#well hopefully not I want to get at least ONE good end among them that’s my goal when the game comes out

[adastra121]

So… I’ve been looking at your MCs… and I’ve made a name for them

JAL

Jin, Alon and Luneth

Lowkey sounds like jail which is where all of them will go but it fits WHEEZE

Or if we go with them being Jail… having a break down is a

✨Jailbreak✨

Wait NO, YOU’RE RIGHT XD

In some alternate universe where they’ve formed a team, their hijinks would absolutely land them in jail. Several times. But it’s fine, Alon can probably break them out.

I love it, thank you!

[thewertsearch]

@relaxxattack asked: hi, maxx the troll romance guy again. ₊ ⊹ ☆ it’s finally my moment for me to bust out my big quadrant talk! as in, i had the time to sit down and write this. (and apologies in advance for subjecting you to this much nerdiness. hopefully, it’s at least somewhat illuminating, to make up for that). i’m not sure what your current opinions on troll romance are, but i wanted to discuss the idea that kismesissitude is inherently unhealthy / impossible to achieve by teenaged trolls. lots of people who read homestuck get very stuck on the idea that kismesissitude is a feeling of hatred. they run with their human assumptions of this word, imagining that a kismesissitude is an angry, horrible relationship of abuse and hurt. but, if you’ll bear with me, it’s actually shown throughout the comic that this is completely untrue. trolls do not use the word hate the same way that we do. in fact, this is pretty obvious, because they also continuously use the word “pity” in a completely different way than we do. each of these are actually more related to a completely different word: LOVE.

you can see, in this initial conversation surrounding quadrants, that trolls consider hate and pity to actually come from the same exact place (though they consider that a negative thing). you can also see in that conversation that you need a good mix of both for any of the quadrants to work. karkat calls vriska out on supposedly “hating people too much” in a way that would “make her a bad kismesis”. this tells us almost immediately off the bat that A. even other trolls consider vriska and tavros’s relationship unbalanced and unhealthy! and B. each quadrant needs a proper mix of emotions for a proper relationship. a lot of people assume that kismeses are “supposed” to kill each other, mainly because of the fate of jack noir and the queen. this, too, is a misunderstanding. jack noir and the queen, like mom and dad who they are explicitly paralleling, are meant to be regarded as tragic. both couples end in tragedy, as expected for almost every “parental figure” in homestuck; this is unrelated to their kismesissitude.

in fact, in this conversation eridan has with kanaya, it is stated that a kismesissitude that ends in deaths is an extremely rare, powerfully tragic romance that happens “once in ten thousand years”– and immediately after, it is stated that a kismesissitude that might become like this needs an auspistice. that’s right, trolls are so committed to healthy kismesissitudes that they have an entire system in place to stop them from becoming toxic. the vriska/kanaya/tavros auspisticism, while a failure on every conceivable level, was born out of the necessity that the other trolls considered vriska’s torment of tavros unhealthy. even among her fellow trolls, in a society that explicitly encouraged casteiesm and ableism, vriska’s treatment of tavros was still considered too toxic for a proper kismesissitude.

vriska and eridan, who were in a kismesissitude before vriska became bored of eridan, were allies in their roleplaying games. much like the ancestors they were emulating, (who even supposedly “cherished” their own black relationship!); they explicitly traded and shared their rewards and goods with each other because of their romantic relationship with each other, and were said to work together in flarp well enough to be feared by others. of course, they also competed with each other to be the best– because they are rivals– but rivalry does not constitute toxticity. they called each other “allies” and “competitors”. not enemies. though perhaps being enemies would be an interesting kismesis slowburn; in the end, two kismesis should not kill each other. they are on the same team. how could they not be, when trolls believe in one troll who is literally destined to be their perfect rival, a life partner who they must have a long-term relationship with in order to properly meet the alternian drone rules? killing each other makes no feasible sense.

as vriska and eridan talk about here, a rivalry between trolls is something fun for both of them. that is why they must hate each other “equally”-- they need to feel on equal footing, so that they can both have fun. that’s what a rivalry is for trolls. it’s fun! (fun fact: another definition of the word "rival" is "an equal"). (eridan’s pitch solicitation towards sollux is absolutely laughable in comparison. he throws meaningless, casteist insults, and sollux does not give a single fuck about him. as other trolls mention; this is very obviously fake. they are clearly not feeling anything mutual or respectful for each other. he merely is trying to goad feferi into an ashen retaliation with his shitty pitch advances, and it’s not even working.) and that brings me finally to john and karkat. i remember seeing confusion on this blog about the nature of karkat’s feelings– 'why is he helping john? doesn’t he ‘hate’ him? he must not REALLY feel pitch romance for him, and he’s just confused.' well you see, that’s the thing. the reason karkat’s first message to john was a love poem is because that is what kismesissitude is. it was karkat’s way of saying; “you’re special to me. i would like to bug you to see if you feel the same way.” it’s not as if strangely romantic healthy rivalries between teenagers are even an unheard of or new concept. they’re fairly common in television shows and anime; hell there’s even multiple tvtropes pages for them! it’s not impossible that two people in a story could have a healthy rivalry fun enough that they both end up missing it should it be gone. (looking at you, perry and doof.) it’s even more likely that teenagers, as vibrant and strange as their many emotions can be, could pull this off. of course, they make lots of mistakes. they’re young teenagers raised on the murder ableism planet. of course most of the shit they try to do is unhealthy. they make just as many earth-like mistakes with their hearts as they do with their spades. that doesn’t mean it’s impossible for them, or bad for them to try. especially since pairs like vriska and eridan seem to have even pulled it off! basically, what i’m saying is, they’re like sasuke and naruto (reference). let teenagers have hatecrushes! it’s cuter than you think! :P [if it isn’t obvious, this is all super lighthearted and silly. unfortunately it’s my brand to be the guy who’s REALLY passionate about troll romance. i sincerely hope this wasn’t too hard to read, and i’m really sorry about submitting such a long thing, but i couldn’t manage to cut it down any further 😭 have a great rest of your night/day!]

(Images added by me - partially for illustrative purposes, and partially because Tumblr tends to complain when a single block-quote is that large.)

Love love love this detailed breakdown. It outlines a blackrom framework which is a lot more nuanced than the infodump's original description of kismesissitude. There's a lot of really interesting stuff here, and I've actually been working on this response for the past week, while AFKing on my Minecraft server.

As you can imagine, I agree with many of the points raised here, and disagree with others. I think the best approach is to go through the essay point-by-point, and break down my thoughts.

lots of people who read homestuck get very stuck on the idea that kismesissitude is a feeling of hatred[...], imagining that a kismesissitude is an angry, horrible relationship of abuse and hurt. [...] it’s actually shown throughout the comic that this is completely untrue. trolls do not use the word hate the same way that we do. [...]

This one I just fully agree with. The Alternian concept of 'hate' isn't equivalent to ours, and they'll often use it in ways that are completely incompatible with our definition.

When Karkat 'fell in hate' with John, his actual antagonism was very obviously performative. As you mentioned above, several parts of his original rant wouldn't look out of place in a love confession.

Karkat doesn't just message John out of temporal obligation. There's a clear sense, even in their early conversations, that he's enjoying their interactions on some level. If his feelings here really are black romance - and there's no textual evidence that they're not - then this alone is enough to prove kismesissitude isn't true human hatred.

The trolls also use 'hate' in the human sense, too, which muddies the waters a little. It's even highlighted as a problem in-comic, with trolls having to disambiguate their hatred in conversation in much the same way humans disambiguate between platonic and romantic love.

they also continuously use the word “pity” in a completely different way than we do. each of these are actually more related to a completely different word: LOVE. you can see, in this initial conversation surrounding quadrants, that trolls consider hate and pity to actually come from the same exact place (though they consider that a negative thing).

As for pity, I'm still not entirely sure what it means to trolls. Unlike hate, it's only been brought up once, by Karkat.

His 'hate and pity' dichotomy isn't referenced anywhere else in the comic, and it's unclear whether he's describing an accepted fact of life, a sociological theory, or a trope from his beloved romcoms. I don't really have enough data to speculate.

you can also see in that conversation that you need a good mix of both for any of the quadrants to work. karkat calls vriska out on supposedly “hating people too much” in a way that would “make her a bad kismesis”. this tells us almost immediately off the bat that [...] each quadrant needs a proper mix of emotions for a proper relationship.

I believe your assertion here is that each quadrant requires both hate and pity. While definitely an interesting theory, I wasn't able to find canonical evidence that a healthy redrom requires hatred, or that a healthy blackrom requires pity.

I meant what I said, though - it is a compelling theory. If we do read troll 'hatred' as a type of friendly rivalry, then maybe it is important in redrom, serving as the 'spark' that keeps things fresh. Furthermore, if we read 'pity' as something bordering on affection, then it probably is necessary for a healthy blackrom.

I really like the space you're playing in, here. There is something to this idea, and I'd love for Karkat to elaborate on it.

[...] even other trolls consider vriska and tavros’s relationship unbalanced and unhealthy!

Text it! If the full Vriska/Tavros mess was public knowledge, basically everyone would consider Vriska's behavior beyond atrocious, blackrom or no blackrom. I'm not even sure if Eridan would be OK with it - and Gamzee, of course, is currently excluded from this discussion.

If the Veil's trolls are a representative sample of Alternian culture, then Vriska's 'blackrom' with Tavros is just as abusive there as it would have been on Earth. Even Alternia has limits.

a lot of people assume that kismeses are “supposed” to kill each other, mainly because of the fate of jack noir and the queen. this, too, is a misunderstanding. jack noir and the queen, like mom and dad who they are explicitly paralleling, are meant to be regarded as tragic. both couples end in tragedy, as expected for almost every “parental figure” in homestuck; this is unrelated to their kismesissitude. in fact, in this conversation eridan has with kanaya, it is stated that a kismesissitude that ends in deaths is an extremely rare, powerfully tragic romance that happens “once in ten thousand years”

This tracks, as well. If blackrom was allowed to end with murder, then there'd be a lot less soldiers being ferried off the planet every year. Alternian children are a resource to the Empire, and more murder-couples means less murder-platoons.

Vriska does think it would be acceptable for her to murder Tavros, but she frames it as a consequence of classism, not blackrom. This would be much more acceptable to the Empire, as a blueblood like Vriska is destined to be a high-ranking officer. She's not killing a partner, here - she's punishing insubordination.

– and immediately after, it is stated that a kismesissitude that might become like this needs an auspistice. that’s right, trolls are so committed to healthy kismesissitudes that they have an entire system in place to stop them from becoming toxic. the vriska/kanaya/tavros auspisticism, while a failure on every conceivable level, was born out of the necessity that the other trolls considered vriska’s torment of tavros unhealthy. even among her fellow trolls, in a society that explicitly encouraged casteiesm and ableism, vriska’s treatment of tavros was still considered too toxic for a proper kismesissitude.

I won't second-guess the utility of auspisticism in situations like this. It makes perfect sense that the role exists, and it certainly does an important job.

However, once again, I really don't understand the monogamy aspect. Helping a loved one escape a toxic or abusive relationship should not be a one-person job, and enforcing that requirement serves to sabotage what could have been a much more effective social role.

Like - imagine that, upon becoming VrisTav's auspistice, Kanaya's first action was to call for backup. If she was allowed to introduce additional auspistices to the situation, such as Aradia or Terezi, then Vriska wouldn't have been able to continue tormenting Tavros as soon as Kanaya turned her back. It takes a village, guys!

vriska and eridan, who were in a kismesissitude before vriska became bored of eridan, were allies in their roleplaying games. much like the ancestors they were emulating, (who even supposedly “cherished” their own black relationship!); they explicitly traded and shared their rewards and goods with each other because of their romantic relationship with each other, and were said to work together in flarp well enough to be feared by others. of course, they also competed with each other to be the best– because they are rivals– but rivalry does not constitute toxticity. they called each other “allies” and “competitors”. not enemies. [...] as vriska and eridan talk about here, a rivalry between trolls is something fun for both of them. that is why they must hate each other “equally”-- they need to feel on equal footing, so that they can both have fun. that’s what a rivalry is for trolls. it’s fun!

Eridan/Vriska is a relationship I wish we'd seen on-panel, because this one is really hard to picture. Eridan's personality doesn't feel at all compatible with Vriska's, and I don't understand what she saw in him.

Vriska is one of the smartest, most resourceful, most dangerous trolls around, and there was apparently a time she thought of Eridan as a rival. As an equal. All he really has to offer is an overpowered weapon, and Vriska's already got one of those.

Sure, she got bored later, but unless Eridan has some extremely hidden depths, she should have been bored from day one. How did their rivalry even work?

I think the problem here is that we haven't seen any non-toxic kismesissitudes. Vriska/Tavros is a nightmare, Equius/Aradia was mind control, Eridan/Vriska happened offscreen, and John/Karkat never happened at all. It's difficult to extrapolate what a non-awful kismesissitude might look like, when we've only seen the worst the quadrant has to offer. Actually seeing Vriska's spades with Eridan, instead of having it described second-hand, might help to clear this up, but that seems fairly unlikely at this point.

This, at least, is a problem that might solve itself. We've still got a lot of comic to go, and the passion its fandom has for the quadrants makes it clear that they're not going anywhere. I don't think I'll be able to pass my final judgement on kismesissitude until we've seen one that actually works. I really like the idea of a romance centered around friendly rivalry - I just wish the comic would show me one!

and that brings me finally to john and karkat. i remember seeing confusion on this blog about the nature of karkat’s feelings– 'why is he helping john? doesn’t he ‘hate’ him? he must not REALLY feel pitch romance for him, and he’s just confused.' well you see, that’s the thing. the reason karkat’s first message to john was a love poem is because that is what kismesissitude is. it was karkat’s way of saying; “you’re special to me. i would like to bug you to see if you feel the same way.” it’s not as if strangely romantic healthy rivalries between teenagers are even an unheard of or new concept. they’re fairly common in television shows and anime; hell there’s even multiple tvtropes pages for them! it’s not impossible that two people in a story could have a healthy rivalry fun enough that they both end up missing it should it be gone. (looking at you, perry and doof.)

Like, this sounds cool! You're describing a really fun version of kismesissitude, here - one which brings to mind Wright and Edgeworth, Sonic and Shadow, and a dozen other popular couples.

This interpretation would be less dangerous for teenagers - it certainly worked for Lumity - and again, I just hope we eventually see something like this on-panel!

[funficwriter]

A Wolf and A Snake (Wriothesley x Reader)

Chapter 3: In the Low Gardens

A/N: Thank you all so much for being patient with me! I wanted this chapter to be fun to read, but had so little time to write this week. I just hope I have a little more freedom in the future. Anyways, enjoy!

Synopsis: Being a noble meant that marriage was a chess game, not an affair of love. Unfortunately for the pristine Balthazar family of Fontaine, Y/N has long been enamored with love and sought it out before their priorities. After her grey, boring time of courtesy, she meets Duke Wriothesley, who makes her yearn for the first time in her life, and it's the same for him. Threatened by the idea of losing this first, it seems they'll stop at very little to be together...

Taglist: @yue-caelum, @reyy-chanx, @mis-disaster, @ladyarchiviste, @keigo-hawks-takami-simp

Warnings: Talk of murder/violence/corruption, yandere talk, Wrio gets a lil primal, a few smutty details, does scheming behind the back count as a warning? Lol

----------------------------------------

Your parents were not the type to sing, least of all sing to express joy. But whenever they peered at you from the balcony, they looked like they could explode in song any minute. They never looked as jubilant, as proud of their daughter as they saw her, arm linked with the chivalrous and gentle Duke Archandelle.

