect reading of your emotions. You shook your head from side to side, “I want to, but I can’t. My mom is waiting on me and you know how she is.” Although you really, really wished you could have taken him up on that offer, you had to be in your house in a couple minutes. You didn’t think you could withstand the wrath of your angry mom on top of everything else that happened tonight.

 He nodded his head, looking just about as disappointed about you having to turn down his offer as you were. After a moment, you finally moved to unbuckle your seatbelt, letting it recoil back into its slot by the seat, shifting to your side so that you could face Billy. You shot him a small smile, hands clasping together on your lap, the pads of your thumbs circling against one another.

 “Thank you for tonight, Billy. You’re my regular knight in shining armor.”

 Although it was corny, you really meant it. Lord only knows what would have happened if Billy didn’t come along when he did. He always had a habit of making his appearance when you needed him the most, and if tonight wasn’t the perfect time for one of his psychic arrivals, then you weren’t sure when would be. He shook his head, dismissing your comment with a roll of his eyes and a snort.

 “You don’t have to thank me. You know I’m always here for you.”

 You smiled at his words, grateful to have someone like Billy as your friend right now. Although he had his whole ‘bad boy’ reputation at school, and for the most part it rang true, he was always kind and soft with you. You weren’t sure why it was like that, but you felt special to get to experience this side of Billy none-the-less. Though you couldn’t help but feel bad for making him your Agony Aunt. Even though it was mutual, and he always confided in you about his issues at home, you still felt like the problems you faced were too stupid and insignificant to rant about to him when he had things so much worse with his dad. Although you knew he didn’t think of it like that, and assured you that your problems were valid, you couldn’t help but continue to feel that way.

 With a sigh, you shook the thought from your head, instead letting another one flood your mind as you moved to shift in your seat. You lifted your hand up and pulled down the sun visor, sliding the cover to the side so that you could look at yourself in the mirror. God, you were a hot mess. There was no way you could walk into your house looking like this, your mom would freak, and although you loved your mom very much and told her just about everything that happened in your life, this was a conversation you’d much rather have another day. With some embellished details, of course, because if she knew you were trying to walk home alone at night she would whoop your ass. Bringing your hand up to your face, you used your already ruined sleeve to wipe away at your smeared makeup, eyes ringed with the black from your eyeshadow and mascara. You looked like you belonged on the cover of a KISS album.

 “I’ll start picking you up for school now, okay?”

 Billy spoke after a moment, breaking the silence as his eyes study you rubbing at your face with the sleeve of your shirt and fixing your hair to make it look like you didn’t just get a five-hundred-pound bag of shitty luck dumped on you. You were confused for a moment, before a tinge of sadness suddenly pulled at your heart. That’s right, Ryan was the one that would pick you up for school and take you home afterwards. God, there were so many parts of your life that were filled with him, and it was going to be painful to have to adjust to life without him. Not to mention having to get used to the pain you would feel anytime he flooded your mind, too. Though you knew the ache would dull with time, it was still very raw right now. You shook your head, partly in response to Billy and also as a way to shake off the swell of emotions that had you wanting to tear up again.

 “You really don’t have to do that, Billy. If anything, I can just ask my sister to drop me off on her way to work.”

 Your voice was soft, nearly a whisper as you finished fixing your appearance, lifting the visor back up as you turned to peer at Billy through your eyelashes. He reached a hand out, and before you could even react, he had mussed your seconds ago freshly-tidied hair, the childish move eliciting a squeaky ‘Hey!’ from you as you went to readjust it yet again. He gave you a cocky smile, obviously happy with his actions. Annoying prick. Though you couldn’t deny the smile that pulled at your lips. You were happy for the quick shift in moods.

 “No, I want to. I’ll be here to get you at seven.”

 You shook your head, realizing that it wasn’t up for discussion and that Billy had already made up his mind. And what Billy wants, he gets. Not that you were upset with the outcome, in fact you were happy he cared so much for you to offer to do that, but you just didn’t want to feel like a burden to him. You were already feeling bad enough that he had to see you at a time like this. Though you really appreciated his kindness, heart swelling slightly. Bringing your hand up, you stroked at your chin as if it were a beard, seemingly in deep thought about his statement. Billy shook his head at you in response, grin tugging his lips.

 “Alright, I guess you win. Thank you.”

 And with that, you leaned over across the console, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek, his stubble tickling your skin slightly. He gave you a smirk, those pretty blue hues of his watching you as you shifted in your seat, heaving a heavy sigh as you slowly swung open the car door. You didn’t want to leave the comfort of his car, but you knew you had to, or else a bigger hell known as your mom awaited. Stepping out, you turned to poke your head back inside, giving him a wave, “Goodnight. Get home save, Billy.”. Shutting the car door behind you, you made your way to your front door, knocking a few times before being let in by your mother. Billy stayed, eyes watching your retreating form with a glint, making sure the door shut behind you and the downstairs lamp was cut off before he knocked his car in reverse and backed out of your driveway, thoughts of you clouding his mind the entire drive home.

 ___________________________________________________________

@boomhauer​ since you wanted a tag <3

[cqlfeels]

I'm losing my mind over Wei Wuxian's death in the novel. I mean his death in the drama is very clear, no question, but in the novel it's quite ambiguous, isn't it?

It is assumed that Wei Wuxian died by his ghost army turning against him after he destroyed the Stygian Amulet. But it's just a brief mentioning of how happend, and not from wei wuxian himself, and I think that was the assumption of the people, and we all know we can't trust of rumor in that world.

Then Lan Wangji in the donghua confirmed that he knew Wei Wuxian did not die from his ghost army. And Wei Wuxian avoids the question, like he doesn't want to tell him how he died, maybe because it's too sad.

I mean, yes, the destruction of the amulet was the cause of his death, I understand this, but it was a conscious choice or an accident? Wei Wuxian should know that if the amulet is gone, he would no longer be in control over the angry ghosts and they would rebel against him. So it was a deliberate death? The price to pay? He didn't want that dangerous amulet ended up in other hands.

I'm saying this because in the novel he also mentioned that they tried to summon his soul, but he did not respond. So he didn't want to return to the living. And after he was forcibly summoned, he also made a sarcastic comment that the living refused to let him “rest in peace”.

This makes me believe that he wanted to die and to stay dead even in the novel. But I'm open to other interpretations, since the description of his death is so short and assumed by other people.

Thank you to read my endless doubts!

Oh no anon I'm so sorry for having taken an embarrassing amount of time to get to this ask! But it was such a good ask that I wanted to give it some attention!

Okay so WWX's death in the novel fascinates me. "Wei Wuxian is dead" is both one of the first things we read and the incident without which the novel can't happen. It's at the core of everything, but we just... Don't know much about it. Which plays into the themes of the novel!! What can we know, anyway? WWX is an extremely unreliable narrator, so even if he did outright say in the narration "This is how I died" we wouldn't know for sure that's something we can trust. Would he be telling all the facts, or just those relevant to the scene at hand? Even if he was telling all the facts, how would his emotions about it impact the way he told us this, and how can we take that into account?

In reading MDZS I'm reminded often of Murder on the Orient Express by Agatha Christie? Basically, that book has a structure where each chapter features a different character being interrogated about the murder of the title. It's up to the reader to discern, among things the characters know and don't know, are trying to hide or to highlight, feel strongly or don't care about, what the true version of the events is. This being a mystery novel, of course by the end of the book we're handed on a silver platter the full explanation of the hows and the whys that is The Official Author Explanation™️ that is inherently trustworthy as per genre conventions.

The difference is that MDZS robs us of that. There are mysteries within mysteries in the novel, but MXTX deliberately withholds any sort of inherently trustworthy narrative, while repeatedly cautioning us to not say "I understand" or "I know" unless we're sure we have all the facts - and even then, that's a risky thing to do.

I suspect MXTX does have an idea of how most mysteries of her novel are solved (maybe even all), but tbh what I love is that she doesn't give us the satisfaction of knowing these answers. MDZS lacks many resolutions. They're not plot-holes, it's not that it's impossible to come up with theories explaining her whole plot - it's the opposite. It's so easy to come up with opposing theories, but it's pretty damn near impossible to categorically find a theory that you can prove beyond reasonable doubt.

So this - gathering what WWX says about his own death, what other people say about it, what is said about other deaths, what is not said at all - is just so much fun for me. There are a thousand puzzles small and big that you could play with in this story. I mean, suppose you get WWX's death right. You immediately run into the MXY problem: we have a main character who kickstarts the entire plot, but what do we know of him except for rumors? WWX bases his understanding of him on his journal, but do we know for sure MXY wasn't writing the journal for WWX? You'll end up walking in circles because good luck finding passages where you can assert "This is MXY" without fear of getting caught in the trap all characters do in this novel: to equal your own beliefs and suppositions to an objective truth.

All of this is to say that this ask makes me super happy! But I can't for my life tell you "Oh this is what is going on, this is what you've missed, this is the key to the central mystery" because the novel tries so very hard to make sure I don't do that, that I feel it's a waste of fun to get too attached to any one theory. I'm with you that I think WWX did want to die and did want to stay dead (though I'm not entirely sure on the exact mechanics - was it active or passive suicide, if it was a suicide indeed?), but like. I'm basing this on my understanding of WWX, and uh.... Ask LXC what a rock-solid foundation "I'm pretty sure I know this person" is for a theory! So yeah. I'll take my cue from NHS instead and just repeat I don't know I don't know I don't know.

[cheekygreenty]

His Queen - The Darkling x Reader

bitch, I think I outdid myself on this one. I'm shocked I wrote this

He hated the Tsar. He hated himself, but he didn't hate you. How could he of let this happen, he's never been a slave to his emotions. You were married, no, scratch that, you were the Queen for Saint's Sake. The Tsar had made it common knowledge that you didn't belong anywhere but the Grand Palace, in a glittering gown and a jeweled crown upon your always perfect hair sitting in front of a fire sipping on your tea. He wanted you nowhere near the action or actual Palace life. You were merely an accessory to him.

The young and innocent girl raised in nobility, who caught the old bastard's eye by fluttering your eyelashes at him, longing for his person.

Bullshit.

Aleksander could see your repulsion whenever you were in your husband's presence. The longing eyes as you looked at the doors, the shiver that rattled your spine as his sweaty hand gripped yours, or the increasing sadness in your eyes as the months went on. The jewels around your neck glistened, but your eyes didn't. Not anymore.

He had done some digging in the months following the wedding, and rest assured you didn't belong anywhere near the palace. You were scrappy, ready for a fight at all times. There were numerous accounts of you running around villages, fighting your way through pubs and inns. Your parents, the Duke and Duchess, were downright ashamed of you before your big day. You were itching to drop everything and join the First Army the second you had the chance. You were skilled in ways no noble was; you had street smarts.

Then the late Queen died and you were presented on a silver platter to the King, donning all the family jewels that never sit quite right. The King couldn't help himself, the public blamed the grief for his hasty marriage, 'he needed a companion.' But in reality, he saw what he could have and grasped you up the second he had the chance. And now you were stuck here, in a cage with no way out.

Aleksander didn't take a liking to you at the start. All he saw was what the King wanted him to see and for that, he feels tremendous guilt. He thought you to be proper and uptight and spoiled, so when you approached him the first time, franticly asking for advice about a simple state matter that was dropped into your lap by the General himself, he couldn't help but snigger at you and convey news of the stupid Queen to his fellow Grisha.

He didn't know the King treated you like a child or that all of this was new to you. I should've seen it he cursed himself, for the weeks to follow you were the talk of both the Palaces and news spread to camps on the front.

The stupid, young, ditsy girl who couldn't put together a luncheon for Ravka's war heroes was the Queen. Ridiculous.

He believed it too until he had seen you out one night when he couldn't sleep. You were deep in the forest, tending to your black stallion and in what looked like peasant clothing. You had mud on your boots and your hair was messily braided. There was a tatted punching bad tied up on a tree and another person sitting against a log, breathing heavily and clutching his side. Aleksander never made himself known, just blended into the darkness as he did best but continued to watch you eagerly. Only then did he faintly make out your bruised knuckles and the tears in your breeches.

