#//He can’t let go of that very dear remnant of his childhood with them

[dutybcrne]

I love the idea of Kae having this (1) particular stuffy he carried around with him everywhere as a kid. Maybe it was the first gift ever given to him by the Ragnvindrs or even by Addie, and his heavy attachment and expecting it to vanish if he didn’t always have it on hand had him toting it around everywhere.

[selunesdreams]

Chapter 10: Worse Things Happen at Sea

“Darling, I haven’t drunk from a willing volunteer ever. It’s been all rats, kobolds, wildlife, and enemies since I became like…this.” He gestures towards himself. “Don’t be stupid. I’ll have no restraint. Go back to your room.” Something sinister stirs in Celeste.  “Try me,” she steps dangerously close to him and his mouth goes dry, “I’m very hard to kill.” 

Full Story on AO3

Astarion x Original Female Character

Content (chapter): 18+, blood drinking, trauma. Smut & fluff in other chapters, see AO3 tags or for detailed fic tags and warnings.

Celeste’s nightmares plagued her throughout the day, keeping Astarion awake for hours. He woke her after she startled herself in her sleep for the fifth time, an ache in his chest as he watched her suffering. 

“You’re not sleeping well anyway, pet,” He’d said as she glowered at him. Her demeanor never broke and she never shed a single tear, but Astarion knew she couldn’t hold out much longer.

Voices low, they spent the rest of the day in the half light of his room, exchanging questions about what books they’d read and who his favorite authors were, or which subjects she studied at the academy. They didn’t speak of what transpired between them hours earlier, and Astarion offered no further affections. At sunset, she demanded to see the house - what remained and whether anything was salvageable. 

“If you’d just let me get a few things-”

“No.” 

“You owe me a favor, remember?” 

“I owe you nothing. I saved you from a burning house. We’re beyond even, my dear.” 

Celeste’s defeated expression had gotten the best of him, and he compromised by checking the rubble by himself. To his dismay, he discovered nothing but ash and a steel trunk that had endured the fire but had been thoroughly looted. He plucked a stuffed owlbear from the bottom of the trunk, head lolling from a rip in the fabric of its neck as he turned it in his hands. He had tucked it away in his coat pocket and moved on to Meiroth’s Fine Silks to pick the lock and rob the store of its best garments.

When Astarion returns to the tower. Celeste, Minthara, Karlach and Shadowheart are deep in conversation at the kitchen table, none of them giving him so much as a friendly nod. He goes straight to his room, setting a backpack full of shoplifted clothing for Celeste on the bed as consolation. He pulls a needle and thread out from his desk drawer and makes quick work of the stuffed owlbear’s severed neck. Needlework had once preserved his dignity, repairing the clothes he wore as Cazador’s spawn for years. In his freedom, it has become something of a hobby. 

A soft knock on the doorframe breaks his focus, and he watches as Celeste looks through the bag at what he’d procured for her. 

“Clothes? These are…beautiful.” She says, running her fingertips across the silks, leathers and velvets. “If not expensive.”  

“Don’t fret, my dear. I have a discount,” Astarion says, wiggling his fingers at her with a mischievous grin. 

“Oh you can’t be serious about this one.” She holds up a particularly risqué set of lingerie and Astarion shrugs.

“Wasn’t sure what you were into.”

“Sure…” She cranes her neck as she folds the lingerie and stows it away. “What do you have there?”

Astarion ties off a final stitch and stands, pulling her towards him by her forearm. He presses the floppy owlbear into her hands and she stares in disbelief.

“I…you fixed it. It survived?” Her fingers smooth against a button meant to be its eye.

“That’s all that was there. But it seemed…significant, somehow.” Celeste looks as if she’s about to cry, a rare display of emotion from the Moonborn. “Is it important to you?” Astarion asks. 

“It’s the only remnant of my childhood I have. Everything else is in my vault in Baldur’s Gate, none of it sentimental, really.” Celeste’s words are distant, still focused on the stuffed toy in her hands. She raises her gaze to meet Astarion’s. His ruby irises look softer, almost kind. “Thank you.” 

“It’s nothing.” He waves dismissively and looks away, uncomfortable with gratitude. He stoops and pulls a dagger from between the mattress and the bed frame, holding it out to her. “Here. You’ll need this as well. I presume you know how to use it?” 

Celeste takes the dagger by the handle, turning it in her hands and watching it catch the light from the bedside lamp. “I do.”

“Does your memory need to be refreshed? Or have you been keeping up on your Sharran killing spree?” He asks with a smirk that is wiped away by the shameful look on her face. “Sorry.” He blurts. 

“It’s alright.” She tucks the dagger away.

“Gale secured us two rooms on a ship while I was out. We have to leave soon if we want to board on time. You, myself, Gale and Shadowheart will leave tonight and Karlach and Minthara will follow us on a separate ship tomorrow. Rooms are hard to come by and my days of sleeping on bedrolls are over.” When Celeste doesn’t respond, Astarion takes a step closer to her and cups his hand against her cheek. “We will figure this out.” His voice is nearly a whisper. Celeste nods and pulls away to sling her bag over her shoulder.

On the way downstairs, Shadowheart catches her. “Celeste, come here for a moment, won’t you?” Her tone is friendly, if not tinged with guilt. Astarion nods and continues downstairs alone. Shadowheart hands Celeste a small, dark flower when they enter her room. “Are you familiar with night orchids?” 

“I can’t say I am. Botany is not my strong suit.” Celeste’s thumb grazes across the silklike surface of the petal. 

“They’re my favorite. I told Gale how much I adored them shortly after we’d met, and ever since we’ve been in Waterdeep, I keep finding them on my desk now and then.” Her eyes go dark. “I wanted to apologize, for us maybe getting off on the wrong foot. I’ve been short with you and…I’m working through some things.” Shadowheart gives her a weak smile. “I’d like for us to be friends. Please consider this a token of my apology.”

“Shadowheart, this isn’t necessary. I’ve never taken offense and you’ve been more than accommodating…you’ve taken risks for me-”

“Then let me rephrase. I need a friend. I need someone who understands what it is to suffer as I have. Our stories may not parallel one another, but they have their similarities. I’ve felt such crippling loneliness in the quiet after the Absolute. Without distraction, my grief is roaring in my ears. I push everyone away because it takes so much energy to explain myself. But you…I don’t have to explain it to you. Not all of it, at least.”

Celeste listens, stunned at the cleric’s show of vulnerability. She opens her mouth and then closes it again before looking back at the bloom in her hands. “It’s exquisite, thank you.” Celeste delicately tucks the night orchid into her bag. Shadowheart takes her backpack from her dresser and ushers Celeste out of the room. 

Astarion sits in the den with his legs crossed by the fire, Gale across from him, writing something in a tome. Shadowheart leans in close to Celeste as they descend the staircase together. “Astarion sure does dote on you.” She teases. 

“He does not dote-”

“He dotes.”

The four walk in silence to the docks, Celeste pulling her new cloak around her tightly, part to keep out the cold, part to conceal herself from the feeling of being watched. Morning fog hovers over the grass in thick clouds on either side of the cobblestone streets.

The ship is enormous, but still prioritizes cargo over passengers. There are a few interior cabins below the deck on the second level. Each room is identical: a spacious bed, an upholstered chaise, a dresser with a washbasin, a bathtub in the corner, towels and linens stacked neatly on the bed. 

“Fancy.” Astarion murmurs quietly.

“I certainly hope so. We paid double for it, and they only gave us two.” Gale says. “Hopefully you won’t mind sharing with me.” Gale grins as Astarion lets out a sound of disgust. It would be a long three days. 

“If you and Shadowheart could find it in yourselves to just have a nice-” 

“Please don’t finish that sentence.” Gale enters their room before Astarion can add any more commentary. 

“This must be us then.” Shadowheart opens the adjacent door, her face flushed, leaving Astarion and Celeste standing in the hallway. 

“Have a fine evening…dear.” Astarion’s red irises shimmer as they linger on her for a moment before following Gale and shutting the door.

Gale settles in quickly, electing to sleep in the single bed in shifts: Gale at night, Astarion during the day. Once the ship pulls away from the docks, Astarion wanders the upper deck. His hunger is nearly impossible to ignore, and he knows he’s fucked up and waited too long to do anything about it.

Surely no one would miss one or two crew members…

“Getting some air?” Celeste asks, appearing behind him as he stares out at the sea. He whips around and clears his throat.

“Something like that.” He responds hoarsely.

Celeste’s brow furrows. “Are you alright?’ 

Astarion runs his fingers through his hair, drawing in a slow breath. “I’ll be fine. Just do me a favor and don’t bleed in my presence until we reach Baldur’s Gate and I can drain a criminal or something.” Celeste takes a step closer.

“Are you in need of a favor?” Her face is expressionless, but he can sense the teasing in her voice.

“Oh no, we’re even, and I intend to keep things that way. No more debts on my end.” Celeste tilts her head to the side, studying him.

“You’re starving, aren’t you?”

“I advise you to change the subject quickly, pet,” Astarion growls. 

“You’re no good to me when you’ve gone feral with bloodlust.” Celeste keeps her tone gentle, but Astarion’s bad mood gets the best of him. 

“Darling, I haven’t drunk from a willing volunteer ever. It’s been all rats, kobolds, wildlife, and enemies since I became like…this.” He gestures towards himself. “Don’t be stupid. I’ll have no restraint. Go back to your room.” Something sinister stirs in Celeste. 

“Try me,” she steps dangerously close to him and his mouth goes dry, “I’m very hard to kill.” 

“Celeste-” He rasps as she pulls him back towards the lower deck, wordlessly leading him down a vacant corridor. He feels his fangs lengthen in anticipation and tries to resist as she leans back against the wall. 

“Just a little.”

“Celeste, stop this.” Astarion turns back down the hallway. 

“I trust you,” she whispers after him. Astarion’s eyes widen and before he can stop himself, he whirls around, grabbing her by the wrists and turning her to the wall, pressing himself tightly against her. 

“You’ll come to regret that.” He whispers darkly in her ear before driving his fangs into her throat.

Celeste’s breath hitches as her skin pinches as it’s punctured, a sting that makes her eyes water, but she stays still. Astarion draws from her gently, opposite of the aggressive way he’d just repositioned her. He pins her wrists against the wall and the action drives her wild with arousal, but she remains still. His body shudders with each drop of her blood that fills him. He releases her from his mouth, tongue languidly trailing from her wound to her earlobe, breath quickening as he softly pulls at a fistful of her hair. 

“Tell me to stop, darling. It’s only fair. I will stop.”

She shakes her head with a faint whine. 

His movements become frantic and urgent, desperately trying to resist draining her entirely. Burying his face into her neck again, he feeds deeper and more voraciously until she pleads his name. He’s not a man of much willpower, and it takes all he has to pull away. Releasing her abruptly and pushing himself off the wall, he stalks back to his room, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He doesn’t dare look back at her as she touches the bite, staring after him in shock. 

[getouswh0re]

TOKYO REVENGERS REACTIONS:

❤︎ forever is a long time, but I won’t mind spending it by your side ❤︎

an; how Tokyo Revengers characters realise they have fallen in love with you; warnings: none, slight angst, fluff, slight manga spoilers

characters; mikey, draken, chifuyu, baji

For as long as you could reminisce, MIKEY and you have been thick as thieves, doing all sorts of shenanigans (with most of them being his idea of course) and enjoying the time of your youth together. How you wish good times could stay like this forever; just the two of you running through the labyrinth of streets without having a single worry about what the future has to offer, the thrumming of footsteps echoing against the asphalt pavements as chime-like chortles reverberate in remnants of the dwindling sunset.

The two of you have been through ups and downs throughout the years, yet you and him would always seek for solace in each other’s company. The one incident, though, which brought both of your hearts closer than ever — was Emma’s passing. In the dingy bedroom, it was the first time you saw Mikey’s walls collapsing as he leaned into your chest, raw cries laced with heart-wrenching pain reverberating through the solemn midnight air. It broke your heart to witness the tough blonde in such a state of despair; he had lost way too many people already, and the light that was long lost in his hollow eyes now bore semblance to an impenetrable void — devoid of life, and the will to live.

“Hey, y/n ...” A meek croak cut through the lingering silence. “What does it feel like to be left alone ... before you get to realise all of the people you’ve loved is gone?”

Hearing that, your eyes were glassed with a layer of tears that was threatening to overflow. Nonetheless, you held it back, leaning forward as you pulled the blonde into your arms and gave him a tender hug.

“I know how it feels, Mikey ... it’s painful, you’re left alone, you want the agony to stop ... but you’ll not be shouldering this on your own. I’m here for you ... when you need me, okay? So please ... don’t bottle up all of these feelings by yourself. We’ll share the suffering and live on. Promise?”

People came and go in his life, yet the only one who stayed with Sano Manjiro until the very end was none other than you — his first love.

DRAKEN’S instincts have always been spot-on, and this is the same just like any other time — the only thing special is you being in the picture. From the day you become acquainted with the gang’s vice commander, Ryuguji finds himself gravitating bit by bit towards you. He would look forward to seeing you at every meeting, feeling his heart sink whenever you can’t hang out with him, Mikey and the others; initially the blonde only thinks that it is nothing more than a measly feeling — friends would look forward to hanging out with each other, right?

But it is soon proven to be wrong when an unintentional comment from him reveals his feelings towards you to everyone.

“Where is y/n? It feels a bit different today —“

As if everything is in slow motion, his friends swivel their heads around — stares burning into the back of his skull with their jaws dropped.

“Dude, you’re totally into y/n huh.”

Oh shit.

Before the blonde realises, everyone starts to bombard him with questions; not that they aren’t happy for him who finally manages to find the one, but rather — how do polar opposites like you and Ryuguji attract one another.

“Dude, you’ve totally found the right one!”

“Man I feel jealous that you have your eyes on them first! I would’ve shoot my shot if I were you.”

“If you don’t man up and confess, don’t blame me for stealing y/n off their feet —“

“Hold on!” A yell from him is all it takes to make the gang quiet. “How do you guys know it’s love? I mean it can be anything —“

“Just how dense can you be, idiot?” The others chime in unison.

Someone save him, boy is hopeless sometimes.

To pinpoint how he has fallen in love with you would be immensely difficult for CHIFUYU, there are way too many moments where he just finds himself diving headfirst into love! But if he has to choose the exact instant which kindled the flames of adoration, it would be every little bits about you which make him lovestruck.

He loves how your gaze softens at the sight of pets running around every time you come and visit him at the pet store he works at, cooing over how endearing you look as your eyes crinkle when kids wave to you on the streets, admiring your patience and kindness towards everyone you meet — the list goes on and on. Falling in love with you (to him) feels like a typical romance troupe which he has read ad nauseam in shoujo mangas, yet experiencing it firsthand is definitely a first for him.

And of all the attributes he loves about you, the one which makes Chifuyu ascertain his feelings is how you could see the good in people whom you hold dear to your heart — him included.

The sky fades into a myriad of pomegranate pink and indigo as the two of you hang out at the park after the gang meeting has ended, each of you eating an ice cream. With you finishing yours first, you turn over to look at the blonde, only to discover that he has some smudged on his cheeks. Seeing this reminds you of your childhood years together where Chifuyu also had ice cream smeared over his face — the nostalgia of it making giggles roll off your tongue, earning a perplexed look from the vice captain of the first division.

“What are you laughing at y/n??” It only make you laugh harder as his whining reaches your ears.

“Nothing! It just reminds me of how we used to hang out at the same spot when we were younger, also eating ice cream whilst watching the sunset. You also had ice cream all over your face back then. I can still remember that cute ass look on your face ~”

“Come on, it’s in the past! Stop mentioning it y/n, I’m going to die from embarrassment before long. You better attend my funeral —“

“Cute and dramatic as ever Fuyu.” You give him a tap on the nose. “But you know what? I feel so glad that fate brought me to this adorable kid with ice cream all over his face back in the days, and I’m grateful for having you in my life Chifuyu.”

Poor boy almost suffers from a heart attack.

BAJI adores your duality; whether it is watching you coo over street cats or casually firing comebacks at his occasionally snarky remarks, he embraces both sides of your personality, thinking it is what makes you unique to him. Other than that, the teen finds himself drawn towards you for another reason. Being the motherly figure of Baji and his friends, you would always make sure they take care of themselves, chiding them gently whenever they neglect their health; it is something in which he values a lot — he might be known as one of the toughest fighters in the gang, but Baji is also a teenager at heart.

Whenever he needs to vent, you would be there to lend an ear; every time he falls ill, you would rush to his house with warm chicken soup and all the necessary medications to take care of him until he feels better (despite him telling you that he is capable of taking care of himself, which he isn’t). Occasionally Baji would show up outside your bedroom window bartered and bruised, and you would put aside the things you are doing at that moment to dress his wounds, giving him a nag on how he should prioritise his safety over anything else.

You are like a pseudo parental figure to Baji — his solace and anchor whenever life doesn’t go as what he expects; he could never ask for more from you, but deep down — the teen knows that people would eventually drift apart someday.

And a part of him wished this would last forever, that he could let down his walls and be the middle school Baji that yearns to be taken care of by nobody other than you.

The longer he’s spent time around you, the more the queer sensation in his gut stirs. Baji could feel his heartbeat becoming frenzied each time he is hanging out with you, and his usual confident facade would drop as the teen stutters over words. And being rather dense at the beginning, nothing dawned upon him until Mikey and the rest almost have to withhold the urge of bonking Baji in the head for not realising how he’s fallen head over heels for you, did he realise all of this is love after all.

[petri808]

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

Inukag AU

“Ready to go, dear?” Mrs. Higurashi asked her daughter as the young woman looked around the room one last time.