You supposed any other girl would kill to be in your place. Duke Archandelle hailed from a long and well-respected lineage, and made a fortune for both himself and Fontaine's economy through his commerce. He was rather handsome, had a voice described as 'light honey with mint', and towered over you, the lady he was going to protect with that advantage. Hopefully, for the rest of your lives. On top of that, he was cultured, up-to-date with Fontaine's classical and modern trends, but was no pansy; He was an excellent swordfighter and hunter. You almost heard their voices yelling at you: "You've got the perfect gentleman falling at your feet, and you're not grateful?! How dare you!".

There you two were, in one of your manor's many gardens. This was the highest, prettiest one of all, and had a lovely table among the flowers where you would soon take your tea. Both of you were well-dressed, engaged in conversation (he carried most of it) and took tiny steps to ensure it stayed that way. You looked like the perfect royal Fontainian couple. Add on the fact that Archandelle has decreed himself 'fervently in love' with you, and didn't look like he was going to give up... No wonder your parents were probably even happier than they were on their own wedding day.

'Fervently in love', my ass. If I wasn't so angry, I'd laugh. Maybe with his stupid monologues or my last name's history book... My Wriothesley could teach him a thing or two about love.

"And I say, it was so dastardly for them to write that ending! I mean, to let these filthy 'protagonists' get away with their crimes! I can think of youngsters reading this novel. What will they think? How are we raising them and- My dear, are you with me?".

The funny thing about his tirades was how they can be condensed to the same strand of puritanism, either outrageous or righteous. You barely had to listen and should he feel testy, you had an answer.

"Ah, forgive me, my dear Duke. I was just appalled at the text, to the point where I didn't know what to say. But do know I'm in full agreement!".

He beamed: "Why, of course you are. Your parents raised a fine and virtuous young lady who knows right from wrong.".

Your agreement seemed to have calmed him down. He stopped to take your hand and kiss it.

"One of the countless reasons I fell in love with you.".

Liar!

You wished you could shut him up. As he embodied the peak of your social class, he also had all the ideas you wanted to criticize as loud as you can, but couldn't risk. One of them was this picking on cultural output not based on whether it was good, whether they liked it, but whether it was 'moral' or not. What's more is the power they hold. Should something not be 'moral', that would mean another secret trip to the bookstore for you, before it got fully banned.

Though you couldn't shut him up, you had two tools up your arsenal: The first was thinking of Wriothesley, which made you surprisingly more patient than you imagined. The second was hearing Archandelle be less of a whiner, more of an admirer.

"Say, my Lord, surely you've seen some good plays where this doesn't happen, right? I'm sure we'll all need good recommendations.".

Once again, he beamed, and you could tell he was restricting himself from being too physical. But perhaps he felt a bit more daring, because he put an arm around your waist and carried on walking, while talking about 'good' plays he's seen (which you were sure were total dogshit if it came from him.).

The butler had called you for tea time. It wasn't the day for your favorite dessert, but a quick wink from Agatha, who was passing by, let you know who twisted his arm into bending the unofficial rule. You felt a bit of remorse for not being able to tell her who you really liked, but you decided to do it when you were in a more secure position with Wriothesley.

-----------------------------------------------------

Curse whoever decided that falling in love with a half-wolf (or any hybrid, for that matter) was a curse, and bless your own canine lover for using his affinity towards the night to pick this one. The stars shined along with the soft moon, with only a few cloudy wisps passing by. The air was crisp, cooling but not so much that you had to stay in.

The hour struck. Your heart did a leap so brusque, you had to take a deep breath. The clock said it all: It was time.

You picked a simple dress for your rendez-voux; Flattering, but no hassle. Your mother wasn't fond of it, because she thought it didn't 'do justice to your beauty'. Another one of millions of differences between you two, separating her and your father into the loud and showy sun, while you counted the minutes until you could entangle your hand into his under the moon. Though everyone slept, the night was still young... Should you desire it, would more than that happen?

No one could police your desires if you thought of them.

Let him hold me again. Let him hold me securely, claiming me as his under the full moon as his own culture decrees. I'm asking a lot... But please, let him kiss me before Duke Archandelle does and let him scream it out to the world so it could throw me into his arms.

As you made your way down, your reverie was only interrupted when you passed by your elder brother's room. Being married, he split his time between his new villa and your manor. You weren't looking forward to his next visit, especially when he caught wind of your 'engagement' with Duke Archandelle and sent you a long, pompous letter congratulating you as his 'equally prestigious sister, upholding the Balthazar's powerful unions'. Ugh.

In retrospect, perhaps you should have hurried along; Just after you continued, you bumped into a curvaceous figure you knew well (after all, she held you more than your mother) and made an audible "Ow!".

So much for not being caught, least of all by your own hissing governess. Should you be caught, she'd surely get heat for not making sure you were in bed.

"Y/N! What are you doing out of bed? You have lessons tomorrow, don't you?".

As she talked, she pulled you away from your brother's door and the bedrooms of the floor. After all, she was just in as much danger as you were.

"Agatha! Hey, um... I was... I was going down to grab a glass of water. I'm thirsty.".

Forget the fact that you weren't in your sleeping attire and that your voice was racked in nerve. How could you have hoped to lie to her, your true mother figure who knew every inkling of you hiding something on your face? Her quirked-up brows clearly let you know that she didn't buy it, but what really made you want to spill the beans was the slight glimmer in her eyes: She was hurt by you lying to her.

"Really, Y/N? After all those years, you think I'd believe that? I have raised you as my own, yet you act as if I were hired this morning.".

"Agatha, I'm so sorry. Please don't be sad, I'll tell you but...".

You couldn't believe it; You were about to tell someone that you were seeing another man behind your arranged partner's back. It would be one thing if he were some king and your parents were idiots at making their final verdict. But you were seeing Duke Wriothesley of Meropide. You were seeing a wolf-hybrid, a dangerous kind to human beings (even though you'd argue that correlation does not equal causation). You were seeing a prison warden, a polite but hardy, brutish man.

Agatha could sense that your secret was a big one. She ran a hand through your head: "My dear, I've always kept your secrets, haven't I? What is so scary that you would hide it from me of all people?".

"Oh, Agatha, it's not scary at all. It's wonderful and lovely and beautiful. It makes me get out of bed with hope in my heart. it sends me to sleep as the happiest girl of Teyvat.".

Her face broke out into a smile: "By Focalors! What is it then?".

"But I'm the only one who sees it that way! It's not scary to me at all. He brings me all the joy in my life, and yet if anyone found out that would spell the end of me and him! Agatha, why did you have to be up tonight of all nights?".

A moment of silence eclipsed, you wallowing in the realization that you gave her a hint. In both your hearts, you felt that she knew you didn't like Duke Archandelle, as with most royal women. But to go to the lengths of seeing another man... Did she think you had it in you?

"Who is he, Y/N?".

"Duke Wriothesley of Meropide. We snuck by the last two socials, and we were planning to meet up tonight in the low gardens.".

You could see the shock in her face. Anyone would be, pairing you with him of all gentlemen. You couldn't blame her. If anything, you wanted to burst in tears, put your head at her feet and thank her for her tolerance. Rather than alerting even the most insignificant servant in the house, she patted your hand and stayed.

"Does he make you happy?".

"Yes. Happy enough to live.".

"That's a lot of happiness. A level you've always deserved, but if you're honest, only recently acquired. If at last my prayers for your joy are answered and they come in his form, who am I to judge you?".

A small, meek smile made its way on her face. You threw your arms around her shoulders.

"Thank you, Agatha, thank you!".

She helped you up, then looked out of the window. Whether it was at the skies or the gardens below, you couldn't tell nor had the time to ask. She grabbed your hand and continued the way downstairs.

"Let's not keep him waiting.".

------------------------------------------------------------------

You stepped out, feeling light and relaxed under the cool moon. Then there he was: Your very own prince charming, who was expectantly waiting in front of the garden's backdoor. His ears perked up. Once he saw you, your time of admiration from afar was over. A few loud steps resonated before you felt his embrace engulf you, and at last you were in his arms and everything felt (was) alright.

What made it better was his reciprocation; From the big, dumb smile, to the twitching ears (how cute!) to the feeling of his strong muscles protecting you from whatever misery could strike you right then and there...

"If I told you of how much my heart screamed out for you, you wouldn't hear the end of it.".

He kissed your hand as per usual. You supposed that if you wanted more, you had to catalyze it yourself: "I don't want to hear its end, Wriothesley.".

You didn't have to hear it, for you were still held against him. His heart was beating frenetically, reverberating into your own body.

Only when he looked up and saw Agatha, that wonder dwindled.

"What the... Who are you?".

"Wait, Wrio. She's on our side. She's the only one who supports our romance.".

He let out a small 'oh', trying to relax but with worry clear on his face. Agatha, being ever so talented at soothing, stepped in.

"Greeting, Lord Wriothesley. I am Y/N's governess. Forgive me for being out, I wasn't supposed to know of this. I just caught her by accident, but I promise I won't tell a soul.".

He took a moment before speaking up: "Agatha? Oh, Y/N has mentioned you before. In that case, I'm glad it was you who caught her, and no one else. And thank you for keeping up the secrecy, though it won't be that way forever. I intend to marry her, one way or another.".

"Frankly, anyone who can take care of her and makes her happy is great, in my opinion.".

Her warm, motherly smile has lowered many people's guards. You could tell his worry was fading away, knowing she could be trusted. He nodded one more time, and off you two went. The good thing about the low gardens was the fact that unless someone was close, no one could hear you. It was the 'abandoned' garden per se. While it wasn't as grand as the higher ones, it had many beautiful flowers, a lake, and you could never uncouple your memories of playing hide-and-seek there with Agatha or your friends.

But nevertheless, it didn't stop your displeasure at the fact that you weren't recognized at his yet. You wanted to show all of Teyvat who you really loved, who had the right to call you 'mine'.

"I wish... I wish I could have shown you the higher gardens.".

He squeezed your hand and you looked up to him. You could have died with the beautiful vision in front of you: Did the moon make his piercing eyes glow better, or was that just you?

"My love, there will be a day where we can stroll out in the open, in whatever garden you want. And besides...".

He looked on his surroundings as you kept walking, now linking arms.

"I like the secrecy aspect that comes with this one. It's like... Like our social world doesn't want you to be mine. And yet here and now, you are. Always were, always will be.".

It made you blush. It only got worse when you wanted to tuck a piece of hair, and he caught a glance at the wolf bracelet: "And from the looks of it, you want to be all mine, don't you?".

"Oh, yes. I wear it all the time Father isn't around. I'm sorry if I was morose earlier. It's the fact that I can't stand being someone else's fiancée, especially when I had no say in the matter.".

"Don't beat yourself up. I know well that we're on the same wavelength. I'm already scheming on it, too...".

While you loved talking about being his, you knew that alone wasn't enough. There had to be some sort of plan, some idea as to how he'd get you. And much to your happiness, he wasn't empty-headed to doom you to just keeping your affair, an affair. You leaned close to listen.

"So I'm presuming he wants to marry you because of your family name, yes? Like all other shitty noble marriages...".

You laughed a bit: "That's the one.".

"I already have an investigator to look further into his. Depending on whether he committed serious crime, going above the general corruption that's too often seen and brushed aside, you as his future wife have the right to file for a 'Motion of Marital Worry'. Then the Court could look into how that may affect you, and thus stop you from marrying him even if your father objects.".

This was... Wonderful.

"Why, Wriothesley, I love a man who's proactive! But I have one worry about this plan: Fontaine may be less corrupt than other nations, but there's still crime that's deemed as 'not serious', especially from our class. What if they bribe someone? That's what always happens.".

"Nah, don't worry. I myself am well acquainted with some... Important figures in the judicial system. They'll be sure to look out for such a motion with your name or mine on it. And if the crime is very serious, there's no way they'll turn their head.".

He stopped walking, letting the soft howl of the wind play out before continuing: "And anyways, that's only the first plan. I've got more ideas in case it doesn't work.".

"You really think ahead, eh?".

"If it concerns you? I think about it all the time. Even my sleep is yours.".

All the time. All the time, for me. This union was nothing like the trash your father wanted to force you in. In the other one, you belonged to Archandelle, but contrary to his spiel about love, he didn't belong to you. Maybe not other women if he were 'loyal', but you saw his attitude towards seeing you as a Balthazar, versus seeing you as... You. He really only belonged to himself.

"Don't worry. If he didn't do anything, I'll just make him. If his hand is clean, I'll twist it until it bleeds then yell bloody murder until he's sentenced for life.".

Wriothesley long made it clear, and he kept making it clear to reassure you. His loving gaze, his obsession, his thought of you that went as far as remembering everything you've ever loved or told him (and believe me, it's a lot) said it all: He belonged to you, and you belonged to him, as true love should be.

You stroked his cheek, taking in his eyes as he did yours: "And when you twist him into the wrangled, bloody mess you can make... I'll cheer you on. I'll praise like I'm watching the greatest of theater.".

Perhaps it was the fact that everything has been so dreary, or that the full moon just made people playful, but you broke away from him, your arms brusquely rejecting him and giving you distance. His stunned look hurt you a bit, but the fun you wanted was priceless.

"But Duke Wriothesley, the prince must always fight hard for the one he desires, yes?".

His boot made a quiet crunch as he approached you, and you took a step back. In a way, it was fun, withholding yourself from him as he ached for you. However, he reciprocated your playful smirk, understanding what your intention was. As you stepped back, you did the occasional twirl as your dress flowed with the moon's shine.

Teasing him was so fun: "Aren't I right? Isn't what he desires most, the most guarded and forbidden by everyone else? Shouldn't he be ready to do anything if he loves the princess that much?".

"My... Are you underestimating the limits I'll break to call you my wife? While I try to be calm to avoid prejudice, I have no issue tuning into my violent side if it's for you.".

The string snapped. You turned back and ran off: "We'll see about that, Your Grace!".

How long has it been since you ran? You forgot the freedom, the breeziness it offered.

"I'll make you see, alright!"

But that wasn't where your true excitement laid. It was the quicker, heavier crunching sound right behind you.

Off the wolf went, chasing down his partner. He had the advantage of being fit, and his hybrid blood granting him more speed than the average human. But you were also flighty and you knew the garden better than he did. Whenever he thought he had you, you ran back another corner, and even pulled your tongue at him if he was far enough.

At some point, you hid close to the lake. He had not reached this area yet, so you were safe to catch your breath. If only this could last beyond your couple of hours together! Not even factoring the end yet, you thought of him, smiling and chasing you both literally and figuratively. Only when you looked down to check on your dress, did you notice your legs clenching tight and the sudden warmth, the higher you went...

Perhaps you should have remembered that you were still being chased, ergo had no more time than a few quick breaths. You didn't hear the rustle of the bushes. Before you knew it, large hands grabbed your waist and their owner let out a victorious growl, lifting you up.

"Oh no, the wolf got me!".

"Damn right, he did! Now you're his to devour!".

He wanted to carry on, but a loving state always reduces one to recklessness. He tripped on a pebble, but made sure to switch so he'd take the fall rather than you. Thankfully, it wasn't as bad as he expected.

"Wriothesley, my dear! Are you okay?".

He chuckled at your worried face: "Nah, don't worry. It was way softer than I expected. Hah...".

A crimson blush spread upon both of your faces (but especially yours). It just dawned on you: You were on top of him, like on his body, and the chase excited him in the same way it did you. His red cheeks and the hard poke you felt against your thigh said it all.

"Archons, I... I'm so sorry, Y/N. I tend to enjoy that sort of stuff, running around and chasing...".

"It's okay... I enjoyed it, too...".

The time stopped when you (slowly, yet surely) shook off the awkwardness, as you sat up in his lap. How do you proceed from there? How do you deal with feeling so clueless in what you want? You barely processed that, as you ran a hesitant hand through his hair.

"I really like your ears.".

"There it is.".

His arms tightened around your waist as he replayed the phrase in his head: "I really like your ears.". And you liked his dark attire above all the others'. And you liked his voice and his way of comportment, and by Focalors, you were madly in love with the human and wolf halves of him, never conditionally or pretending some part of him did not exist.