'Again?'

'Saints Y/N no, I've got a way to go and the way you just bruised my ribs, I've a painful journey ahead of me' mused the sitting man.

That night, Aleksander sent out his best Grisha to collect information and asked Genya to tend to you, but you denied yet again (only after asking her to fix up your hands).

Ever since then, Aleksander has been observing you and getting to know you when he could, telling his Grisha it was to gather information since Genya was no longer garnering the Queen's secrets, but he felt drawn to you for whatever reason. You were the best part of his day; whether it was a simple smile sent his way or you rambling about the ways you avoid being followed around the palace, he listened intently and set the shared memories into his brain.

The General was a mystery to you. With his extremely handsome face and confident stances, he mesmerized you to the point of a blank mind. Whenever your eyes met his, it could be in a room of 60 people, rest assured you were right by his side in an instant. You had sought out his presence wherever you went and clung to it while you could.

But the King had made his opinion of the Darkling obvious, and his hatred ran deep. 'He likes to think he rides a horse above everyone else.' 'He's most unnatural.' You didn't care though. As long as he kept himself away from you and just used his words and not actions, you were fine.

You had gathered a particular kindness for late evening walks before bed, silently slipping onto the grounds of his palace, awaiting his companionship. It might have only been 40 minutes out of your day, but it was always better than not seeing him.

Ivan had pointed out that you had an air of hostility around you every time you were in a room with your husband and your heart tended to beat dangerously fast as if you were panicking. So Aleksander attempted to pull you away from him and distract you from the horrid man, and it seemed to work. He grew to like you and would miss your witty humor when he went back to the Little Palace.

Months had passed and he never grew sick of your presence, ironically he craved more of it. He tried to tell himself that you were just a part of his plan, nothing more, but things got even more complicated. He had accidentally mentioned seeing you that night in the forest, and instead of being hostile about it, you told him you enjoyed a fight or two and invited him to join you. That night, after multiple rounds of sparring and hard hits, he kissed you fervently. And again and again, until you both got past the point of going back.

You acknowledged the risk only after it happened and started to panic. You had an affair with the General of the Second Army. He seemed to be in the same state as you. But before you went your separate ways, he held you in his arms and promised it would all be ok. You believed him.

He got back to his chambers that night and his demeanor changed behind the closed doors. He was so mad. He always swore to take what the King loved most and destroy it before his very eyes, but this was a sick joke the Saints played on him. He needed to protect you, get you out of the Tsar's grip, and hide you away from any harm. There was nothing he wouldn't do to keep you out of danger's way and he knew it. Why did he let this happen? He knew that whatever your ending may be, you would get hurt, maybe not physically, but definitely emotionally.

You had told him of all the things the King did to you, how he treated you and paraded you around. You begged Aleksander to do something about it, to help you get out of that life and back to your old one, but there was nothing he could do and it broke his heart.

'I wish I could do something Y/N, I truly do, but I am not as powerful as you may think I am. The King is still the King' he had told you, guilt building in him.

He was sitting at his desk in his chambers now, looking out the window feeling fidgety. You were late for your evening walk, like really late. Sure it happened before, but Aleksander had a weird gut feeling that something happened. Maybe the King found out? or maybe you finally realized the magnitude of the situation and came to your senses?

He knew if the King whiffed out a sliver of what was going on with his wife and Aleksander, he would rain hellfire. He was a powerful man, the most powerful man in all of Ravka and there was nothing more dangerous than an embarrassed man's actions.

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud noise he hadn't heard in a very long time, followed by the very loud thuds of falling books. The tunnel?

'ALEKSANDER?' your panicked voice reached him and triggered something primal in him. fight or flight. He and his shadows shot up and ran to you but stopped dead in his tracks, the black matter disappearing in on itself. You stood at the entrance to the tunnel, visibly shaking with anger, but that's wasn't the cause of his shock.

'Saints Y/N' He whispered, realization flooding over him like a nasty wave of ice-cold water. Your once ivory white nightgown was drenched in crimson but you were uninjured, it wasn't yours. The huge green Lanstov emerald sitting atop your left hand was smeared in red too, giving it a brown tinge.

'I need to get out of here right now.' You sounded solid and stern, the panic was long gone. The scrappy fighter was back.

Aleksander had always known what to say. But now, he didn't have a single word come to his mind and his body refused to move, he was rendered speechless and useless. This is a nightmare, surely, he prayed.

'Y/N I-I, What happ-'

'Aleksander, unless you want to see my head on a pike by dawn, I suggest you help me' You said as you moved across the room, after closing the tunnel door firmly shut. How does she even know about these tunnels?

'I once heard a drunkard speak of tunnels beneath the palaces, I tried my luck' You said answering his question without even being asked,

Your hands moved quick, shedding yourself of the nightgown and holding it in your hands as you moved to grab his black robe off a chair. Aleksander still stood there, his head whirling with so many thoughts, it debilitated him. He needed her to say it.

'Y/N did you do what I think you did'

'You know I did'

At that moment the doors burst open to reveal Ivan with an alarmed look on his face and his hands raised, ready to jump into action, most likely alerted by the falling books. But he faltered when he saw you, The Queen, covered in blood and holding a bloody nightgown in the most secure room of the Little Palace.

'Great another witness' You huffed and dumped the gown into the fireplace.

'Moi soverenyi, what is the meaning of this?'

'Ivan I wish I could tell you.'

'I killed the King. I have approximately 3 hours before somebody notices him laying in his own blood with his neck slit open' You sighed and sat down, head in your hands. This was the first moment you'd had to process it all, and it was overwhelming, to say the least.

A silence enveloped the room as the fire roared back to life, already having burnt the evidence to a crisp. Aleksander finally came to his senses, moved and grabbed a bowl of water and a cloth.

'Did anybody see you leave?' He asked as he handed you the items to wash your hands of the sticky blood.

'No. I made sure of it. I traveled through the tunnels.'

'And the King? There is no weapon near him?' Ivan interrupted.

Slowly you bent down and pulled a small dagger out of your shoe. Small but sharp.

'Give that to me' Aleksander took it out of your hands and walked out of the room while you continued to scrub the crimson off your hands.

You momentarily looked at Ivan, he didn't look mad or upset. He looked like a soldier.

'Are you not mad your King is dead?' You mused.

'He was not my King'

'That makes two of us' You were done cleaning your hands and moved to clean the ring. Should I burn this too?

'Leave it on. If things go sideways, you can buy your freedom' Aleksander returned. 'Ivan go get 2 horses and pack essentials. Get Genya too. I trust you to keep quiet.'

'Yes Moi soverenyi, Moya tsaritsa' He bowed his head quickly and waltzed out the room.

'Aleksander I'm scared now.....what have I done' You whispered. He took hold of your hand and pulled you into him. He held you tight, not wanting to let go.

'It's going to be ok. I promise. There's a small cottage down south I want you to go to. Ivan will take you. You will be safe. I will right this. I will protect you as I should've done earlier.' He kissed you deeply, letting all of the emotions flow through without the need for words.

'And what then?' You whispered against his lips.

'You be you. Perhaps go to Ketterdam. I feel you belong there... or come back to me when the time is right' He kissed you again, it was sweet and sad. A goodbye kiss. 'I love you, and even though you don't like it, you are my Queen. Forever'

'I love you too' Your hands fisted at his beautiful black kefta as tears dripped off your face.

****

That night you fled, your hair and appearance completely changed. The peasant clothes you felt comfortable in were on your back while the heartrenderer galloped beside you. Os Alta was still asleep as you sped down south, praying to the Saints that leaving Aleksander to deal with your mess was the right decision. That he would be ok too.

Ravka was shaken by the news of their dead King and the missing Queen. Some say she was dead, kidnapped by Fjerdans, and slaughtered mercilessly, others said Kerch merchants had her thrown in the Fold as she refused to give up information.

Either way, Aleksander had made sure you weren't regarded as a murderer and kept his promise to give you a chance to return to the Little Palace, to him.

Also if u can see this fic plz interact with it!! Idk if my tumblr is fixed yet and I need to make sure!!! If u were tagged and it didn’t notify you like last time, plz tell me!!!! 💓💓

Taglist (tell me if u want to be added)

@theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @lostysworld @0-artemis @exo-1204 @staradorned @bookfrog242 @simp-for-ben-barners @keepdaydreamingbb @acciorudolphx

[eternalstargazer]

Back when episode 53 aired in Japan, a lot of people (on forums, YouTube, etc...) weren't happy with what they saw (Suicune being portrayed as weak, Goh capturing a legendary, and so on...), but for me, episode 53 is one of my favorite episodes of Pokémon Journeys because it's a really great episode for Goh's character and it also happens to have some standout Ash/Goh moments. With the dub episode having aired recently in some countries, now seems like as good of a time as any for me to give my thoughts on what makes this episode so memorable - at least for me! 🙂

Episodes that feature legendary Pokémon have the potential to be something special and this story surrounding Suicune doesn't disappoint. The stakes may not be as high as in some of the Pokémon movies involving legendaries, but that's fine - there isn't anything inherently wrong with stories that have a smaller scope. Not only do we get to see some of the lore surrounding Suicune explored, but we also get to see it in action, as well as how it cares for weaker, more vulnerable Pokémon, and how they, in turn, care for it.

Suicune is shown to be no more different than any other Pokémon. In the context of the anime, it's just another living, breathing creature with emotions. Yes, it's stronger than a lot of other Pokémon, but just because it's stronger and it's seen as a legendary doesn't mean it's an unstoppable force. I don't see its power having been purposely "nerfed" here by the Journeys writers just to give Goh an "easy catch" or handled in a manner to push a narrative that everything comes easy for Goh.

The episode establishes that the Pokémon hunters have been purposely polluting the lake for a period of time. Suicune having to repeatedly purify the lake (and remember, Suicune supposedly travels the world doing this, so we don't even know its energy level at the time the hunters are polluting this one lake), is going to weaken it. Goh points this out in dialogue, too. Suicune is already in a weakened state, but then it gets attacked by three different Pokémon and sustains multiple hits - and on top of that, is visibly poisoned. Legendary or not, if you're playing a Pokémon game and attack a Pokémon this much, its HP is going to drop, and inflicting a status condition - like poison - makes it easier to catch.

If Goh had just happened to stumble upon a seemingly healthy and strong Suicune and chucked a Poké Ball at it, capturing it without any resistance, then I could understand the arguments that Goh gets everything handed to him. That's not what happened though. Also, Goh is shown here to only catch Suicune as a means of saving it from the hunters. He wants to help it, and doesn't see any other option. He sees Suicune as a living creature that needs help, not just as another object for his collection or stepping stone toward his goal of capturing Mew.

A quick observation on character growth here - by the time events in this episode happen, Goh's attitude toward helping Pokémon had already changed, but just think how differently the Goh from episode 3 would've reacted here. Ash has had a very real impact on how Goh has grown as a character and that's one of the many reasons I love the pairing.

So Goh captures Suicune in a way and for reasons that I think makes sense and doesn't feel forced. It's obvious too that Suicune didn't "let" itself be captured willingly because later, when Goh trips and Suicune is accidentally released from the Poké Ball, it's visibly angry. The only reason the capture had been successful was because Suicune had been weakened sufficiently. Again, for all the complaints surrounding Goh capturing Pokémon without weakening them, everything that has happened here is in line with the core game mechanics. I'm sure plenty of players captured Suicune as far back as the Generation II games...

Moving on, as I said, this is a great episode for Goh's character. It reinforces how far he has come since episode 3, and now, much like Ash, he's not willing to just give up when things get tough. He won't abandoned Suicune, and it's his compassion and sincerity that wins over the forest Pokémon, and helps Suicune see that maybe, just maybe, he can be trusted. He sends out his Pokémon to keep a watchful eye on Suicune while he goes to collect berries - some of which are good for treating poison, and he has medicine on hand, all of which show just how knowledgeable and good at analyzing/being prepared for a situation he is. This isn't Goh being some Gary Stu type of character - these are established character traits that go back to episode 2.