Inuyasha watched carefully, noting the hints of nervous energy flowing from Kagome as she nodded, seemingly going along with leaving the hospital. She was finally discharged, and one would think it would be a happy moment, but based on those subtle changes, he suspected otherwise. Inuyasha didn’t want to alarm anyone, so he dutifully followed behind, carrying Kagome’s small suitcase. He could ask her later in private.

The entourage that joined in were, he, Miroku, and Sango trailing Mrs. Higurashi and Kagome in separate vehicles back to the Higurashi residence. They’d left the decision up to Kagome as to where she wanted to go, and she’d picked her childhood home. Inuyasha couldn’t say he was happy about it, but it was understandable under the circumstances. It would be too weird for her to go to their home so soon when he was still really just a stranger in her eyes. So, to make the transition as painless as possible, they’d brought all the things Kagome would need and placed them in her old bedroom. Sango helped to gather and pack all the clothes, toiletries, and any other items she was sure a young woman would want to have. While he and Miroku did the heavy lifting and transporting of the boxes. It was… painful for Inuyasha. To see their shared bedroom barren of half its contents as if they’d broken up for good. The room was cold enough, and the emptiness now exacerbated. Tonight, would surely be the hardest-to-date to go home.

But alas, Inuyasha knew he couldn’t let this pain consume him. He was making great strides in endearing himself to Kagome again, so to risk it all by letting emotions ruin it, would be the stupidest thing in the world. Three and a half months of the loss of Kagome’s presence already felt like a lifetime of heartache he wouldn’t wish upon his worst enemy. Well, except for the one who helped to put him in this mess. But it wasn’t fair to blame it all on his ex. He was a big boy. The burden was just as much if not more on his shoulders. So, Inuyasha chose to use that acknowledgment to motivate him and not let the pain drag him down. This was a second chance at a redemption he was lucky enough to be granted. Though it was extremely awkward at times. Kagome’s personality was fully intact and still very much the sweet, yet feisty brunette that had stolen his heart. Dealing with everything really brought back all those feelings one gets when starting a new relationship. Excitement and dread to not do or say the wrong thing or make a bad impression. He wasn’t in the same depressed and angry mental space as when they’d originally met, but the anxiety was definitely back full force.

Once they were all settled at the Higurashi home, Mrs. Higurashi and Sango went off to the kitchen to prepare a dinner for everyone. Miroku stayed in the living room tending to the twins, which left Inuyasha alone with Kagome. With her consent, they were in her bedroom, he helping her to carry and move boxes, or put away items to make it feel like home again.

“Is it weird,” Kagome questioned as they puttered around the room. “Being in here for you?”

“A little,” Inuyasha answered honestly. “I’m comfortable in here after all these years, but it’s different now.”

The woman nodded her head quietly, clearly in the throes of her own thoughts. “My mom mentioned you stayed for a short time in here… after the accident.”

Inuyasha stopped moving and turned to Kagome. “I did. I hope that wasn’t a problem.”

Again, Kagome shook her head without a verbal response. “It’s just— strange, even for me to be here.” She continued after a long, exhaling pause. “My last memory is of the college dorms, so to move straight back here is weird too.” She sat down on her bed. “I… feel like I’m not supposed to be here.”

He moved closer, sitting on the bed too, but leaving an arms-length between them. “Stop me if it’s too uncomfortable, but… I couldn’t help but notice you seemed sad or nervous back at the hospital. I didn’t wanna say anything with everyone around, but… if you wanna talk, you know I’m here for you, right?”

Kagome slowly nodded. “You’re right, Inuyasha. I was nervous about leaving. Not because I wanted to stay, just nervous about what to expect once I did leave. I’ve been trying so hard to process everything going on and to stay positive, but it’s not always easy.”

Inuyasha could feel a verge of tears building in the woman’s eyes and it sent a pang to his heart. He hated seeing her have to go through all this. Hated himself for having caused all of this. It brought a wave of his own tears to the forefront. “I’m so, so sorry Kagome,” his head and ears drooping. “But I promise to help you through this. Even if at the end we part ways, I just wanna make sure you get through this.”

“I know,” she smiled weakly. “I believe you, and you don’t have to keep apologizing Inuyasha. You didn’t intend for any of this to happen.”

He made a bold move and reached out, placing his hand over hers. “Could you tell me, what is scaring you the most right now?”

Kagome paused. “Mmm, it’s the not recognizing things. I’m sure there’s been changes during the time I can’t remember. What if I don’t recognize places around town and get lost? What new technologies have popped up? There’s just all these unknowns— and it kind of scares me a little. It feels… like I’m all alone even though I’m not alone. Does that make sense?”

“I think… I understand. Everyone around you knows what’s going on but you don’t, so it makes you feel alone?”

Kagome snapped to attention with excitement. “Yes! That’s exactly it!”

With no chance to process the elation, Inuyasha found himself being hugged by the woman so tightly, he could do nothing but melt from the contact. His arms wrapped around her to return the gesture, pushing all the calming energy could into Kagome that he could. It felt… breathtaking to be in her arms again and he couldn’t stop himself from burying his face into her hair, smelling the strawberry scented shampoo he’d grown to love on her.

When Kagome finally pulled away, a few happy tears trickled down Inuyasha’s face. Concerned, she reached out to his cheek and wiped them away. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“No, no,” his hand covered the one resting on his cheek as he smiled weakly, struggling to hold back the dam. “I’m sorry for crying, it just… I just,” a few more tears rolled down. “I missed you so much Kagome. I-I know this is much harder on you, but Kami I just miss you so, so much.” That was it, Inuyasha couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. “It hurts to not come home to you. I swear I’m gonna insane sometimes wishing I could go back in time, so the fight and accident never happened. When you hugged me, it just felt so comforting, that…” his words choked, and all he could do to stop from rambling was let out a long sigh.

Kagome smiled and smoothed her thumb against his skin, “it’s okay to let it out, Inuyasha. I get it. This is hard on both of us. I’ll admit it’s a little surprising to me too how natural it feels to be here with you.”

“You’ve always been the better person,” Inuyasha mumbled out. “The one who could always make things better. Me, I’m just winging it.”

“I think you’re doing just fine,” she smiled. “One step at a time, right?” Kagome cupped both his cheeks. “Like you said, we’ll get through this. I have faith we will.”

Inuyasha nodded quietly, sniffling the last remnants away. “I really don’t deserve you Kagome.”

“Hush. I saw something special in you once, and based on what I’m seeing now, I was right. Do you really think I’d have given you the time of day if I didn’t think you deserved my attention?”

“No…”

“Exactly.”

That made Inuyasha snort a laugh. “Kami. This is why I fell so hard for you. You were never too afraid to call me out on my bullshit!”

Now it was Kagome’s turn to blush. “Thanks… I guess?”

Inuyasha smiled and chuckled. “I’m glad we could talk to each other like this again.”

“Me too,” Kagome smiled.

After that night, every night, Inuyasha called Kagome after dinner to see how her day went and to tell her, “sweet dreams.” During the first few calls, there were more silent moments than talking moments despite their breakthroughs, but it was improving. They’d play games like 20 questions to spark a conversation, which often did the trick, or if in a particularly good mood, a mild form of truth or dare. It was a great way for Kagome to ask anything she wanted to of Inuyasha and no matter how tough the subject matter was, he’d answer them truthfully. She was having to learn about him all over again, so he did his best not to get upset if Kagome didn’t know something as mundane as his favorite brand of chips, or what his favorite color was. Sometimes he was tempted to test her memory to see if telling a falsehood would gain a pause, but in the end thought against it. He couldn’t risk upsetting her, even if it was meant as a tease.

As he sat on the Higurashi’s couch next to Kagome fidgeting with his fingers, the nervous energy was obvious from both sides. Inuyasha pressed forward despite the butterflies in his stomach threatening to unfurl his breakfast.

“No really, you tell me what you’d like to do?” Even though Inuyasha knew a lot about Kagome, he didn’t want to behave as if he did.

“But you’re the one asking me out on a date. Shouldn’t you have something planned in advance?” Kagome retorted in exasperation of the ridiculous back and forth going nowhere.

“I figured it would be nicer if you chose.”

“Oh.” Kagome paused. “I guess I assumed since you know me already, you’d just pick a place I like.”

“I mean, I could, but I didn’t think that would be very fair.”

“Inuyasha, it’s okay. I promise. I accepted the fact you know a lot about me, so something as simple as dinner or a date, it’s okay to choose.”

“Sorry, I just didn’t wanna do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

Kagome smiled and took his hand. “And I appreciate it, really I do. But could we just pick somewhere already? I’m starving!”

Inuyasha chuckled, his frayed nerves dwindling away. “Yes, m’lady. There’s a new sushi place that I think you’ll like…”

On his days off, they went out together on dates, sometimes him choosing the location, sometimes her. Since she couldn’t remember the last 5 or so years, there were several changes around town that were new to Kagome. Initially, she’d worried before leaving the hospital about how she’d feel about all the changes, but those concerns had melted away, and her excitement often became infectious for Inuyasha. She’d drag him around to see the sights, almost wanting him to show her all the changes. He rarely went out, so there was a lot for him to learn too. Baby steps were the name of the game. Simple dates, no touching yet, not even hand holding, letting Kagome guide the pace. Inuyasha also found their times together becoming more exciting to him. Over time, all relationships tend to find a groove where one feels comfortable, settled. Not that there’s no excitement anymore, but it’s just not the same as the rush of a brand new relationship with all the what if’s, the embarrassing moments, and heart racing unknowns.

No matter how many dates they’d gone on so far, each time Inuyasha pulled up to the Higurashi home, the same flutter of energy pulsed inside of him as if his inner demon just couldn’t wait to see its chosen mate again. Inuyasha was still nervous about the future, but so far things were going great between he and Kagome. Who would have thought such a horrible circumstance could lead to this kind of exhilaration? Because he swore… he was falling in love all over again.

[razorblade180]

Red Carpet

Stardom! It’s a thing that runs rampant all over Remnant. Dozens of heroes, legends, leaders, and rising stars get noticed almost every day for one remarkable reason or another. However, not all stars are the same, and that couldn’t be more apparent than the night of Remnants red carpet event. A gathering of only the finest of stars and their guests were invited to this prestigious event in order to partake in awards, premiers, and anything else the year had to offer. As usual, people and paparazzi came in droves to get glimpses of their idols; all of them anxiously waiting for first timers and veterans of the event. It was the one time to get so many celebrities together. The one time people get to see all the Schnees together. Or at least in the same area…

Valerie sat in a limousine, anxiously waiting for the moment she would have to leave the comfort of it and face all the flashing lights, which wasn’t an entirely new experience. The freshman had gotten used to that sort of thing from being an up and coming athlete, but a stadium was a far cry from anything of this magnitude. This was where the big fish were, and Valerie wasn’t even one of them. She was a plus one. The girl rubbed her fingers through her fresh pixie cut and took another look at the positively pink, shimmering dress she was wearing that stopped just above her knees. In reality, Valerie thought she looked exactly like the name of her hair cut. Even the pink flats she wore looked right out of a fairytale book. She wasn’t one for makeup up, but that wasn’t gonna fly today. Her mother had given the girl a bit of blush and lip gloss to add to her beauty. The only thing that wasn’t touched was her beautiful turquoise eyes. Those gems were fine all on their own.They would probably distract people from the orange studs in her ears. She was certainly dressed for the event but the butterflies in Valerie’s stomach kept her nerves on edge, unlike her date.

Across from her was the very person who gave her the plus one ticket, resting their eyes as if this was some kind of field trip. Oh how the other half lives, but that’s always how Nicholas Schnee has been. Valerie has probably seen him in formal attire way more than regular clothes at this point. His trademark pure white blazer, shoes, and dress pants looked as flawless as ever. The splash of color this time around was an orange tie that matched Valerie’s hair and pink undershoot to go with her dress. Nick’s messy head of snow white hair was slicked back for the occasion and a very expensive looking watch on his wrist looked like ice itself. All in all, the young man looked like every bit of the heartthrob the media made him out to be. Nick’s eyelids lifted slowly, revealing his icy blue eyes that immediately met Valerie’s. It was completely unfair for anyone to look that good waking up, it was one of many things that made people call him a modern day prince.

“How was your beauty sleep? It’s not like you to doze off.”

“I always try and rest before these things since they can drag on.” His voice was still a little low from waking up. What was it about boys that made their tone feel entirely different after waking up? Between that and the usual tiredness around his eyes gone, Nick was liable to be the centerpiece of this event. Something that made Valerie let out an exhausted sigh.

“Are...you okay?” Nick asked. “You’ve been this way since I picked you up.”

“Oh it’s nothing. I just can’t believe I was roped into this. Actually, scratch that, being roped in implies I had a chance to resist. I had the rug completely pulled out from under me.”

“Oh don’t be like that. You wanted to go here anyways.”

“Yeah well I was expecting to have my own invitation and to be with the rest of our family.” Valerie crosses her arms and huffs. “I mean I know freshmen don’t get too much attention from the public but I’ve been putting up some really strong numbers in multiple sports. I mean I’ll be representing Atlas in the fighting tournament for crying out loud!”

Nick looked at his childhood friend get cartoonishly pouty about such a thing. “Don’t forget, it’s not like I’m entirely here on my own merit either. I don’t believe many people are lining up to see me because I got gold in ice skating. Status got me here, everything else reinforces my validity. Next year will be a little different fortunately. That’s when we’ll start gaining real traction; think of this as your test run.”

“Yeah yeah…” It sucked how much Nick was right sometimes.Valerie had taken a few minutes to turn on the mini tv in their ride. The event had started a little while ago, but showing up early or in a group wasn’t in the plan from the get go. The Schnees had a certain way this event had to be tackled. Valerie’s attention shifted back to Nick to ask why that is, but was mentally derailed by the boy staring at her with a gentle that made Valerie thankful for the blush on her face. “Can you quit it already?” She said, with a hint of embarrassment.

Nick let out a small chuckle and raised an eyebrow. “Quit what?”

“Staring, you dummy…”

“But you look so gorgeous.”

Valerie squinted at him for saying such a thing. Nick quickly raised his hands in peace, caving into laughter.

“Wait, I promise I’m not trying to make a move or anything. I just can’t help but look at you. It’s like I’m looking at some kind of magical fairy. I can’t look away!”

Valerie couldn’t help herself. She covered her face and turned towards her window. “Yeah? Well….thanks. I forget how nice you can clean up as well.” Calling him handsome was too much for the girl, but he definitely knew that’s what she was going for by the cheerful expression on his face. Damn him! Valerie knew she was being read like a book. “Can you not look so cheerful while I’m freaking out?”

“What’s there to freak out about? Paparazzi aren’t anything new. Neither is a crowd or flashing lights.”

“I know that, but…” Valerie felt a knot start to form in her stomach. A glimmer of guilt started to fill her heart, as well as show in her eyes.”People might-”

“This doesn’t change anything between us.” He cut her off. “Yes, the media will probably try to insinuate something but it won’t be anything we can’t dismiss later on. Nick casually leaned against the car door, his eyes on the tv. Dozens upon dozens of rich people were still arriving with their family, including kids. Kids that were his age. “Girls always try to approach me during these things, asking for favors and trying to hassle me. You going with me means less of that happens. My family is so important that we have no choice but to arrive at different times and locations so we aren’t overwhelmed. It also forces the cameras to spread out.”

Valerie watched the boy’s face get a little tired just thinking about it. Almost every facet of Nick’s life was like its own personal battlefield with him as a general that was constantly making a plan to survive. Then there was her, worrying about rumors. Some friend she was.

Valerie reached for his hand and held it tight. Nick was immediately snapped out of his trance and was greeted with the soft smile he loved so much.

“Just leave things to me tonight. Focus on enjoying yourself.”

Nick’s heart nearly flew out of his chest. He doubted Valerie was using her ability on him and yet she made him feel so at ease. He gave her a confident nod and the two of them went back to acting more of less like their normal selves.

“I have to say though, it’s pretty telling one of your biggest complaints is too much attention from girls.”

“Well maybe if they were interesting or actually wanted to get to know me then I’d complain less. Being beautiful doesn’t mean much when that’s all you have going for you. If more girls were like you or Veronica, well actually, yeah there would be chaos. Never mind.”

“Hey! Don’t lump me in with that stuck up princess. My brand of chaotic is way more appealing.” Valerie said, puffing out her chest.

Nick could only laugh. “That’s the part that annoyed you?”

“Listen, I’m well aware I’m also a bit of an acquired taste for people, but she’s literally ten times worse! Speaking of the demon, why not pick her as your date. She’s here with her parents right?”

“Not exactly.” Nick smiled mischievously. Valerie was about to ask why when a sudden cheer from outside and the tv got louder than the rest.

“Ladies and gentlemen, there she is! Atlas’s favorite teen idol!” Cried a reporter, giving the answer to Valerie’s question.

xxxx

Flashing lights went off every second on the carpet like if they were the grand finale of fireworks. All for the chance to get the most elegant shot possible of Nicholas’s twin sister, Summer Schnee. Like her brother, the young singer had walked this carpet before and knew how to work it. If the stage was her home away from home, then this place might as well be her castle, and Summer had no problem giving her subjects the most regal display possible.

The girl wore the most beautiful flowing dress that went down to her ankles that twinkled with sapphire blue and piercings white flakes that looked like crushed crystals. The long sleeve dress itself started off blue at the bottom but as got to her waist, spiraled into an angelic white; making the right side of her torso and sleeve white, while the left remained blue. Her usual ponytail was abandoned and her waist long hair flowed like a river silk while her ears showed off dangling gems. One diamond and one sapphire that were on the opposite side of their respective color on the dress. Despite it all, no blue matched the deep blue of her eyes, proof of her relation to her dear father.