In the midst of this prolonged yearning, you two could no longer wait. He leaned down and sealed his promises with the kiss you've long thought of and saved just for him.

The full moon made its appearance on the lake reflection. The wind rustled the plants around you a bit. Unbelieving that this was actually happening, you pulled him in closer, wishing you could merge your bodies together. Even when you were dipping slower, slower into the ground, you knew he wouldn't let you fall harshly. You knew his tight grip was ever present to protect you from that or any other dangers, and its warmth of love and appreciation was only for you.

And you took in his mint breath, each time breathing in more and more. You were starved for your lover, and so was he, keeping you in his arms and away from a world that wanted you two apart. It already did enough of that throughout the day. The night was yours.

You two broke away, panting and looking into each other's diluted pupils. Sometimes, you couldn't believe how being with him was like having your own puppy. He whispered: "I love you with the marrow of my bones.", before dipping his head into your neck to kiss it. If marrying him, sharing the same bed, meant you could nuzzle your face into his fluffy hair, you had another reason to fight away from your other suitor.

Happy with its softness against your running hand and face, and his sweet kisses, you couldn't help but purr out: "I can't wait until... Until we can do this all the time, whenever we want.".

"Hah... And that time will come. I've already handed so much to the world, I'm not handing you out too.".

He looked up at the sky to tell the time, then chuckled in a morose manner: "Time sure flies by when I'm with you. It's like I lose control over it so easily.".

He made a sad, but true point; For one, you had to head back into your chambers, because dawn would emerge soon enough and you needed time to change, actually sleep... There was also the fact that even if he got onto the active part of taking you from your father and Archandelle (funny, you just remembered his name), your parents would probably want to have you married soon. Time was of the essence, and that essence was short-lived and impossible to take back.

As he walked you back to the backdoor, hands squeezed tight, he leaned in: "My dear, can I ask you for a favor?".

"Of course. Anything for you.".

"Next time you have to meet that idiot your parents call 'your fiancé', look at whether he behaves out of the norm. Specifically, if he's nervous or uncomfortable. Or maybe if he talks more about politics.".

"I see...".

"Nobles who feel like they have something to hide always act like that. Depending on what's found against him, he could be called for questioning. That's enough to cause unrest.".

You laughed: "As with every other noble guy. You'll probably find worse skeletons in my father's closet.".

"The question isn't whether there are skeletons. It's how you use them.".

You liked that idea a lot, enough to make you smirk. Now that you thought about it, there were many 'skeletons' around you, especially those belonging to your father. And now, you were growing into a position where you could use them, where you could be as knowledgeable in the law as Wriothesley and use it to your advantage. Sure, that might get you called 'disgraceful', but you'd be ripping yourself away from them faster, ergo into your lover. And if Fontaine was all about fairness, what was happening to you was unfair. You were just rectifying an error.

"Uh-oh. My mischievous darling is smiling like that of all ways. What do you have in mind?".

"I just liked what you said. It feels a lot like how the world works.".

"It's not far off.".

Agatha was sitting down next to the backdoor. She stood up and bowed, but her smile grew bigger when she caught sight of your intertwined hands. You felt very lucky to have her by your side.

Before bidding goodnights, Wriothesley turned you to him, and kissed you one more time, before stroking a strand of hair from your face: "Dream of me. Let us meet in the realm of sleep and continue this, until we won't have to dream anymore.".

"I promise.".

Much to your heavy heart, you headed back in, and he was off to the nearest teleportation waypoint. The ending of your meetings always brought sadness to your heart, but he worked so hard for a reason; He would rather die than you two not be together. His very passion was you, and you knew that if he was yours, some things had to be done. And you were sure that could happen, starting with the favor.

---------------------------------

"Y/N, you said he made you the happiest girl of Teyvat?".

"Yes.".

"Well, you sure look like that right now! How was it?".

[wolfish-trickster]

Unknown, Uni, Us

University AU

Choso x female!reader

3/?

Word count: 2,6K

Summary: after entering university and taking down your rose tinted glasses you saw how ugly your highschool friends' personalities really were. You even start to think you'll spend the rest of your university life all alone. Little did you know you caught the eye of a quiet goth guy with a reputation. Will your heart be ever able to trust someone, anyone, again?

Warnings: typos, angst, fluff, slowburn, slow beginings, slightly ooc

Taglist: @onebatch--twobatch @theirlgarfield

Next day rolled around faster than you expected. Thankfully today's classes aren't starting sooner than noon so you have enough time for yourself. And also to mentally prepare yourself for a certain someone.

After spending some time with Choso's actual friends you didn't see him as threatening as before, rumors about him be damned. He introduced you to his younger brother Yuji, told you about Yuji's twin Sukuna, and after seeing how much love he holds for both of them you quickly forgot about everything you heard about him from others. Almost.

His resting 'I'll kill you if you even sneeze in a way I don't like' face still causes shivers to run down your spine. And you've only known him for what, a day? You got to be careful.

After laying in your bed and thinking about the goth guy for about an hour you finally decided to get up and properly start the day. You locked yourself in the bathroom for nearly half an hour. It didn't bother anyone since both of your parents were in their jobs anyways. You didn't mind, you liked being alone. Or rather, were conditioned to like it. It's the only thing you've ever known.

You brushed your teeth, scrubbed your face with one of your mom's gels, you even attempted to style your hair. Stuff you usually didn't bother to do unless you were going outside among other peaople. This was just school. You saw people walk in ripped sweatpants on the regular, you yourself wasn't better, prioritizing comfort over looking pretty. So why were you standing infront of your wardrobe and for the first time in your life thought 'damn, I got nothing to wear'. Was this because you had someone you were hoping to see? Or hoping for him to see you?

You shook your head in an attempt to throw all of these unwanted thoughts about Choso out of your head. He's only being nice to you, nothing else. You can't get this attached to everyone who shows you common decency.

"Fuck it," you exclaimed and threw on your go to whenever you wanted to look nicer than usual: beige wide pants and fluffy striped white and blue sweater. It started to snow outside, that sweater will warm you up nicely in the freezing auditorium.

In the end it was a good deciosion not to style your hair. When you finally arrived at school your hair was not only damp from the melting snow but also blown to all directions. Next time you'll bring a hat as well and won't rely only on your jacket's hood.

There wasn't a single person infront of the auditorium. You arrived ridiculously early again. At least it gave you some time to groom yourself in the bathroom. As nasty as uni's toilets were they had mirrors. Using your fingers you combed your hair down and shook out the wetness as much as you could. Hopefully it'll dry up before anyone can see you.

Returning back to wait for the class yoh noticed a small group of people already standing there and chatting. Maybe they had a class prior to this one. You shrugged and sat down. You didn't know any of them. No need to socialize.

Before you could even pull out your sketchbook you felt someone sit down next to you. "Hey."

You jumped. Did you do something wrong? You looked up and saw Choso. His hair and clothes were completely dry. He must be part of that group of people standing afar. "Oh, hey," you smiled at him.

"Killing time again?" he tapped your empty pages.

You nodded. "I got here a little too early, so."

He hummed. "I guess you had nothing before this class, huh?"

"Yeah, do you belong to them?" you pointed behind him at the chattering group.

"Unfortunately."

"Unfortunately? Why?" you tilted your head. "They look okay."

"Half of them are going on my nerves and I hardly know the other half," he leaned his forearms on his thighs. "I don't know how I'll survive the next few years with them."

"Oh don't worry," you patted him on his bent back, "the group arrangements are changing every semester."

"Oh thank fuck," he threw his head back and finally smiled. Such a cute smile on such a scary looking face looks both uncanny and to die for at the same time. Such a shame you can't take a picture right now.

Suddenly he turned his head to you and you quickly pulled your hand from his back. "Maybe we'll be in the same group next semester?"

You chuckled but knew you didn't have that kind of luck. "Yeah, maybe."

Still softly smiling he fully leaned against the backrest. He really was cute for a goth. In the corner of your eye you saw the group pointing at you and him and whispering to eachother. You looked at them fully which made them form a circle showing you their backs, still whispering. Quickly before Choso could hear you asked him: "are you leaving for the Christmas?"

He opened his eye and looked at you. "No, why?"

You shrugged. "No reason, just wanted to know more about you."

"That's sweet," he remarked and sat up straighter, no longer leaning back. "I live here so I'm not going anywhere."

"Oh how nice, me too!" you turned your whole body to face him, "maybe we've met eachother before. Which elementary school did you attend? You didn't go to ky highschool, that's for sure," you thought outloud. How funny would it be if the two of you have played as children a long time ago.

"Oh I didn't grow up here," he corrected. "My parents lived on a completely opposite side of the state. I moved here after Yuji and Sukuna started attending highschool."

"Oh," you cringed at how stupidly mistaken you were. "What happened to your parents? You don't talk anymore?"

"They died."

You could die too, but from embarassment. "Oh, I'm so sorry," you covered your mouth, "I didn't mean to," you mumbled into your palms.

"Don't worry," he rubbed your shoulder reassuringly, "you didn't know. It's fine."

His touch was spreading warmth all over your body. Having a thick winter jacket on was no longer comfortable, you were practically melting underneath. Not in a good way. You unzipped it to cool down. Choso's eyes drifted down on your sweater. "That colour suits you."

"Really?" all the heat from your body traveled to your cheeks, "thanks, it's my favourite."

"I can see why," he smiled and unzipped his own coat to reveal a knitted black and purple sweater with some holes patched by safety pins here and there, "this is my favourite."

"Doesn't look very warming," you said and pinched it between your fingers. Whoever knitted it used needles way too big. Or was this a gothic trend?

Choso shrugged. "I don't get cold. Me, Gojo and Geto have been swimming in freezing waters for few years. Since then I forgot what being cold feels like."

"Cool," you said and Choso chuckled at your unintended pun. "I didn't mean it like that, "you jokingly punched his chest. It was rock hard. You gulped.

"Hey, it was cute."

The longer the two of you talked the more and more people arrived. Thankfully most of them ignored both of you, or intentionally avoided you. Either way you were happy. It gave you more time in this small bubble you created with him.

Soon enough your bubble moved from the couches to the auditorium. The two of you sat to the very front row. Ironically the only row the professor didn't really notice, despite how close to him it was. It gave you enough freedom to exchange small notes. Something you've always wanted to do with someone.

You talked about all sorts of things during the class, barely paying attention to it. You told him your plans for Christmas holidays, he told you about all sorts of mischief Sukuna always did while their parents were still alive, you even offered him to meet up and study for finals if he wanted.

I'll think about it, was his answer. Not an outright no. You could live with that.

Eventually the class ended. It passed by way sooner than any other class you were on. Usually the classes drag on and on and by the time they finally end you're extremely close to sleep. But this one flashed by like a lightning. It was a shame. You could've spend more time with him.

"By the way," he started as he wrapped his coat around him, "are you busy on New year's?"

You gave it at a thought. Your mom's colleague and your dad's brother and his family were invited. Both of them are giant jokers, meeting with either of them meant a lot of fun and laughter for everyone involved. They never met before and you were beyond excited for these legends to meet. But if Choso's suggesting what you assume he's suggesting... "My parents have something planned but I'm not really needed, why?"

"Gojo's planning a New year's party. Everyone you've met yesterday will be there, plus two more guys if Gojo persuades them. All of them gushed about you and wanted to spend more time together," he added.

His words made your heart flutter. His friends liked you? Is this what being wanted feels like? You couldn't stop the wide smile from blooming on your face. "I'll ask my parents about it."

"Great," he said and pulled out his phone, "can you write your number here? So we can keep in touch."

Embarassed you had to pull your own phone out. "Sorry, I don't have my number memorized," you apolgized as you found it in your contacts and typed it into Choso's phone, "no one asks me for it. Usually just my instagram..."

He hummed. "No worries, I'll find you there as well if that makes you more comfortable."

Both of you stood up and made your way to the exit. Your good mood got spoiled by a sight of your old highschool school mate. Stella was once again sitting at the back of the room. She spotted you and you wished you could teleport home. "Hey girl," she greeted and you plastered a smile on your face.

"Hi, how are you?"

"Just great, the semester is almost ending. Oh and Sasha is coming back for holidays. We can go somewhere like we used to!" she chattered happily.

That's the last thing you want though. "I'm sorry Stell," you interrupted, "but I'll be studying for finals."

"All holidays?" she asked looking you up and down suspiciously.

"Yeah, you know how long it takes me to learn stuff," you said sheepishly and resisted the urge to hide yourself in your jacket.

In the end she just shrugged nonchalantly and trailed outside. "You'll change your mind. See ya!"

"Bye," you said weakly and sighed. This meeting was the last thing you wanted.

Choso was still standing behind you, confused as all hell. He looked at you, million questions in his eyes.

"Later," you told him. He nodded and both of you walked out the school. You felt a little guilty. He told you about his dead parents and you can't even tell him about the subtle betrayals you recieved from your old friends through the years.

A group of familiar people were standing among the falling snow infront of the school. It was just Choso's older friends today though, his twin brothers and their classmate were missing.

He smiled and raised his arm to greet them. You pulled up your hood, both to shield yourself from the snowflakes and from their gazes.

"Hey you too," Gojo greeted. With his all white outfit and his white hair he looked like a snowflake himself. An overgrown one. With shades. Those were still a mystery for you. It wasn't even that sunny outside.

Choso chatted with them abyout whatever while you stood aside awkwardly. You had nothing to talk about or say to them. They were basically strangers to you. Slowly you tried to sneak away. Unfortunately someone noticed. The medical sophomore Shoko. "And where do you think you're going?"

"Oh, uhm," you stuttered, "home?"

"Let me guess," she puffed out a cloud of smoke away from your face, "to study?"

You nodded.

She smiled and threw the finished cigarette to the snow covered ground. "I used to be like you too. Always studying, not taking a break because I felt like I was falling behind."

"Exactly!"

"Yeah, exactly. Let me give you advice Y/N," she hugged you around the shoulders and lead you after the boys who already started walking, "your brain needs time to recharge. There are two ways your nervous system works," she held up two fingers. "Sympathetic, which deals with flight-or-fight, and parasympathetic, which deals with relaxation. If you push sympathetic one way too far you risk breaking your brain. You'll be plagued by anxiety, unwillingness to eat, insomnia," she counted down on her fingers.

"Don't scare the poor girl Shoko," Geto scolded her.

"I'm not! I'm just warning her to not end up like me. Do you remember how many sleepless nights I had after my first semester?"

"How could I forget? You were calling me and Gojo every night, as if we could knock you into unconsciousness."

"Well and as a good doctor I'm trying to protect a mental wellbeing of our new friend."

You smiled. They are already concidering you a part of them.

Gojo's white hair snapped from Choso to the two of you. "Hey maybe you shouldn't. If insomnia ever haunts Y/N she could just call up Choso, right?" he nudged his gothic friend who groaned.

"That's right," Shoko mused, "his sleeping schedual is already wrecked and I'm sure he wouldn't mind if it's you."

You blushed at their teasing. But also took Shoko's prior advice to the heart. You really do need a break.

It was only then you noticed you were walking up the hill instead of down to the tram station. "Sorry, but," you unwrapped Shoko's arm from around you and stepped back, "I should go."

"Didn't you hear what I just told you?" Shoko pouted. Even Choso looked a little saddened.

"I did! I'm gonna go home, make myself a cup of tea and relax. I won't even touch my notes, I swear."

Choso narrowed his eyes. It was evident he didn't believe you. "We're going to pick up Yuji, Sukuna and Nobara and go to our favourite bar. Wanna join?" he said instead.

You thought about it. Bar? The only thing people your age dk in bars is get extremely drunk and bitch about stuff they barely understand. All your bar trips ended in utter disappointment so far. But that was with old friends. These people were older, more mature. Even Choso looked few years older than you. Besides you will be taking highschoolers with you too. With that responsibility there won't be a room for getting sloshed.