Goh does all this because he wants to help and protect Suicune. Him doing this all the while not having any intention of keeping it, to me, is proof that Goh cares just as much about the wellbeing and happiness of Pokémon as any other character in the anime and when people try to frame him as being something else, I simply don't see that as being fair. When Suicune does make it clear to Goh - who is trying to release it at the end of the episode - that it wants to be his Pokémon, I feel it's because of everything Goh has done for Suicune. Suicune can see how pure Goh's heart and soul are and senses that he is genuinely a good person. This isn't handing Goh Suicune on a silver platter - Goh earned Suicune's trust. He cared for and healed Suicune and literally put himself in harms way to protect it. I don't at all see this as a cheap/ridiculous capture.

As I said (er... kinda awhile ago at this point...😅), this episode is not only a favorite of mine because of Suicune and Goh, but also because it really shows just how much Ash and Goh have come to trust/care about each other. Ash trusts Goh to take Suicune someplace safe (though Goh at first doesn't want to leave Ash behind). Goh worries about Ash's safety while running away. Later on, Ash yelling out Goh's name as he rushes to help him after the hunters overpower him. The two battling back to back (Goh's come a long way when it comes to battling, hasn't he? Some more character growth right there)... and then, this scene:

Goh chooses to push Ash out of the way, leaving himself and Cinderace open to Houndoom's attack. It's visible, imo, in how Goh's face is animated that he seemingly, for a split-second, thinks about what to do... and decides to go with trying to protect Ash over himself and/or Cinderace. It's obvious what conclusion I'm gonna draw since I love the pairing, but I do think it's interesting how this saga of the anime has shifted a bit more toward the human/human relationships. Here, I would've expected Goh to try and protect Cinderace over Ash, just like in this clip from episode 72, I would've expected Ash to call out Pikachu's name first/hug Pikachu after being separated from him, yet he says Goh's name first and they lock hands/eyes and smile at each other while Pikachu is kinda just... there, on Ash's shoulder. Just an observation!

As I'm sure you can see, I had a few thoughts on episode 53. 😄

[thirstyandbeautiful]

Babes I’m begging for more Royal!Lewis 😭

holy shit here we go, new lewis fic YASSSS

Find Me Again (Royalty!Lewis)

PT. 1 - PT. 2

Fic Summary: When you and Lewis are on opposite sides of the court and have been harboring a steamy affair, how will it stand the test of an arranged marriage, a toxic court and the usual drama of the royal lifestyle? 

Chapter Summary: You must find a way to settle into a crown you don’t want while Lewis is interrogated by the other lands’ princes. (Lots of background to start this fic out right!)

“Darling-“

“No!” You screeched, taking advantage of the fact that you had an empty room with your father, “No, this isn’t fair.”

Your tears burned like ice down your cheeks as you let your emotion go. So unbecoming for a Queen, your mind reminded you, pushing you further into distress.

The throne room had been cleared after court had ended, and you’d taken up the fight with your father. Any good feelings you had from being in Lewis’ arms evaporated as the reality set in. This was much more than just trying to ensure you married your lover, this was your life. And how your life would change drastically from one man’s decision to continue succession when it was too early to.

But, as always, your father didn’t see that.

“My dear,” your father rose from his throne and descended down the steps to you, “no one who has it in their grasp ever wants the throne.” You glared up at him as his fingers pushed your chin up, “And as cruel as you might think me, your reluctance to take your rightful place as ruler of our land solidifies my stance on you becoming Queen.”

You stepped back and covered your face with your hands, rubbing away tear tracks before lifting your head to look at your father. You were devastated, and he didn’t look remorseful.

“But- marriage, I-“

“I didn’t want the throne.” He told you softly, “I pushed it away and pushed it away, and then what happened? War happened and it was forced on me in the worst way imaginable.” He approached you slowly, like you were a deer, with his hands up, “If you take it now, I can guide you.”

“You can retire.” You sneered.

He chuckled, “That too.”

You rolled your eyes as he laughed at you like he did when you were a child. You didn’t understand how a parent, how your parent, could offer you up on a silver platter to the playhouse of treachery and put the shiniest target in all the world on your head- voluntarily.

But no matter your anger, you could feel the pressure of responsibility, of your nobility, as it crushed your shoulders down until you rolled them back and steeled your face. When you looked at your fathers smirking face, you didn’t even flinch.

“How long do I have?” Your voice didn’t waver.

“I’ll give you 6 weeks.” He clapped his hands together and turned tightly on his heel to begin his ascent back to his seat, “After that,” he called over his shoulder, “this seat is yours, and you’ll be a married woman.”

He settled back into the golden throne and rested his cheek against his fist as he leaned on the armrest like he was bored after all the emotional turmoil you had rolled through. He smiled down at you before he wagged his fingers in a childish wave goodbye, dismissing you.

You tore off down the hallways, careful that your footfalls weren’t heavy. The last thing you needed to be seen doing was stamping your feet down the hallways after leaving the throne room.

There were just so many people infesting your kingdom, and every turn you made you felt like your head was loose on top of your shoulders with the way you had to keep nodding. Fed up, you cut into one of the study’s and pushed what looked like a frame in, making the thing swing out and reveal the secret passageway.

It was a curious contraption, a masterfully created maze of back hallways and staircases that allowed one to move across the castle undetected. It was your kingdom’s best kept secret.

When you finally got to a familiar square cut out, the handle of it wrapped with pink silk, you sighed and swung it open. Stepping into your room, you carefully closed it and collapsed in front of your vanity.

“Oh!” Your chambermaid squeaked as she stepped into the room with a stack of fresh linens, “Your highness, you frightened me.”

You nodded dismissively, but still bit out an apology as you rummaged the drawers for some of the powder that your crying had soaked off. Lifting your brush, you gently worked some powder under your eyes. They’d only just deflated enough to look normal, and you couldn’t afford a day hidden behind your bedroom door. With four kingdoms in attendance, you had to be seen as much as possible.

“M’lady,” your chamber maid came into the reflection of your mirror behind you, “I should mention that they’re waiting for you in the parlor.”

“Thank you, Aurora.” You gave her a small smile that you could just about manage.

The familiar face returned the gesture before turning on her heel. She took two steps before she backtracked and captured your attention. The look on her face was torn, and you felt your heckles rise.

“M’lady,” Aurora said again, with a tone you did not like, “if I may-“

“What?” You bit out, not liking the way her lips were askew as she struggled to find her voice but looked desperately like she was spilling a secret, “What do you have to share?”

“Well, your highness, I just- I, I had heard some of the librarians speaking before,” you dropped your brush with a clatter that made Aurora jump, “and they seemed to be insinuating that some noises in the study have become common place-“

“And?” You challenged her through the mirror’s reflection.

“And I just thought you should know.”

You kept your stare on her through the reflection, unsure how to process the news in a royal way. This is bad, very bad.

“Aurora, you’re dismissed for the rest of the day.”

The normally helpful, yet bird like woman bowed deeply before rushing from your room. Your foot falls felt like hammers to your chest. The guilt of treating Aurora in such a way, to dismiss her was so stupid. The fear of her knowing exactly what she spoke of spooked you.

You had to tell Lewis tonight.

-

“You’re doing quite well today.”

Lewis nodded at his fathers compliment, stoic on the outside but preening inside.

“Thank you, I am trying.”

“Yes, I can tell. I know how you detest these courts and the royal proceedings with the other kingdoms but you respect the importance.” Lewis nodded as his father elaborated, “Which is why I was shocked that you missed the meeting in the reading room.”

Lewis almost, almost, tripped but didn’t. He had told his father he’d attend that meeting, but abandoned it in order to get some time to blow off steam with you. When he lifted his eyes to look at his father, he almost laughed at the look on his face.

“I’m not going to pretend I don’t have a hunch,” Lewis could feel his heart beat out of his chest, “but please, be careful.” He chuckled.

Lewis’ mind slowed to dripping honey as he realized the insinuation had nothing to do with you. His father regarded him like a naughty boy who was fucking a maid, not his neighboring kingdom’s princess.

He didn’t have anything to say, not wanting to confirm nor deny such a thing, lest he wanted his father to push the topic and potentially have to lie intricately. So he settled for nodding.

“But now,” his father changed the subject after a beat of silence, “it’s time for your least favorite duty.”

Lewis sighed heavily as his father clapped a hand on his shoulder, “Do I have to?” He asked lowly.

“Yes,” he laughed, “go mingle and strengthen our future.”

Well, that’s one way to put it to guilt the fuck out of me, Lewis sighed, “Alright, alright. I’ll see you tonight.”

His father nodded as he came to a stop in the middle of the hallway, at an intersection where they’d part. Formally, Lewis bowed before taking off down the hallway for the next part of his day. Informally, upon standing up straight again, he winked at his father before turning on his heel and continuing on with his day.

His foot falls echoed as he moved with purpose towards the tea room where the princes regularly met during these types of trips. It was easily his least favorite part of the day. The food was good, the tea divine but how could anyone enjoy such splendor with the most rotten of princes in attendance?

Lewis rolled his eyes as he rounded another corner. He amused himself by remembering the few times that the offensive prince had skipped tea time. How much nicer and lighter, fun even, the time had turned without the poison of such a leech to spoil it.

Have I manifested this?

Lewis stared into the room with shock as the two other princes here for the weekend sat playfully joking with each other in the room. His least favorite of future rulers no where to be seen.

“He’s here.” Daniel sighed and called to him as Lewis walked further in, “He’s just late.”

“Maybe he’ll skip all together.” Lando giggled.

The tea room was an overly large room with powder blue walls and a navy, velvet carpet that matched the heavy drapes. A lone, golden, circular table with intricate designs running down its legs held a small feast for the men, and the varied couches and seats around the table were just as gaudy.

Not willing to chance it, Lewis took the seat between Lando and Daniel’s.

“Doubt it.” Lewis nodded to Daniel before facing Lando with a smile, “He’d never give up an opportunity to torture us.”

“The cunt.” Daniel commented loudly.

Lewis smiled softly as the youngest king laughed as he lounged back in his own seat like a cat.

Daniel and Lando were never a problem. Daniel was a part of a much less problematic nation that kept to itself and was kept in check by a fair ruler, his father. He was funny, and friendly, and when he was finally friendly enough with you, raunchy. When Lewis had first met him, he found himself blushing around the man, unsure whether it was the shock of his comments or heat of his arousal around the crass man.

Lando was on the complete opposite end of the spectrum. He was young and sheltered, his nation relatively new to independence but incredibly wealthy. He still smiled like a boy, a very cute one at that. He had this air of innocence that had Lewis fearing for the day it would be crushed. Because inevitably, it would be.

No prince can stay a boy forever.

Lewis’ wistful thoughts had pulled him away from whatever Daniel and Lando were discussing, but the two obviously thought he was listening with the way they just kept going on and on. It wasn’t until your name was mentioned that his bubble of melancholy and responsibility popped.

“I can’t believe they’re going to marry her off.” Lando mumbled.

“That’s the way it goes, kid.” Daniel sighed, “I-“

Daniel was cut off by the doors that had been previously shut by a maid swung open. The bitch had arrived and wanted everyone to know.

“What a day!” Prince Nico called too loudly, all too eager to have the attention to steer whatever bullshit he wanted to go on about today as he sat next to Lando and directly across from Lewis.

Lewis made a point to not meet his gaze.

“Do you really think they’ll arrange a marriage for her?” Lando asked in a small voice, more than used to working his way around Nico’s outbursts.

Nico laughed dryly as he snatched a cookie off the table, “If they’re smart, if her father wants any insurance that his kingdom will live past his own stupidity-” Daniel and Lewis hissed at the lack of tact, “he’ll arrange something to help her keep it.”