The people were going crazy for her. Everywhere she waved, a person asked her to smile. Summer had no problem with the attention but it’s not why she enjoyed this event. What made her day was the little girls and boys that were scattered just behind the carpet line with their home made signs. She gave a little boy a wink and his entire face turned red before hiding it behind his sign. Vanity pictures could happen any time, but making a kids day like that? That’s what made tonight worthwhile in her opinion.

“Summer Schnee in the flesh everybody, and looking stunning! This star was nominated for a few awards tonight. May she get all that she deserves.” The reporter ran up to her to ask a question. “Ms. Schnee! Over here!”

“Please, Summer is just fine. I may look like my mother but I think I’m still a bit too young to be called that.” Summer laughed.

“Okay then, Summer. If you don’t mind, where’s your plus one? We’d love to get a few photos.”

Internally, Summer let out the longest sigh of agitation. She knew full well this was gonna happen. It always does! Her face gave no such reaction to her thoughts however. As far as anyone who wasn’t in the loop could tell, Summer gave a genuine smile of excitement and joy. “No problem!” She pointed a little ways behind her in the direction she came from. Multiple people turned their heads like if they were trained animals. More camera snapping continued and even the reporter lit up when she found the target of so many eyes.

“Oh! Ms- ummm should I call her Ms, or use her name?”

“Don’t worry I got it. Hey Vee Vee!” Summer tried not snicker. Veronica hated that nickname, but what was she going to do? They might not get along but they know better than to fight in front of so many important people.

Summer’s voice reached the cat ears of her “date” despite all the noise and Veronica turned around. She almost forgot where she was and thought about flipping the girl off for using that nickname. That would’ve been a disaster for sure. Veronica overall wasn’t getting as much attention from the media as Summer, but definitely left more people speechless. She had decided to wear a slimming, strapless black dress that stopped a little about her knees and showed a little of her back since the dress was cut in a ‘v’ shape from behind. Her luscious black and blonde hair had been curled fabulously while her amethyst necklace complimented her eyes, nails and lipstick. The girl looked like a whole damn model! Even the way she walked in her black, four inch heels made Summer more than a little jealous. It was hard not to wish she had the body of a gymnast instead of a petite ballerina. Genetics were cruel like that. To top it all off, Veronica’s tail wrapped around her own waist to give off the look of her wearing a belt of some sort.

“You called?” Her hand wrapped around Summer’s waist instinctively. People loved seeing the girls so close. Summer did her part by slightly leaning on the taller girl.

“Oh people just wanted to see Atlas’s fledgling singer and Menagerie’s child of unity in some photos together.”

Veronica smiles at the cameras and waved to the people with Summer by her side. The female reporter beside them seemed to genuinely be moved by the sight. “You okay?” Veronica asked.

“It’s just very moving to see you two be a shining example for our youth. Humans and faunus being friends like this is still a pretty big deal.”

“Don’t I know it? As the daughter of a human and faunus, acceptance is the number one thing I look for in any place I visit. Both of my mother’s are very active in easing tension between our races. With one of them being the leader of an equal rights movement and the other being an accomplished huntress that serves the people, spreading fairness is in my dna. As a half breed, I like to believe I have a certain obligation to do the same.”

Summer was surprised. Veronica handled that topic like a pro. Summer knew that the aspiring fashion designer has had to make several speeches and attend rallies in the past in place of her mother Blake, but speaking as effortlessly as Veronica just did about a heavy subject was still impressive for their age. “I think you’re surpassing that obligation.”

Veronica was caught off guard by the compliment. She knew Summer wasn’t being rude or sneaking in any jabs. It was just an actual compliment. Veronica supposed that she could let that nickname incident slide, just this once. “Well thank you. Now then, I believe we should be moving along a bit. People to see, hands to shake. Nice meeting you Ms…..?”

“Lavender.” The reporter said, shaking Veronica’s hand.

“A pleasure, our parents should be further back or on the opposite side of this auditorium building. I’m sure they’ll love any questions you have.” Veronica didn’t wait for a response and casually pulled Summer along. “The nerve of some people.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I know right?” Summer sighed, “She pretended as if she didn’t know who my plus one was when I'd announced it for weeks. I think she was about to ask about my family’s troubled history with faunus.”

“Or bring up any other awkward questions. Bringing up politics when parents aren’t around, I hate reporters.”

“Especially when they pretend to be emotional.” Summer looked at Veronica and the girl did the same. Both of them sighed in unison. They had intent on arguing tonight. All their energy had to be saved for people like Ms. Lavender. Tonight was gonna be a long night.

xxxx

“I CAN’T BELIEVE THEY ARE SMILING TOGETHER!” Valerie cackled, “Is this how you get decent photos of them!?”

“It’s the only way! I can’t get those two that close to each other without arguing on a regular day” Nick made sure to screenshot the pictures of the two ladies so they can see them later. He had to get some kind of entertainment from tonight.

“I honestly can’t believe Yang was okay with her showing that much skin.” Nick commented, “Makes me wonder what Blake and her are wearing. They’re into themes”

“Are we going to be the last to arrive? My parents just met up with yours.” Valerie showed him the text.

“Yeah, everyone else drew straws apparently on what entrance and what order to go in. We are the very front entrance, so be ready for all those lights going off in your face.” He half joked. No one could be ready for that mess.

Valerie grabbed the remote and started flipping through different news outlets. “I bet we can find the rest of our family on a different station.”

“Go to seven, It tends to get the business people.”

“Roger that.”

xxxx

“Woohoo! Hello party people!” Yang shouted into the crowd. Her approach to these events were always the most laid back, but that didn’t mean she didn’t dress the part. Yang left the crowd speechless with her all black attire. Dress shoes, pants, and a killer blazer she wore three fourths open; plenty of breathing space to let everyone know she wasn’t wearing a shirt underneath it. Yang’s nails were painted yellow to match her hair and her favorite aviators were on her face so the camera flashes wouldn’t irritate her. As the fifth ranking huntress in the world, member of the esteemed team RWBY, and wife of the leader to the biggest faunus rights movement, there wasn’t a soul who didn’t know who Yang Xiao Long was.

“Hey Blake, you think Veronica is doing well?” Yang turned to see her wife in the middle of answering a couple of questions. Considering the reporter didn’t look like some corporate stiff in a suit, Yang can only guess the questions were either about her outfit or how the woman was doing. Either one would be a very good question.

The raven haired beauty had on a fiery orange and yellow dress that shined as bright as her smile. The right side of the ankle length dress had a slit that went up to the middle of her thigh and her open toed wedge heels matched both the dress, as well as her black nails. Blake spared no expense. She even let her hair grow to shoulder length for the event. She had gotten tired of the bob cut. Yang managed to sneak up behind her wife and make lovey dovey expressions, as if she hadn’t seen Blake look so beautiful before. It was enough to get a laugh out of the reporter and make Blake turn around to see her goofball of a spouse. Yang tilted her shades down so her playful lilac eyes could meet the snarky amber eyes of Blake.

“Mind if I drop in on this interview?”

“I think you already have.” Blake said, her voice carrying a bit of teasing in it. She got pulled into Yang’s arms from behind and they both smiled at the young man who was now interviewing two people.

“So what question did I interrupt?” Yang asked.

“I was just asking your wife how the long trip from home was treating her. I’d say pretty good considering she’s all smiles tonight. How are you doing, Mrs. Xiao Long?”

“I’m great! I like this event, it gives me reason to come up here and say hello to a bunch of my friends.”

“Ah yes, the other half of your team live in Atlas, and then some. Have you gotten the chance yet?”

“Unfortunately my little sis was never one for dress up so I’m sure I’ll have to come knocking. I’m sure Ruby will have an opinion or two when she sees my outfit.” Yang let a chuckle. She hadn’t mentioned her clothes for no reason.

“Speaking of outfits…” and the reporter fell for it perfectly. “You both look wonderful! Who made these?”

Blake and Yang grinned cheekily. Events like these have a way of giving other people and topics more spotlight then they usually did. It would be foolish not to give a boost to the person they love most. “Our daughter Veronica Belladonna made these!” They said in unison. The girl was way too far away for her to possibly hear them, but they knew she was gonna flip out later.

“Well your daughter has quite some talent. I gotta say, you both just might be the most popular couple here tonight.”

That put a bigger smile on Yang’s face. “Thank-”

“OH MY GODS! IT’S RUBY ROSE!” A voice cried out from the crowd before Yang could finish her thank you. All the attention the couple had gotten had suddenly vanished as cameras and people turned towards a long white limousine with the letters ‘SDC’ on the side of it that had just pulled up.

Blake knew that vehicle anywhere.It was the favorite ride of the CEO of the Schnee Dust Company. “That’s Whitley’s ride. There’s no way he actually got Ruby to- oh he did!” Blake said, shaking Yang and leaving her jaw dropped. The cat ears are never wrong, and she definitely could hear their leader amongst the excited crowd.

Yang stood on her toes to get a better view. What she saw was a sight to see indeed. “That little stinker.” Yang smiled, impressed and feeling challenged in the looks department. Sure enough, the number one huntress in all of Remnant was walking with her husband down the red carpet in absolute style.

There wasn’t anybody around who wasn’t taking in the sight of Ruby wearing a stunning silver dress that stopped right above the women’s knees; showing off her toned legs for once and doing it in heels nonetheless! They matched her dress perfectly which also made her silver eyes pop out more surprisingly. Probably due to her red and black hair that was pulled back into a ponytail, except for a long bang that went across to the right side of her face. Though this outfit wasn’t in her favorite colors, Ruby was still plenty on brand. A red rose corsage rested comfortably and her nails were red, with one on each hand being black. Yang wasn’t sure from her but it was entirely possible her little sister might’ve even opened up a makeup kit before showing up. Her complexion was perfect!

Ruby’s appearance might’ve been the most shocking thing to happen at this event, but it was only elevated by being at Whitley’s side. Like Blake and Yang, the couple had the bright idea to swap color schemes. Whitley wore a dark red blazer with pitch black dress pants that matched the buttons on him. His undershirt was black with an intensely red necktie and his black shoes were strung up with red laces; a completely different look for the white haired and blue eyed man. His hair was slicked back like his nephew. Just like Ruby, he retained a splash of his typical colors but pinning a white rose on his suit. Blake didn’t know how, but Whitley made it work.

He was the first to notice the two of them staring while Ruby was busy throwing out peace signs to the people that were more than thrilled to meet her. The reporter interviewing Blake and Yang might’ve ran to her as well if Ruby hadn’t been slowly making her way over to his direction for obvious reasons. Ruby continued greeting people with a smile until her eyes found Yang, now the antics started. Ruby signaled Whitley with a wink and he couldn’t help but chuckle at her childishness. He wrapped his arm around her waist and the two started walking with more poise and smiles that oozed confidence, as if they were on a runway. The crowd went absolutely crazy. The clothes, the style, the attitude, they were…

“Blake! They’re trying to out couple us!” Yang said, shocked by the declaration of war that her sister had thrown their way.

“Ummm, don’t you think you’re a bit paranoid? I think they’re just putting on a show for the crowd.”

“I know my sister. She’s trying to take me down a peg or two for old times sake.” Yang put a hand on her hip and boasted the same confidence her sister did, sly smirk and all. Yang had to admit that she was very proud of Ruby. This was one hell of a way to say hello. It wasn’t long before they were face to face with Whitley and Blake looking at them. They loved their wives but boy were they a lot to handle sometimes. They doubted that the sisters realized the people around them anymore.”Well look who got all dressed up!?”

“Oh you know, gotta act my age every now and then.” Ruby snickered, “Is what I’d like to say, but I’m here to steal a little spotlight.”

“I knew it!” Yang blurted out.

Blake felt like she got whiplash from that confession. “Ruby!”

“What? I was reading a magazine and noticed how many pages the two of you got. Whitley told me it was because people lived seeing couples together and I wanted him on the cover of an issue, so…”

“For the record I told her I don’t care about being in the magazine.” Whitley added.

Ruby turned to him and poked his chest repeatedly. “Don’t try to act all cool now. Your face lit up like a Christmas tree when I said I wanted to go with you.” Ruby watched her husband’s face turn a little red. She’ll always love making him embarrassed. All these years and he still felt awkward about getting all mushy in public. That’s a Schnee for you. Cold on the outside, absolute softies on the inside.

“Is it bad that I like to spend time with my wife?” He said meekly, trying his best to act cool. He’s sure it didn’t come across as that, but it got Ruby to blush, so that’s a win in his book.

“I have to say, we’re a pretty good looking bunch right now.” Yang boasted, “who’s gonna top this?”

Whitley grabbed Yang by the shoulders and turned her forward. “Can everyone in this direction please make an opening and look behind you!?” He shouted.

Surprisingly, the crowd did it seamlessly. There was brief confusion before more chattering and flashing lights erupted. Yang slouched over in defeat, “And here I was thinking I’m the only woman who was gonna wear a suit?”

“Her entire clique is in suits!” Ruby shouted with peak excitement. She put her thumb and middle finger at the edge of her lips then gave one hell of a whistle. “Qrow, Winter, Sparrow; way to kill it!!”

The oldest Schnee sibling heard the chant from across the street. The plan was to sneak inside the building with minimum detection, but those plans were dashed. Winter immediately shot a look at her little brother. “Darn him,” she thought, “he knows I hate these things. What’s the point of drawing straws if he’s gonna sick the paparazzi on me? At least they’re far.” Winter refused to give people the luxury of seeing her in a dress unless it was absolutely necessary. The general of Atlas’s military had chosen to wear an icy blue women’s pant suit. The blazer was left open to show her white shirt she wore off that was cut fairly low for her. Qrow must’ve convinced her to show off a bit more. That’s not the only convincing he must’ve done either. Winter lives and would die with her hair in the same bun that has a right sided bang if she was given the option to. Through what had to be a miracle, her hair was set free from that style, finally free to be wavy and run down her back. Nick felt bad because he knew Summer wouldn’t have her hair down if she knew her aunt did the same thing. No one could compete with Winter’s hair. Her heels were pearly white and so were the actual pearls around her neck. Winter had her hands in her pocket and walked with an unbothered attitude. She really didn’t want to be here.

To her right was her adopted son, Sparrow. The twenty year old had come back to town just to be her plus one. Unlike his mother, Sparrow was having a blast! He also chose not to button up the blazer of his burgundy suit to show his black shirt, or wear his golden tie tightly around his neck; instead it was loosely hung near his collar bone. He didn’t even shave the brown rift of peach fuzz on his chin! Sparrow wasn’t completely crazy though. His flowing mane that he called hair was put in a man bun. These days the former navy sailor was looking more and more like a pirate, tanned brownish skin and all!

“You know you can at least try and look happy mom.”

“There’s no amount of money in the world that could do that.” Winter bluntly stated.

On her left was her husband Qrow. The veteran huntsman didn’t get his own invitation but was acting as Winter’s paid bodyguard. It wasn’t uncommon for people of status to higher one for security when attending these events. Winter was doing it to cheat the system, meaning Qrow still had to dress up. He went a step further than his son and flat out didn’t wear a tie or button up the top two buttons of his gray long sleeve shirt that was covered by his dusty red suit vest. No one could tell his socks matched the vest because of his black slacks and dress shoes. For once he was the only one who didn’t have to change their hair. It’s always pushed back, makes the grays blend nicely into the black. Winter forced him to shave unfortunately.

The red eyed man looked at his coco brown eyed kid and nodded mischievously. Both of them hooked an arm through one of Winter’s then proceeded to escort her across the street.

“What the!? What are you two-”

“Gotta treat social royalty with the utmost respect on a special day like this right?” Qrow said through Winter’s stuttering.

Sparrow nodded, “General or not, tonight you’re a gorgeous socialite.”

Winter’s face became a brazen red and a smile crept its way onto her face. “Very well, I have no problem being escorted by my two handsome men.” Yep, all Schnees are soft.

Sparrow took his time waving to onlookers and soaking in the sights. “Home hasn’t changed too much around here, that’s good. It’s also strange that this place isn’t completely flooded with people. I guess this dispersing plan is really working huh?”

Weiss nodded, “We let a little bit of our plan leak to news outlets so they knew to spread out. Besides the entrance Whitley and the others are going through, there’s an eastern entrance that should be packed because of my sister, as well as the actual main entrance. Your cousin Nick gets that one.”

“Where is the little guy anyways? He’s usually first to...well everything.”

“We purposely made him go last. This way he had more time to rest since he’s been extremely busy as of late. The crowd won’t be as rambunctious after seeing a majority of their favorite people too, so he has that benefit too.”

“How nice.”

“Anything for family.” Winter exhaled. She meant it, but boy was she counting the seconds. “I wonder how Weiss is? This is definitely more her speed.”

xxxx

“There is way too much happening right now!” Weiss cried out to Jaune.The middle child of the three Schnee siblings was the one who was most used to the fame and glamour because of her magnificent voice. However, it had been a little while since Weiss had been thrown into the thick of it like this. The joys of a slightly more humble and day to day life had firmly sunk its teeth into her, and these days she found cozy sweaters and early morning Sunday tv far more her speed than the hustle and bustle of being hands on with stuffy events. Being a huntress, mother of two twins, and wife was a full time job in itself. That didn’t mean she had forgotten how to wow a crowd, not by a long shot. Weiss wore a white cocktail dress that spread outward and stopped above her knees. A blue sash wrapped around her waist and tied into a bow in her left said, while her wedged calf high boots matched. Weiss had the splendid idea of copying her big sister by braiding her hair and wrapping it into a bun with a right bang. Weiss was never gonna outgrow imitating her big sis. Weiss did make sure to differentiate herself from both her and Summer though by going with ruby red earrings to add a pop of color. Weiss Schnee certainly looked the part, but she was having a bit of sensory overload. All the noise and lights were starting to hurt her head.