Plus your fingers were freezing and your body started to tremble under all of your layers of clothing. "Okay, sounds fun."

[another-heroine]

Friends to lovers for Katya & Lann ❤️: 10. getting physically close during the denial phase. IMAGINE KISSING AND FREAKING OUT SAYING, "friends... kiss. right?"

friends to lovers heart fluttering moments

Another episode of IT TOOK ME FOREVER BUT THERE WE GO

CW: Act 4 Quests, Angel Path

Lann acknowledged his limitations. Not in front of Daeran, of course, but deep down in his soul, where his weaknesses should be. For example, there were a lot of words he had no idea what they mean: mellifluous, eidetic, tintinnabulation, and so on. But at least he knew what boundaries were.

Something that Nenio apparently chose to ignore every single day.

They were back to the Nexus, after the last stroll in the Abyss has taken its toll from the team. He stood further from the fire, taking care of his bow and making more arrows. It was late and many already had said they good-nights and went off sleep.

Then he listened to a familiar giggle, one he hasn't heard since Galfrey sent them to that ominous place.

"She what!?" Seelah couldn’t believe that. Her whisper was a little bit higher than she expected.

"I know, right." Ekaterina nodded. "She simply asked me to take off my clothes because, by her research, some friends do that!"

"Oh Nenio." The paladin wiped her face. "What she gonna ask next?"

"I'd rather not to think about it." The Commander grimaced.

Lann frowned. What that nutty fox was doing? He overheard she abording some of the Nexus' people early, but had no idea what was going on. She was too unpredicable. Like when she asked him to take off his clothes because she wanted to make an anatomic drawing of a mongrel.

The monk scratched his chin, nervously. He would never understand.

"Then I explained her that not every friend do those things," the druid told, like she was talking about a toddler. "Kissing and sleeping together many times are related to partners."

"Do you think she really understood?" Seelah asked and laughed afterwards, when the Commander shook her head.

Lann frowned, trying to focus on the arrows. Uplanders were curious, too. Instead of giving rats or pelts to their significant other, they used to give flowers, chocolates and wine.

And about the kissing part... Nobody among the neathlanders were familiar to that. He recalled poorly his parents' relationship, his father was not fond to show physical affection, but his mother was, always hugging them, tucking their hair and kissing their foreheads.

"Hey, how are you doing?"

Ekaterina approached, bringing him to the present.

She sat next to him, sorting the materials he was using. Lann always made a mess while was creating anything. It was good to have someone tidy around.

"Almost done," he lied. The mongrel got distracted eavesdropping her conversation about Nenio and her experiments.

"I'm not talking about the arrows, you know?"

He stopped and glanced at her. She was serene, observing him with a subtly smile.

Oh, if a look could kill, that one could lift any curses he ever had.

She has found him at the Bad Luck Tavern after their encounter with Savamelekh. He would be lying if say he remembered exactly what they talked about, but the feeling that she also cared about him lingered.

"I'm getting better." He nodded. "I... still feel ashamed for making you worry, but hopefully I'll recover from that too."

The woman hummed, "Glad to hear it."

His throat was dry. Lann muttered, "Also, if you need anything, I’m all ears."

"Oh, not at all. I... just want to make you some company." Her eyes darted to the floor. "This place is oddly cold. And empty. Even I'm feeling uncomfortable with it."

Lann took a deep breath and put his bow aside.

"I told you that I will fight for you until the end, right?"

The aasimar looked at him, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

He had no idea either. But he wanted to say something epic, breathtaking, romantic. Like those cheap novel books in Mendev.

"Well," he cleaned the throat. "Keep you safe from the cold and the emptiness are also part of my goal."

First, she looked at him up and down. Then she arched a brow. "Do you wanna sleep with me?"

Uh, oh, Nenio, there was your biggest rival. Lann felt both warm and cold blood abandoning his face.

"No! I mean, err, yes? But not like, uh..." His hands waved in the air, like he was trying to weave the time-space and come back to the moment when his mouth was pretty shut.

Ekaterina covered her mouth, muting her laughter. "Calm down, I’m joking with you. Though I don’t have any objections."

Lann looked at her in panic. Was that an invite or a joke? She leaned her forehead on his, and the mongrel couldn’t take off his attentive eyes of her. They have never been that close until that very moment.

"Friends kiss... right?" The words tripped.

"You tell me."

Lann felt her lips pressing against his, and like a magical trickery, she found her way in.

[crepesuzette2023]

What’s a fic that made you cry ?

Thank you for asking—and for immediately sending me off on a brief 'meta' slingshot trajectory around my own navel! (Don't worry, I'll answer your question.)

Your ask reminded me of the fact that I almost never cry over stories. I either enjoy them, or I'm shaking with rage, if they're too painful. For a story to hit the sweet spot of undiluted sadness, of simply being moved, without spouting angry tirades in my mind trying to argue with the sad events of the story, is pretty special.

For this reason, the stories your ask made me think of are among my favorites. Sorry if I mentioned some of them before, but here we are.

(I'll mention some spoiler-y and hopefully brief explanations under the cut.)

Miracle Worker by @scurator. Still Mates by @pauls1967moustache. The late, great, johnny ace by @midchelle. Coast Starlight by bookofapril. All I Know Since Yesterday by RedheadAmongWolves.

I guess what the three quote unquote saddest stories in this list have in common, to me, is that they're a big, noble Fuck You to the ultimate adversary, everyone's final lover, the great oblivion, etc.: Death—while at the same time summoning its inevitability. It will get you, even if you love a Beatle. Even if you are one.

So, you better hold on tight and make the most of it while you can (she says, typing these lines on tumblr while seizing the fuck out of her instant coffee flavor).

Miracle Worker is about Paul and Robert Fraser making love after John's death. It's about death, and fading physical beauty, and the untarnished beauty between them. The guttering flame. Yes, it's very hot, and both sad and invigorating—like a good cry, but without the ugliness of anything as overt as crying.

Still Mates is about Peter Asher giving himself permission to reject a life of politely closeted desire by sleeping with Paul, his sister's ex, in '68. It's a story about courage, and the ability to face who you are and who you want. I'm sorry for sounding like a movie trailer. It's also a fantastically realized outsider's perspective on the beauty of J/P turning ugly, and on the mystery surrounding this legendary relationship—the elusiveness of Paul's soul is in striking contrast with Peter's hot but mundane physical closeness to Paul, the man.

The late, great johnny ace is a ghost story that denies being a ghost story, but at the last moment can't resist reaching for comfort. (At least that's what I choose to believe.) Paul, George and Ringo make a record in 1981. Paul writes Here Today. The ghost is John. The 'at the end of all things' atmosphere is shattering, but the music in Paul's soul, and the surviving bonds of friendship, and, just possibly, John's ghost, prevail.

Bonus: crying/tears without sadness

Sometimes a story is so beautiful it makes my eyes well up with it.

Coast Starlight is about a world where Paul and Robert Fraser are together in the 70's, and they're vacationing on Fire Island, and they fuck a lot, each other and others (together), and it's fine. More than fine. It's heaven on earth. As I said before, I really can't do this story justice. The relief (what a weak word) I felt in the end, when Paul realizes he can let go of his burdens and be loved for who he is (by Robert, who is giving this to him), nearly had me speaking in tongues of the awesome power of fiction.

All I Know Since Yesterday is about two teenagers in love, without either of them having told the other. They're sheltering at one of their houses after being caught in a rain storm, and dream about the future. A future with each other. And, finally, they kiss. The teenagers are John and Paul. And what I love about the story is that you feel throughout that this is the beginning of something big. The kiss is both sweet and elemental.

[janeway-lover]

the next part of this au because i can not get it out of my head and that's good because i love it and also i can't leave the house still so have another part in the same day

When the two of them did finally leave the closet, after Abby picked the lock once again, all the other knights and nobles had vanished.

"I'm going to have all of their heads cut off, I swear to God."

"I'm sure you will, dear." She glares at them, but the next moment, there is a smile on her face. "Hopefully, they'll realize they can stop locking us up."

"Hopefully." She looks up and down the hallway, ensuring it is empty. "And hopefully they shall not spread rumors." With her confidence bolstered by the lack of people, she reaches over and takes Uriel's hand.

"There may not be much hope for us in that situation. Lord Dagon likes to gossip."

"That may be true, but Lord Dagon can also appreciate a good bribe." Uriel laughs, and she smiles, squeezing their hand. "I'll have to go, my father insists upon family dinner. Could I - could I see you again later?"

"As you wish." Before she can walk away, Uriel lifts her hand to their lips and presses a kiss to the back of her hand. "Tonight?"

"Of - of course," she stutters out. Uriel smiles, then turns and walks away, leaving Abby, stammering in the middle of the hallway, with a blush slowly creeping over your face.

-

"So," the king said, "what did you all do today?"

"Yeah, Abby," Eric says.

"What'd you do today?" Erik asks.

"You were gone for ages," Erich adds. No one at the table bats an eye at the way the triplets split one sentence among the three of them; they've been doing it since they were all able to talk.

"I bought some new poisons from Lord Dagon," she says effortlessly. "The three of you ought to invest in a taste tester." The three brothers look down at their plates, mumbling apologies.

"What have I told you about threatening your brothers?"

"Always have an alibi," Abby rattles off, earning a smile and a nod from Lucifer.

"Very good. However, while we're on the topic, I do have an announcement. For all of you," he adds, looking around the large table at all his children. Abby clears her throat, and a silence falls. "Thank you. Now, as you all know, the tournament for the knights is coming up. As always, it shall also be open to knights from other kingdoms, and anyone else who wishes to test their luck."

"Can we -"

"No, Erik, none of you may join. All knights will be required to take their helmets off during registration, and no unregistered participants will be allowed." Several groans arise from the table.

"Damn it."

"Yes, I'm so sorry for not wanting any of you to get hurt," Lucifer says flatly. "Anyway! What I was trying to say is that we will be having a special guest this year." He looks at Abby, and she looks back, confused. "This year, your sister's first suitor will be joining the festivities."

"My what?!" The entire table goes quiet.

"Your first suitor, dear, that's what I said. A fine young man, truly, and very far down his own family's line of succession."

"You said you weren't just going to marry me off, you said I had a choice!"

"And you do! I did say the first, child, if you do not like this one, it is perfectly fine. We'll send him back home at the end of the tournament, no harm done. And I'm hardly expecting you to marry without a proper courting period." Lucifer's tone is light, his face is smiling, in sharp contrast to the anger in his daughter's voice.

"If I do not find one I like, then what?"

"Well, then I suppose you pick the one that you dislike the least."

"And what if I do not want to marry a man I despise, father?"

"If you truly despise all the men I find," Lucifer says with a sigh, "then we can go from there. But, my dear, as I said, this is only the first, and I am confident that one of them shall meet your standards for a proper husband."

"Perhaps I do not wish for a proper husband!" she shouts, standing up abruptly, pushing her chair back with a deafening screech. "Perhaps I have grown beyond my desires for a man who will merely give me an heir! What then, father?"

"You wish to marry for love, then?"

"I do."

"I've made a very long list of suitors for you, dear. I'm sure you can grow to love whichever of them you pick."

"You're not - that's not the - urgh!" Without another word, she storms away from the table, aiming a glare at the knight posted by the door on her way out.

-

A couple hours pass before she slips silently out of her room, only to be stopped short by the sight of Dagon outside her door.

"Michael told me what happened."

"Yes, I'm sure Sir Michael told you everything. You and the rest of this damned court." She doesn't stop while she talks, instead brushing past them and assuming they'll follow.

"They only told me." Dagon does follow her, of course. "Abby, just let me talk."

"Did you know?"

"What?"

"Did you know, Dagon? My father wouldn't make this decision without consulting his advisors, and even if he didn't consult you, I know you keep your ear to the ground. So, I'll ask you again. Did you know?"

"I knew he was planning this. I didn't know it would be now."

"But you knew it would be soon."

"Yes."

"And yet, you encouraged me, forcibly pushed me, in fact, into pursuing my heart. Despite the fact that you knew I'd have to start meeting suitors."

"Your father is a reasonable man, I'm sure if you told him, he would understand." This gets no response. Dagon notices that they're following her in the direction of the barracks for the knights. "Are you really this mad at me for wanting you to have some fun?"

"Do you think it's fun to have your heart broken, Lord Dagon? Uriel has in no way wronged me, and yet my heart breaks, more than if I had never had them to begin with."

"Perhaps you may find a suitor who understands."

"I am expected to produce children, Dagon! Multiple! For the safety of the throne or whatever bullshit you want to call it. There are expectations, not just from my father but from the rest of the court and the kingdom and these men, these men that the king has found from who knows where and expects me to marry!"

"Well, then, don't marry any of them. Easy."

"And disappoint my father? Have you gone mad?" She stops, rather abruptly, and only then does Dagon realize that they've arrived at the barracks. "I can not go in. There will be talk. Would you? Please?" For the first time in this conversation, she looks at them, and they can see the sadness in her eyes.

"Of course I will, my friend."

"Thank you."

-

"Oi! Where's Sir Uriel? I've got a message from the king."

Nobles being in the barracks is hardly a rare thing; the number of court members who are married to knights is absurd. Lord Dagon themself is not even a rare sight to see. But Lord Dagon shouting for a knight that isn't their wife? That is a very uncommon thing.

"I'm right here, what is it?"

"What is what?"

"The message, for crying out loud." What Michael sees in them, Uriel will never know.

"Oh, right, the message." Their grin is far too wide. "Go outside."

"I swear on my sword, if this is another scheme of yours, Dagon," they start to say, but the noble interrupts them.

"Not one of my schemes, no. All I know is that you're to go outside." Taking a step closer to the knight, they whisper, "And maybe make sure the princess doesn't start crying."

"Lead with that next time," they hiss, shoving past Dagon and out the door. "Abby?"

"I'm here." Stepping out of the shadows and into the moonlight, she walks to Uriel, but stops a few steps away.

"What's wrong?" Without a second thought, they close the distance between them, taking hold of her hand.

"The king has decided that I must begin meeting suitors. The first one will be here for the tournament."

"Will he be participating in the competitions?"

"Yes?"

"Then I shall beat him thoroughly, and send him away crying." Almost instantly, Abby throws her arms around them, nearly knocking them over.

"Thank you."

[elletromil]

look behind (i trust that she is there)

So there was this poll on tumblr a while back and something you might know or not about me, is that i absolutely love the eurydice&orpheus myth, so of course that poll was great to me. And then it came back on my dash with added tags and comment and well... I couldn't help myself. I wanted to write it. And try to give it the same impact as the results from the polls.

I don't know if i succeeded, but i loved writing it anyway. hopefully, you will enjoy reading it

I would like to thank @honey-bee-britt @solrosan @insanereddragon and @oggalahad for the cheerleading and just listening to me losing my mind about this as i was writing

Also a big thank you to @artknifeandglue because it was great to know at least one person outside of my friend group was interested in reading the whole thing once it was done

If you all want to know what i listened to on repeat while writing this, go give a listen to It's Never Over (Hey Orpheus) by Arcade Fire.

look behind (i trust that she is there)

(also here on AO3)

Eggsy feels himself turn without meaning to.

(lies.)

He has faith, he really, really does. He truly trusts that she is behind him.

(lies again. he doubts. he is weak.)

But like almost everything he did in life, he’s fucking it up again. Even the best thing that ever happened to him, becoming a Kingsman Knight, he very nearly messed that up entirely.

(lies, lies, lies. the best thing that ever happened, it was her friendship. he hasn’t messed that up. yet.)

Eggsy feels himself turn and scrunches his eyes close even if he knows it’s already too late.

He’s failed already.

He turned to look behind.

His one chance and he messed it up.

She would be so mad at him.

(lies. she would understand. she’s his best mate. she would forgive him instantly.)