Lando’s eyes widened and watered for a moment, and the realization dawned on Lewis in a moment, “It’s expected of us, come a certain age.” Lewis told Lando softy, “But you’re many years away.” 

Lando nodded his head before looking down at his lap again. He carefully lifted his tea cup to his lips. He hadn’t quite mastered covering his feelings, but Daniel, Lewis and most of the other princes tried their best to make him feel comfortable in his lack of control.

“Some of us have escaped it for some time.” Nico mumbled rather loudly into his own drink as he got comfortable in his seat.

Daniel shrugged, “Not the type to be arranged, mate.” 

The Aussie’s shoulders were turned toward Nico and his feet were planted on the ground. He looked ready to leap forward at a second’s notice, and while Lewis would’ve loved to watch Nico get mopped, he didn’t want to do so in your kingdom, he thought it was an unspoken sign of respect to have a higher decorum here. 

Lewis chuckled and slapped his hand against Daniel’s shoulder, “I don’t think she is either.”

“Ah, that little firecracker doesn’t need a husband to run a kingdom.” Daniel shrugged, relaxing back slightly, “But I reckon it would be fun at her side.”

Lewis chuckled and nodded, “We’ll have to see who she chooses.”

“Don’t you feel entitled to her?” Nico asked with a lift of his chin, the sly smirk on his face already telling him that Nico thought he knew the answer.

“How exactly does one end up with a feeling of entitlement over another individual?” 

“Well, many summers together had to breed some urges between you both. I know that if I spent the hottest months of the year with something like that- with the flush on her cheeks, I-”

“Will you be asking for her hand, then?” Lewis was careful to keep his composure and didn’t move a muscle, not willing to show an ounce of his true feelings in the matter in front of such an audience. 

The other princes were leaned in, eager and listening with wide eyes. It wasn’t the first tiff that he and Nico had gotten into, and would definitely not be the last, but this was the first one that centered around a princess.

“Maybe,” He smirked and lounged sideways on the luxurious loveseat he was perched on, further grating Lewis’ mood, “she’d be a shit wife, but with that temper probably a great lay.”

Lewis leaned forward and placed his cup down so gently it barely scraped the wood of the table, “I wish all the best to whatever poor soul ends up tethered to your own, Nico.” 

Nico’s smirk pulled into a snarl before he rolled his eyes and took a sip, signifying the end of the conversation. He was a pissy prince, but he gave up easily enough when Lewis stayed unruffled. 

“Who would you wed then?” 

Lewis almost rolled his eyes as Daniel’s voice broke the tension with Nico, and added another layer of it, “I dunno.” he answered noncommittally.

“It just seems like it would make sense-”

“Nah,” Lando cut in, “you know after her father and his aunt-”

“I’m sat right here.” Lewis cut him off sharply, “We’re all so eager to discuss my future bride when I hear that you two have been quite the commotions.” 

Lando’s eyes got big and instantly started to water, while Nico’s grin spread back across his face. Lewis could feel Daniel staring a hole into his face. 

“Fuck this.” Daniel growled as he tipped his goblet back and downed the rest of the fiery liquid he always smuggled into court down his throat before rising to his feet, “Let’s go, Lando.” 

“Tell me,” Nico raised his voice as he reached out to grab Lando’s wrist, “how does your father feel about a potential kingdom change for his young boy? Is it his interest or your own?” When Daniel snarled and pulled the youngest prince along behind him, Nico felt more emboldened by the Aussie’s back, “And you, Daniel, a knight? Really?”

The doors to the lounge shut with a deafening bang that had Lewis giving Nico a blank stare, “Really?”

“What?” Nico shrugged, “It’s such a cliche.” 

“Daniel and Michael grew up together.”

“As did you and our prized princess.” 

Fuck. He’d fallen right into Nico’s trap.

“It’s not fair to pick on Lando either,” Lewis continued, forcing himself to stay unfazed, “he’s the youngest and I’m pretty sure he still thinks us as his friends, even you.” 

“He’ll learn.” Nico chuckled, “Just like you did.”

Lewis ignored the quip, “It’d be nice if it were by guidance, not fire.” 

“Is there a difference?” Nico spit out.

“Not to you.” He sighed as he pushed himself to his feet and continued to the same way Daniel and Lando had gone. 

[thesunshinebunny]

When the world falls apart, the only thing we can hold onto is ourselves (Part VII)

 Series Master list

pairing: canon Eren Jaeger x reader

content: Angst, unstable relationship, breakup, smut/nswf+18, major character death, violence, blood (obviously), war (pretty obvious)

summary: War and hate. It’s what defined the world at this exact moment. You failed your comrades, and by failing them, you failed yourself. Your relationship is hanging by a thread and your enemies will not only be found on the other side of the sea, but also in the mind of the person you love the most. How will you take the reins in the face of so much destruction?

Chapter summary: Sometimes, to understand the present, it’s necessary to pay a visit to the past. While reader is in a deep sleep, their unconscious plays a trick on them by reminding the most important and catastrophic moments in their life.

Word Count: 9.1K

Year 847, a very hot and humid day.

First day of training in the 104° squad. Each of the hundreds of soldiers coming into the slaughterhouse gathered in lines, lined up, waiting for our first orders. Announcement of names and locations. Some serious who didn’t need an introduction, other clowns who didn’t take the training seriously. Instead, I...was  waiting with an empty view towards the horizon, not seeing anything or anyone in particular.

First day, call and presentation; some came from cities, some from towns, but none from a filthy wealthy family of nobility, much less royalty. Most of us simple villagers, presented on a silver platter for the aristocracy, entering our graves on our own. Each one would have their reasons, some simpler than others, some more hypocritical than others, and others more selfish than all of us here.

First day, and there were already a couple on the ground and others being severely punished. Like the tall girl with a ponytail who had the brilliant idea to not only steal, but also cook a potato before training and eat it in the middle of line formation. A village girl, a hunter and faithful to her principles and culture; a girl who wasn’t ashamed to show her true colors on the first day, even if it gave her a punishment that would end up lasting for hours, until nightfall. An incredible example for the most stupid, but equally for the bravest. I think it was hearing where did she coming from that something inside me arose like a flower in the middle of spring, or maybe it was hearing her resound every minute around the training ground until the moon rose. I’m not very clear about it. Maybe I wanted to be nice to someone after a long time, and what better way to start with a person who was humiliated on the first day of what would be our next life.

I wasn’t quick enough to bring her something to eat when her punishment ended, a certain very short blonde beat me beforehand, but I was quick to save her a seat next to me the next night, while saving her a portion of bread. I assumed she would like it, and I wasn’t wrong. She devoured every last crumb along with her ration of dubiously sourced food on a metal plate. Hearing her eat with such enthusiasm brought a smile to my face, it reminded me of the little tadpole children who came and went in my town, asking for a piece of bread or an apple, even knowing that they had food at home. Those playful children who wandered through the small market, looking for some candy and returning disappointed at their doors when they hadn’t found any.

"I didn't hear yesterday where you came from"

Sasha, I think that's the name of the girl in front of me. Apparently she was talking when my mind wandered with nostalgia and melancholy. Her eyes were very fixed on mine, and as much as I looked away, I could still feel them penetrating my skull. I guess you can't dodge the past for long, right? At the very least, I tried to be as cautious as possible when giving my answer.

"I come from a village northeast of the wall Maria, far enough away from the wall to be warned of the fall before a titan reached our town"

She played with the poorly made metal spoon on a piece of carrot that came out of the poor soup, already cold, that this place delighted us for the second night in a row. I made me a mental note to go out hunting every now and then if I wanted to have a good meal and not end up anorexic and a failure.

“And what do you do in your village? In mine we are dedicated to hunting, but they’re taking away the land for the cattle” She took a huge bite of his bread, showing how angry she was. I couldn’t blame her, taking the land out of a hunting village was like taking away their essence, a part of their soul.

"We’re dedicated to raising horses and handicrafts" From our town came the fastest horses that the military police could ask for, some of them stayed for the field and keep the children busy.

Beautiful horses dedicated to the gambling of the nobility, others common for the plowing of the agricultural peoples. Horses dedicated to the race for the survey corps; what the government needed, we provided. It would be hypocritical of me to say now that the horse was my least favorite animal. It was not. For me they were the most beautiful, faithful and loyal creatures in this whole little world. My favorite animal without a doubt.

I wanted to talk about the various horses we managed to sell at a high price to the most authoritarian court on the Rose wall, but a noise from behind our table made my jaw drop.

A "Tsk" echoed throughout the dining room.

I turned my head, hoping to find an animal, or anything but a human like us. To my misfortune, I met the withering look of a brunette with bright green eyes, just as bright as those of the forest, and his hand holding the spoon tightly, as if my simple face angered him.

"Do you have a problem, Jaeger?" I remembered him from yesterday. Serious, tall, with a look that could kill you at any moment. Decisive and lethal. At the same time conceited and childish. He had won the ears and admiration of the majority here with well-used words and a touch of drama.

"Yes, I have a problem" his hand let the spoon escape on the plate, causing some drops to fly in all directions "I have a problem with people like you"

He got up from his seat, walking slowly but steadily toward my table, planting himself in front of me. The lap dog as a friend of his following behind him with a decomposed face, one hand half raised, perhaps to stop him if necessary. But let's face it, of the two, Eren was the one with the most strength, it was obvious to the naked eye.

"And what is that due to? Or do you wait for me to get into your little head and find some clue that can help me understand the cockroach you have for a brain?" At no time did I get up, I wasn’t going to lower myself to the same situation as him.

Half of my body had my back to him, so I was looking at him over the shoulder. He may not have liked that, ‘cause he immediately grabbed my shoulder and turned me around, waiting for me to look him in the eye.

"People like you, who come from villages far from the cities, who don’t know the real danger, are a problem" He looked so angry, angry with the world perhaps? I couldn't find an answer to that anger, nor the source of his feelings. But what I did know, was that he wasn't going to let me be trampled on by a fool who knew the world simply by seeing a titan within his short life.

"Excuse me, but you realize that many here come from villages far from the big cities and only very few saw a titan with their own eyes" And it was those same people who began to get up and look at him with bad eyes. The same ones who looked at him with wonder, as if he were an angel fallen from heaven to bring them the news of the world.

I fervently removed his hand from my shoulder and deigned to stand up, trying to gain some ground in this pathetic discussion. I wasn't going to raise my voice like I assumed the boy in front of me was going to do it at any moment, so my body did it instead.

"I don't understand what your complaints are about, but please, oh great Eren, the one who saw a titan bigger than the wall, explain to me" I could notice how his other friend was approaching towards his back, looking at me with caution.  Now, of the group of three, with her I had to be the most careful.

"Are you making fun of me?" he took a dangerous step towards me. 

“’course not” ‘Course yes, but I wasn't going to say it openly.

"People who don’t see the enemy in the face think they can come out of the walls to face it" did my ears hear that correctly? I looked at him as if a third eye had popped out on his forehead.

"Not having seen a titan in my short life doesn’t mean that I cannot go out to fight them"

"And yet you have no fucking idea what you're up against" the conversation was getting more and more heated, his feet were getting closer to mine and I could lightly feel his breath on my skin.

"That doesn't mean you can come and mistreat me" I instantly threw myself back, but ran into the legs of the table. Sasha's hand rested on my shoulder, unable to encourage me with words, but enough emotionally.

"Fucking villagers" he took a step back, turning on his heel and looking, without seeing, or so it seemed, the crowd around him "you don't know what it’s to see a relative of yours being eaten in front of your eyes!"

Ah, that's where so much hatred for the world came from. But I wasn’t his target. He must express his emotions, his anger, towards a common enemy, not towards a comrade who was going to help him in battle. Taking it with me wasn’t going to help him at all, and the fact I was from a small village didn’t mean I was naive and deserved the anger of the citizens. "I'm sorry that happened to you-"

"My mom was eaten in front of my eyes!"