Jaune couldn’t do much about the noise, but the lights were a different story. The leader of team JNPR signaled for Ren and Nora, his other two teammates on the red carpet, to come over. The three of them spaced themselves around Weiss in an upside triangle formation as the four of them proceeded forward. It wasn’t often that Weiss liked being five foot even, but this was an exception. Having a tall husband and friends meant their bodies blocked some of the lights. It definitely helped her eyes.

“Thanks, you three.” She said, rubbing her eyes in hope that it would help them refocus. “Forgot how intense this could be when you’re at a main entrance.” Weiss grabbed ahold of Jaune’s arm lightly. The man opted for a simple black tux and yellow bow tie. He never was the fancy type. It was part of his appeal. All he did with his blonde hair was pull it back into a short ponytail. Weiss may have seen him as a prince but there was still plenty of pauper in his style. “Sorry if I wrinkle your suit hun.”

“I think you being able to see takes priority.” He chuckled. Jaune looked down to his left to see her blink a couple of times before looking at him and smiling. “Better?”

“Much better.”

“You know the crowd probably thinks we’re doing this because you’re such an ice queen.” Nora laughed, her hands waving happily to as many people possible from behind Weiss. Nora had chosen a very similar outfit to her daughter. The only differences being Nora’s ability to walk comfortably in heels and a cover up that was navy blue and only went down to her back. She only really wanted it to have sleeves. Nora has put so much work getting Valerie ready that her orange hair was only blushed down to give a more formal appearance. Not exactly the amount of effort people might want to see from a key representative in the state of affairs for the city of Mantle, but hey, her looks had nothing to do with her ideas to keep the city on its feet.

Ren went old school and decided on a traditional Tang suit. The jacket was a natural leafy green and buttoned all the way up while his cotton pants were black with a pink stripe down the side like the highlight in his jet black hair that he chose to put in a bun. He did this to show off the stitching on the back of the jacket that created a beautiful picture of a lotus flower. Clearly the most fashionable while still being a functional huntsman here. Ren wouldn’t be surprised if a kid asked him to break a board with a single chop before the night was over. He reached for his phone that started buzzing in his pocket and started spending his friends along.

“Woah, what’s with the sudden rush?” Jaune asked.

“If we drag our feet any longer then the kids are gonna beat us inside. Nick and Valerie are about to pull up to the front any minute now. Who knows if Summer and Veronica are wrapping up theirs?”

“Oh no, our babies!” Weiss and Nora said in unison.

“Double time Weiss!”

“Yeah!”

Jaune and Ren quickly grabbed their respective wives.

Ren let out a sigh, “I know you’re eager but shouldn’t we be keeping up appearances?”

Weiss and Nora looked at each other with an embarrassing smile before a confident nod, raising a hand and pointing ahead. “One point five speed!!!”

“That’s not what I-”

Jaune rested his hand on Ren. “We both know this is as good as it’s gonna get.”

“Yeah.” Ren smiled weakly, “Yeah….”

xxxx

It had been a decently long car ride, but it was finally time for Nick and Valerie to join the fray. Their limousine slowly rolled up to the very front entrance of the massive building where many speeches, awards, and dances shall take place. But before that was the long red runway to the front door surrounded by the press on both sides.

Nick stretched his arms out and clapped his hands together. “You ready for this!?”

Valerie took a deep breath to calm her mind. “No different from a sports audience, right?”

“That’s the spirit! Just remember, don’t look directly at the flashes. Cameras aren’t necessarily trying to get a photo of you with your attention on it, they just want a decent photo of you in general. Even if someone wants you to look their way, you can focus on what’s behind them or on their face.”

The fact that Nick had a secret to surviving walking to a door was both a little comforting and terrifying to Valerie. He was treating this like a battlefield! “I’ll follow your lead.” Valerie gave a convincing smile, but her stomach was having the same feeling a person gets standing in line for the tallest roller coaster.

“Guess that means I’ll head out first.” Nick grabbed the door handle. Normally someone outside would open it but he had to escort Valerie anyways, so playing the role of celebrity and guide seemed appropriate. He slowly pushed the door open just wide enough to slip one leg out. The squeals of what sounded like dozens of girls filled the air in that moment. He looked back at Veronica sheepishly, who wasn’t particularly happy at the noise.

“So am I about to hear the sound of excited pigs all night?”

“No, but you’ll be running a lot of interference for me. Good thing you’re good at defense.”

Valerie corrected him,“I’m great at defense, and keeping the ball for as long I need to.”

“Then I’m in good hands.”

Nick opened the door wider and stepped out into madness. The inside of the car lit up like strobe lights and the squeals only got louder now that the crowd saw their dear “prince” arrive. Valerie sat patiently until Nick stuck his hand back into the car to take hers. Valerie took it without delay and was pulled into his world, the world where eyes were always watching. It’s true that she’s been a part of it since forever, but this felt different. She wasn’t here because her parents this time, and her own merits hadn’t paved the way yet either. Nick had simply asked her to join. He’d offer a taste of what’s expected on the other half of society, and despite the confusing feelings she had about it as a whole, Valerie couldn’t be happier. After all this time, it was still the two of them acting like a dynamic duo. She had to admit that there was a comfort in that.

“There he is folks! The young heir to the Schnee Dust Company, up and coming ice skater, and a representative in the King of The Hill tournament; It’s Nicholas Schnee!” A random reporter stated. “And it looks like he’s brought a lady friend!”

Valerie overheard that comment and felt her face heat up a little bit. A piece of her wanted to say something about it but then she got a glimpse of multiple girls on the carpet and behind the velvet rope looking their way as they began walking. She’s never seen such intensity focused on her and Nick. Val noticed a couple girls taking a few steps and all her previous thoughts stopped mattering. Nick let out a tiny yelp as he felt himself be pulled closer to Valerie’s right side. She was basically hugging his arm and interlocked their hands.

“V...Val?” Nick said, his face getting a little red. She didn’t respond. Valerie was busy watching the other girls back off. “Valerie?” He said again.

“I don’t like the way they look at you. Like some sort of target or stepping stool.”

“Oh, it’s no big deal. Don’t feel like you have to do anything drastic.”

“I won’t. I’m just making it clear that you’re my date.” Valerie blushed, “Only look my way okay? I’ll do the same.”

“Ummm, then how will we see in front of us?”

“I wasn’t being lit- I’m saying you have my full attention!”

Nick’s eyes widened, “Oh… I give that to you anyways. You’re always on my mind.” They continued their walk to the door. Nick could feel Valerie’s heart race but he assumed it was because of what they were doing. It didn’t cross his mind that he did it to her.

“Yeah well, so are you.” Valerie thought to herself. She was so busy ensnared by his words that she didn’t notice the reporter had mentioned her by name, as well as listed a few of athletic accomplishments. Including her being a fellow representative for the tournament. That didn’t matter in the moment, just Nick. Her date on the red carpet.

Inside of the building was immaculate. It was almost set up like a conversation center, but for the rich and important. Multiple floors with multiple rooms dedicated to specific groups and awards, with the bottom floor being a ball area with plenty of food. The entryways and reddish brown walls were outlined with decorative lights that made the burgundy carpet match nicely with the intricate vine like golden design running along it. Valerie hadn’t even been inside for ten minutes and she could’ve sworn she already saw at least three fountains. Plenty of people were mingling and there were significantly less cameramen.

“There you two are!” Summer shouted from above.

Valerie looked to the second floor to the girl chewing on shrimp and standing next to Veronica who was not happy to see how close Valerie was to Nick. Valerie picked up on that and only leaned more into him, sticking her tongue out in the process. Being in a no fighting zone was the best.

“I wonder where our family is? Awards don’t start this early.” Valerie said.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if someone convinced them to take a giant group photo. We’ll probably end up in the same boat the minute we find them.”

“That would be correct.” A feminine voice said in the distance, catching Nick off guard. It got both him and Valerie to turn their head to see a blue haired girl with twin tails walking towards them. Her shoes and dress were the same deep blue shade and stopped at her calves. It didn’t fall straight but was more bell shaped when it got to her waist. Her golden eyes held no deceitful smile, rather they showed indifference. “My father convinced your family and a few others to take pictures for prosperity. At least that’s the reason he gave.”

Valerie looked at the girl from head to toe. She looked their age. Actually, Valerie had definitely seen her before. “We...go to the same school, right? It’s Elizabeth right?”

“Eliza Marigold.” Nick corrected. “Daughter of Henry Marigold, another socialite. That’s about it though.”

“Well we all can’t be as elite as a Schnee.Yes we’re pretty low on the totem pole compared to you, but we’re still pretty well known.”

“Oh I meant no disrespect. It’s just that the only other thing I know about your family is how much your father and my mother hate each other’s guts.” Nick said with a smile.

Valerie suddenly realized there was some obvious tension here. “So you two are well acquainted then?”

Nick shook his head, “We’ve actually never spoken before. My interaction with her has only been an apology letter.”

“A poor one at that. You purposely threw a party on the day of my birthday bash and rob me off all my guests, but all you can manage was three sentences. Not even an invitation to the amusement park that was supposed to be rented out for me.

Valerie remembered that party, it was amazing! Summer sang and everything as fireworks went off. She had no idea the venue was stolen. “You ruined her birthday.”

“Oh you me, someone talks trash about Summer or my family and I find myself getting a little petty.” He scratched the back of his head, he talked like if he was a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar. Eliza clicked her tongue in annoyance and directed her attention to Valerie.

“Who are you, girlfriend?”

“I am his date.” She said confidently. “Who happens to be a girl, as well as his closest friend. Yes…” Valerie wasn't proud of that delivery but that’s what came out. “My name-”

“I’m aware. Do you mind giving the two of us space? I have words with him.”

Valerie didn’t like the sound of that. “Whatever you can say in front of him can be said in front of me.” She put more bite in her tone.

Eliza raised her eyebrow. She wasn’t expecting that level of attitude. Then again she was talking to an athlete. “Intriguing, here I thought you were some mindless fangirl Nicholas sweet talked into doing his bidding. Guess I was wrong, or at least...half wrong.”

This no fight zone was about to be null and void. Valerie clenched her fist and scowled angrily at Eliza, prompting Nick to hold her arm to keep her from swinging. “Wanna run that by me again?”

Nick thought it best to go a step further and stand slightly in front of Valerie. “Now, now, let’s not do anything crazy. Can’t we be civil?”

“I’d be more inclined to keep my mouth in check if you stopped with the phony smile. You aren’t fooling me with a stunt like that.” Eliza put her hands on her hips and waited for a response.

Nick responded by folding his arms and swapping that peacekeeping smile with a more analytical one and a gaze that sent a chill through Eliza. He watched her indifference turn into shock, before a spark of excitement went through her eyes while she smirked. “What’s that look for?”

“You’ve peaked my interest, that’s all. I’ll keep this brief. I don’t like your family that much and I specifically do not like you. I also don’t intend on putting on an act around you. All I wanted to say is that I qualified for the tournament and look forward to knocking your family down a peg.”

“How bold of you.”

Valerie chimed in, “Not to mention completely ridiculous.” Her statement got both of them to look her way. “Even if by some miracle you were to beat Nick, you’d lose against me. You’re fighting for second place at best. If you can even make it that far.”

The three stared at each other after that, the declaration of war now set. It was more of two vs one, with Eliza being the odd one out. She opened her mouth to retort but promptly closed it. Nick watched that spark in her eyes die instantly and the girl grabbed the sides of her dress to curtsy.

“Excuse me.” Eliza said, walking past them towards a man that could only be her father by the color of his hair. Eliza took note that she walked past Summer and someone else, giving them a quick look before going about her business.

“Who was that?” Veronica asked after he met up with Nick.

“Someone as insufferable as you,” Valerie answered. Once more, Nick stepped in between the opposing sides.

“It was just a fellow tournament participant,and then some.”

“Oh great, more obstacles.” Summer sighed, I swear you make enemies as easy as you do coffee.”

“This one is different, she’s cool.” The three girls looked at him questionably as he shrugged. “What? It’s not everyday I meet someone so straightforward. It’s like talking to you three, she doesn’t hold back.”

“Or know oh to be polite either.” Valerie said bluntly. She gave Nick a look. “You better not lose to her. Kicking your butt is reserved for me and me alone!”

“Gee, how touching” he scoffed.

Nobody knew it yet, but that wouldn’t be the last time all five of them were so close to each other. In a years time, they would be seeing a lot more of each other; as well as share an experience crazier than any red carpet event.

[masked-buffoon]

Chapter 7: An oxidising dream of a world (Part 6)

Warnings: angst

Author notes: at this point, I’m not even going to apologise anymore...

The rain was heavily falling, covering Yokohama with a strange, ominous curtain of water. The sky was greyish, covered by heavy clouds which hid the sun away and deprived the world of its colours, and the streets were absolutely lifeless. On such days, I always felt under the weather, for I disliked rain. Rain could pour, and pour, endlessly, water could soak me until I felt wet til the bones, but never would it wash away my sins and the blood on my hands. The rain reminded me all too much about the atrocities I did daily, and I did not want to have such disturbing thoughts. Besides, having the sky crying rarely did announce anything good... I could foresee that something would end, very soon, by the end of the day perhaps. Something would break and shatter, never to be repaired again, and I was afraid. If time could stop just a moment to delay this event... If time could slow down enough so I would never see the sunset...

"Ogawa...?"

I turned around toward my superior. He had finally woken up, past eight in the morning, and he had wanted to make me believe he was not tired...

"Yes, Dazai? What do you need?" I walked toward the couch.

"Did I sleep a lot...?" He seemed concerned.

"I hope enough to feel better than yesterday." I answered "You slept soundly."

"Which is odd..." He commented "But oh, well, I'm not going to complain..."

"You'd rather not." I shrugged, turning my attention toward the ringing phone on the desk "I'm going to pick it up."

The moment I put the device onto my ear, I regretted it. I replied to the voice, curtly, shakily, avoiding Dazai's look at all cost, and finally hung up with very tense movements.

"What's going on...?" He frowned.

I had to fight to stand on my two legs and used the wooden furniture to support my weight, unable to gather any kind of strength to my muscles anymore. But he was waiting. He wanted words from me. He needed to know, and I could not tell.

"The Western restaurant..." I started, immediately noticing the slight widening of his eye "It was... It was attacked..."

Without a word, without asking for details, he raised from the couch and hurried out of the office, messily throwing his coat onto his shoulders. If I did not know better, I would have stayed there, dumbfounded, and would have waited for him to come back. However, with all that had been said the previous night, I could not let him face troubles alone and followed him, taking an umbrella on the way out.

The downpour did not stop when we arrived; worse, it increased and the light umbrella could barely resist the heavy drops of water crashing against it. The restaurant was surrounded by people, journalists and the police. The source of the ruckus was a bus, or rather, the remnants of a bus. The vehicle had completely burnt, due to an explosion, but other than the scent of gas, what my nose smelled did not please me. Burnt human flesh. My being had gotten used to the sight and the scent of human corpses, yet this day, I could barely hold my disgust back. I did remember Oda was raising orphans he had taken in after the Dragon's Head Rush... I wished, strongly, that I was mistaking, but deep inside, I knew I was not. The ones to have died in the explosion were children. Innocent children who had been used for the sake of attracting Oda into the trap. And it had worked. Coming out of the restaurant, Dazai's friend wore a stoic face, and his blue eyes, normally devoid of any violence, were darkened by murderous intentions. He was not the one I had known before, not the same I had last seen. It was not long before my superior rushed toward him.

"Odasaku...! Odasaku, you can't go, it won't —"

"Bring back the kids?" He almost huffed, shoving his hands into his pockets "No it won't. But I'll go still."

"No...! Odasaku... Even if you feel down, you can still live on, and believe something good will happen...!" He tried to sound reassuring "You have to believe..."

I lowered my head. He acted out of the world, but he was the one who understood the best how our minds worked. He was the one who analysed us with the most accuracy. He understood everything, but could not make use of it... He had told me he felt lonely; just how lonely was he actually?

"... Do you know why I joined the Mafia...?"

Oda and I exchanged a glance. It was the first time he ever talked about his own reasons...

"I wanted to try... I thought perhaps in this violent world I could see human qualities and... Find a reason to live..."

A reason to live... His voice sounded so broken when he said those few words, I felt my throat tighten. A reason to live... What exactly was my own reason to live...? Why was I born into this world, with such a fate? What role was I supposed to play on this Earth...? I kept silent.

"My dream was to be a writer..." Oda sighed "A person who gave life through words... But I no longer have the qualifications... I only have one wish now."

"No..."

I watched, expressionless, as Dazai called after his friend, desperately, but the man he called would not glance back at him, and walked away, toward what would be his death. I realised. He would be another loss. My superior would lose something else he held dear in his heart. He would be broken. Dazai would be the one broken by the end of the day. So, I did a foolish thing; I went and tried to defy his destiny.

I dropped the umbrella on the ground, and, without a word, without caring about the rain, I ran after the shadow of the one who used to be nicknamed "Odasaku", leaving the executive behind. The puddles of water did not stop me as I jumped above them, nor did I care about the person running toward the crime scene, hands holding onto detective materials. No, my mind was only focused on the person in front of me, and I grabbed the back of his coat, stopping his track.

"Oda..." I panted "You can't go..."