He’s so angry at himself.

He shakes his head, eyes still closed, because no.

No.

It can’t end this way.

If there is one thing he has always been good at, it is stubbornness.

It can’t be too late.

He turned, but he didn't look.

There is still a chance.

She deserves his best.

If it comes to it, he’s willing to stay here until the end of time until he gets it right.

Eggsy simply refuses to give up.

*

(and so the trial starts anew)

*

When Eggsy first heard the conditions that would allow them to leave the underworld, they had sounded underwhelmingly easy.

He had to trust that she was walking behind him? Of course he would. He had always trusted her with his back.

(it is others he does not trust with hers.)

Not looking back to check shouldn’t be too much of a hardship either.

Or so an idiot would think.

And Eggsy is guilty of many things, but being an idiot is not among those.

He’s fought too hard to survive over the years so he could get to where he stands today to believe that anything can truly be easy.

There has to be a catch somewhere. Everything worth doing has one.

(she is worth everything. she is worth more than he could ever aspire to be.)

And now, as he walks the path that will lead him out of the underworld again, he knows that he was right.

There is a catch.

He is the catch.

Eggsy trusts her more than he’s trusted anything in his life before.

He trusts her more than he trusts himself.

And so he doubts.

(he is weak.)

He believes that she is behind him. 

The deal that has been struck is fair. 

Even if he did turn-

No.

He didn’t look. He didn’t see.

He doesn’t know for certain that she walks behind him. That she ever was there in the first place.

He is starting all over again.

Maybe.

It could still be his first attempt for all that the path he follows never seems to change around him.

Maybe he did fail already.

Maybe this is punishment for his failure.

Forever walking alone in this purgatory, crippled with doubts-

No.

No, that wasn’t the deal.

He didn’t look. He didn’t see.

He keeps walking.

(he doubts.)

She has to be behind him. She has to.

Please.

He’s not above begging. Not when it comes to her.

He starts turning around to see if for once in his life his pleas have been answered but closes his eyes before the truth can be revealed.

That is not part of the deal.

He takes a deep breath to calm is racing heart.

It is not over.

(not yet.)

*

(and so it starts once more)

*

Self-confidence has always been easy for Eggsy. There has simply never been any other alternative.

Whatever he sets himself to do, he’ll succeed at.

Right until the point where he fucks up spectacularly and suffer the consequences of his failure.

But that’s the lot of anyone who isn’t born with a silver spoon up their arses.

Not that they can’t fail. They just rarely have to deal with the resulting consequences.

Take Harry Hart for example.

Eggsy doesn’t blame him for his father’s death. He doesn’t even blame Harry for not trying harder to help his mum, not when she had refused him once already. She might have changed her tune a few months later, but Eggsy rather doubts it. His mum can be just as stubborn as he is.

But that also means Harry isn’t the one who drew the short stick regarding Lee’s death.

And later, when Eggsy failed to become a Knight after Harry recruited him, well… Harry died.

Not that it stuck for long.

But all this to prove that, no matter how much Eggsy loves his mentor, some people are unburdened with the consequences of their decisions.

Further evidence to this point is how, unlike Eggsy, Harry hasn’t lost his best mate during their show-off against Poppy. Not that Merlin has come out of his meeting with a mine unscathed, but at least he is still there to snark at Harry.

Eggsy hasn’t been so lucky.

Even the version of Roxy he keeps in his mind since he met her has been rather silent since he learned the manor exploded while she was still inside.

But he’s going to fix this.

(if he can fake it for long enough.)

He’s confident he can.

(lies. lies. lies.)

Roxy is counting on him and he’s not going to fail her.

He trusts that she is there, following after him. After all, she always has been smarter than him. She would know he’s her best bet out of here.

(he thinks he is.)

(right?)

He bites down on his lower lip hard as he feels his body turn back and keeps his eyes shut through the pain.

No.

He’s not given up.

Not ever.

*

(and it starts again)

*

Eggsy keeps on walking the path leading out of the underworld.

It’s not like he could do anything else.

Not when the alternative is giving up.

That’s not something he’s ever been good at.

(lies. oh how much he lies to himself even to this day.)

So he walks.

Because it is the only thing he can do.

Because he doesn’t want to give up.

Because he’s not ready to let go.

(that is what he is really good at. not letting go. this is why he carries so much anger. he clings and clings and clings. even after it’s already too late. and it is always easier to be angry at how empty his hands are than to acknowledge the hurt and loneliness.)

(the despair.)

He wishes he could reach behind and clasp her hand in his.

But that is not the deal.

The deal is about trust.

Trust that she is there.

(oh how much he doubts.)

Trust that he is doing the right thing.

(there has never been any doubt about that.)

(the truth.)

Trust in her.

(always.)

In himself.

(he is weak.)

So what if he cannot see her shadow next to his on the wall? He’s not seen anything that would explain the warm eerie glow by which he’s been travelling. Who is he to pretend knowing the laws that governs anything in the underworld?

He’s only passing through this realm, an intruder on a mission.

That’s a feeling he’s intimately familiar with.

That lack of belonging.

It has been easier to ignore since he met her. Since he started borrowing some of the inner strength she had always seem happy to share with him.

Eggsy could use some of that now.

His body starts to turn like a flower towards the sun.

He closes his eyes before he can catch a glimpse, before he can be blinded by the knowledge of who stands behind him or not.

No.

It’s not over yet.

*

(and starts again)

*

The worse part of it all, is the deafening silence around him.

Eggsy strains to hear anything, any sounds that doesn’t come from his own disruption of the underworld.

Even his own presence is barely audible, his footsteps not making any echo and his suit barely rustling around his body.

He could come to doubt his very own existence if it wasn’t for his pounding heartbeat in his ears.

He wonders if it is the same for her.

Wonders if she has a heartbeat at all.

(she does not.)

(he hasn’t succeeded yet.)

(she is still d-)

Has she noticed its absence?

Probably.

Of the two, she always was the more observant.

She can probably hear his own thundering heartbeat from where she stands behind him.

(if she is behind him.)

Maybe this is part of it. One that went unmentioned, but nonetheless important.

Perhaps even essential.

A reminder to her of what it is to be flesh and blood.

Something to inspire in her a yearning for what she lost.

The reminder of what it is to be alive.

(of that, he is not the best example.)

He hopes he is enough.

He has to be.

Please.

Let her be behind him.

Let his trust in that not be in vain.

Please.

(he trusts-)

(lies.)

(he tr-)

(lies.)

He pleads his own body so it won’t betray him.

So it does not to turn around.

She is there. He knows it to be true.

She has to be.

Unlike his footsteps, the sob he doesn’t muffle in time echoes around him when his body twists towards where she should be standing.

He keeps his eyes shut, not caring about how it precipitates the tears rolling down his cheek.

He didn’t look.

He didn’t see.

Eggsy hasn’t failed.

*

(and starts again)

*

Eggsy walks, gritting his teeth.

Wills himself to stop feeling sorry for himself.

This is not about him.

(lies.)

It’s about her.

(the truth.)

Eggsy’s life has never been fair. He’s made peace with that. Even now, with more privileges than he knows what to do with, he doesn’t expect much out of it.

But Roxy deserves better. That is a belief woven into the very fabric of his being. Suffusing him to the last of his atoms.

It doesn’t matter if he’s the only one who thinks so.

He’s fought and rave against the world for much less before.

For her, he would go even further.

(truth again.)

He wonders if she knows.

She must.

He’s never said it out loud, but when have they ever needed words between them?

(he should have told her anyway.)

When this is all over, he’ll make sure to tell her. Even if she thinks it’s unnecessary. It’s not. It’s the most important knowledge he’s ever hold within himself.

He could even tell her right now.

Why not?

What difference would it make?

After all, he trusts that she is there.

(lies.)

As he opens his mouth on her name, he feels himself turn to look behind.

He closes his eyes before he can see.

No.

This is not how he gives up.

(he never will.)

*

(and starts again-)

*

Maybe he is becoming mad.

Maybe he already is.

Already was.

He remembers vaguely a saying that insanity is about doing the same thing over and over and over again while expecting a different result.

Put in those words, insanity sounds a lot like hope.

And Eggsy… Eggsy is no stranger to hope.

It is why he has been angry for so long.

Why waste your time in anger if you do not carry even a seed of hope anymore?

It’s why he would always get up again after being beaten down and brought to new lows.

Because he was angry. Absolutely mad with it.

Because he dared to hope.

Is it any wonder then that he is still trying to discern her shadow on the wall?

He trusts that she is there.

(... maybe.)

Eggsy doesn’t think he’s ever fought a harder battle. His senses against his faith. What he sees against what he believes.

The sight of his lone shadow should not matter.

It isn’t part of the deal.

And the deal that has been struck is fair.

(but the world isn’t. not to him.)

With a growl of frustration, he stops walking.

He’s losing sight of what matters again.

She’s supposed to be his priority.

She is his priority.

But his momentum is lost and already, he feels himself turning-

His eyes shut so that he cannot see his own shadow anymore.

This is not how he fails.

*

(and again)

*

While they’d grown past the need for words to understand each other, it doesn’t mean they never talked.

In fact, it would have been rather sad to be best mates with someone and never exchange a word with them.

It just means that the silences between them were moments of peace shared.

It is nothing like the oppressing silence he has been forced into since accepting the deal.

(lies. it started well before that. since he learned what happened to her.)

He wonders what she would think of his current endeavour.

After dealing with Poppy and the direct aftermath of her actions, he hadn’t really stop to think. He had just known that she wasn’t at his sides and that it was wrong .

What is she telling him that he cannot hear?

If their roles had been reversed, if he had been the one following Roxy out of the underworld, he knows he wouldn’t have shut up the whole way.

Even if he had known she couldn’t hear him, he would have tried anyway.

There are no reasons why he wouldn’t want to. And he doesn’t want to imagine why she wouldn’t speak to him now.

Because he trusts that she is there.

(... probably.)

“Would you talk to me if you could?”

The words fall out of his mouth before he can stop them and he hates the sound of them, how they drip with doubt.

He doesn’t need to turn around to know she would be rolling her eyes at him in annoyance.

He doesn’t need to and yet he feels himself do so anyway.

Mouth open on an apology, he closes his eyes.

This is not part of the deal.

*

(and again )

*

Eggsy cannot stop thinking about it.

The deal is fair. The deal is simple.

(it is not easy.)

There is nothing that should stop them from talking.

So if there is nothing against it, why isn’t Roxy saying anything?

Maybe she thinks she is helping him.

If he heard her voice again, he doesn’t know if he could keep on looking forward.

The temptation to look at where she stands would be hard to resist.

(he is weak.)

But the deal is to not look back. Not until they walk out of the underworld.

Is there anything she could say that would make him look if it means failure?

(he is stubborn.)

He hasn’t given up yet. He never will.

If it means getting her back, he can be strong.

(not a lie.)

But what if she stays silent because she doesn’t have anything to tell him?

What if the real price to pay is the friendship they share?

Roxy would get her heartbeat back, but never speak a word to him again.

Could he do it?

(he is selfish.)

(he will do everything he can even if it means destroying himself in the process.)

He shakes his head.

This wasn’t the deal.

There are countless reasons why she wouldn’t have uttered a word. It’s not important.

(and yet-)

He doesn’t need the reassurance.

He doesn’t.

Eggsy feels himself turn to beg her to say something anyway.

He bites down on his tongue hard until he can taste the blood in his mouth, keeping his eyes shut the whole time.

Eggsy is stronger than this.

(is he?)

*

(and again-)

*

The thing is, even if Eggsy’s life hasn’t been easy, he’s reached a point where he wouldn’t change anything about it.

The good and the bad has made him into the man he is today.

A man he is proud to be. A man he can believe others are proud of.

(the truth.)

It’s Harry who had first set him on that path. Merlin too, in subtler ways that turned out to be just as important.

But it’s Roxy who kept him on the right track in the months since.

She is worth his best and more.

She never let him forget that he is worth the efforts just as much as she is.

She reminded Eggsy that he deserves his happiness.

(not the truth. not a lie.)

He is starting to understand why it has been such a challenge to imagine what she would be telling him as they travel the underworld.

It’s not his fault, not really.

(a lie.)

But it is becoming harder and harder for him to discern who she is from what she means to him.

And with that realisation, comes another fear.

Which version of her walks behind him?

What if it’s a lie?

Would he even care?

He turns around because just a glimpse of her it would let him know if it is truly her standing behind him or if is only a construct of his own mind.

Jaw clenched tight, he closes his eyes.

Now is not the time for doubts.

It is her.

That is the deal.

He wouldn’t have settled for anything less.

He trusts that she is there.

(not a lie.)

*

(and starts one more time) 

*

He can’t tell anymore how long he’s been walking.

Days? Weeks?

(forever.)

(no time at all.)

It’s not enough to make him give up however.

As long as there is a chance, he will never stop.

A chance is all he’s ever needed.

It doesn’t matter if it takes all of eternity.

It’s a sacrifice he’s willing to make.

Roxy… Roxy probably wouldn’t agree with him on that one.

Not that she would try to stop him now that his mind is set. At least he doesn’t think so. But she would never ask him to do anything for her if the cost is his life.

It’s a good thing that this is not the deal that has been struck, so she has no reason to be angry with him.

(she will be anyway.)

Not when she would have done the same had their roles been reversed.

Roxy is usually more reasonable than he is, but if she had been offered the chance to lead Eggsy out of the underworld,  after he had died so senselessly…

Eggsy would be the one getting angry at Roxy for her reckless behaviour.

It’s easier to be angry than it is to be afraid. To be worried.

Even if he’ll never regret taking the deal, he’ll have to apologize to her once they make it out of the underworld.

(if-)

(when-)

(even now he is angry. even now he hopes.)

Not because he shouldn’t have done it. This was always the right decision. He truly believes that.

But because he didn’t leave her with any other choice.

He trusts that she is there… But she’s probably very cross with him.

It makes no difference whether she had accepted her fate or not when he made the deal. It doesn’t change the fact that she had no voice in the matters.

That is the one thing he would change if he could go back in time.

He would ask that she be heard.

(would he listen?)

Even now, he wishes she would say something. Even if she is angry.

Or worse.

Even if she is indifferent.

He just wants to hear her voice again.

But the time for bargaining is long past.

A deal is already in place.

And Eggsy really should know better by now.

He should, but still his body starts to turn towards her. He closes his eyes before he can look behind.

It’s not the time for that yet.

*

(again)

*

A thought crosses his mind, unbidden.

This is a trial for her too.

It is about him as much as it is about her.

She wasn’t given a voice, but she was still given a choice.

To believe otherwise just shows how self-absorbed Eggsy can get when she isn’t there to slap some sense into him.

He trusts that she is there, but she doesn’t have to be.

It’s not easy for Eggsy to lead the way without looking back.

(he is weak. this is why it is hard.)

But having to follow after him without having a say in the matters must not be easy on her either.

(she is strong. this is why it is hard.)

She sees him, she has to.

But can she hear him?

Earlier, what seems like ages ago, he was convinced she could hear his heartbeat. How could it be otherwise when it is thundering loudly in his own ears?

But now he’s not so sure.

Without looking back, he has to believe that she is behind.

Without any other proof, she has to believe that he came to guide her out of the underworld.

How can either of them know that they aren’t being deceived? How can they be sure while they are also being kept isolated from each other?

The deal is about trust.

And real trust is a road connecting two hearts. A road that is travelled in both direction.

Roxy is strong. Stronger than Eggsy.

(that is how it always felt at least.)

But after being confronted with his own doubts, with his own flaws, Eggsy wonders what she must have been going through.

She is strong, but she is not without any weaknesses.

He’s always known that before.

It was just more convenient to forget for a time.

He shuts his eyes just as he starts turning so he can reassure her that she is not alone. That he is not giving up.

Not now, not ever.