"I'm sorry that happened to your mom! And I'm very sorry that you had to see it with your own eyes, but taking it out on me is not going to help you ”I pushed him back with my words, unfortunately they were not enough to stop his viper tongue.

"You can't know what it feels like to lose your mother like that" he turned his back on me, and before turning to his blond friend, he turned his head over his shoulder, looking at me again with contempt. "Go back to your village with your mommy and cries on her lap for being incapable of shit"

His comment blew me away.

He had left my mind blank and the only thing I managed to do was throw myself back, and sit down heavily on the hard wooden bench. My eyes stared into nothingness, unable to observe the multitude of eyes that settled on me with sadness, some with regret and support. Sasha sat down next to me on the left, while on the right a figure that I didn’t recognize crouched down to look me in the face. All I could make out of him, or her, were those big round blue eyes. A blue that reminded me of the rivers that flowed gracefully near my town. The same water that landed on a larger lake or river, and… perhaps, on the same sea.

"Hey, Eren-" I heard someone yell. From the tone of their voice I thought I distinguish Jean's annoyance.

I didn't have a second to reflect on what I was doing and before I could blink, a plate full of food was flying in the direction of the two boys, impacting on the wooden wall and scattering the pieces of vegetables on the floor and the people who unfortunately was close.

The two boys turned to see where the plate had come from, finding my hand half raised and smeared on the thumb of the cold soup. My body was euphoric, my breath hitched and my chest rose and fell quickly.

"You ... you don't know shit about me, or my family, or my people" I started slowly what would be the best speech I would have given in my 13 years, a speech that would bring me problems, as well as friends. “I’m so sorry about your mother, but in the same way, she was devoured by an enemy of which we still do not know exactly"

I came around the table and approached the brunette, meeting his friend halfway through. Without stopping, I hit her shoulder with mine, pushing my way over her.

"While mine was shot by the people who had to protect her" now my body was a few inches from him, taking Jean away from his side "my mother was killed for the simple fact of wanting to see the sea"

His blond friend, who hadn't been separated from him at any time, widened his eyes, even more than the person who bent down to comfort me. His eyes stared at me in amazement before turning to understanding and sadness.

"Judging by your friend's expression, he understand what I'm talking about" There was little space for me to move calmly, so I chose to get closer and closer to Eren, keeping my face a few inches from his. Even with the slight difference in height, I could manage to have an aura of warning and seriousness.

I raised my hand to his forehead slowly, preventing the girl from earlier from pouncing on me thinking I was going to hit him.

"The military police took her out of my house, placed her to the center of the village and with a pistol in the middle of her forehead" I closed my hand except for two fingers, simulating the muzzle of the rifle, and placed them in the same place as they did it with my mother "they shot her in front of her little child"

I detached my fingers from his forehead and with a "bang" I simulated the same shot that, to this day, continues to haunt me in dreams, after 6 years. My eyes observed his expression, the color had disappeared from his face, he was so pale that it seemed he was going to faint at any moment. There was no longer a trace of his anger towards me or towards the titans; An immature child had been left in front of me, from whom they had taken food for not knowing how to appreciate it.

I walked away carefully, noticing the trembling in my body, in my legs, and took small steps towards the door, leaving everyone who wanted to give me their condolences and emotional support behind.

"You are lucky that your mother was eaten by a spice stranger to her, mine didn’t have the same fate"

*** Weeks passed from that terrible night. The golden trio hadn't deigned to approach me, and for my part I longed for it to stay that way for the next three years. I didn't want people like Eren or his friends to get involved with me, I preferred the company of people like Sasha and Marco, Jean and Connie, as empty-headed as they were. I preferred to spend my free afternoons practicing archery, preventing some stupid from passing through the shooting range or next to the bullseye from getting a head shot.

"Here, I fixed your glove, now you are supposed to be able to put your thumb in without it opening" Marco had his hand extended, grabbing a leather glove, which I’d found in the storage bag of the training set.

The leaders had been very understanding when explaining the training I wanted to follow as free time. Although no faction was going to need a bow and arrow for sure, due to its inefficiency, I had given my point of view that it would end up being useful if an expedition needed more days than predicted and more food and provisions were needed, a bow was going to be of great help when hunting.

"Thanks Marco, you are an angel in this place" I proceeded to put on the worn glove and test its elasticity with the arrow and the bowstring.

"See you at night" and with that, the freckled man marked himself towards the canteen, greeting Jean in the distance who was waiting for him at the door.

The shooting area was not far from the entire training ground, close enough to observe everyone who came and went on the field, everyone who wandered without any direction or aim, and everyone who wanted to train. As well as being close enough to the training area with the movement equipment, equipment that was being used a lot recently by many colleagues in need of balance. One of them turning out to be the annoying brunette with bright green eyes, who was walking very dangerously with his friends on the target at the time I was about to release the arrow.

The small deadly weapon shot out and ended up hitting the red dot in the middle, grazing Eren's neck. He put a hand on his skin and when he saw the arrow stuck on the straw object he turned to look at me angrily.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing? That almost hit me in the neck "

"If you saw where you walking you would realize you’re in the shooting zone, if an arrow hits you it’s not my fault" I yelled at him from a distance, preparing a new arrow to launch.

When I saw him take a couple of steps towards me, I stretched the arrow back as a warning, I wasn’t going to laid on a rose’s field while he went back to being a fucking asshole. Armin, I knew his name in these weeks when listening to a conversation he’d with another person, he grabbed his arm while Mikasa put herself as a shield. They both took him away from the target and I was able to shoot the arrow without taking my eyes off them.

I followed them until they positioned themselves on one of the balancing machines, helping Eren onto the equipment. I was about to accommodate a third arrow when I heard a scream coming from his direction. My head spun at the same speed an owl would, given countless hours of practice in the woods, and I watched the last second of Eren's fall, watching in broad daylight as his head hit the stone floor. The blow could be heard from a distance, even where I was located I could hear it as if it’s next to me.

Seeing him lying swaying on the floor, half hanging from the equipment made me burst out laughing. I couldn't stop the laughter from coming out of my mouth seeing him in such bad shape. He was going to have a safe bump and maybe some neurons would end up rearranged. My laughter didn’t go unnoticed, the commander Sheith passed on his way to the shooting area and stood in front of me, looking at me with that serious, expressionless gaze.

"Cadet (Y/S)!" I settled myself as best I could, putting the bow to one side and the arrow on the back sleeve before standing firmly "help young Jaeger heal his wound"

I was puzzled and my face reflected it.

"But, sir, why me?" I begged with my words to let me go, or at least give me a couple of hours of punishment, whatever it was before starting a conversation with that selfish man, much less heal his wound.

"Are you arguing with me, cadet?"

Every movement or prayer that I could make to try to accomplish my task vanished like a leaf in the wind. I lowered my head, avoiding his frivolous gaze and waited for him to leave, snorting. I reluctantly put down the bow and arrow sleeve next to a target and headed towards the three of them, Armin and Mikasa were trying to lift Eren off the floor as they took the equipment off his hips.

"Come on, I have to heal your wound" I didn’t stop to greet them, or to explain the situation. In the same way that I approached, I went towards the canteen, without looking back.

On the short drive I overheard Armin asking about my rare kindness, to which I replied dryly that if it weren't for the commander, I'd be breaking my asshole on the floor by laughing. We walked and walked, me in front and the other two physically stable, keeping the dark-haired boy as best they could, lifting his head so that he wouldn't hit himself again. Upon reaching the canteen stairs I yelled "Sasha, I need a bucket of cold water and a washcloth!"

I opened the door for them and pointed to a table near the kitchen door so they could seat Eren. I warned them to keep his head steady, to keep him from going forward or backward, and to keep him awake at all times.

"I didn't know you knew so much about medicine" Armin pointed out when Sasha came out with the bucket of water and a cloth floating in it.

I let out a slight "hmm" before positioning myself behind Eren, squeezing the hands of the other two and allowing them to let me do my job. I ran his hair back, trying to locate the wound and notice any cuts. Finding none, I proceeded to feel the area, finding the slight bump on the upper side of the forehead. I down the cloth in the cold water, letting it soak, and placed it on his head. The water was so, so cold, it had even made me shivered, but for some reason, Eren didn't seem to be fazed at all.

I didn’t give it much importance and I passed the cloth over the bump, waiting a few seconds for it to deflate a little before going through the sides, preventing the area from becoming inflamed as well. I soaked the cloth again and laid it on the side of his forehead, indicating to Armin to press down and not move his hand while I looked for a handkerchief or some bandage to cover the blow. In the same way, I explained to Mikasa to keep watching Eren, to talk to him, even if he wasn't waiting for an answer, to keep him awake for fear of having an accident in his brain.

I found what looked like a used bandage, quite disgusting for my taste, but I wasn’t going to take much longer of my time for "patient" who didn’t deserve my treatises. I stretched the bandage as far as I could over his head, giving it two full turns before pinning it around the back of his head.

"Try to find a better bandage for the blow" I washed my hands with cold water, hoping to get rid of all the irritation the situation had caused.

"Thank you" Armin sounded really grateful, with a hint of ... sympathy perhaps? With my hands clean, I grabbed the bucket and started to put it back in the kitchen when the blonde asked me again "where did you learn all this?"

I sighed not once, but twice, the kitchen door was open and I was about to enter when I threw a look over my shoulder "everything I know, I learned from my mother's books"

And with that I closed the door behind me a second time to the golden trio.

***

Year 850, a beautiful spring night.

The night before our graduation. A hectic night. Between the well-deserved nutritious food, meat and bread that we have longed for the past three years, and the shouts of encouragement for each of us who were present that night, a great party was put together. Many people defected and others didn’t have the ability to move on. Many were frustrated when they fell short of the top ten, fearing they would be sent to the survey corps, others claimingthey had contacts in the military police and had an assured position. Others fought for their point of view before such faction; and with others I mean the same suicidal brunette. Eren, finishing 5th out of the top ten, undoubtedly deigned to throw me in my face.

"Three years and I'm still better than you, your little village tactics were useless" he smiled wickedly and his eyes showed that characteristic glow when he won a fight. Although there wasn’t a fight here, therefore, there was nothing to be gained.

"Congratulations Eren" I turned around without waiting for an answer and walked briskly towards Marco and Jean, they were both heading towards the boys cabin and I followed them to the entrance, leaving a fuzzy Eren behind.

Now, tonight, with the years of training in the past, it was time to rest, have a night of peace before the real deal began. I never thought it would arrive the next morning.

From my position, far from the main entrance to the Trost district, a thunder crashed into the ground, followed by hot smoke covering our feet. The famous colossal titan stood imposing on the side of the wall, watching my companions who were a few meters from him. From where I was standing, I could see his arm rise and run the guns and the others, burning and blinding them with its smoke.

An calvary that started very early and had no intention of ending soon. Death and dismemberment in every corner, blood flying through the air, comrades being eaten. At each step we take, each turn a building took to dodge a Titan or go after one to kill it, a comrade fell in battle; with each step I took, it was one step closer to my own death. But, call it a miracle, call it divine grace, or simple luck, I managed to reach a roof of one of the many houses destroyed by the attack. From the roof, I could see the disaster more clearly, and I could examine my own disaster with great concern.

The pants were torn in the knee area, the tips of my boots brushed my bare skin and apparently bruised from some friction. I had a blood stain in the abdomen area, apparently from a person who was eaten near me and I didn’t have the dignity to see it. I didn’t have the strength or the courage to unbutton my shirt to see the disaster that surely my body had taken in the hours we were surviving in the city. I had enough of the bruises and cuts on my hands and cheeks thanks to some small rocks flying through the air from the impacts; I didn't need to see if my ribs were in place.