"Not you too, Ogawa..." He did not give me a single look.

"That's not for myself...!" I argued "So listen to me... If you go and die, because I know you will die, he will shatter! He will be hurt... Do you know how pained he was after your meeting with Sakaguchi-san, yesterday...?! You cannot go... You cannot leave him..."

"He must learn, too..." He turned around to remove my hands from him "Are you truly acting selflessly?"

"Eh...?" I did not understand.

Only then did I notice that my own tears were mixing with the rain on my cheeks.

"If I die, it is you who will lose him." He stated "You don't want him to suffer, only because your own happiness gravitates around him. That's pretty selfish, making him your reason to be."

"I..." I wanted to protest, but could not deny what he was saying "It is true... But even so, do I not have the right to wish for his smile...? Even if I want him to be happy for my sake, would it not contribute to his own good as well...?"

"You have the right to... But I can't go back anymore now. So, there is a single thing you can do, if you truly care about him." He looked at me, holding my shoulders.

"... What is it...?"

"Stay by his side. Help him going on."

"That's not..." I chuckled bitterly "I did promise him so... But he does not need me as much as he needs you... I am not important... I am not enough... I only make him suffer... You know... Perhaps I should go in your stead..."

His hands gripped my shoulders tighter, making me wince in pain.

"You promised him... You can't go back on your words. Dazai does need you, although it is different from how he needs me. If he loses you because you wanted to save me, I do not believe that I can console him, because you made a promise. And for once, he sees a person as someone he may not lose, for you tied yourself to him on your own whim. It's too late, now..." He spoke lowly "Please stay by his side... I entrust him to you."

I could not have done a thing. Why could I not be the least useful to Dazai..? Why could I not do anything right...? Going and breaking my superior... How could he do that to his friend...? I was well-aware that never would I be able to comfort his pain... It had been too hard the previous night, to stand his sufferings without myself shattering, how would I stand having him act like an empty soul...?

"What the heck..." I cursed, trying to remove without success the wet hair sticking to my face "We both know... Who means the most to him..."

Without much energy, I made my way back toward the restaurant. I was cold, I was soaked, and the rain would not stop pouring onto me, masking my tears from the sight of others. I was tired, too. I only wanted to run away, from there, from the Port Mafia, from Dazai, but mostly, from myself. I wanted to dodge any responsibility and live the carefree life of a child... Why had I never had a childhood? Why could I not be innocent, almost naive, and ignore my duties as a human being? It was so stupid. Being alive, for someone like me, was such a waste...

Bumping into someone stopped my feet from moving. The thin umbrella sheltered my head, preventing me from getting even wetter, and, surprisingly, I was pulled toward the person's chest.

"Don't blame yourself..."

Now that the rain could not fall on me anymore, there was no way to disguise my tears as droplets, and they rolled, heavily, onto the cold skin of my face.

"I tried..." I sobbed "He was so far away... I couldn't... I'm sorry..."

"Don't blame yourself..." He repeated, pulling me closer in what seemed the attempt to a hug "Please, don't blame yourself..."

"How can I not...?" I buried my face in his coat "He is gone... He went away, and I could not... Stop him... For your sake..."

"I know... That's why, don't blame yourself..." Dazai made me look up at him "He chose this path willingly... The only thing we can do is assist him... Let's go back to the headquarters to prepare our men... We can still make it."

He clang onto a hope he knew was not meant to exist; a vain, meaningless light, yet he clang onto it so desperately. I had never seen him being so human...

"... Understood..."

I was utterly anxious as I waited for Dazai, in front of the headquarters. It had been a moment he had gone in to see the Boss. It was too long to my liking, and I feared Mori-san was trying to make him stay. What was going on...? If only I was more intelligent, perhaps would I understand the truth behind this whole case of ghosts Mimic was... I had sent around twenty men toward the abandoned mansion in the forest, where the remnants of the organisation were hiding, but I doubted it would help Oda a lot. I prayed for him to stay alive until we could go to him, but there was a voice which kept screaming I was comforting myself in delusions. Oda had chosen to die, and whether he won or lost against Gide, the leader of Mimic, he would die in the end.

It was not raining anymore, and, instead, the sun shone warmly above the busy Yokohama, as though accompanying a great man in his last moments. He did not deserve to die this way. He did not deserve to see his dream scattered on the ground. He did not deserve to see the kids he cared about being taken away from him. Yet, it had happened. Why was the world so unfair? Toward rotten criminals and filthy businessmen, it was so peaceful, whereas toward war orphans and starving homeless people, it was worse than Hell. Why so?

"Ogawa-kun! Let's go now!" Dazai called me suddenly.

"Yes...!" I walked after him as he led the way "What happened...?"

"The Boss... He has planned everything." He quickly told me "All of this for a damn certificate..."

"The 'Ability Business Permit'...?!" My eyes widened "Would that not make the Port Mafia's doings legal...?!"

"Exactly. Logically speaking, it was the right thing to do, but —"

"Your friend's life is on the line." I cut him, speeding up "There is no logic in that... You just want to save him, and this is normal. Am I right?"

"... Very right..." He conceded "I don't want him to die..."

[isnt-it-pretty]

Super uneditted WIP about Ishvalan Ed (and Al) Elric, because I need more of this au in my life.

TW for war stuff and mild wound description. 

He waits until just before the train departs. Pinako will pick them up from the train station at Resembool. Mr and Mrs Rockbell cannot accompany them on the trip. No more trains will be running to or from Ishval, and there are people who desperately need their aid.

Al is asleep across from him, curled on a seat with an old blanket laid over his shoulders. It’s one of the few belongings they were allowed to take. One of the few remnants of their home.

The train is about to move, so Ed climbs from the window, whispering an apology to his sleeping brother.

He’s nine years old, so much bigger than Al. He’s an alchemist, even if the word sounds dirty in the mouth of their priests. He can fight.

The train leaves, but Ed stays. He will fight with the others, throw rocks if he has to. Ishvala will protect them, and if He doesn’t, then Ed will protect them all in His place..

His mother bawls when she sees him. Anger and hopelessness coalescing into one as he stands in the doorway of his childhood home. She screams, shaking his shoulders as she does. Curses Amestris and alchemy, curses his father and even Ishvala. 

Two weeks later, the state alchemists arrive. 

...

This place is hell, and Ed wonders what they did to have Ishvala forsake them to this fate.

Bullets ring out all hours of the day, lodging themselves in the walls of the buildings. He wonders who’s shot them, the Ishvalans, or the Amestrians. 

It's been a month, and the front is within the city now. Amestris has taken portions for their holy land, and is trying to strike to the very heart of it.. 

The adults speak of other countries helping to fund this war, others speak of what will come after. This land is soaked in blood now, the blood of His chosen. No side will back down, and they cannot beat all of Amestris. 

Ed has been kept busy. He’s transmuting medicine for the Rockbells when he can, helping the wounded. He’s only nine years old, but they need all the aid they can get, even that of a child.

He learns to comfort dying men, learns to stitch wounds and smile when every part of him feels like dying. He holds the hand of a crying woman, who’s child will never come home, and thanks Ishvala that Al isn’t here to see this. He does not regret staying, not when he is so obviously needed, but his little brother does not need to know the sound of anguished screaming which accompanies each day here. He does not need to know the smell of burnt flesh, and festering wounds.

...

The Rockbells die, and Ed isn’t there to see it.

Ishval is falling around them, the state alchemists pushing forward even through the night. The sky has been lit by bright orange fire the last few days, and Ed can hear the screams of thousands as they burn. He isn’t sure whether or not they’re real.

His mother is pulling him along, trying to avoid open areas where they know The Hawk’s Eyes lay in wait. Somewhere far away, there’s an explosion, and Ed can’t help but wonder if it is the work of the Crimson Alchemist.

He hates himself. Hates himself for knowing the names of those that are slaughtering his kin. Hates that bullets and guns and alchemy are destroying everything that he has held dear. 

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Ed is afraid that this is all his fault. Perhaps it was his practicing of alchemy that has brought this upon them. Perhaps this is his punishment for forbidden arts. Would Ishvala be cruel enough to damn them all for Ed’s own transgressions? He doesn’t know, and he’s too afraid to ask.

His mother is holding him close, a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet as a group of soldiers march by. They’re laughing at a state alchemist who had to be sent home, the Strong Arm Alchemist, how he had a breakdown over the body of a worthless Ishvalan child. The soldiers pass, and he and his mother continue on through the wreckage of their city.

For once, Ed regrets not going with his brother. Maybe if he wasn’t here, Ishvala would have let his people live. Maybe his mother wouldn’t put herself at risk to keep him safe. Maybe he wouldn’t be questioning whether or not he will ever see Al again.

They arrive at the Rockbell’s clinic, only to find it coated in blood. Few survivors remain, but they join Ed and his mother as they try desperately to move through the falling city.

Night falls, but they don’t stop. It’s slow going, trying to avoid Amestrian soldiers, but they do what they can. Even as they hear the sound of death all around them.

Their luck can’t last forever.

Bullets ring out as those in their party begin to fall dead, nobody can see where they’re coming from in the billowing smoke from the raging infernos. 

Every shot sounds like a slice through his heart as Ed’s mother pulls him through the chaos. Desperate to reach cover.

They don’t make it.

She falls in front of him, ignoring his cry of:

“Mother!”

She doesn’t move, doesn't stand up and smile or pull him close.

Suddenly, the building behind them explodes, burning shrapnel raining down upon them.

They are going to die. They are going to die. Ishvala has abandoned them, condemned them to hell. 

Somebody grabs him, and it's only then that Ed realizes the burn across his shoulder. He shakes the person off.

Even through the panic and pain, Ed focuses. Flames are caused by a combustion reaction. When the ignition point is reached, flames will appear. Those flames are primarily made up of carbon dioxide, water vapor, oxygen and nitrogen. If he can just...

Maybe Ishvala is punishing him for using alchemy, but if he can get them out, then it will be okay. It will all be okay. 

There's just enough blood in his body to draw a transmutation circle. 

Nowhere in any books was transmuting fire like this mentioned, but scientific discoveries often happen in times of crisis.

He glances toward his mother’s unconscious form. Unconscious because she has to just be unconscious, please Ishvala I know what I did wrong but please- and touches the circle just as the fire reaches it.

There’s a blast of heat, he thinks he screams again, but everything has turned black.

[allyvampirelass29]

Murder at Cripple Creek

A NOS4A2 Review By: Allyssa J. Watkins

A boomtown swimming with ghosts Dead eyes can't hide Their hedonist living Drinking, debauchery and sinning Scarlet ladies having babies But a whorehouse is not a home Trading flesh for coin Tempting patrons, at the sacrifice of your boy Little Charlie grew up in the hellish dark The sins of the mother Scarring the son's heart Murder brewing in this simmering fleshpot Oh Hateful Harlot, Mother Manx Is is to your neglect and bitter thanks Your baby boy, molested, and you can't protect Your little dreamer from the wicked world you wrought for him Blood on a beautiful boy's hands But the only thing murdered here Is his innocence. Sending his rapist and that lustful bitch Back to hell Charlie, Charlie you're not a villain You had to save yourself.......

Is...... anyone alive out there? It's been days, and I'm still sobbing, my heart desolated by the roiling emotional turmoil, my ignited rage murderous. I don't know about you guys, but...... I'm an absolute wreck. WHY are you DOING this to me, NOS4A2!?!? After the brilliant turn of last week, the sleek sophistication, and glamourous entrapment, "Cripple Creek," was a backhand strike, a blatant violation that I never saw coming, and I spent the entire episode, quivering, sobbing, pleading desperately behind my hands plastered over my face, watching between my fingers, helpless to stop the punishing abuse My Charlie suffers in two different timelines, his bruises of an abused childhood mingling with the fresh wounds of now, as he is tortured, beaten and berated by Bing Partridge!!!

I hated this episode. I HATED it. There, I said it. But I think you're supposed to, I think that was the sole purpose of this traumatizing ordeal. However, as far as Bing (GO TO HELL YOU FILTHY BASTARD) is concerned, the writer's motivation seems drastically convoluted. If this was supposed to be Bing's Big Epiphany, his "redemption," (Ughhh seriously?) This episode fails miserably in accomplishing that. And if this episode was meant to do, what I had predicted back in Season One, cement him as the actual villain of NOS4A2, making him the more immoral evil, be his rise in notoriety, his coming of age as it were, into the monster he was always going to be, giving Charlie and Vic someone to unite their hatred against, it fails to do that too. The biggest misstep of the series, after so elegant a triumph, I'm going to drown my sorrows in ice cream, and try to forget that any of it ever happened. Close your eyes, and think of Christmasland........

I audibly groaned when we opened onto Bing at the Lake House. After so much needless repetition in an otherwise FLAWLESS episode, I REALLY did not want to relive Bing's point of view of the siege, unless it was him getting shot by white knight Chris McQueen over, and over, and over........ Thankfully, the rewind didn't last too long, but I was having NONE of his, "Are you there, God, it's me, Bing Partridge," moment!!! On his knees in the graveyard, (Why...... why are we in a graveyard?) Bing appeals to the heavens, proclaiming his own innocence, asking God to show him what he should do next. I snickered coldly, the whole thing melodramatic, and absurd, as he cries, "I've been so good!!!" Secretly, I was fantasizing about Buffy SLAYING his creepster ass in the graveyard, beating him bloody, before staking him in the heart with a witty saying like, "It's been a gas, Bing, but I get the last laugh!!!" Alas, alack, no such luck. His appeal to the heavens was answered not in divine intervention, but with bird droppings splattering in his mouth, which of course, translated in Bing-A-Ling Logic to, "Kill the FIRST person that tries to help you, bury him in the freshly dug grave, and take his keys!!!" It's PRAYING Bing, you dolt, not preying!!!

While the side quest FINALLY explains how Bing was able to catch up to Charlie and Wayne, after previously believed to be on foot, not to mention shot, which would have been IMPOSSIBLE, supernatural car not withstanding, it's altogether unnecessary. It was the less than scenic route to get to last week's blood-curdling cliff hanger, and I really think we could have done without all the maudlin hullaballoo, and picked right up from there. Also, it creeped me out BIG TIME hearing Bing Partridge say, "Hidey holes," because that's what I called them last week, when Charlie was adorably telling Wayne about his hiding places. "Look at you with your hidey holes, Babe!!!" Needless to say, Bing has ruined that phrase for me FOREVER!!!

"Charlie, Charlie, telling lies, soon he will be crying cries......" A chilling foreboding that was like ice in my veins........ I was definitely crying cries...... I literally WEPT with this horrid little rhyme, and even still I was so naïve, unprepared, for the gut-churning horror that waited in the shadows of a broken little boy's murdered childhood, and the degradation of the beautiful soul that survived it. It's one of the most grueling, and disturbing things, I've ever watched, and like my Darling Boy, strapped to the chair, enduring forced interrogation by gassing, brutal beatings by Bing's homicidal, ham-fisted punches, and some....... deeply unsettling sexual innuendo, I felt like I was the one getting tortured.........

I did utterly enjoy Charlie's feigned relief, as he uses that silver tongue, in valiant effort, to slip his way out of this sickening predicament. "Bing, My Dear Fellow, thank the stars! I thought you had been done in by those wretched McQueens!!" Charlie gasps, thankfully, knowing full well he'd left Bing behind to die, and for good reason. Any other time, this would have worked, Charlie would have used his coaxing charm, and Bing's oafish gullibility, twisted them into a breathtaking manipulation, weaving the lie that he had no choice but to leave him behind, and Bing would have eaten it out of the palm of his hand, because he wants that badly for it to be true. But Bing watched it happen, his face falling, as Charlie sped off without him, and he's DONE playing. Charlie's pleas fall on deaf ears, as Bing drugs him for answers, revealing the fatalities of every single one of Charlie's former accomplices, and with the finality of one apocalyptic truth....... Bing descends into a frenzied, foaming madness.

"Cripple Creek," is the double edged sword that none of us were meant to survive. Switching between the stabbing scenes of Charlie's withering assault, his lifeline to The Wraith, cruelly severed, and the slicing violation of his childhood self, his innocence massacred before our very eyes, our bleeding hearts never stood a chance. I always knew that Charlie's childhood was going to be horrid, downright Dickensian, devoid of magic and light, unloved by his drunk, whore mother, but I had no idea the HELL this beautiful boy endured at so tender an age, forever scarred, betrayed by the one person he trusted, respected, desperately in need of a father figure, only to be exploited in the most heinous way. It's a MIRACLE My Precious Love can even function as an adult, much less still manage to find wonder and beauty in the world, clinging, clawing to hold onto his ember, his remnant of pure light that persevered in a life of darkness.

The inexplicable joy at seeing a young Charlie Manx, aged 11 or 12, tapdancing on stage, along with the giddy marvel that this young actor looks just like our leading man in miniature, is short-lived, as a stranger takes an uncomfortable interest in him....... I don't know how, maybe it was the intent way he watched him dance, or the way he touched his shoulder a little too long, but I knew........ I KNEW this man was going to sexually abuse Charles, I felt it gnawing in my stomach, instantly unnerved, and I hoped with all my heart, my first instinct was wrong....... I'm devastated to say........ it was not.

Not only does this manipulative pedophile Son of a BITCH molest my baby, he first uses him to persuade other boys to flock to his house, knowing full well how much the young ones look up to Charlie, as their leader. He wins Charlie's favour and trust by befriending him, and giving our little darling the one thing he wants more than anything else. Escape. Escape from the vulgar, gratuitously sexual environment, that no young boy should have to endure, a chance to make money, have an honest, respectable living. A chance to have a father figure, a man to look up to, learn from, and take him under his wing. The shop owner offers all of that, with a crooked smile, the charade falling dangerously away, as he knocks back a shot glass, eying our boy, and then says in the cruelest, most chilling voice. "You've earned yourself some fun........"