He can’t see her, but she can see him.

He smiles briefly before taking a deep breath.

It’s time to show the world how stubborn he is.

(how stubborn she is.)

*

( again )

*

By now, Eggsy should rightfully be exhausted.

He’s certain he’s walked more than he ever did in his entire life.

But the walking isn’t the hard part. There is no effort required for putting a foot in front of the other again and again in an endless loop. There is no exertion in the underworld.

Nothing physical anyway.

What is taking its toll are the thoughts swirling in his mind without any reprieve.

(he doubts.)

(he trusts.)

He’s not ashamed to admit that he’s not used to that level of introspection.

Not on his own anyway.

But here in the silence of the underworld, there’s no escape from it. From himself.

He thought he had a pretty good idea of the man he wanted to be. Who he had become.

And he does.

Except he’s come to realise just how much of it depends on what others think of him.

Maybe this should make him angry too. He’s spent so long trying to prove people wrong when they thought he would never amount to anything.

But there’s a difference between wanting to prove someone wrong and wanting to prove someone right.

Roxy’s opinion of him will always be important. Valuable. A scale on which he can judge his own actions.

Because the thing about Roxy is that, besides his trusts, she’s never made any demand of him. She always seen who is and never found him lacking.

And so he wants to continue to be this man for her. Doesn’t want to disappoint her. Because disappointing her would just be disappointing himself. And he’s done enough of that for a lifetime already.

That’s why he trusts that she is there.

(she must.)

Because he believes he’s doing the right thing.

(he is.)

And Roxy has always trusted him. Has always trusted his judgment.

He cannot think of a reason why either of them would ever come to regret his actions now.

But a reassurance would be appreciated anyway.

Not because he is weak. But simply because that’s what friends are for.

He really wishes she could say something. Anything at all.

He misses her.

Eggsy closes his eyes with a sigh, knowing already what is coming.

He turns to where she must be standing.

But he doesn’t look, he doesn’t see.

No.

Not yet.

*

(AGAIN-)

*

Eggsy keeps on walking.

How long has it been, he can’t tell.

He just knows that he hasn’t failed yet and so he must carry on.

More and more, it feels like he’ll be stuck in the underworld forever.

Not because there is no way out.

Eggsy knows there is one. The path is clear and he hasn’t strayed from it.

He just doesn’t how long it truly is.

He’s started over so many times.

Because he refuses to fail. Because he is stubborn. Because he is strong.

Yes, he made this deal because he was weak.

He lost Roxy and he felt so alone. Vulnerable.

It’s not something he was prepared to face again, not so soon.

He had finally found someone who never doubted him and who would always stand by him. But the world has never been fair to him and he lost her.

And Eggsy is selfish.

He made a deal to get her back because he could and he didn’t really think of the consequences. It’s never stopped him before, it wasn’t going to stop him then.

He is strong. Strong enough to deal with whatever consequences might result of his decision.

If he succeeds, he knows he’ll never come to regret it, no matter what happens.

Because Roxy is too important to him.

And if he fails…

He won’t regret it either.

Because at least he would have tried. Tried so many times that he can’t hide from himself anymore.

(at long last.)

(the Truth.)

Eggsy made a deal because he was too weak to let Roxy go.

And he’s getting her back because with her at his back, he is strong enough to conquer death itself.

He should tell everything.

But every time he opens his mouth to say something, words fail him.

He doesn’t know where exactly to start.

And telling her like that doesn’t feel right. It feels like he doesn’t really want to face her. Like he prefers to keep whatever idealistic version of her he’s built in his mind over the course of their friendship and doesn’t really care about what the real her thinks of his confession.

It feels like he’s a coward.

But he’s not.

He’s many things, but he’s never been that.

Eggsy made a deal to bring Roxy back to the living without thinking of the consequences.

He made a deal because he couldn’t deal her loss.

He believes it was the right thing to do.

Roxy might think differently. Who can ever say what others think?

Maybe getting her back will mean losing her in a more terrible way than simple death.

He still won’t regret it.

He starts turning around to tell her everything, but remembers himself just in time.

His eyes shut and her name falls from his lips.

There will be time for all of this when they make it out of the underworld.

Or maybe there won’t be.

It doesn’t matter.

This is not part of the deal.

And the trial isn’t over yet.

*

(againagainagainagainagain)

*

Time has lost all meaning.

If it ever had any in the first place.

Eggsy can’t quite tell anymore.

He just knows that he needs to keep walking.

That’s the deal he’s made.

That he may walk out of the underworld with Roxy, as long as he trusted that she was there. As long as he never looked behind.

So he walks.

He trusts that she is behind.

(Truth. Lie.)

He doubts.

That’s the only reason he can be certain he hasn’t failed yet. That he hasn’t looked behind no matter how many times he’s turned around.

He thought he had finally figured out why he was doing all of this.

That it was all for her.

That it was all for himself.

He doesn’t know anymore.

(Lie.Truth.)

The why of it isn’t important anyway.

The important thing is that they’re doing this.

Together.

If anyone can succeed, it’s them.

That he doesn’t doubt. Not even for a moment.

Everything else can wait until they’re out of here.

Whatever comes next, it will be its own challenge. But they’ll weather it together just like they always do and they’ll be all the stronger for it.

Because that’s the one thing Eggsy is coming to realise from it all.

You’re only as strong as the people you chose to stand with.

And even if they’re gone, that doesn’t mean they’ve left you.

Eggsy brushes away the tears that have been rolling down his cheeks.

He trusts that she is there.

Even if he lets her go.

He won’t lose her.

Not ever.

“Please.”

It’s a plea.

It’s a prayer.

To whom, he’s not sure. It’s not like he believes anyone is really listening.

But for her, for Roxy, he’s always been willing to do anything.

Even begging.

“Please.”

He feels himself turning around.

Closes his eyes.

He hasn’t looked.

He didn’t see.

“Please-.”

*

(one last time)

*

They walk a long time on the road of the underworld.

Eggsy leads the way while Roxy follows behind him.

They don’t exchange words. They have never needed them before. They don’t need them now either.

It would be a comfort of course, but it is not the time for comfort.

This is a trial.

A fair one, but not an easy one.

And so, they keep on walking.

They walk because they are too stubborn to give up.

They walk because there is still a chance.

Dawn is breaking when they finally make it out of the underworld.

The light is enough to hurt his eyes. He would close them, but he doesn’t want to miss a single moment of this new day, even when tears start blurring his sight.

Eggsy takes a deep breath.

Lets himself smile at the sound of the birds chirping in the trees, the sound of the wind playing in the leaves.

He smiles at the world living and breathing all around him.

And, because he trusts that she is there-

He looks behind.

[silverbladexyz]

Truth and lies

This Dazai x reader fic idea was given to me by an anon, and can I just say... that they are a genius.

TW: Mentions of death, suicide, slight mentions of bullying, drinking, guns, kind of dark content, Dazai is lowkey a yandere, idk if I characterized him good enough

The image is not mine. It belongs to it’s original owner

Hopefully I wrote this well. Also the title may not be that relevant to the fic.

Every person that you had met have told you that your ability was a gift.

After all, who wouldn’t want the ability to know when someone was lying or not? And being able to see the truth? You just had to mention what your ability would do and all the government forces would be scrambling to recruit you.

However, your ability was nothing but a curse.

Ever since you were a child, you weren’t afraid to call out anyone who was lying about anything. This made you unpopular among your classmates, since the majority of them always lied to skip homework or school. It wasn’t long before they started calling you names and teasing you that you were the ‘teacher’s pet’. You’d find hateful notes in your locker, a lot of your stuff stolen, and nobody really willing to hang out with you at breaktimes. And those were just the least of how they treated you.

It had gotten to the point where you had started skipping out on school. When your mother found out, she was naturally furious and demanded an answer from you. Scared, you found yourself lying that you had already done all the classwork and homework beforehand, so you had nothing to do in the lessons that you skipped out on.

It struck like lightning.

Pain seized your chest, so sudden and so severe you thought that you were having a heart attack. You had fallen to the ground, clutching your chest, unable to breathe and think as the pain spread all throughout your body. Liquid rushed up your throat, spilling out of your mouth in great ruby streams, while your vision was dulling by the minute.

You very nearly died that day if it weren’t for the doctor with a cancelling ability.

This was the curse; in exchange for being able to see the truth, the cost of telling one lie was death.

Oh, how cruel it was. You had spent the day in your room, numb and trying to accept the fact that you always had to tell the truth, no matter how dangerous it was. Several times, you had even attempted to end yourself, but every single time something had stayed your hand. It didn’t mean that you were never rushed to the hospital in a critical state though.

You kept on pushing on. You graduated school with top marks, and you also got accepted into an elite university. After some searching around for a job, you were finally accepted into the Armed Detective Agency.

Your ability helped you solve cases very quickly, and you soon became a well-respected detective, although you weren’t on par with Ranpo. People appreciated your honesty, and soon you found yourself being drinking buddies with nearly everyone in the Agency. Well, apart from one person himself.

Dazai Osamu. 22 years old, 182cm tall. He was a suicidal maniac, and a crazy one at that.

He initially took an interest in you when you had managed to solve an incredibly difficult case when Ranpo was away. That interest soon turned into curiosity when you told him the reason was because of your ability, the ability to detect lies and see truth itself. Even when you were an expert at reading people, you were never able to tell if Dazai was lying or not, partly because of his ability and partly because he was able to hide his emotions really well.

Dazai had approached you first, with the simple question of asking for your assistance on a mission. You agreed, and the mission went smoothly, but something about the man interested you. His charming, funny personality was just a mask to hide the demon within. You found yourself approaching him a lot more, and making small talk with him to try to get to know him better.

Small conversations soon turned into lengthy discussions, and the bond between you two strengthened from colleagues to good friends. With every conversation, you seemed closer to Dazai, sometimes even entrusting him with secrets that you never told your parents. He listened to everything without judging, and in return he told you stories that would still amuse you for the rest of your days.

It was one particular night, when you showed up drunk at his place, that your mask fell. Everything came pouring out, how you were bullied at school, your many attempts to suicide, even your deepest darkest secret: how your ability would kill you if you ever lied. Dazai didn’t say anything. He only hugged you to his chest while you cried, ranting about how twisted and unfair the world was.

It was then that this new emotion surfaced in him. It was light at the start, but over time it grew deeper, blossoming in his chest, enveloping him with such yearning every time he looked at you. Was it love? No, it was too strong to be love. But whatever it was, whether it be obsession or desire, Dazai knew that he had to have you to himself, and protect you from everything that would potentially harm you.

But Dazai wouldn’t force a relationship onto you, oh no. The last thing he wanted was to make you upset, and for someone as sad and as broken as you, a relationship would be the last thing that you wanted. Not until you were healed and fully trusted him.

Dazai eventually persuaded you to tell him the names of every single person that had bullied you or did you wrong. Afterwards, he managed to find out their locations. And even when he didn’t kill them, Dazai had other techniques to let those idiots know their place. Nobody ever bothered you again, something that you realised and that you were thankful for. You never questioned it however.

Over the months, you had grown to be very close with Dazai. You always went to him for comfort, and each time he would hug you and give you words of advice that worked very well. He became your only comfort, a foundation you could turn to whenever you needed help. 

And the fact that you went to him and only him alone made Dazai’s desire for you grow all the more stronger.