In the distance, perhaps three, four houses in from where I was, were a few comrades sitting on the rooftops of another house. It seemed a few had survived and came together to rest, there weren't many titans in sight and the few there were were wandering around without looking around. Those idiots gave me the chance to jump houses, without looking down. If I looked down I would’ve see the cobblestone streets stained red, I would’ve see limbs scattered right and left. I had a goal in mind and I wasn’t going to lose focus on the death around us.

I landed on the fireplace, hitting both knees when landing, I was running out of gas and it showed. The movement wasn’t being so fluid anymore. I scrambled down the stone wall of the fireplace, landing right next to Armin. My movement gear hit his, jerking my hips and torso on impact, nearly knocking me off the roof. Armin didn't flinch, he was just looking at the tiles, but given his expression, I think he wasn't looking at anything at all. He was just preparing to stare and lose himself in the terrors of his mind.

"Armin, what happened? Ar you alright?" stupid questions. Obviously he wasn’t alright, it was reflected in his empty and dark eyes, but my mind couldn’t process correctly.

It was in automatic mode, only thinking about survival, not the correct questions for each of those who were spread out on two rooftops. Of the many who had graduated, we were reduced to two dozen, maybe a little more without counting those who were in that huge building with the gas parts. Others may have taken refuge in a house, waiting for the right moment to move and reach us. But there was little hope, even if I didn’t say it out loud, unconsciously I knew there wasn’t much to do with the people who were not among us, because after all that was exactly what was happening ... they were not with us, they weren’t in the land of the living.

How pessimistic my thinking, right? I wasn’t wrong at all.

"Armin, where is Eren?" want to know the worst?, I already knew the answer before Armin could lift his head and scream the terrible news with his lungs.

In the end, the boy who so wanted to fight the world, succumbed to the terrors of him.

But what had impacted the most was that, minutes after hearing that news, minutes after arriving at the building for gas supplements and saving the comrades who had barricaded themselves, minutes after being saved by that fighting titan, we saw the same Eren, the same brunet with bright green eyes, appear. Alive.

The surprise we all get when we see him emerge from the nape of that eccentric titan. He was fine, his skin pink and hot from the smoke of the decaying body from his titan. His titan? There was no time to understand the situation. If that, how to understand it? We saw him resurface, like a phoenix, among the ashes of a dying body, fully alive. He had all of his limbs, even the ones that had been eaten; I could see the limits of his pants and the sleeve of his shirt torn, with perfect and huge bite marks.

I stood to the side watching the scene, Armin and Mikasa crying uncontrollably when they saw his heart beat. Scientifically and medically that was impossible. Technically speaking, nothing we were witnessing was possible; And yet there was the suicidal bastard, breathing normally. His eyes closed, his lashes drooping over his lids and his hands being held by his childhood friends. Jean couldn't believe the scene before his eyes, even the other trio was hesitant to say anything, with serious faces and completely stiff eyes at Eren. Each and every one of the reactions present entered what would be a normal reaction, missing one who wanted to kill him immediately.

And I think I rushed a couple of minutes.

***

Days after the expedition to the giant tree forest.

With Annie crystallized and guarded underground, a bit of tranquility arose within the walls; a calm that only attributed to the survey corps. Citizens panicked, not understanding, not comprehending even ten percent of what the latest information was being advertised in newspapers and billboards. The general did everything possible to give us time to resupply and rest from such a hard fight. The patrol had been divided in two, and I had remained as Jean's auxiliary escort, the poor man wanted to vomit all the trip when he had to suffer the terrible order of disguising himself as Eren.

And when the time for action came, we were both prepared to assist Eren in his titan form. I wasn’t still used to seeing him at a height of more than 15 meters, but his characteristics were still there: eyes, now huge, green and shiny, as if that shine never went away, no matter how violent or dark the situation turned upside down, and his dark haired, he looked silkier and smoother in this way that the originally he modeled.

Now we where here, Armin, Mikasa, Jean and I watching him and examining his vital signs. He had fallen into a coma for the second time. I couldn't blame him, I guess controlling a titan of that caliber used up a lot of physical energy, let alone the psychological, but to be honest… mental health had already leaked out the window.Each of us were standing in a corner of the room, sometimes Armin wandered between the door and the window, sitting close to his friend on the bed when he couldn't take it anymore from the anguish. Mikasa always sat next to him, holding his hand at all times, faithfully waiting for him to open his eyes. For my part, I was watching the sun set outside the window, as the sunset gave us its warm rays and prepared us for the cold night.

Every once in a while, whenever I heard a snort or movement coming from the bed, I would turn my head and come closer to feel his breathing. He was stable, and showed no signs of any disturbance. He was completely healthy, except that he was absolutely tired. Like all of us.

There was a couple of knocks on the door, pulling all of us out of trance. Jean and Armin were being needed to give testimony in front a small assembly, before the leaders continued speaking with Commander Erwin.

Silence reigned in the room. Mikasa was still willing to maintain her position in the chair, even if the sleep weakened her with each passing minute. I could see how her eyes were closing and her head fell from fatigue, it was obvious that she needed some rest. I put my hand on her shoulder, pulling the scarf out of her hands and trying to lift her up at the same time.

"Come on, you're very tired, you must get some sleep" I led her to a sofa that was doubtfully placed on the other side of the room. Normally our rooms were only furnished with a couple of beds, a desk and a closet, ah... and a paltry window. We couldn't bother with expensive decorations or furniture like a sofa. Above all, when we didn’t receive a decent salary.

"But Eren ..." I laid her on the few cushions, not very comfortable, brown and beige, that matched the small room. When her head touched the doubtful softness of the pillows her eyes closed completely and her breathing became calm, it was a matter of seconds before she fell completely asleep.

"I'm going to take care of him, you rest" I adjusted her hair before noticing she had entered the realm of dreams. Apparently my words were enough to give her that peace of mind to go to sleep.

I knelt to remove her boots and set her feet on the lap of the sofa. Notice her legs stained with dirt, I'd bet she'd have a couple of bruises around her knees and ankles, maybe even her feet. My body was moving heavily as I searched for a blanket among the few scraps of cloth lying in the closet. In the end, I ended up finding one a bit small for her body, but it perfectly covered her torso and stomach, that way she wouldn't take cold while she was in her defenseless state.

I wanted to look out the window again, but there was nothing to observe that I hadn’t seen before, a sad and dull orange sky. I settled into the chair, feeling that I was usurping Mikasa's place for some strange reason, and I kept analyzing the young man lying on the bed. His hair was matted and a bit dirty, a shower every now and then wouldn't hurt, although he smelled conveniently well, like freshly cut wood or dry grass. A scent that, while I was destined to smell more than necessary thanks to the expeditions, I felt no discomfort smelling it on Eren. It fit him very well indeed. I might even get used to being around him if it meant smelling such a sweet scent.

Seconds that seemed like minutes, and minutes that seemed like hours. Time seemed to play against me and I felt like my body began to weigh me more and more, and more, until I fell forward and lay my face on the hard mattress and the soft fabric of the sheet. Second-rate cotton, if you would let me say so, but it did the job. It was comfortable, too comfortable, enough to let me rest for a moment and close my eyes, making time flow more quickly.

I felt a hand gently rest on my head, moving and caressing me with a tenderness I hadn't felt in years. I opened my eyes immediately expecting to find my father in front of my eyes, but instead, I spotted a still asleep Eren, scratching himself and trying to wipe the sleep out of his eyes.

I pulled his hand out of my head quickly, but without being rude, and laid them on the bed. I rubbed my eyes and gave him a half smile "Good morning sleeping beauty"

It took a few seconds for his eyes to get used to the little light that filtered through the window and when they opened they surveyed the entire room, still drowsy.

"Where is Mikasa? Armin? " he coughed after feeling a little hawking in his throat.

I stretched out on the chair, accommodating the bones of my back and immediately moved to the side, letting him see a sleeping Mikasa, comfortable and warm under a blanket. Eren inspected her, perhaps trying to find any signs of injury or complaints, but finding none he turned his gaze from her to me.

"Mikasa is asleep" I settled back on the chair, this time stretching forward a bit and resting my elbows on the bed, holding my head on my hands "Armin and Jean had to go to give their testimony for the paperwork"

Ere didn't say anything, he just nodded and gave me a brief "hmm" before looking out the window. "How do you feel?" was the last thing I said before the room fell silent again and neither he nor I deigned to say anything else.

Years of hating each other weren't going to go away, just like that. It was going to be a long road now that we were in a much worse mess than when we were 13 years old. But at least, we could talk to each other without the need to jump on each other's jugular, that's progress, right?

***

Why couldn't this bastard have a little sense of preserving of his life? Why wasn't he a little more careful, and since we are, a little more common sense? Why couldn't he stay calm for a few seconds, analyze the situation and act according to his surroundings?

Now we had to do a search party to find the damned "last hope of mankind". Galloping as fast as the horses would allow us, avoiding on all sides dozens of titans, even when one fell, five more came out. It was an order that had become more and more dangerous. And to make matters worse, having to be behind two of the most dangerous titans we could have encountered was a suicide mission and most of us knew it. We were giving it our all for an idiot, who I don't think he knew the value of the lives that were being lost in battle.

Sighted in the distance, ranks breaking and each one trying to survive while we tried to have enough time to rescue him from the armored titan, large numbers of soldiers were being eaten or crushed. You know the terror I had in my eyes to see Captain Erwin being bitten on the arm and dragged towards God knows where? If a great man like him could be defeated so easily in the blink of an eye, what was in store for us? What was in store for me?

I kept galloping, begging Phillip to keep going as fast as he could, that he never stop and be careful of everything in his path. I was so scared that I didn't know exactly to who I was saying it, the horse or myself. For sure, I knew the horse wouldn’t understand me perfectly, but he was the only thing that I could grab to at that moment, the only one that could save me.

Both left and right, titans ran everywhere, the boys had managed to reach the battleship while the others did what they could to give them time, seeing Ymir was also a sight worthy of admiration if it wasn’t because I was givind my life at this moment. And surely she was helping the blonde of "girlfriend" instead of us.

In that sway between giant bodies and tiny soldiers, the ground rumbled, the earth fell away, even trees fell at our feet. When trying to reach Mikasa before she fell, a titan came out of nowhere in front of me, trying to dodge it would be a feat, especially when he had his immense mouth pointing almost completely in my direction. I will never be able to thank the soldier who cut his neck, for seconds later to be grabbed by another titan and break his spine in such a grip. With the body decomposing and the other titan out of focus, I was able to move on, circling the smoking mass, ready to support Mikasa when another mass fell very close to me, causing the horse to jump from the force of the impact. In that second of distraction I turned my head to look at what had fallen, the ground began to crack under Phillip's legs and it only took a footfall from the armor titan to completely break apart and pieces of earth and stone came out, shotting everywhere.

As I turned my head back forward, I saw clearly how a stone flew directly towards my head. Call it reflections, call it having a guardian angel on my shoulders, but I was able to move my head in time, causing the stone to impact the gap between my shoulder and neck. I shot backward, hitting my head against the hard ground. I felt my shoulder dislocate and I noticed how by leaps and bounds the shirt, previously white, was staining with blood, as well as the jacket and the floor. My head was probably bleeding from the back as well, but the pain in my shoulder kept me from focusing on anything else. It was impossible to move it, I tried to scream for help, but my words stuck in my throat, and even if I had been able to scream, it would have been overshadowed by the hundreds more screams that were begging for help. The grass around me felt a bit comforting, like a cold hug in the last minutes of life. Body pain prevented me from reacting to the sight of a five-meter titan approaching where I was lying. Tears began to flow, falling down my cheeks; I wanted to scream, say my last goodbye, but I was so petrified that I just closed my eyes.

If I was going to die, I would rather die without seeing the horrible face of that damned titan. I preferred to have the image of my family in mind one last time. The ground began to rumble, I thought more titans were going to come for me, that I was going to be smashed into pieces, but the longer it took to feel the huge hand or a pair of teeth, I opened my eyes, finding myself, not a pack of hungry titans, but with the clear evening sky.