Thankfully, NOS4A2 was not overly graphic in this lewd portrayal, but the innuendo was enough to make me ugly cry, and seethe, as this sweet child is violated by someone he admires so much, realizing in horror, that he led all of his friends to be mishandled in this same disgusting manner, like lambs to the slaughter. But our brave little Manx was NOT going to let this sin go unpunished, and I clapped, cheering him on, as he uses his sled, now tainted by its means of acquisition, to kill the shopkeeper, dark fire flashing in his eyes, blood splattering on the shot glass, and I've never been so happy, or nervously relieved to see someone die.

His mother comes to him, and instead of crying, and taking her boy in her arms, stroking his dark curls, soothing his fear, and assuaging his guilt, she just scoffs at his accusation, the picture of apathy, and places the blame back on him. "You knew too, Charlie!!!" You WHORE-ABLE Mother!!! Your son was just sexually ASSAULTED, and YOU DARE make it his own fault, like he'd turned a blind eye, and therefore deserved to get raped!?!? Charlie might not have killed her, if she'd actually had a maternal bone in her body, if she'd done SOMETHING, shown any sign of regret or compassion, but she doesn't, and I feel nothing but proud as he finishes her off too. Her death was surprising, given the admonishing way Charlie talks about his mother, creating the impression that she'd been a bane on his existence his entire life, and yes, as a writer, I wanted to see more of a direct conflict between them to make that defining moment that much more satisfying, but as a viewer, I was just grateful she was dead, and Charlie was free. The only murder perpetrated, the only death I mourned at Cripple Creek, was that of Charlie's innocence, his childhood slaughtered.

Meanwhile, Bing continues to torture Charlie in the present day, my chest shuddering with every thrown punch, and I have to bite my lip to keep from screaming. What was the deafening truth spoken that sends Bing Partridge into a flailing rage, you ask?

"Christmasland is for children. We are special...... That's why we can't go......."

Charlie was never going to take Bing to Christmasland. All that this poor dope had lived for, dreamed of, for eight years, amidst his conning his way into dentists' offices, and offing mothers, and it was always a lie. I had suspected it the entire time, especially after the mention of a, "special feast," but what SHOCKED me the most, was the unimaginable heartbreak of Charlie's own deepest secret coming to light, and as Bing draws it forth, it's like drawing blood. In spite of being the architect of his lifelong dream, and greatest solace from a life full of abject misery, Charlie doesn't think he deserves Christmasland, because he sees himself as ruined........

I broke down sobbing, that pain, that anguish, that he's so long carried with him, ripping through me, and I'm tearing up even as I write this, remembering....... Charlie denying himself his own dream, seeing himself as a ruined article that might profane its pure vision, is a tragedy that I can't come back from. It's a sorrowful, aching confession, and yet somehow it explains so much, and in this, his greatest pain, his darkest secret, I felt intimately closer to him. At last........ we see why Charlie never stays long in his Christmas kingdom, why he's so focused on the next child, and the next, sacrificing time with his own daughter, because they deserve Christmasland, and he doesn't. Always the courier, never the partaker. Christmasland is for children, and Charlie Manx never got the chance to be one.

The searing pains of his past still guide so much of who he is today, placing a strict emphasis on propriety in every aspect of his person, in manner, speech, and dress, because he was robbed of his dignity as a child. I also, FINALLY, after two seasons, understand why he turns the children into vampires, a contradiction to his love of them, that has remained frustratingly elusive to my grasp. Charlie's childhood was taken from him, brought to a vulnerable, violent end, and by turning the Lost Children, theirs becomes eternal. They never have to grow up, and lose that purity, that innocence. I also realized, that by giving them their bite back, they are able to defend themselves, meaning no one can ever hurt them again.......

There was so much awful going on, so much inflicted misery, and disorienting chaos, that I was sure I'd heard wrong when Bing decides on an even more dehumanizing method of torture. Did Bing just...... call Charlie a BITCH!? I shook my head, but there it was again, and at this point I'd HAD it. Somebody give me a GUN, I will WASTE this SICK BASTARD myself!!! The skeevy sexual threat against Charlie felt like overkill to me, utterly ridiculous, a cheap shot at adding dramatic effect, especially in the face of his childhood shame. Bing has exhibited absolutely no inclination of...... swinging that way, as it were, before, and yeah they kind of threw in last minute that he'd done this to Mike's father, offscreen, but I don't know WHY he would do that, especially given his particular affinity for Mike. Charlie, himself, pointed out that there was no indication in the Graveyard of What Might Be that Mike needed saving, or that his father deserved punishing. It's awkward, and disturbing, and there seemed to me no method in this madness.

"If I'm a monster....... who deserves to die....... You deserve so much worse." BAM. Hell yeah, Babe!!! Thank GOD, Charlie's quick enough to convince Bing that he too is a monster, and we are spared any further asinine innuendo. Bing, after these series of unfortunate events, beating, berating, and threatening Charlie with rape, suddenly, deus ex machina-esque has a change of heart, and an epiphany that comes a LOT TOO LATE!!! We're both monsters, we BOTH deserve to die....... What we're doing is WRONG. Was I happy when Bing urged Wayne to go, and tell a police officer that his mom is Vic McQueen? Yes. Do I believe he did it out of the goodness of his heart, and has finally seen the light? Freaking HELL NO!!! Bing, after losing Christmasland, has nothing left to live for, and this is his way of giving up. If I can't go to Christmasland, Wayne can't go...... and he decides a bizarre murder/suicide in The Wraith is his final act of redemption.

Before they even showed the car crusher, I was already sobbing profusely, losing my freaking mind, because I had figured out exactly where Bing had taken Charlie.

"There's going to be two less monsters in the world........"

Meaning to crush them both, and kill the Wraith irrevocably, Bing puts on his mask, and presses the button. At first Wayne laughs, and thinks it's a game, his inner vampire child coming out, but when it hits him that Charlie's in actual danger, he realizes he has a choice to make....... Save Charlie Manx, or let him die, and go home safe to his Mom and Lou.

"No, My Boy, this isn't a game, it's time to play, Save Father Christmas!!!"

Charlie calls out frantically, coaxingly to his young charge, and I loved that so much, my heart overwhelmed with emotion. Yes, Wayne, PRETTY PLEASE save Father Christmas!!! A lot of people despised him for what happened next, screaming at Wayne for his choice, even calling him a stupid kid, but I, myself, felt even more love in my heart for that already dearly cherished little lad, as he smiles, and slams down on the button, halting the crusher, and saving Charlie from imminent death.

It's a profound moment, the abductee choosing to save his kidnapper's life, and many cried out strongly against it, but you have to understand....... Charlie Manx has become so much more to Wayne than the scary face in his mother's paintings. Here is a man that has shown genuine interest in his life, his hopes, his dreams, who has treated him gently, fussed over him, concerned, and who has come to love him like a father. Couple that with The Wraith's effects on Wayne, slowly tying the two of them together, it makes perfect sense to me, how this unexpected bond has formed. Yes, had Vic been there, herself, he would have chosen her over Charlie in a second, but when faced with the reality of letting Charlie die, our tender-hearted Bats just couldn't do it.

"Do think of me at Christmastime, won't you?"

CHARLIE. LIKE. A. BOSS!!!! The single greatest moment, and brightest scene in an hour of plunging darkness, is definitely Charlie, snapping back into his delectably dark, unrivaled perfection (although, I must say I still found him incredibly dashing in his distinguished grays) charging Bing Partridge, murder striking in his wild, smouldering eyes, stabbing him, with a reveling whisper, twisting the knife, with this most PERFECT line, that gave me wonderous, reverberating chills!!! I also LOVED how Charlie glowers in his lumpy face and says, "You were never special." DAMN that's HOT!!! My only grievance with an otherwise ENTHRALLING moment, was that inexplicably, yet again, CHARLIE DIDN'T KILL BING!!! Charlie has KILLED for so much less, and while he did offer a vague explanation about prison being so much worse for Bing than hell, it felt like hell frozen over that Charlie would ever let Bing live. I know this is the writers wanting to keep Bing around to creep another day, but MY GOD, hang that Partridge from a pear tree, and HAVE DONE already!!!!!

This was an especially dark episode, but there were flashes of some really beautiful, albeit fleeting moments, first with Wayne and Craig, and then with Millie and Cassie, though the reoccurring theme, the common thread, did seem to be Innocence Lost. I was startled with the The Wraith's sneaky trick of causing a child to forget their parents the longer they are in the car, and BLESS YOU, Craig for helping your son remember his mother, and fight the transformation!!! He tells Wayne that Vic's favourite movie was Jaws, and Wayne tells him that her favourite holiday is the 4th of July. (Which is really cool, because it's my favourite too!!!) This slows the Wraith's effects on Wayne, and becomes a very special moment between father and son, as they fight to keep Vic's memory alive.

"How do you know my mom?"

"She was my best friend."

More overwhelmed sobs, because apparently I haven't cried enough this episode!!! Craig decides not to tell Wayne that he's his father, but our little Bats is ingeniously clever, and I think he's going to figure it out before long!!! Another mini heart attack comes with a second lost tooth. The suspense of Wayne's slow turning, mirroring the tender emotion in this scene was fantastic.

Millie and her mother have a similar moment, and I thought that was BRILLIANT of her to introduce Vampire Millie to her former human self. The two play with dolls, and human Millie talks about how she can't wait to go on a date, and have adventures when she grows up! It's such an endearing scene, and also incredibly sad, as the pale, gaunt shell of Vampire Millie envies her bright, and bubbly human counterpart, seeing the hope and innocence that she's so long been bereft of. "She's me...... Who I'm supposed to be." Cassie explains that her father's sad fantasy is depriving Millie of the gift of growing up, and explains that there's nothing Charlie Manx fears more than a woman with her own mind, and that's the LAST thing he wants his beloved daughter to become. A woman that would eventually leave him. More tears. Poor Millie. Poor Charlie!! Can I just give everybody a hug!?

"Cripple Creek," lingers like BAD Dream, and all I want to do right now, is curl up with Charlie Manx, hold him in my arms, stroke his cheek, soothe him with the tenderest hands, and softest words, tell him he's beautiful, and that he deserves Christmasland, and the world, that he's not ruined, but PURE!!! This was my least favourite episode in the entire series, and just like, "The Gas Mask Man," will be skipped indefinitely in the re-watch, but like I said, it endeared Charlie even more to my heart, and I feel fiercely protective over him, over that goodness that still glows in his dark eyes, despite lifetimes of feeling unloved, and in ever-present pain. All I ever wanted in Season One, was a glimpse into the past that crafted my mysterious and refined vampire chauffeur, and this entire experience, My Darlings, is an exercise in, "Be Careful What You Wish For..........."

[mor3tti]

Boy Wonder & The Young Goddess -Part Four-

Dick Grayson (titans) x Reader

(Dick Grayson GIF not mine)

Uhhhhh, surprise? I’m back, I think.

I owe each and every single one of you an explanation for my absence. When I finished and posted the third chapter I thought I was going to be able to keep caught up with the oncoming chapters but the problem was that they weren’t written yet. I kept coming back to try and write the next chapter and with each try I fell out of the motivation to write it. After how many months and FINALLY finishing my exams I am now back and ready to go. Love you all, I missed Dick Grayson.

This will be a series! So stay tuned for more chapters to come!

The plot: When Y/N gets a sign from the gods to go after a troubled girl, she stumbles upon and reconnects with a dear friend from her past.

Warnings: the use of the word ‘fuck”

Taglist: @nightshade7117 @yetitty @affection-rabbit @drabby-abby @caitsymichelle13 @caswinchester2000 @peterunderoos96 @sataninsatin @chewie-redbird @bad-bitch-khaleesi @peqchynero @bookish-and-shy @kokofri14 @bluexangels @multifandoms916 @blue-and-yellow-jjk-pjm

Some usernames didn’t work so I’m sorry! You might have changed your username without me realising!

Masterlist for Boy Wonder & The Young Goddess

Even as an Amazon you still somehow got migraines, and yeah if you’re wanting to know they’re still a mega pain in the ass. The tea session with Gar had sparked some suppressed emotions which is probably a positive thing but damn did they mess with your head, literally. The best option was to swallow yourself in the mattress that was very much calling your name. Your knees were close to your chest as you tried to wait out the pain. Surprisingly in an apartment full of vigilantes there were no painkillers, then again Dick is more of the ‘brooding and ignoring the pain’ type of guy. 

Another bolt of pain shot through your temple as your fist grabbed the sheet which followed with the rest of your body clenching in pain. A quiet “fuck” left your lips as you smacked the bed trying to get the frustration out without blasting out the windows with an energy tantrum. As the storm moved from where Dick was in town it settled over you and surrounded the tower with a hollow shower of rain, thankfully no lightning and thunder. The calming rhythm of the droplets gave you something to focus in on instead of the pressure that was clouding your mind.

You stretched your hand out from under the pillow and held it above where you and Dick once laid this morning, slowly lowering it onto the still crumpled bedding. It was an odd feeling. The bed felt uneven without him even though your whole life had been balanced this entire time. You couldn't start wanting him now, especially after the mini lecture you had given him this morning about Kory and putting her first. You sharply retracted your hand and slid it back to the pillow before anyone noticed, even if the apartment was just about empty. 

As you were settling in bed Gar was settling into the corner of the couch watching the rain fall. He thought that he might as well take this moment for granted. There was no one after him, no one currently fighting their way into the apartment and especially no one to interrupt him. It was just a silent conversation between his open thoughts that still danced around your prior conversation and the rain’s simple song of serenity. Unknown to him, that serenity wouldn’t last long. 

-

Kory and Rachel were ahead of Dick as he finished paying for the small lunch they had. His hand was struggling to fit in the tight pocket as he was desperately trying to push the coins away somewhere. As he looked up from the change dilemma he noticed how far ahead the others were and jogged to catch up. The concrete was still covered in a thin film of water as it released the remaining smell of rain and the city noise around him cut into his ears. You would be surprised at how deafening the city can be but as his phone bleeped a passing car honked. His phone rattled around in his jacket pocket as the screen lit up with a stoic message from Donna.

Donna-Received at 12:48pm

I’m coming to the apartment. Don’t be alarmed if you hear a knock at the door.

The screen slowly dimmed and got ignored as the notification got sucked away by the soundtrack of the city streets.

Sure, Dick hated how loud the city was but after this he would loathe it. Soon the cars and busy people would be replaced by your screaming and tears.

-

The screen close to the door lit up with a message of ‘intruder’ which caught Gar’s attention. The tiles were cool against his feet when he turned to go wake you, motivated by his state of panic. As he reached for the doorknob he pulled himself away biting his lip as he tossed up whether he should wake you or not. The alert rang through the apartment again but was interrupted as the elevator doors slid open. As Gar’s eyes made contact his stomach dropped. This wasn’t good. And it wasn’t bad. His calming afternoon quickly turned into a nightmare. A pair of leather boots stood in front of him with a very particular rope attached to their hip. 

“With that look on your face I’m betting you didn’t know I was coming?” Her smile pressed into her dimples as she flicked her dark hair from her eyes. Gar got caught back to the situation in front of him and coughed out a chuckle trying not to look at your bedroom door in hopes of keeping your presence a secret. 

-

Rachel had bounced into the passenger seat as she gulped down the remainder of her second coffee of the day. She went to jam it into the cup holder but it was occupied by Dick’s phone. He was too focused on trying to see the oncoming traffic as the car pulled out so she grabbed it and played with it. She missed having a phone, having some form of property other than her clothes. She tapped her boots together as she threw the thought around of trading her boots for a walkman but it was interrupted with an ear piercing siren coming out of the phone’s speaker. 

“I SWEAR IT WASN’T ME!” Rachel screamed as she tried shutting the noise off. Dick’s head whipped around to see a red flashing notification come across his screen. It was a security camera image with the word ‘intruder’ pasted along it. There stood Donna looking up at the camera with a disgruntled expression across her face. He slapped the steering wheel and pushed the gas pedal down as Kory and Rachel sat confused and alarmed. 

“You know it’s just Donna right? Not some psycho killer maniac.” Kory pitched in as she leant forward to see just how angry Dick was but she didn’t see a face of anger. She saw a face that was caught up in the many flashes of childhood memories between the two of you, a face laced with fear. She lowered herself into the back seats and knew it involved you.

Really? As soon as she steps into the city Donna has to show up. Here we go again, around the twist. Two Amazons in the same apartment, wonder if it’ll even be standing by the time I get there. “Fuck!” This launched out of Dick’s mouth without his intention. Two pairs of eyes met his but he knew he had to focus on getting back to you before Donna did something to ruin it all, again.

-

Plan of attack: keep Donna in the lounge room and keep it quiet. If one of you knows you’re here then I’m stuck dealing with two Amazons. TWO!!! 

Gar wanted to squeal and rip his hair out but he knew he had to try and keep a calm facade for the fate of this building. He had explained that they didn’t have phones so there was no way of Dick letting him know she would be coming, she just shrugged and agreed on how having no phones was probably their best bet at not being found and captured. That’s one topic off the checklist. Donna had taken the same position he had earlier on the couch as he offered her a tea which she gratefully accepted. His breathing had become shallow as he was silently praying for Dick to get his ass home now. 

As he turned from facing the kettle back to the rest of the apartment he scanned the area for any remnants of you being there. It was a bit of a saviour that your armour melted back into you even though it was entirely weird and kinda gross. No belongings means no clues. He crossed his arms up and smiled to himself at what could be a successful plan of attack but as he stared out the windows his smile wavered. Donna wasn’t exactly paying attention to him but that damn calm facade had to stay up. 