However, it was such a tragedy that when life seemed to be good, something bad always lurked around the corner.

~~~

It all went wrong. How could it all go so wrong?

It was just a simple mission. Solve this murder case and arrest the criminal. You were paired up with Dazai, since the case was a bit more complex than the other ones you had solved. Deep down, you were glad that the chocolate-haired detective was chosen to go with you, since whenever he was around, you felt calm and relaxed.

The case was a bit of a tricky one, however, due to Dazai’s intelligence and your ability, the murderer was found, and most coincidentally it was the policeman at the crime scene. You were about to arrest him when in a move too fast to see, he pulled out a gun and shot at you.

You stood glued to the ground, unable to move as the supersonic bullet streaked towards you. Your life flashed before your eyes. Although it was an unhappy and awful life, there were some moments and people that you appreciated.

Such as Dazai.

Such as Dazai, who took the bullet for you at the last second. Such as Dazai, who collapsed into your arms, bleeding heavily from the bullet wound. Such as Dazai, who had held you and comforted you and cheered you up every single time you felt down.

Such as Dazai, whose life was draining away by the second.

You finally reacted, your hands going to his chest, wrapping your jacket around his wound and pressing down on it as hard as you can. The blood seeped through, staining your hands and spilling onto the ground in a matter of seconds. You barely remembered taking out your phone and calling an ambulance, alongside with the Agency. Your senses were disoriented, everything was in a fuzz. The only hope you had was that he would survive the surgery, and slowly but surely make a recovery.

After what seemed like an eternity, the surgery door finally opened, and Yosano stepped out, looking grim. You immediately stood up and rushed towards her, practically begging her to tell you the news. It was the sad and pitiful look that she gave you which caused you to freeze in your tracks.

“He survived the surgery, however, he doesn’t have much longer to live. He’s already lost a lot of blood, and he might die in the next few minutes.” You stood there, frozen, as Yosano delivered her prognosis. The doctor’s eyes were soft, and all around you the Agency members gave you the same looks too. Pity and sympathy.

“He wishes to see you though.” Your head snapped up so fast that you almost got whiplash. Without waiting to hear any more, you pushed past her and almost ran into the infirmary.

On the bed lay Dazai, hooked up to different types of machines that tried their best to prolong his life. His skin was pale, even paler than what a vampire’s skin would be. A heap of bandages was wrapped around his chest, yet it only stopped the bleeding, never healing the wound.

How ironic, that the suicidal maniac was finally meeting his end. And at the hands of someone that wasn’t a beautiful lady, or someone that he loved.

Dazai’s eyes flickered open. His chocolate pupils looked at you, those same pupils that you had looked at all those times for comfort. A storm of emotions raged in your heart.

After all this time, your feelings for Dazai were unclear, and they still were. There were some instances where you thought you felt something else for him, but each time it would go away.

One wrong answer, and you would be joining him in a double death. 

But perhaps, it wouldn’t be that bad afterall.

Dazai’s mouth moved, making the faintest of sounds, but each word you heard loud and clear.

“Y/N... do you love me?”

Your eyes widened. 

You swallowed, and opened your mouth slowly, those ever-so-watchful brown eyes fixed on you.

You answer him.

@ashthemadwriter​ @nekokinax​ @pianotross​ @pixyys​ @the-mourning-stars​ @fi-nn-losofia​ @i-just-like-goats​

[bonniebird]

Aemond x Fem!Reader  

Requested by Anon​

December event

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“(Y/N)! (Y/N)!” Aemond hissed as he hurried along the road. He saw you hurry round a corner and lost sight of you as your cloak swishes out of sight after you. He grumbled to himself, hurrying through the street while trying his best not to draw attention.

When he turned the corner he saw you for a second before you were swallowed by a crowd gathering around something. By the time he caught up with you, you’d pushed your way to the front of the crowd. 

“Look at that!” You said as you caught a glimpse of what was causing the commotion. Aemond saw it through the crowd too and huffed.

“It is just a reindeer. They are from the colder parts. Nothing special.” Aemond grumbled.

“But they look like funny deer!” You said quietly. Before Aemond could criticise you or point out that Reindeer were deer just the same as the stags in the wood you spotted someone handing out treats for them. “Oh! We should feed one!”

“Feed it what?” Aemond said as he glanced around. Your exuberant delight had caught the attention of several people around you who had begun to stare at the two of you and mutter among themselves.

“Well… don't you have something in your pocket I could feed it?” You asked hopefully. If he didn’t have some kind of snack for his horse he might have enough coin to buy from the man still handing out treats.

"Do I look like I would be walking around with a carrot in my pocket on the off chance that you’d come across a hungry reindeer?" Aemond said and grabbed at your arm. You objected to being pulled away from the crowd which only drew more attention. 

“I wanted to go back!” You complained to no end as Aemond tried to wrangle you back towards the keep. Aemond could now see at least three people following after the two of you and hurried round a corner, hoping to cut through an alley to lose them. 

“There you are! Do you know the commotion that had been caused? No one could find you in the keep. The queen is furious.” Sir Cole hurried up the side road towards the two of you and Aemond let you go. He felt relaxed now that there were two swords to defend rather than just his. 

“(Y/N) wandered off.” Aemond said as he looked down to his left side. Turning to look behind him he groaned. “Seven hells!” He muttered and went back the way he’d come. Cole shook his head and hurried after Aemond who was ever letting you take advantage of his blind side and slip away. He’d suggested that a proper guard be assigned to you but the reply was always ‘Aemond is perfectly good at keeping an eye on (Y/N).’ Cole was quite vocal on the fact that you were quick as a whip and Aemond was down an eye so on the grand scale of things, it wasn’t exactly fair. He’d been told not to speak of it again.

There was a squeal and then shouting which caused Cole to hurry back towards the flea bottom winter market. You’d been sneaking off there all week. Reaching for his sword he stopped and chuckled. Aemond had, clearly growing tired of you sneaking off and escaping, tossed you over his shoulder, his hood fallen back with your flailing and objecting. No matter how you squirmed you couldn’t get away.

“I will feed you to Vhagar if you do not cease!” Aemond now sounded tired and looked quite apathetic to the whole ordeal. Cole hurried to march along beside Aemond who was moving as quickly as he could so that he wouldn’t risk losing his grip on you and having to turn back again. It was the afternoon when he marched into the keep.

“Aemond!” Alicent said sharply as someone hurried off to fetch her. He ignored her and continued his way through the corridors. Alicent, surprised, turned to Cole who shrugged. They both followed him as he made his way towards your rooms. He barged in, startling your handmaiden who was fixing a snag in your winter cloak. He dumped you on your bed and hurried out of the room, pulling on his mother’s arm as he slammed the doors.

“Let me out! I won't stand for this. Let me out!” Your almost childish shrieks could be heard through the door as you rattled them. Alicent raised her eyebrows as your language turned foul upon hearing Aemond locking you in.

“Is that really necessary?” She asked.

“Until you find someone else to keep (Y/N) inside yes it is.” He said as he sat on the floor and sighed. He was rather hungry and tired from running after you all morning. He had a painful spot on his back where you’d smacked at him and he carried you that would no doubt bruise.

“The last three quit and (Y/N) is rather fond of you, Aemond. Is there not anything that could be done?” Alicent asked. Aemond got to his feet when you began to rattle the door again.

“Fetch me a reindeer.” He said as he stretched. 

“A… what?” Alicent asked in surprise.

“A reindeer, mother.” Aemond said as he walked off towards his own rooms in hopes of some peace.

A reindeer was found and presented to you a few days later. It had a golden blanket and a silver leading rope covered in tiny bells that alerted anyone to you and the reindeer coming. To everyone's delight, Aemond’s idea worked and kept you at the keep for two weeks. During the second week, however, the reindeer was spooked and fled the keep coming across Aegon and Sunfyre, who had been out for a ride. Sunfyre, hungry and irritable from the cold as a snow flurry had caught them out during their flight, could not be stopped from devouring the creature in front of you both. Some of the people living in the keep claimed that every time you had a bout of sadness for your lost pet another snowstorm would set in and cause the snow to grow deeper as winter set its claws into Westeros. This rumour was only deepened when, under Helena’s advice, a small lean puppy with a tail like a whip, born late into winter, was given to you the day the snow finally stopped. Aemond’s request to finally have guards sent to look after you was met and Alicent even had someone hired specifically to keep the puppy safe.

aemond tags:

[arc-misadventures]

so rin and ren will also be twins in this reincarnation? Renaissance? Well, you know what I mean, because the net rin deserves a better opportunity to interact with jaune and win her little heart.

Shall We Sing Together Again~?

The Twins: Age Seven.

Training in how to use their respective weapons once more.

Jeanne: Whaa! Ooph?!

Jaune: You okay, Jeanne?

Jeanne: Yeah…

Jaune: Here, let me help you up.

Jeanne: Thanks.

Jaune: No problem.

Jeanne: Haa… I just don’t get it, Jaune… I know how to swing a sword, but every time I swing it I end up kissing the ground! I was never like this in Beacon! Jaune… What’s wrong with me…?

Jaune: How old are you now?

Jeanne: Seven.

Jaune: And, how old were you in, Beacon?

Jeanne: Seventeen. Wait, is that the problem, I’m comparing my young self to my old self?

Jaune: Among other things. You’re body hasn’t developed enough to fight like you used to; Your muscles strength is nothing compared to when you were seventeen. Hell, you’re not even as tall as you were back then. We’re training to be as good as we once were when we we’re in our late teens. It’s gonna take us years before we can even start to bare a fragment of a semblance as we once were. Give it time, Jeanne. We’ll get there eventually.

Jeanne: Haa… I’ve been rushing it haven’t I?

Jaune: A bit. But, we’ve got time to become the knights we once were! Okay, lets stop here for today, cause if you fall again, Mom will accuse me of picking a fight with you, or something.

Jeanne: Yeah, I rather not fall again for the third time.

Jaune: Eighth time.

Jeanne: I fell seven times?!

Jaune: Yeah…

Jeanne: Okay, yeah I need to slow down a lot!

Jaune: That you do. Come on, lets go home.

Jeanne: Okay.

As the duo were walking through the forest, their training swords left behind, Jeanne decided to ask a question that had been plaguing her mind for years now.

Jeanne: Who do you think will be there?

Jaune: I’m sorry?

Jeanne: Beacon Academy, do you ever wonder who will be there? My team JNPR, or yours?

Jaune: Hopefully my, Team JNPR, and Team RWBY. I got along better with them then I did with their male counterparts.

Jeanne: I hope they’re there too. After you came, the guys in my world lost it. And, I couldn’t handle how they viewed me anymore. How the lusted after me…

Jaune: Yeah, that creeped me out too. Did you ‘fix’ that problem?

Jeanne: Yeah, I asked, Headmistress Selma if we could trade, May, for Pyrros. We voted three to one, Pyrros was sent to, Team RWBY, and I got my new little sister on my team! It was the best!

Jaune: May…? May Zedong?

Jeanne: Yeah, did you know her?

Jaune: Not as well as I wanted to…

Jeanne: What happened?

Jaune: We, May, Pyrrha, and I got close… Romantically close… I was going to ask them both on a date. But, then the Fall happened, and they both died… I hope at least those two are there… I want to have the life I dreamed of having with them.

Jaune stopped as he felt a hand on his shoulder, he turned to see, Jeanne gave him a comforting gaze as she gently squeezed his shoulder.

Jeanne: We’ll see them again, Jaune. Just you wait.

Jaune: Thanks, Jeanne.

Jeanne: So, anyone else you’re hoping to see?

Jaune: Since you mentioned it, I was hoping to see, Selma.

Jeanne: Headmistress Selma; Is it because if she was in your world you wouldn’t be stuck in a hellish shadow war that ruined everything?

Jaune: Yeah, pretty much.

Jeanne: I was hopping to see, Rin, again.

Jaune: Why’s that?

Jeanne: I was hopping she could become my sister!

Jaune: Are you going to adopt her like you did with your, May?

Jeanne: No I was hopping you’d marry her actually.

Jaune: …

Jaune: Eh?

[siriannatan]

“Sorry, I can’t concentrate on what you’re saying when your outfit is that tight,” - ScarMumbo

Somehow I managed to avoid making this as angsty and sad as I was worried it might come out when I started.

Mumbo was not having a good day. First, he had to lie to Grian about where he was last night. no, he did not have to go over some boring paperwork for his company. In truth, he was on a very pleasant date with Grian's good friend and long-time crush. A date so good it ended with them in a hotel room, rushing to go back home and get ready for their day in the morning. Rushing and not angry they had to. Mumbo was on enough good dates to know that this one was really good. A date so good he was in a really good mood the whole morning even when faced with a mountain of paperwork and sad that they couldn't hang out Grian.

Well, at least until lunchtime. When he decided to finally have breakfast - brunch if you want to be precise - since he didn't really have enough time in the morning. And, just as he was about to leave the pleasant cute restaurant he had said brunch at, a villain decided to take the shop and everyone in it hostage. And to add to Mumbo's misfortunes, said rookie villain grabbed him as he panicked and tried to escape just to be caught by the city's No. 1 hero.

Hot Guy, and his rather scandalous and revealing outfit. Mumbo was not too secretly a big fan of Hot Guy. Somehow he was very popular among engineers. 

But back to Mumbo's predicament. He was sat on a dusty, dirty rooftop. His suit was crumbled, and his moustache was messed up. His phone was broken, hopefully, he could get his data back. But on the bright side, he had a front-row seat to seeing Hot Guy restrain a villain. Even if his hands were restrained with some sticky, gross goop. He was not thinking about all gross, instead focusing on Hot Guy. Just to distract himself. He was absolutely not ogling the hero and his excellent physique. The only other this fit person he knew was Scar.

And Scar was very nicely built and damn strong and... And there was something very familiar between Scar and the hero. Like something in how he moved. But Scar was always so relaxed and carefree and Hot Guy always had the perfect posture and... Scar walked a bit like him this morning but that could be a coincidence. But as Mumbo kept staring - because he didn't have anything else to really look at - the familiarity became almost ridiculous... 

What was Mumbo supposed to do with that realisation? He wasn't completely sure. Confronting Scar about it seemed like a rude thing to do. But he felt that if he kept it to himself he would say the wrong thing at the wrong time. So maybe he should talk to him? Like now? Now, or once Sc... Hot Guy, dealt with the villain seemed like a bad time to do it. There would likely be no time, media and people all around. Not a good time... Another date? A private restaurant room could be easily arranged.

"Mu... Sir?" Hot Guy's boisterous self looming over him broke Mumbo from his mangled thoughts. The hero and all the see-through parts of his costume. Very tight costume. Were suddenly very close and Mumbo kind of stumbled back and almost fell off the roof.

He didn't fall only because Hot Guy grabbed him and pulled him closer. The hero was saying something and in the next moment, they were moving. Hot Guy didn't move them far. Just far enough so the media would not chase after them or interrupt them. "Are you okay?" the hero asked.

The best Mumbo could offer was a shrug and a weird noise. Real smooth, Mumbo. Real smooth. "I think I'm fine..." he managed to say as the hero patiently waited. "Still a bit shocked by all that... Thank you..."

"No need to thank me," the hero laughed. So similar to how Scar laughed. Mumbo was honestly feeling like laughing himself.

"Um... can I ask you one thing?" Mumbo asked. He really shouldn't delay this if he and Scar are to go on that second date they were talking about. 

"Sure go ahead," Hot Guy shot him a wide, radiant smile.

Mumbo took a deep breath. "Scar?" one word but he was instantly regretting it. He hit the spot. The hero kept staring at him with wide, panicked eyes. Mouth opening and closing like fish out of the water. "I'm not going to tell anyone and..." and he started giggling. “Sorry, I can’t concentrate on what you’re saying when your outfit is that tight, it's distracting..." Maybe he was trying to defuse the situation.

It certainly worked because Scar flopped to the dusty rooftop, laughing along with Mumbo's chuckles. "Mu... Mumbo this is a serious matter," he managed to say and pull up his devious Hot Guy smirk. "How did you even figure out it's me?"

"I have a suit on, you're the one in spandex and sheer mesh," Mumbo grinned back. "And I have an office job I have to go back to," he sighed. He really wasn't in the mood to deal with all of that right now but it'd only get worse if he delayed it. "You kind of moved in a Hot Guy way this morning," Mumbo almost shrugged. "So how am I getting to my office now?"

[yukipri]

The Bad Batch Season 2 Wrap Up Thoughts

I never ended up sharing my thoughts on the Bad Batch S2 finale. Since we're hopefully getting news of S3 tomorrow, this seemed like a good time?

First, to be clear, I love so much about the show. This is not meant to be a complaint thread. But I'm also critical of certain aspects. You're warned.

This is also a compiled Twitter thread!

Spoilers through the end of Season 2!

First off, I can't understate how beautiful the show was, just as an experience. The cinematography, the visual designs, the music. The unique worlds and unique characters. There were so many shots that were breathtaking, haunting. When a scene hits, it HITS.

I love both TCW & Rebels dearly, but cumulative skills + experience as well as new technology clearly shows. TBB, TotJ (and of course TCW S7) are just so captivating to watch as works of art. These shows are, frankly, worth it for that alone. But of course that's not all.

One of TBB's strengths is the depth it gives the worlds the characters visit, as well as the side/guest characters. Perhaps due to the nature of many of the episodes being more of an exploration than straight up war like TCW, but we can see more of these places. TCW also had so many neat planets/aliens/cultures, but due to the constantly pressing war, we were only ever allowed a glimpse and I constantly wished there was more. TBB really scratched that itch. I'm thinking specifically of Kashyyyk, with its fauna and wookiee traditions.

The same with side/guest characters. They all had such great flavor, with fun designs and motives. Phee was a standout among the non-clones. I also loved how it gave us such a personal exploration of characters we knew and loved before, like Riyo.

The thing about TBB is that it's set in such a fascinating time period that we don't have too much media of, at least in new canon. The formation of the Empire is a time where we know all these other characters must be alive and working hard, but we haven't seen it before.

This leads me to the writing. Oh, the writing...

How do I say this. The writing in this show gave me whiplash. Some of the episodes were beyond brilliant, giving us deeply personal character moments, layered metaphors, and context in how it affects the greater SW universe.

Others...not so much.

I understand this is not the case for everyone, but for me personally to enjoy a story, when there are any stakes involved, I need the characters to show some awareness of them, and for these to affect their actions. There are a limited number of episodes and that time must be spent wisely. I don't mean this at all to say that I didn't enjoy the lighter fun adventure missions with the Batch, nor do I think these episodes can't be used productively.

But TBB S1 started off with Crosshair siding with the Empire.