I raised my head and to my surprise, a bizarre surprise, all the titans that were chasing us at the time, were now going towards one of the highest. I couldn't understand what was happening, I looked around trying to find someone, to see if someone else was seeing the same thing as me. In the distance I found Armin holding a figure, I couldn't quite see who, trying to breathe normally and stand up. I tried calling out to him, but my vision started to blur and it made me dizzy from trying to lift my head even higher. I brought my hand to my head and confirmed the blood that flowed behind it, I was completely soaked in my own blood and at any moment I would end up fainting if I didn't treat my wounds.

The grinding of a horse brought me back to a state of consciousness, Phillip was back next to me and he lowered his head towards my good shoulder, pushing it up and lifting me little by little. Standing back on both feet, I leaned on his stomach and in an attempt to walk towards Armin I heard Eren's terrified scream in the distance.

Both he and Mikasa were looking at the scene without understanding anything at all, and what bothered me the most was that those stupid were still sitting on the ground, without any intention of moving. As I could, I got on the horse's lap, lying on my stomach, both arms hanging at the side, and I told him to run as fast as possible towards the two figures in the most dangerous area that could be at that moment.

"Stop looking and start moving!" I yelled at them a few feet away. They both turned their heads in my direction, wanting to say something, but only managed to gasp a few times before I arrived.

I grabbed the collar of Eren's shirt and with what little strength I had left, I lifted him off the ground "NO TIME TO TALK, LET'S GO"

Seeing Mikasa being picked up by Eren and placed on his back, I indicated to Phillip to leave the area, to try to get to safety, along with the other soldiers. At our side ran the couple of stupid who almost devoured, wondering what had happened. Their words sounded more and more distant and the ride put me in a calm trance until I was unconscious.

***

Year 851, a beautiful summer day to go horseback riding without the hassle of a titan in the area. At the same time, a beautiful day to visit the forgotten and destroyed towns.

We took our time, observing the landscape. Trees that had fallen and left their tracks on the ground and on the trunk were beginning to show traces of vegetation in their wood. The grass crushed by large feet was beginning to heal and new shoots were coming to the surface, some flower buds could also be seen. The few stone paths were smashed, small cobblestones were smashed, and there was no possibility of repair unless they were remade. Today was the day; the day it was my village's turn to be toured. We leave early to the northwest, guiding us along the river, me in the lead. The night before I hadn’t been able to sleep, to close an eye, I was nervous, very nervous, I couldn’t even eat anything for breakfast. After four years, I returned to my home, or what was left of it.

Endless nights I dreamed of returning to my small village, touring the oldest houses and greeting its inhabitants, seeing the children run, now older, and helping them take an apple from the market. I dreamed of reassembling one of our horses, of stroking and caressing them, earning me one, perhaps two licks to the face. But what I most dreamed of was to see my father's face again, to see his eyes full of dark circles and sadness at having lost his wife, the woman he loved the most in the whole world; I wanted to hold hid hands again, see them splintered after carving a piece of wood and turning it into a beautiful work of art. I wanted to lie down by the communal fire, hear stories from the elderly, shameful stories, and love stories. I wanted to be able to repeat my childhood years, to see my mother one last time, to be able to say goodbye properly.

I wished my village had been intact, but at the entrance my heart shattered. There were no standing houses in sight, all had sagging roofs, broken windows, and dried blood marks from years painting the walls.

I got off the horse looking at the damage and I was leading him forward by the mooring. Slowly, being careful not to trip over any stone, I entered the town more and more, seeing the withered flowers and their dried petals lying on the floor. Children's cloth toys, a odd wooden horse broken in half. Some walls were burned, others full of holes, the clothes hanging outside the houses torn into pieces, the stable reduced to nothing. The center, where the market normally took place, full of rubble and garbage, on the left a path of dried blood, on the right as well. I approached a stall that had not been completed, a fruit and vegetable stall, now reduced to nothingness itself. I picked up the chunk of splintered wood and found underneath what scared me the most. An arm.

I didn't know who it was exactly, the clothes were almost the same for everyone, but I assumed it was a man's; It was in the process of decomposition, pieces of meat were half detached. Beside him, a porcelain doll broken on its head, its brown curls discarded, and only dirt and fiber remained. I picked it up with both hands and kept walking in the direction… in which direction? I couldn’t tell. Only my body was on autopilot looking around me for a sign, the slightest hope that someone had survived. But one look at the stables from the beginning was the only thing that put my hopes in the trash: there were pieces of horses lying all over the ground. Not even our pride had survived. My feet stopped walking, dragging on the ground, and stopped in front of the house that saddened me the most. Mine.

Of all, this was the one in the best condition, part of the roof had fallen to the side, not on the house, and a hole led directly to the living room. The walls were completely burned, not from the destruction of a horde of titans, no. Those burns were from years before, produced by the military police. Seeing that wreck brought me the vile memory of the day of her execution. The people were scared, they implored not to kill her, but those brutes turned a deaf ear and executed her without mercy. My mother was a very dear woman to everyone and no one denied her dreams of leaving the walls, my father loved her more than anyone ... but that love of his was not enough to save her.

"(Y / N)?" I heard Eren's voice behind me.

His voice echoed in my ears, but I couldn't fully register it, I was just looking straight ahead, towards the hole in my house, looking from the outside for fear of entering. "These were the borders of my life"

I took a step forward, then another, and then another, until I collided with the first stones of the house. From that place I could see how the fire from a small oil lamp had fallen on the floor and burned part of my father's favorite armchair. I took another step, fully entering what was left of my old home. I ran my hand over the dry, scratchy fabric, dust had collected over the weeks, maybe years. Given how advanced the bloodstains were, I couldn't exactly calculate the time that had elapsed. In front of the chair was still a small desk full of sheets, most of them ruined by rubble, but some survived. Some of these had broken tips, other were left with black spots, and others were flawless, as if they had been made yesterday. Beautiful drawings of people, others of nature, others of birds or city buildings.

I kept looking for more sheets, running those that were hopelessly damaged, and under my foot I came across a paper somewhat harder and thicker than the others, even framed. The glass was broken but it revealed perfectly a small family, a man, his wife and their child. "In this dusty and destroy little house, where an artist love his wife"

I took the drawing with me, holding it tight with both hands, until I reached the only standing door in the house. The door leading to the master bedroom. I stood there for a couple of seconds, wondering if it was right for my sanity, if it was right for my conscience to open it up and find whatever was on the other side. I inhaled and exhaled a couple of times before sliding the door open. Next to the bed, on the side where my mother used to sleep, was my father's top. I wasn't brave enough to turn around and see his face. I closed my eyes when I saw the scene and left what was left of the facade with my head lowered. "The house of my childhood is gone"

***

A couple of days after hitting the ocean.

We had settled next to the shore. Jean, Sasha and Connie were playing with the small waves that were breaking in the sand, Armin was inspecting small seashells and Mikasa was dedicated to dipping her feet in the cold water. We had made a small fire to cover ourselves from the cold of the coming night. Eren and I were in front of that same fire. He watched as the small sparks flew over the small sea of ​​flames until they exploded and died in the blink of an eye. Some fell into the sand before exploding, others continued to rise until they rose higher and became part of the beginning of the starry sky.

My feet were barefoot in the sand, letting the little grains get between my toes and tickle every time I twisted them. I dropped my head on Eren's shoulder, giving me the chance to close my eyes and reopen them after a few seconds, admiring the sea towards the horizon.

After so many calamities, after so many deaths and losses, a moment of quiet was more than necessary. Maybe being this close to the bright green-eyed brunette wasn't so bad after all.

I could get used to this.

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[shurelyasreverie]

Aphelios x Solari!Reader: Faith in the Traitor

Deemed a traitor for sympathising with the Lunari, you are alone as you aimlessly wander through Targon, only to catch the attention of one of the most dangerous assassins the Lunari has to offer...

Word Count: 2097

Warning: Violence and death

Aphelios found you leaning against a tree in the forests below Mount Targon. Your figure bound in blood red garments with golden armour that reflected only the light of the sun, it was clear as day who you were aligned with. It was all the information he needed to reach his decision to kill you. Calibrum in hand, he aimed down sights with his rifle, straight for the side of your head...

“Aphelios, wait.”

The voice of Alune rung in his head and his eyebrows furrowed in frustration but he lowered the rifle nonetheless, waiting for his sister's explanation.

“A true member of the Solari would never turn their back to Mount Targon.”

That reason seemed enough as Aphelios watched you in curiosity. There he noticed the inconsistencies. As of now, the Solari controlled most of Targon, so why did you look so dishevelled? Why was your armour so dented, the red clothing so frayed? Why did you desperately try to catch your breath like a prey on the run, constantly on the verge of death if they made the wrong decision? As repulsive as the fiery light of the Solari could be, the light you emanated was more tolerable... soothing, almost.

Your (E/C) orbs scanned the area. You noticed nothing except for the footprints on the ground, no doubt footprints from the Solari. Your fingers traced the tracks, sampling some dirt. Your nose scrunched. Fresh tracks. You took off in the opposite direction.

“Curious... I struggle to read their soul... but I sense goodness in their heart. I sense fear but determination. Follow them and we shall find answers.”

Sheathing his weapon, Aphelios nodded obediently and followed Alune's commands. Spying on you proved harder than expected though as you continuously looked over your shoulder, your blade always at the ready to slay anything that moved. You stayed in the shadows, hiding. However after a few hours of observing your moves, Aphelios managed to learn your body language and habits.

You had gotten too exhausted. Sheathing your weapon, you desperately tried to keep yourself awake by talking through your thoughts.

“Where am I even going?” you started to mutter. “Anyone I'm looking for... I don't know where to start, a map still would've felt nice, though. What if I run into the Lunari? I wonder if they'll accept me if I turn myself in...”

“A wanted Solari... but what was their crime? I don't sense any guilt in their soul,” Alune mused but Aphelios' blood boiled. It seemed typical of the Solari, to commit atrocities without guilt, all for their pride and supposed love of the sun. His mind was decided, he would waste no time slaying you when Alune gives the word.

As the sun disappeared over the horizon and the moon started to rise, you settled by a lake. Collapsing to your knees with a hefty exhale, you cupped the water in your hands to quench the insatiable thirst that made it hard to even breathe. You had left Mount Targon in such a hurry, you didn't have the time to bring any rations with you.

And Aphelios noticed your lack of resources. When he left to find sustenance of his own, he cursed himself for feeling pity for a Solari.

Returning to the edge of the clearing, hidden under the shadows of nightfall, Aphelios watched you as you sat by the lake. You idly let your fingertips swirl along the water, creating ripples that made slivers of moonlight dance among the small waves. You mystified him. The Solari never approved of the night or moon, believing the moon only leached off the true light of the sun. Hating the pale blue light, many Solari would create bonfires or torches, the amber light from the flame giving them solace amidst the white light of the moon. But not you. As you tilted your head up, looking to the large, full moon. Closing your eyes, you seemed to bask in the silver light, letting the spirit of the moon embrace you. Whereas the golden light of the Solari typically clashed with the moon, yours seemed to fuse with the moonlight, blending together. A symbol of peace. How was this possible? How was a Solari, so guiltless in their crimes, be so open to the moon?

“It's a beautiful sight, isn't it?”

Alune's voice interrupted Aphelios' thoughts and he looked up at the full moon, nodding in agreement. It was truly a sight to behold, it was not everyday the sky was so clear, with millions of stars – the many children of the moon – dancing as they twinkled in the darkness.

There was then an amused giggle from his sister.

“Remember that I see the world through your eyes, Phel. For you, the beautiful sight wasn't the moon, was it?”

Aphelios merely huffed as he settled himself down, preparing for a light slumber despite Alune continuing to tease.

“The Solari has awaken.”

Aphelios woke up to Alune's notice and the warm hues of sunrise. You were still by the lake, he assumed you slept under the moonlight. He watched as you knelt by the water, drinking from the lake. He unknowingly took a step forward and you halted your drinking. Eyes narrowed, you spoke with a low and commanding voice that reminded Aphelios you were truly a warrior of the sun.