Looking back at him was your sword in all its glory lying along the outside coffee table. He heard you out there last night with Dick, talking and silencing the giggles you shared. You would definitely kick yourself later for leaving it out there. The kettle was reaching its boiling point and so were his ideas.

Click. 

As the water settled from its boiling point so did his momentary worries. If she can’t see it then she won’t know. New plan of attack. Distract. Gar rushed and made her tea as he smoothly asked if she would want to sit at the kitchen island bench, his excuse? It was right under the heater. Her face twisted and she hummed but came over to him anyways. Lucky for Gar his suspicious attitude was overrun by what she thought was a boyish charm. 

The elevator doors couldn’t open fast enough as the trio stumbled into the apartment with all the groceries immediately hitting the ground. The clambering footsteps alarmed them both as they were met with three other huffing faces. There was no fire. No damage and most importantly no you.

“Okay, what is going on around here? First the apartment doesn’t let me in and then you guys act as if you’ve seen a god damn ghost!” Donna’s voice was raising higher as the seconds passed by. Gar stared past Donna’s shoulder right into Dick’s eyes. I know. Dick’s eyes twitched as he read what Gar’s face was saying, but the reality was that he didn’t actually know the truth. 

-

You shifted beneath the covers as your senses came to, immediately hearing a full apartment. Hey, more food in the house makes me happy too. As you got up off the mattress you listened in and it wasn’t exactly joyful talk, you could feel the anxiety in the household. 

Danger. 

Dick.

You flew across the room and swung the door open, nearly ripping off the hinges. Your fists were glowing ready to fight but you were met with something much worse than a fight. You heard Dick sharply inhale a breath as Kory got in front of Rachel. She didn’t know your history but she knew two Amazons in the same apartment meant trouble.

“What the he-“ She turned from facing the elevator and her frame shuddered. Donna’s sentence got caught in her throat as she stared at you. Her chest was crumbling and you could feel it. She tried swallowing her breath but her dry throat wouldn’t allow it. Instead it came out as a single sob. 

Your stance hardened as her gaze turned cold, glazed over. You knew if you fought her that you would win either way. Each muscle slowly relaxed as you returned to a standing position. This isn’t a time to fight. 

“Donna just listen don’t start jumping to any of the ideas going through your head.” Dick was stepping towards her trying to settle anything, something to stop this. There was an eerie silence filled only with the sound of breathing. Her eyes didn’t stray from yours.

Dick looked as if he was trying to approach a wild animal with his hands up and a calm but shaking voice. His boots squeaked against the tiles and it all broke as if a pin had dropped. 

A gold stream of light ripped through the apartment. “Y/N!” There was immediate screaming as everything broke loose. It was as if the sun had entered the room, light was streaming everywhere as they had to shade their eyes. Dick shut his eyes, trying to get through to you with his thoughts knowing you’d be able to hear them, pleading for you to stop. He had the wrong impression. 

Inside the ball of light wasn’t a battle. Every strike Donna threw you blocked. This isn’t a time to fight. You would let her beat you to a pulp, pummel you into the ground but you wouldn’t lay a hand on her. Another blow came but it burnt. You back jolted as her heel came into contact with your chest. The fibres from the rope dug themselves into your neck as your knees dug into the floor. The light faded but the rope continued to glow. 

Rachel gasped and clung onto Kory as the air was withering it’s way out of your lungs. She had you trapped with the rope around your neck and everyone sat there watching you choke. Now the tables have turned and you look like the intruder.

This isn’t a time to fight. Your hands came up to tug the rope and pull her closer to you. Her boots skidded against the floor and as you looked up to her eyes, they were no longer cold. Instead they reflected you in the pool of tears. Another sob worked its way from her chest and her body struggled to hold it together. She was shaking her head not being able to process who was in front of her. Dick could feel her betrayal and confusion from the other side of the room.

As you tugged the rope again she came that one step closer. A hushed sentence came from her trembling lips. 

“You’re alive?”

As her breath left her body you left the building in a spark of light and her rope puddled on the floor. She couldn’t take her eyes off where you once were as everyone else kept still in the remaining silence.

It was as if she’d seen a ghost.

[bssaz97]

What do you think a Lancaster wedding would be like (also the last ask you answered was awesome thank you can’t wait for part 2)

Today was the day many in their group had been anticipating, the day they stopped being only two people, but one. It was a beautiful day, the sun was out, the clouds were minimal, and the wind was mild but not freezing. A large group was gathered together inside the auditorium of the newly reopened Beacon Academy, who are all here to see the most anticipated ceremony since the end of the Salem War. Most of the guests are friends and family of the bride and groom, but others are ones who have served in the line of duty alongside them and felt it necessary to show their support. Everything was going perfectly.

At the front of the auditorium stood the groom along with his best man, Lie Ren. The two awaits the arrival of the bride to be and her bridesmaids, all the while the groom is sweating up a storm in anticipation. He has waited for this moment for nearly a year and finally the day was here. At the age of 22, Jaune Arc would soon be married to the most special person in his life and his best friend of 5 years, Ruby Rose. Who would soon transition into being his wife after today.

Ren: *Nudges the blonde* Nervous?

Jaune: Yeah. You could say that again. Feels like facing against an army of ancient Grimm again. You know, in a good without the possibility of dying way.

Ren: I see.

Jaune: I can’t believe we’re finally at this day, I mean I knew it was coming eventually but to actually experience it...it’s unreal. You know, in a good way because I love Ruby and wouldn’t want to be here with any other person. Is it weird how much I’ve been looking forward to this day all month long? I mean it could just be wedding jitters but I can’t tell. Did you feel this way during your wedding day Ren? Because I could really-?

Ren: *Placed his hand on Jaune’s shoulder* Jaune, you’re rambling.

Jaune: Sorry.

Ren: *Chuckles* You’re fine. It’s your wedding so just relax and be yourself.

Jaune: *Laughs* Yeah I guess you’re right. I wonder if Ruby is holding up any better?

Meanwhile...

Ruby: Is it time to go out now?

Weiss: No.

Ruby: *Begins to tap heel* ...is it time now?

Yang: *Shakes head* Nope.

Ruby: *Tapping increases* .....how about now?

Blake: Not yet.

Ruby: .......now?

Weiss/Yang/Blake: NO!

Ruby: Gah! I’m sorry girls, I’m just so nervous!

Yang: Everything’s going to be fine Rubes. The word thing that could happen is if Vomit Boy leaves you at the alter. (Which he better not.)

Blake: What Yang is trying to say is; you have nothing to worry about.

Weiss: Besides having jitters on your wedding day is perfect normal.

Ruby: I suppose. I just feel like the anticipation is killing me though.

Nora: *Places hand on Ruby’s shoulder* Ruby. Do you remember how I was on my wedding day?

Ruby: Yeah. We barely got you out of the room that day you were so nervous. We had to pry you from the door. *Giggles*

Nora: And do you remember who it was that got me to walk down that aisle that day?

Ruby: I did. I gave you a speech about how it wasn’t the end of the world but-

Nora: ‘A new chapter of my life’. And you know what? I never regretted it since. Now, it’s my turn to help ya out sister.

Ruby: ...‘sniff’ Oh my gods Nora you’re gonna make me cry.

Weiss: Please don’t! I spend a good half hour getting her makeup just right!

Penny: Friends I believe its time for the ceremony to begin.

Yang: Ok, places girls!

Ruby: *Exhales* Alright show time.

//////Play this if you wish; Image its playing//////

https://youtu.be/fOymevxe1pI

The bride and her bridesmaids start on their way to the main door of the altar. It takes a few minutes but they finally make it to the main door, where Taiyang is waiting. Ruby walks up to her father and he smiles at her, small tears start to form but do not fall. The time for crying would come later. Besides he needed to keep his composure, he can’t afford to look break down on his little bud as he walks her down the aisle.

Taiyang: You ready?

Ruby: *Nods* I’m ready.

Taiyang: You look beautiful.

Ruby: *Smiles* Thank you Dad.

The two interlock their arms and prepared for the doors to open. It was almost time...

*Crrrreeeeaaaakkkk!*

The main doors of the room open, causing everyone in the auditorium to face towards the entrance. As it does, red and yellow rose petals descend from the ceiling and begin to cover the aisle in rose petals. The bride and her father, arms interlocked, starts to make their way down the aisle with her bridesmaids in tow. Everyone watches as the bride makes her way to the alter, but none more so than the groom himself. As he could not take his eyes off of her.

He recalls the time when he first happened to meet this woman in the courtyard of this very school. For the time he had been with Ruby, Jaune watched as she grew from the youthful, awkward, quirky girl he found in a crater into a strong, remarkable, and inspiring huntress of Remnant. Now, she had transcended once again into the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes upon. Today she was adorned in a crimson A-Line/Princess wedding dress with additional armor (vambrace, corter, rerebrace) on each of her arms and a black sash around her waist. This was the woman he wished to spend the rest of his days with, his co leader and best friend, his Crater Face.

Ruby felt as her heart was pounding in her chest, the only thing she can focus on was keeping eye contact with her groom and husband to be, her first friend at Beacon. She recalls when he had helped her out of that crater that day, the one who became her friend when she all others left her behind and it was the boy who puked on her sister’s boots. She watched him as he went through his highest and lowest points in life, but continued to be by her side and help others despite his own suffering. He was no longer the clumsy, inexperienced, and dorky trainee she had met but rather evolved into Remnant’s Shining Knight. Jaune looked more and more like the knights of her childhood dreams, all of her hopes and wishes for him had come to fruition and now he would be taking her as his bride and wife to be.

As father and bride made it to the alter, the groom descends down the steps to meet them, while the bridesmaids walk up the alter to take their positions. Once Jaune meets the two, the two men smile at each other, then Taiyang lets go of his baby girl and hands her to Jaune. As the two interlock their arms, the bride and groom together walk up the steps to the alter. There waiting for them is the bridesmaids the best man and Glynda Goodwitch, the newly appointed headmistress of Beacon. The ceremony can now begin.

Glynda: Dear friends and family, we are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the union of Jaune Arc and Ruby Rose in marriage. In the years they have been together, their love and understanding of each other has grown and matured, and now they have decided to live their lives together as husband and wife. True marriage is more than joining the bonds of marriage of two persons; it is the union of two hearts. It lives on the love you give each other and never grows old, but thrives on the joy of each new day. Marriage is love. May you always be able to talk things over, to confide in each other, to laugh with each other, to enjoy life together, and to share moments of quiet and peace, when the day is done. May you be blessed with a lifetime of happiness and a home of warmth and understanding. Ruby Rose and Jaune Arc, remember to treat yourselves and each other with respect, and remind yourselves often of what brought you together. Take responsibility for making the other feel safe, and give the highest priority to the tenderness, gentleness and kindness that your connection deserves. When frustration, difficulty and fear assail your relationship, as they threaten all relationships at some time or another, remember to focus on what is right between you, not just the part that seems wrong. In this way, you can survive the times when clouds drift across the face of the sun in your lives, remembering that, just because you may lose sight of it for a moment, does not mean the sun has gone away. And, if each of you takes responsibility for the quality of your life together, it will be marked by abundance and delight. May you always need one another, not to fill an emptiness, but to help each other know your fullness. May you want one another, but not out of lack. May you embrace one another, but not encircle one another. May you succeed in all important ways with each other, and not fail in the little graces. May you have happiness, and may you find it in making one another happy. May you have love, and may you find it in loving one another. Do you Jaune Arc, take Ruby Rose to be your lawfully wedded wife, promising to love and cherish, through joy and sorrow, sickness and health, and whatever challenges you may face, for as long as you both shall live?

Jaune: I do mam.

Glynda: Do you Ruby Rose, take Jaune Arc to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do you part?

Ruby: Yes, I do. *Nods*

Glynda: At this point the bride and groom can now speak say a few words.

The two turn to face one another, interlocking hands and looking into each others eyes.

Jaune: Ruby, for as long as I could remember you have always been with me at my best and at my worst and you have never turned me away. For this, I take you as my companion, my wife, and my love. I promise to care for you, honor you, and cherish you, for as long as we both shall love. Now and forever.

Ruby: ....Wow. ‘Sniff’ That totally beats what I was gonna say.

Jaune: *Wipes her growing tears* It’s ok Ruby, I bet I’ll like yours better.

Ruby: ‘Giggles�� Dork. Ok.....Jaune, you have stuck with me and been my pillar when I thought the world would collapse around me. You’ve never once stopped believing in me and you have no idea how much that means to me, not only as a huntress, a leader, but as a friend also. For this, I take you as my companion, my love, and my husband. I promise to stand by you, respect you, and love you with all my heart, for as long as we both shall love and to the next life.

Jaune: ..... ‘sniff’ Come on, that’s not playing fair. *Smiles*

Glynda: The ring bearer shall now come forth with the wedding bands.

From the side comes a four year old Adrian walking up carefully with the bands on a plush pillow. Once carefully walking up all the steps (causing many in the audience to coo and taking photos at the adorableness of it all) he waddles up to the giggling bride and smiling groom.

Jaune: Thanks buddy. *Rubs Adrians head.* Then he and Ruby give each other their wedding bands. One decorated to have a yellow lining with crimson metal surrounding it and one with a red lining with gold metal surrounding it.

Glynda: If any should object to this union, speak now or forever hold your peace...... Really? No one at all?

Everyone: *Laughs*

Glynda: Very well, then by the power invested in me. I now pronounce you, Jaune Rose-Arc and Ruby Rose-Arc as husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.

Jaune: With pleasure.

The now husband and wife took hold of each other’s face and brought their lips together in a gentle but passionate embrace. Then a second gentle shower of orange rose petals descended from the alter as everyone in attendance stood up to applaud the newly weds.

-Fin-

That’s all I got to say about how a Lancaster marriage should go, but I would be happy either way. It took me a bit to think how I would envision this to happen so I hope you guys like it!

Also I got most of the wedding script (for Goodwitch’s lines) from smore.com if you’re wondering because for the life of me I couldn’t remember. But hope it’s lose enough.

Also Qrow and Raven are the ones dropping the rose petals. Btw.

[my-one-true-l]

Hi there, I recall in one of your responses you said you dont view BB as the monster most people see him as (or something like that) Could you please expand on that? I'm very interested to hear :3 thank you!

Hello Dear Anon!

I think the post you’re referring to is this one?

Hang on, My Dear..here we go!

Ok, so let’s talk about BB…We can go on and on about all the fucked up stuff he does…and no one is denying that. By the time we get him, he’s lost it in monumental ways and there’s no way around that.

However, I cannot help but think of all the things that culminated in his final decision to take on L and his willingness to commit such horrible acts and then kill himself in such a horrendous and painful way just to accomplish his goal of defeating L.

Can you imagine being little and having the ability to see numbers over someone’s head and not understanding what they were and having no way to  ask for help? Even if you could, how do you get someone to believe you? Then the realization that those numbers countdown a lifespan and seeing them everywhere is bad enough (Remember, he isn’t like Misa. He did not choose this), but knowing that you were going to lose your parents and you were helpless in stopping it? I just can’t help but hurt for him.

He ends up in Wammy House so you know he’s intelligent, which is apparent in the intricacies of his master plan. He and A are in this program to become the next L and,for whatever reasons real or imagined, he feels he is nothing more than a backup to L and quite honestly, a seemingly unwanted one. He sees A crack and kill themselves, someone we can only assume was a source of comfort to BB.

Then, he leaves Wammy House (and who the hell can blame him) and God only knows all the things that happened to him in this time span between leaving Winchester and ending up in L.A. to begin his grand finale of being the one case L cannot solve.

Now I know what you’re thinking. “But, he murdered those innocent people.” Yes, but he chose people that were going to die that day anyway. He just changed the method and took a little time off their remaining few hours. Not that it makes it ok, because it doesn’t. It doesn’t change that he is a murderer or that what he did was despicable.

What it does do though is show that somewhere inside of him, there is a remnant of someone that had a moral compass at one time. He could have chosen anyone with the initials that suited his plan, but he didn’t. He used his Shinigami eyes to choose victims that had the initials he needed and didn’t have much time left. He actively chose not to end someone’s life that had time left and I think that says something about who he might have been if his life had gone differently. Even in his worst moments, he couldn’t kill the convenient victim. He chose the ones that would do, in his mind, the least amount of damage.

Also, can you imagine the lengths he went to to find out what L looks like and how he acts? How important it was to pretend to be the man he hated when no one had any idea that he was pretending to be L because no one else knew what L looked like. It only had significance to him. And by the end of his decent into complete and utter madness, He was so consumed by his hatred for L and combined with a deep self loathing, he was willing to kill himself by setting himself on fire just to defeat someone he had never met. Consider this. BB symbolically burns L alive if you think about it and uses himself as the vessel to do so.

Now, I’m not trying to paint him as a victim or anything like that because he’s not, but there is a difference between trying to understand why someone does something and excusing what they do. I just don’t ascribe to demonizing him completely.

I’m also not sure how different he and L actually are. They’re both extremely intelligent, determined young men. Both arrogant in their convictions. They both come from rough childhoods and orphaned at a very young age. The only difference is that L had Watari.

And BB had no one.