I kept waiting for them to *show* that the others cared. It could be they were troubled, it could be they missed him, it could have been shown in so many ways. I kept expecting these brief moments in the Fun Times episodes, which would have given me some emotional continuity.

The writers are absolutely capable of it! After Plan 99, when Echo glances at the co-pilot seat—stuff like that, I was personally expecting it through all of S1 and S2. I get that the Batch feel they have to do other things and Crosshair made his own choice, but I thought the point was they care about their brother regardless.

Mind you, I'm not the biggest fan of Crosshair, but I do find him interesting. And I felt that in the two episodes most centered around him, he had such tangible growth that was depicted so well. He went from stating that the Batch are superior to regs in S1 finale, to having clear doubts after working with Cody, to shooting a natborn officer because he didn't help a "reg" he'd just met. We see Crosshair being included by the clones he disdains, we see how it compares to the Empire he thought he wanted to be a part of. The writing in Crosshair's episodes were tight, and he went far within them, few as they were.

In comparison, the rest of the Batch...with their far greater number of episodes...what were they doing??

I love character-centric eps, but even on a personal level, I wasn't sure what the charas gained. Tech is the sole exception; he was given many introspective moments, from Sorenno, to Phee, to the cave talk with Omega. Not sure how much he changed, but he expressed himself.

To also be clear, I'm also not including Echo in any of this. He has been the voice of trying to get the Batch to do things, to *change*, since S1. I felt his frustration keenly. Which is why I felt that when he left to go with Rex...I sort of left the Batch with him.

I mean this in the sense that Echo didn't *want* to leave the Batch, not necessarily. He wanted, and he *did* try to get Hunter to care about what their brothers are suffering, and he has been since S1. Echo can't stand to leave them chipped when he could do something.

He wanted the Batch to feel the same. *I* wanted the Batch to feel the same. But they didn't. I see Echo breaking with them less as him leaving, and more as they (or at least Hunter) firmly telling him that that's not their fight, and they're not going to do it.

This isn't the Batch going out of their way to help, or not knowing how. Echo and Rex have given them an open invitation. The Batch know how to help, who needs it, and why. They know their "reg" brothers don't have many if any others fighting for them. The Batch (Hunter) have these opportunities to help and know they are among the few positioned to offer it...and they still walk away.

The Batch (Hunter) sees the other clones fates as none of their business. On one hand, I get that they never fit in, were called names and weren't allowed to sit with the cool kids at lunch. On the other, "they were mean" and "therefore they should be mind-controlled slaves" is grossly disproportional. Likewise it's not as though this fight doesn't concern them. Even if they can't find it in themselves to care about "regs," it's Rex who told them to remove their chips and went out of his way to make sure they did based on info that Fives gathered, without which Wrecker would have killed Omega. Perhaps I wouldn't go as far as to say they *owe* other clones, but my opinion of them certainly continued to drop as they made explicitly clear that they're fine with this being the fate of other clones.

So okay, fine. TBB isn't a story about the Batch discovering they have more alike with other clones than they first thought (other than Crosshair, who actually does get that story). That's what I wanted, alright, I know I'm not getting that at this point.

But then, where does that leave them? What do they care about, what do they fight for?

Their brother...right?

Except...they don't really do that either??? (points at earlier in this rant) At least, until the very last episodes, where an opportunity presents itself, and most of the Batch jumps on it...except Hunter.

The way he's written just *baffles* me. I can't say anything about his personality other than "he cares about Omega," but even that, when at the expense of his other brothers, is tiring. Immediately after Tech gives his life on a mission he wanted to go on to try to save Crosshair, he suggests they all hide away on Pabu (even with the knowledge that Omega is wanted and they're being hunted). I get that he wanted to hide from the pain, but in that context?? Even then, he can't care about Cross??

And then when Omega is kidnapped, the difference in his reaction between that and what happened with Crosshair...it was, frankly, painful.

I feel like by the end of the series, Tech would have been more open to joining Echo/the clones' fight. Wrecker will just go along. Echo has already plunged headfirst into helping others, Crosshair got character growth and defected from the Empire. And Omega has always wanted to help even strangers, but only doesn't when Hunter tells her no.

I feel that Hunter's the one dragging his heels for the Batch to progress, and he's supposed to be the leader.

All of this to say, I've been trying so hard to like the Batch since S1, and they didn't really click for me (other than Echo, who I don't count since I loved him from long before, and still consistently have). But by the end of S2, I think I've concluded that I'd like the others perfectly fine if they were under different leadership that encouraged them to care, to act.

I don't want to say I *dislike* him, but man...I'm super disappointed in Hunter, and I'm not sure if/how that might change.

This leads me to my final thought, which is: I would strongly prefer if "the Clone Story" be told from a different lens than Hunter-centric TBB.

What I mean is, throughout the show, there have been multiple pivotal events that affect all clones, not just the Batch.

The fall of Kamino, the failure of the clones' rights bill are the big ones. But even without those, through the glimpses of the "regs" like Howzer, Gregor, Wilco, Cody, Slip, Cade, and Mayday, we see how the Empire is treating the rest of them as a group.

I'm deeply invested in these boys and their stories, and frankly, all of these boys instantly became my faves in their few moments of screen time. I want more of these, and it feels deeply unfair that they've done so much to tell compelling stories but have so little time.

They are an extension of the clones I love from TCW in a way that the Batch just aren't, and don't seem to be interested in becoming.

Not even that, but we know from Hunter's rejection of Echo that the Batch (Hunter) don't *care.*

Fine, they don't care. But I'm admittedly deeply concerned about how S3 will go, because even if the Batch doesn't care about the Clone Story, they (Hunter) don't seem to be doing a great job progressing their internal story either (Crosshair).

I understand Omega has some crucial background we're *finally* getting to. I want to know why she's special, why she's unaltered. I want to know what she has that Boba doesn't, or if she's just Nala Se's favorite. Maybe that's relevant to the Clone Story.

But frankly, personally, I would prefer if TBB S3 goes full in focussing on building Hunter and Wrecker up emotionally, and just going full in on what it means for them as a Batch to be there for each other. They need that, desperately, without distractions.

I would prefer if the Clone Story (frankly, the story I'm far more invested in) is told through Rex and other clones, who passionately care and are in the fight. If Echo jumps between the 2 groups and links them, great! I think the Batch would make excellent guest characters. But NOT protagonists of a story where they don't care while everyone else does.

I guess all of this to say, it's sad that I think I liked the Batch the most in TCW S7, and my impression of them as a group (which I recognize is largely due to Hunter) has only gone downhill since.

Again, to be clear, I did enjoy the show.

I LOVED eps 3, 7, 8, 12, 14, to the point I'd say they're possibly my favorite eps of any SW show. These eps are conspicuously non Batch-centric. I loved many *parts* of other episodes.

The *show* has given me so much to love. Unfortunately, none of those things are Hunter.

[lostinvasileios]

Hi, I need some advice :) I've been practicing for about a year and a half. I want to get more experience with spells and get comfortable with them, and my finances are bad at the moment too. So, is it a good idea to sell spells online?

I won't just give them out to random people, obviously. If someone wants a spell I'll talk to them one on one, understand their situation, and be really sure that I can help them before I even try doing something serious. And I'll only stick to relatively safer things that won't cause anyone harm if they go wrong. Also, I think genuinely helping people in some way or at least providing them reassurance will make me feel much better, too.

I'm worried about this idea though. Does the greater witch community look down on this type of thing? I know these kinds of Etsy listings are a running joke among non-spiritual people when they want to laugh at us. I also know there are many actual scammers running similar things online, and I don't want to end up like them.

I won't start this if I'm not 100% sure that it's a helpful and positive thing to do. So, I want some input from more experienced witches.

Hi there, sweet friend! Thanks for your ask. ☀︎

Alright, so, firstly; don't worry about "greater witch communities" looking down on you. Selling spells online is a popular, valid thing, and if someone's looking down on you doing so, I'd say simply to try and ignore it. As long as you are comfortable, safe within your work and have the good intentions you seem to, then you're fine!

And, don't care about the non-magical/spiritual people! Their opinion doesn't matter in this sort of thing, honeycomb. People have been bashing/cruelly joking about witches and wizards for beyond a long time now, one thing about being spiritual in my opinion is simply - well - stepping out of what people think of you. Or what you think people think about you.

The fear of becoming similar to a scammer is valid, don't worry. But, understand there's a fine line between what you've described, and what a scammer does. You, from what I've been told, seem genuinely up to the task in helping and reassuring others. Which is great! And 100x better than what a scammer does in these situations. You won't end up like them as long as it's an honest spell casting and you're not intentionally trying to harm the client or yourself.

I think that if you're ready, if you feel very good within your core about this idea, go for it! Make sure to take the proper breaks and set the boundaries, of course. I'm sure that if you truly know what you're doing and trying to get comfortable with spells in general by doing this, you're accomplishing something big with it.

Also! Make sure to take whatever input you get on your craft/practice with spells with a grain of salt and whatnot. Even if someone claims to be experienced, they could potentially just be giving out harmful information. So, cross-reference! Dig into your books and trusted sites. Play around and see what you're best at, what to work on, and what to stay away from for now. I'm rooting for you!!

Take this leap when you're ready. Have fun with your spell journey! Hopefully this could help you in some way. ♡

[phantoms-lair]

A Wolf Among Thieves Part 1

"Hasegawa, been an age."

Zenkichi waved at the barkeep. "Been trying to stay on Akane's good side." There was a period of time after his wife's death that he'd tried to dull to pain with alcohol. It was brief because he'd realized it wasn't working before addiction had set in. But if he came home with alcohol on his breath, well, his daughter hadn't exactly been eager to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"You're not wrecking a good thing by being here are you?" The barkeep asked worriedly.

This was why he favored this bar. "She's on a school trip for the next week and I'm not planning on over indulging." Zenkichi admitted. "And I was wondering if I could try something new. A cocktail called a silver bullet."

"Sake not good enough for you, old timer." The barkeep teased.

Honestly between this and the kids what was with the cracks on his age? "Irony mostly." He admitted without explaining further. Wolf drinking a Silver Bullet? That was funny.

The good mood and comradery wasn't to last. A man who screamed 'thug' entered the bar with a goon on each side. "Yo Pops, you think good and hard about our generous offer?"

The Barkeep scowled. "I have no money for the likes of you."

"That's a real shame." the Thug sneered.

"Such a nice establishment should be protected from any...unfortunate things that might arise. This is your last warning" And time seemed to slow.

Zenkichi the fresh-face police officer would have tried to warn him off.

Zenkichi mourning his wife wouldn't have cared, as nothing mattered

Zenkichi the Public Security Officer would have goaded the punk into attacking him then claim self defense.

Wolf the Phantom Thief...

"This is your only warning." Zenkichi said calmly. "Leave and never come back, or you end up in worse shape than you were going to leave this bar in."

"That a threat?"

"No. A Warning." From now on a lone wolf or not my fangs will shred all evil His fist lashed out and smacked the guy in the throat. "And one you ignored. So sad for you."

The two body guards tried to attack him but Zenkichi dunked out of his chair to the floor. His knee hit the floor hard enough to bruise but not hard enough to stop him. He grabbed a bodyguard's face (a habit from grabbing the masks off shadows) and flung him aside.

Zenkichi's next swing went wide, scrapping his knuckles on the brick interior. He winced, but that wasn't even enough to slow him down. He had far worse, both in and out of the metaverse.

The other bodyguard tried to grab him, but Zenkichi smashed his head with his own and knocked him out like a light. The one he had flung aside looked like he was considering his options, but "If you wanted to run, you should have taken the chance I gave you."

The bodyguards head was forcefully introduced to the floor. And Zenkichi stood dusting his hands, the two bodyguards unconscious and their boss gasping for breath on the floor.

The barkeep whistled. "You fight like a man half your age." "All these cracks about my age."

Zenkichi groaned. "Have you called the police?"

"There's a box around the corner, so I thought I'd give you the chance to get some distance, Mr. Good Samaritan."

Right, as someone who'd been publicly arrested for harboring Phantom Thieves, his coworkers might not react as kindly to this as they once did. And truthfully, he was weighing his options on them still being coworkers for much longer. But he had a daughter to house and feed and wouldn't quit until he had something else lined up.

"At least let me settle my tab."

"You settled it quite solidly. Shoo." Zenkichi tipped his hat, but forgot he wasn't wearing one and just mimed the procedure Now I look even more like a dork and went home.

He thanked his lucky stars again that Akane was out of town, hopefully by then his knuckles would be too healed to notice and his knee could be blamed on his groan age.

He grabbed the bandages and the first aid ointment and washed the blood off his knuckles. Underneath was clean, unbroken skin.

"That's impossible." There was blood on his knuckles, after all. And he remembered scraping them, just as clearly as his knee- his knee that had stopped hurting sometime during the fight. A quick roll of his pants leg revealed no trace of a bruise. In fact a further inspection of himself revealed no injuries at all, including a small cut he knew he'd gotten yesterday.

Okay...this was...okay. Not bad. But he needed some answers or he was going to freak out. But who could he ask? He didn't want to bother the kids, not after everything. And that only left one person.

Zenkichi gripped the sink and stared himself in the eye, "Okay, Valjean. I sealed the contract, but apparently there were some terms and conditions I didn't get to read. I'm not going to renege, I don't regret it. But I'd like to read those terms and conditions now."

For a moment there was nothing and Zenkichi felt uncomfortably like he was just talking to himself, then the eyes in his reflection glowed gold.

"You forget, Hasegawa Zenkichi, that I am your spirit of rebellion made real." It said in the same voice that had berated him so condemningly.

"I haven't forgot it, I just don't know what it means."

"I am the part of yourself you tried to bury for two years, made into power by your acceptance of the truth and your resolve to seek justice."

"I know I know. But that's not what I need answers about."

"You fail to understand. I am a part of you, forged from your soul."

"I didnt forget I-"

"And therefore I know nothing you don't also know."

Oh. Well Fuck.

[kitsunerokko]

"When destruction came for our lonesome island, the Turaga knew it would be time for a new group of heroes to arrive. They would be our protectors, our champions... our Toa. But surely something must be afoot. Those chosen by the stones surely cannot be Dosa Nui's heroes! They had, and continue to have, many... problems, that don't inspire confidence in the Turaga, or myself. Their forms even seem as if the Great Spirit saw our image of the ideal Toa and twisted them. They are not the heroes we wanted, but they are the heroes we've got. And so I must, I must believe in them. Or we are all lost." -Chrouhi the Chronicler

So in the past two days I decided to give my OC Toa team a bit of a facelift, reflecting more of what I've learned of using stud.io since my older renders of the team!

Background Image in the Group Photo is edited from a Creative Commons photo by Horia Varlan.

And for individual character blurbs (written from the perspective of the Chronicler character, and so adescribe them before their character development), can be found after the jump!

"Takara is the team's Toa of Fire. His Toa Tools are the Grand Firestaff and the Flare Buster. As I've chronicled many, many, MANY times, he's long been something of a troublemaker, with pranks, ill-thought-out plans, and plenty of disruption. Including intruding on the duties of yours truly. He initially was considered the leader, until his boneheadedness led to disasterous results and lost him the team's respect. Being a Toa has not changed him one bit, much to my dismay."

"Kaumi is the team's Toa of Water. Her Toa Tools are the Mariner's Boneblade and the Zamor Soaker. She is very headstrong and stubborn, never giving up until she gets her way, no matter whom she may anger. Despite her butting heads with, well, anyone, she has at least proven she has a good heart. I've lost count of how many times she was the head of positive social change in our island's history. No doubt this is why she is leader of the Toa Dosa now."

"Okolu is the team's Toa of Ice. His Toa Tools are the Ice Axe, Zamor Snowshot, and, bizarrely, the Hot-Plasma Launcher. He's... eccentric, is the nicest way to put it. He's got lots of positive energy for sure, but seems to have absolutely no filter and other people always seem to be bothered by him. It's actually kind of sad... especially since he's the source of the current singular friendship among the Toa. Granted, this friendship is with Takara so who knows where that influence will end up. Hopefully Okolu's version of 'annoying' wins, personally."

"Kraani is the Team's Toa of Air. His Toa Tools are the Exoskel Shield and the Airblaster. I've heard complaint after complaint about this guy and his snooty, better-than-everyone-else attitude as a Matoran. And much like the others, no change seen so far as a Toa. While he claims to be more effective and smarter than the rest of the team, he has displayed no such standout prowess, though he blames this on his teammates. A Toa really needs to understand the value of teamwork or the team.. will not work."

"Opuro is the Team's Toa of Stone. His Toa Tools are the Twin Dirk and the Chain Ripper. Opuro is extremely competitive and I've written many incident reports where he took things very far when playing sports, doing tasks... if there's a measurable way to outperform someone at something, he'll do it. Sort of like, if Kraani could actually back up his ego. That's Opuro, though at least Opuro is nicer, somewhat. He seems to at least want others to 'get as good' as him, relishing worthy challenges. As such, after becoming Toa he has been very excited, perhaps even too excited, to fight. We'll see if he can last like that..."

"Leonu is the Team's Toa of Earth...? I think. I've never actually seen him use his elemental powers, and apparently no one else has either. Kaumi thinks he might be of another element entirely, and I may be inclined to believe that. I actually don't have much on him compared to the others, he's almost never come up in any news or events I've covered. And interviewing various Matoran around Dosa Nui doesn't yield much either. He's just, very quiet, very keeps to himself, to the degree people just don't know much about him. Anyway, his Toa Tools... the Inika Staff and the Laser Drill."