“I know you're there.”

Aphelios froze. Was he really that conspicuous? He had never failed a mission. But you didn't look to the right where Aphelios hid, instead to the left. You stood to your full height, shoulders square and eyes burning with the fire of Solari. Another Solari stepped out of the shadows, attire similar to yours, albeit cleaner and reflecting the harsh, blinding light of the sun.

“(Y/N) (L/N), one of the most promising children of the sun... once a revered Ra'Horak, one of the highest ranking assassins of the Solari...” the Solari announced.

“Do I know you?” you frowned as you sized the Solari up. Even without the armour he has a hulking figure, at least a foot taller than you and with various weapons strapped to him. Whereas you... the days of being on the run had made your muscles almost nonexistent... you wouldn't even stand a chance of outrunning him.

“I am the newest Ra'Horak, sent off on my first mission.”

“And what is that?”

“The elders want your head and I intend to deliver it on a golden platter.”

Your blood ran cold. You unsheathed your weapon and so did he, just because you might lose doesn't mean you weren't going down without a fight.

“I did nothing wrong!” You argued.

“Then why did you flee?”

“Because you are the ones who consider me wrong.”

“Siding with the Lunari is blasphemy. A crime of the highest order, are you so ignorant that you cannot see that?”

“I just want us to live in peace,” you begged. “As equals. Does the night not last equally as long as the day?”

“Silence!” The Solari bellowed as he charged at you and you barely had the strength to move away. “I will not hear you slander the Solari like this! I will cut out your tongue so it will never be able to speak lies. The Lunari must die.”

“They do not!” You shouted as you parried another attack. You desperately tried to move away, take advantage of your smaller figure as you parried and dodged him but he was simply too fast and strong.

His blade collided with your armour, and although it didn't puncture you, it sent you tumbling face first to the ground. When you mustered the strength to flip onto your back, a blade was already pressed against your neck.

“What are your final words, traitor?” The Solari spat at your face.

“This war won’t end unless you change,” you stated.

The Solari growled, pulling his blade back to stab it into your neck. You closed your eyes, waiting for the numbness of death but it never came. Instead, your eyes opened when you heard an audible thud on the ground. The Solari's blade had fallen from their open palm. The warrior lay in a pool of their own blood, a bullet wound in their head.

A rustle in the bushes and you instinctively lifted your blade, despite the near impossible chances of stopping a bullet. Out of the bushes emerged a lanky, pale man, clad in moonstone armour and weapons, particularly a sniper rifle sitting on his back. Why would the Lunari save you? Nonetheless, knowing this Lunari could kill you just as he did the Solari, you knelt deeply in respect.

“Thank you for saving me,” you murmured earnestly, soft enough to show emotion but loud enough for your rescuer to hear.

Aphelios' eyes darted around nervously as he was unsure of what to do. Seeing such a pure (E/C) gaze up close, scrutinising his face made him realise how long it had been since he properly interacted with someone beyond his sister, let alone a Solari. Heat rose to his face as you watched him patiently, expecting a response. He never regretted giving up his voice for Alune but in that moment, he wished to say something – anything – to you.

You stood up and cleared your throat as the Lunari looked at you blankly.

“Uh... I'm (Y/N)...” you introduced as you raised your hand for a handshake. The air was tense. Two trained assassins from opposing sides, knowing nothing but murdering each other's comrades. To think that they'd be greeting each other so pleasantly.

Aphelios took your hand with a firm shake. Your hand held the sun's warmth but it didn't burn as he thought. He figured his own hand probably felt like ice to yours.

“What's your name?” You asked the Lunari and you watched intently as he traced letters in the air. So for whatever reason, he was unable to speak? Interesting... “A...phel...ios. Aphelios? Right. Thank you, Aphelios.”

You bowed in thanks. Despite your belief of peace, your lack of prior interaction with the Lunari meant there was a little voice of doubt in your mind, if you could ever find common ground with them. But now, your life indebted to a Lunari, that little voice was no longer there.

“Well... I'll be on my way,” you quickly bid goodbye, turning your back to him. But just as quickly as you turned you felt a cold grip on your wrist. Turning back to Aphelios, he cocked his head to the side like a curious puppy, as if asking, on your way to where, exactly?

“I... I don't know. I don't have anywhere to go,” you admitted. “I have abandoned the Solari and the Lunari...”

Aphelios sent a look your way, a look you couldn't read but you doubted it was good. Your voice diminished to a murmur.

“I didn't become a Ra'Horak by letting the Lunari run free.”

Aphelios froze for a few moments, searching your face. As much as he loathed the thought of the Solari, how he loathed the loss of his allies, would he not be a hypocrite? You deserved to kill him as much as he could kill you. However the mournful look on your face told him everything he needed.

Aphelios took your hand and tugged you towards him as he started to walk off. You frowned as you demanded where he was taking you. He traced the air yet again.

Camp.

“I couldn't possibly-”

Aphelios shushed you and you sighed in resignation. His cool skin made you conscious of just how warm you felt, and you were almost certain it wasn't just because you were a Solari.

Feeling your grip in his hand, Aphelios had never felt warmth so comforting before. Now, he understood your clear conscience. The crime that got you banished was the crime of peace, the repentance for your murders. The belief that the Solari and Lunari can stand together warranted your death. You were no traitor. He unconsciously squeezed your hand in reassurance as he thought of your struggles.

Meanwhile, Alune could be heard laughing joyfully in Aphelios' mind.

“Ever the gentleman, Phel. You were so bold to take their hand like that. Don't fret, brother. I approve of them.”

Aphelios prayed to the moon that you didn't notice how his face rivalled the heat of the sun.

[gaycatwizard]

I feel like "bad/flawed characters that are still likeable" are just some of the Best characters and tend to have a bit more emotional staying power, that they're more relatable and more interesting, more memorable. We need more of them, but they're really... hard to do? Not necessarily hard to make, but hard to do well. Because the amount of flaws and Badness (in a moral/philosophical sense, not quality of a character's design and personality) can vary so drastically, along with the amount of redeeming traits and their potency. It can be hard to want to "copy" or mimic the exact ratio from the character that inspired you. Tangent: it's fine to be inspired by one or more works. It's fine to allow it to influence your works. It's hard distinguishing from "I want to do x, but that's basically just rewriting one of my inspirations but with a palette swap" and "this inspires me so I want to use certain elements/themes/ideas/technical aspects of it." That's not the issue here, y'know. But like... I think the sheer variety you can have in Loveable Asshole characters like that, in the ratio of how bad and how good they are, is part of what makes them so interesting, so realistic, so powerful. Like... there are characters who are overall pretty good people, but are rough around the edges in a way that clearly makes them sympathetic and likeable. There are characters who are basically layer upon layer upon layer of mistakes, hatred, and bile with the tiniest nugget of good at the center, that you rarely get a glimpse of, but feel something raw and enthralling because of that. Like... I think Bojack Horseman is a good example, especially because it has a lot of different Likeable Bad People varieties and it does them all really well. Also Bojack Horseman is a good show and, not unlike JoJo's Bizarre Adventure, I want to talk about it at every given opportunity. Bojack himself is a cynical, selfish, destructive, defensive, spiteful, jealous, vain, self-loathing, stubborn piece of shit. He's a bad person and that's... kind of the point of the show. But his entire character, his entire arc that spans the whole of the series, revolves around the diamond buried deep in that rough. He wants to change, but he's so set in his negative ways (and so used to being surrounded by such negativity and toxicity) that he doesn't really know how. Every time he wants to change, he doesn't know how and fails to keep up with his new habits. Every time he's doing well and making progress, some external factor comes in and pushes him violently back down the mountain, back to square one. But he makes an effort, it's very obvious that he doesn't like being this way, that he regrets the things he does, that he feels remorse for the pain he's caused, and he does finally change and improve, things do finally get better for him. His foil (who has such an AMAZING dynamic and relative arc with him I could write a whole essay just on that), Mr. Peanutbutter, is sort of the exact opposite. They have similar careers and positions in the world, but everything goes right for Mr. Peanutbutter. Everyone likes him, everything is handed to him on a silver platter, he's perfect, he's happy, he's attractive, he's popular, he's everything Bojack isn't, and yet somehow he's drawn to Bojack and always wants to try and be his friend. But as Bojack slowly improves over the show and the softer, nicer, Better side of him becomes more and more prominent and common, the negative side of Mr. Peanutbutter slowly gets revealed over the show. He's also selfish and stubborn and stupid and persistent and dangerously disconnected from reality and his interpersonal skills are absolute shit. He puts on that act to make people like him. As the show goes on, it's slowly revealed that he doesn't really pay attention to the wants or needs of others, like, at all. That he only ever really cares about himself and just wants to do and be everything and anything as long as people like him and it makes him happy, regardless of who it hurts. It's amazing. It's in F is

for Family, too. Netflix Adult Animated Sitcoms are very often hit or miss, but these two are absolute homeruns. Frank, the protagonist, of F is for Family is selfish, violent, short-tempered, arrogant, judgmental, ignorant... but he's remorseful and introspective and intelligent and, in a very convoluted and misguided way most of the time, incredibly caring and devoted. He is a piece of shit and he's terrible, and a lot of why he's still likeable, why he's allowed to be so politically incorrect and abusive is due to the setting. Parenting norms were different back then and, now with hindsight, we know that those norms weren't good and you should NEVER hit or yell at or emotionally degrade your kids. The show is a perfect mix of "everyone is a product of their time and environment" and "no matter the time and place, people are people and we have the same thoughts and feelings and struggles," all without glorifying or excusing the terrible actions of the characters with the excuse of the time period or due to being "protagonists" or having redeeming traits. They're human, flawed, some incredibly so, and that's what makes it so good. It's part of why I like F is for Family more than most Adult Animated Family Sitcoms. You've got the typical stupid, selfish, arrogant, etc. Bad Dad and his Housewife, but there's still chemistry. They're still unique, three dimensional characters that clearly love each other and have a reason to still be together despite arguing and hardship. Same with how Frank and Sue treat their kids. They're not great parents, but they're trying to do their best (which isn't always good) and they do clearly love their kids and want the best for them. Their kids are resentful at times and hate their parents for some of the things they do, but they do stick together at the end of the day because there's that underlying realization that none of the mistreatment is done with malicious intent. That doesn't excuse it, but they're all just fucked up and trying to do their best. And they do have sad, relatable characters that are clearly bad people and aren't likeable, despite having sympathetic traits. Like Ginny. Her husband, that she loves dearly, is gay and simply doesn't love her the way she loves him, their marriage is hollow and empty. But she constantly forces her suffering on others, regardless of whether they want to hear it or are emotionally equipped to do so. Attempting to leave the conversation or explain that other people have problems too means, to Ginny, that you're a terrible human being who can't be there for someone in pain or that you're selfish and disgusting and never stop thinking of yourself. She has every right to be upset, but she takes it out on others and manipulates them, and that's not okay, and the show depicts it that way. There are so many options for character arcs with these characters, too. They don't even have to be related to their flaws, they can be entirely external or related to something like relationships or interests. You can show someone working on their flaws, acknowledging that they're not perfect and they might be bad, but that they want to do better and actively try to do so; they don't avoid responsibility or blame others, they own up to it and do their best to improve. Hell, even just coming to the realization that you are responsible for your actions, not anyone else, and that you have to put in effort to change could be that arc. You can have someone get worse, whether an intentional path of bad decisions without regard for others or a failure to understand which decisions are right. Some people have redeeming traits, but still aren't redeemable. Some people don't get better. Some people still get better, but get worse first. There are so many real, relatable options that show the darker, uglier side of life that we so desperately want to experience and perceive (likely due to the cathartic and taboo aspects), and bringing up flaws and shortcomings and anything else in this context can start interesting conversations and challenge

us to think about things we may not have before, or from a new perspective.