[ambitionsource]

wait i actually have more weirdly specific questions (if ur up to it) - how do the kids feel about poetry? do they follow any sports? what childhood tv shows were their favs? do they have celebrity crushes? fav coming of age movie? how are they doing in quarantine? what time in history were they obsessed w as a kid? have they ever been to summer camp? what type of candles do they like? what song do they cry to? how do they drink their coffee/tea sorry if u’ve answered already/too many questions

wooooo thank you for your patience iz!! we’re gonna go point by point

poetry?

charlie loves it genuinely and will read it for fun. riley likes it enough but doesn’t go out of her way to read it. farkle loves coming up with insane explanations for the metaphors and is smug about interpreting it in class. zay doesn’t care for it, neither does lucas. asher appreciates it but finds it boring; dylan likes it for the same reason farkle does, only not to look smart but to come up with something completely crackheaded to combat farkle’s interpretation (which he can’t then say isn’t correct, bc its poetry, so all interpretations are valid!). isa doesn’t like it because she doesn’t get the metaphors on paper the same way she can pick them up in film. maya hates it even though multiple people have pointed out that song lyrics are basically poetry -- she will tune you out.

sports?

sports aren’t Big at aaa (aside from dance), but there are remnants here and there. riley follows basketball of course -- even tho as demonstrated in 110, she cannot play it to save herself -- and she tried out for cheer in 9th grade at her old school but was rejected from the squad (another bad mark on a terrible year). farkle prefers wii sports over any actual sport, but will sometimes watch golf with stuart because it’s quality time with his very busy father. charlie did soccer when he was younger before it got phased out by dance and semi keeps up with it. dylan also “played” soccer, but this meant the other little league teammates getting pissed at him bc he never paid attention to the game and was just like “hey! hey, dennis, look at this!” and did like 3 cartwheels across the field. it was a smart move when randall pulled him from the team bc those intense soccer moms were gonna like beat them up fDJSKG. so now dylan is just an unofficial gymnast instead.

isa doesn’t like sports but played them a lot with foster siblings, and even though she sucks she gets very competitive. lucas liked baseball and was good at track in middle school, but he never thought about doing a sport for real because he knew he was going to quincy eventually where his dad is a coach... yeah. no. but he’s great at running fast from the police!

maya hates sports (aside from the art of dance). waste of time, waste of energy. asher has never done a sport nor ever contemplated a sport. the most Sport he’s endured is going with jade to support dave at his swim meets (where nigel also does swim) and suffice to say, asher wasn’t there to look at the swimming.

childhood tv?

dylan to this day is a spongebob squarepants STAN. legend, icon, scholar, best television show ever made, in his opinion. he also was well-versed in pokemon, adventure time, gravity falls, and phineas and ferb. asher and lucas both didn’t watch lots of tv growing up (if at all), so dylan considers it his job to give asher a thorough education in the quality tv he missed as a kid.

maya was all over hannah montana (miley is still a role model to this day for her), and she, zay, and charlie all remember the fever dream that was shake it up. zay especially loved it bc he was (is) obsessed with zendaya. zay and maya both also watched victorious. charlie was sharing a tv with four siblings so he just ended up watching whatever the dominant sister that day wanted to watch. riley was a disney channel girl, and farkle was a pbs scholar (arthur, cyber chase, fetch! with ruff ruff man... classics).

 celebrity crushes?

zay = zendaya (as previously mentioned). charlie = harry styles to a major degree, although his Cover Story would be zendaya if you asked (ironically). maya = britney spears (but in a I Want To Be Her way, major idolization rather than attraction) and technically the same for valerie de la cruz but like... rip to that lmao. isa = loki, yes we know, but sometimes it be that way (altho that does extend a little bit towards tom hiddleston in general). asher = logan lerman, aka the main valid white boy who dresses nice, is polite and soft-spoken, and minds his own business (not to mention he is the Same Type as dylan). dylan = had crushes more on like... personalities so like ash ketchum and percy jackson, and now its irrelevant bc he met asher and became obsessed and its like every other potential crush just flew out the window of his brain. it’s full asher territory in there nowadays.

riley doesn’t have a specific one, she thinks lots of people are Pretty but no one particularly strongly. farkle doesn’t have one because he’s insane and doesn’t have the mental capacity. lucas doesn’t have one because he’s demi and also hates most celebrities as people.

coming-of-age movie?

maya’s is mean girls. farkle’s is ladybird. zay’s is easy a. riley’s is bend it like beckham. isadora’s is eighth grade. charlie’s is dead poet’s society. asher’s is perks of being a wallflower. dylan’s is spiderman: into the spiderverse. lucas doesn’t know movies.

quarantine?

we’ve somewhat discussed this before, but ultimately es and i elected to let aaa remain in a nice, calm universe where they don’t have to endure covid. lucky them. blow a kiss to the ether for us, buds,

fave time in history?

riley is huge on ancient greece and greek mythology. maya loves the theatricality and Drama of the roaring 20s (a baby flapper at heart). zay vibes hard with the 80s. charlie likes the fashion and romanticism and music and art of the 70s (that sort of flowery positivity clashing with the rebelliousness of the movements of the 60s... yeah. that hits something in him). farkle’s is the great depression not only bc he’s an emo but also all the raw and desperate art that came out of it. isadora was a egyptian mythology kid. i know lucas sounds lame (he is), but i don’t think he cares about history -- but if pushed he’d probably say the 90s bc he dresses like he’s straight out of there, everyone was angry rocking, and he wasn’t born. asher likes the victorian era bc of the sheer elegance and Aesthetic to everything. dylan doesn’t have a favorite time period because due to being the subconscious multiverse conduit (i.e. the being that is somewhat connected to every other version of himself) sometimes he wakes up and for a minute he doesn’t even know what year it is 🤪anyway...

summer camp?

charlie has been to many a christian youth summer camp. zay went to the kossal program, but that was basically it. lucas no although he probably wished he could be anywhere else during the summer sometimes including a camp he would hate. riley went for a few years in elementary school. isa has gone to a couple of “foster kid” summer camp bonding things that she despised. farkle went to jewish summer camp One time and was like that was HORRIBLE, never make me spend a whole summer outside AGAIN. asher was more of a Enrichment courses at the rec center during the summer kid than a camper. dylan no because the orlandos couldn’t afford something like that. same for maya.

candles?

riley has a small variety of scented ones that are like... warm scents, like cinnamon and stuff. asher a couple that smell like clean linen but his fear of accidental fires keeps him from ever lighting them. maya has one and it smells like “star power,” a gift from her mom one christmas. isadora can’t have any because many of her foster homes don’t allow them. lucas legally shouldn’t be allowed anything that catches on fire. dylan doesn’t have one but similarly should not be given one. the minki have a whole collection for different things so farkle can just pluck one at any time if he needs one like for a super fancy bath or whatever the fuck rich people do.

mental breakdown song?

charlie’s are “falling” and “from the dining table” by harry styles.

riley’s is “manhattan” by sara bareilles and “rainbow” by kacey musgraves.

zay’s are “imagine” by ariana and “dear life” from the step up soundtrack (post zc breakup).

farkle’s are “vienna” by billy joel and “get it right” from glee.

asher’s is “don’t cry” by ruel.

isa’s is “you are my sunshine” because valerie used to sing it to her a lot when she was really little, so it will always make her a little emotional.

dylan’s (although rare) are “soon you’ll get better” by ts and “make you feel my love” by adele. the second one is because his mom loved adele when she was just starting out bc 19 was released the same year that she passed away so there’s a lot of like subconscious association there even if he doesn’t realize it.

maya doesn’t have one, and lucas also doesn’t have one because in the rare moments he does cry its in his closet in the dark silence alone bc he literally can’t stand the sentience of knowing he’s crying so. sensory blackout.

coffee / tea?

riley will add at least 3 sugars to anything, but she’s ultimately an iced tea gal. lucas drinks it black but only because it never occurred to him to add anything to it and so it’s a big wake up call when he realizes you can drink it and have it NOT be bitter and horrible and demoralizing ( “i thought we were all just suffering for the caffeine fix??” ). isa is a tea girl mostly, although she wishes she could drink black coffee for the aesthetic (and hates that lucas can... it’s like... he didn’t even Earn that aestheticism, smh). asher doesn’t drink caffeine bc it makes him Jittery (and he’s already jittery) so he’s like... the lemonade bitch at coffee shops which kin, and then dylan definitely drinks caffeine but not thru coffee, he’s more likely to get like a hot chocolate.

farkle lives on coffee but he can only drink it from home because they’re rich and can have like fresh ground good imported whatever the heck etc etc so he’s like spoiled about coffee. zay will hit up a starbucks now and then and will order coffee at a diner, but he’s not too attached either way. maya is a fun n free starbucks gal with her frappes and lattes and lots of cream (whipped or otherwise). charlie doesn’t drink coffee or tea bc hes hyper aware of his body and health (he doesn’t really have soda either) and it was frowned upon in his house.

[missywhomst]

Missy and 13 slow dancing?? Please the lack of content has burned my crops down and killed my family

I have a hard time writing short things, but hopefully this’ll restore your crops! 

Missy dropped in from time to time, picking through the wreckage the Doctor left behind in order to find her. Bread crumbs across the universe, blind to her own body count, a conscious act of denial that Missy found endlessly amusing. And it always startled the Doctor when Missy knocked on her door. Whether it be in the middle of London or on the seventh moon of Pyronis, she always blinked and stepped back like she was seeing a ghost. And, really, wasn’t she always?

It was the slow quiet moments that tripped Missy, scuffed her knees and tore up her palms. The betrayed, confused sort of surprise that happens to children when they don’t yet know it’s possible to be hurt. Missy always feels it the most sitting in the Doctor’s library, nestled deep in the TARDIS. Time passing, the progression of days, the melting of suns and stars, has never quite existed here, but on Earth in the places the Doctor clinged to, it was nearing twilight.

Missy wasn’t much of a drinker, and it surprised her to find that out when she regenerated. The Master had used alcohol to run away, sometimes, when the drums took over, when he really thought he might be going mad this time. Drowning the hysterical voice in his head with the sweet cedar smell of whiskey. For Missy, drinking made everything worse, tipped it on its axis, and nothing seemed to make sense, moving too slow, too disjointed. And the only way she kept her sanity these days was by putting everything in tight, dark boxes. Though on occasion there was a sweet spot, tipsy and warm and bordering on hazy, when she could still taste the grapes in the wine and before her mouth got dry. She tipped the wine that was left in her glass down, watching it swirl, a deep red, deeper than blood.

“Don’t you spill that, Missy,” the Doctor warned playfully, appearing in the doorway quick as a phantom, and Missy jumped. Just a little. And closed her eyes a half beat longer than a blink. She breathed, again, slow and deep enough to quiet her hearts.

“Please,” Missy scoffed, dragging her eyes to the Doctor. “This wine would be the finest thing your hardwood has ever been graced with.”

“Is that a challenge?” the Doctor inquired, folding her arms over her chest and sauntering in towards her.

“Even if it was, you’ve never been one for reckless abandon, Doctor. Not in any of your faces,” Missy countered, one leg folded over the other, ankle lolling like a plaything. The Doctor never asked why she came to visit, popping in and staying for days at a time, wandering the TARDIS nearly aimless, some restless spirit wading in her own agitation. And when they spoke it was like this, a dance so delicate Missy feared to breathe. But she never strayed from that aloof, holier than thou attitude that had faded to subtlety by now. She was sure the Doctor could see it, the softness she’d been degraded to, was running from. The problem was, she always ran straight to the Doctor. And hated herself for it every damn time.

The Doctor raised her brow, a small purse of her lips, and ceded Missy a nod. “And you’ve never been one to back down from a threat.”

“Was it a threat? Oh dear, I meant it as an insult. A bit awkward now,” Missy winced and clicked her tongue, a heavy frown pulling down her lips. The Doctor rolled her eyes and stole the glass from between Missy’s fingers which had been dangling precariously off the edge of the couch with exquisitely balanced precision. The Doctor gulped the rest of the wine and set the glass on the end table, and then it was Missy’s turn to raise her brow.

“I thought you didn’t drink.”

“No, I’m just a lightweight this time ‘round. There’s a difference,” the Doctor corrected, and it earned her a smirk. Missy watched as the Doctor wandered to the record player across from the couch, followed her with quick steady eyes. The Doctor hummed softly to the tune, a smile creeping onto her lips, and she looked back to Missy with an odd look on her face. Something between nostalgia and curiosity, some kind of yearning to step forward. And she did, then, so soft and nearly embarrassed as she held out her hand to Missy. “Care to dance?” Missy watched the Doctor’s face flush and laughed, a stunned sort of absurdity that fell from her in rolling waves.

“That’s funny. No,” she laughed, shaking her head, eyeing the Doctor up and down.

“Oh, come on, we used to dance,” the Doctor whined, and Missy rolled her eyes, slouching against the arm of the couch and pressing her chin into her palm.

“At the Academy. As children. Eons ago. Besides you can’t ruin a good dance with the half strung droning of some self pitying sap,” Missy protested, waving a hand as if to indicate her point.

“You think this is a sad song?” the Doctor clarified, gesturing back to the turntable, confused. The music that was drifting from it was drooping and slow, the way blood can trickle down skin in fat drops. “I’d say drowsy, if anything.”

“Got that right. I’m falling asleep listening to it,” Missy protested. The Doctor’s eyes were on her then, sparkling and wonderfilled. The unbearably soft way she got when she could see into someone, into Missy. And Missy squirmed, just a bit, pressing her lips together trying to quiet the screaming ringing in her ears.

“No, Missy, I meant nostalgic drowsy,” she clarified, quickly brushing blonde hair behind her ear. “Reminds me of those cold autumn days we used to sit and watch the rain at the Academy,” the Doctor gasped a laugh then, a smile breaking her face, but it was pained and hesitant.

Missy remembered those days through the haze of their childhoods. One of those rare reprieves from the fear. The quiet, steady afternoons of drifting down into some shared imagination, the small sweet psychic links they formed in those stuffy Academy rooms. “All we did was invent ghosts,” she shook her head, stubborn, and the Doctor huffed and rolled her eyes, just pulling Missy to her feet now. Missy stumbled forward in her laced boots.

“I know you’re incapable of dancing to anything but the burning of suns and screaming of a thousand planets, but, please, just try. For me,” she breathed, eyes searching Missy’s, holding her hands warm and firm in hers. Missy’s mouth fell open, just a bit, and she felt that tingle between their skin and the fiery knot in her stomach, some strange fear that gripped her. And as the Doctor pulled her closer, wrapping an ungodly warm arm around her waist, resting her fingers on her back, a near possessive pulling on her clothes, Missy tensed. Her other hand came up to cradle Missy’s at shoulder level, and Missy found her own hand on the Doctor’s small shoulder, suspenders so elastic under Missy’s fingers.

The Doctor led her into a gentle sway, humming along to the music, and Missy frowned, then, as she noticed those little things about a person you can only see from very close up. How there were permanent little crow’s feet by her eyes, the remnants of her laughter and that incessant smile. And her lashes were darker, up close, and she smelled like tea tree and wildflowers and that warm, muffled smell of crackled time. It seemed to seep into the very fabric of Missy’s clothes, that blouse and long skirt she was so fond of in this body. Then the Doctor, grasping onto Missy’s lower back, brought her closer through the arch of a sway to the right, pulling her in as they drifted to the left. Missy’s arm came around the Doctor’s shoulders, draped over her in an embarrassing display of submission.

“Don’t run away, Missy,” the Doctor breathed, moving her head back to look Missy in the eyes. “I can feel you tensing.”

“This isn’t something I...do,” Missy admitted in a voice softer than she’d anticipated.

“You used to. Before everything went to hell,” the Doctor chuckled, breath coming out quick on Missy’s cheek. “Remember Xanthur Four? You danced with me the whole night on that moon.”

“You stole the President’s wife,” Missy countered, her fingers dipping under the straps of the Doctor’s suspenders, such small shoulders. “You used to be fun. See, things change.”

“What are you talking about? I’m extremely fun!”

“Your idea is fun is going to an anti-grav trampoline park. Used to be a bit more anarchistic. That’s when you were fun.”

“Missy,” the Doctor sighed, “you’re exhausting. What’s so scary about dancing with me, anyway? Aren’t I supposed to be the one scared of you?” She drifted closer, cheeks brushing, so Missy couldn’t look at her. “Why are you the one knocking on my door asking for asylum?”

“Asylum?” Missy echoed, disgusted.

“Just listen, will you?” Missy huffed and shook her head, blinking away the Doctor’s blonde hairs from her eyes. “Why do you keep coming here? Missy? Why now?” Her voice dropped to a near whisper, confused and gentle, without judgement. Her insatiable need to fix it was taking over, and Missy was shrinking into herself.

“Does it matter? Isn’t this what you wanted?” Missy was on the defensive now, taking an accusatory tone.

“No! Well, I mean, yes, it’s…” the Doctor scoffed, disbelieving, “lovely and terrifying to have you here just...talking and us. Like this...” she trailed off, head tilting down to Missy’s neck, her breath slow and hot on the skin there. There was a buzzing between them now, and Missy blinked. “But I’m curious what prompted it. What changed?”

Missy’s frown deepened, brows furrowed, and as she stood there swaying with the Doctor she too wanted to know how it had gotten to this point. When had Missy gone from her chaotic, sinister toying to a softer, open teasing? When had the TARDIS become a welcomed resting place?

“I don’t know,” Missy breathed, letting her head rest against the Doctor’s. She could feel the pattern of the Doctor’s breathing, steady and slow, against her body, and it calmed her a bit.

“All I ever wanted from you, Missy, in any of your faces, was for you to let me in.” Missy could practically feel the Doctor frown then. “You’re shivering,” she breathed, confused, and Missy hadn’t even realized until the Doctor pointed it out. She did that now when she felt too dissected. Laid bare. Then the Doctor let go of her hand and wrapped her free arm up around Missy’s back, holding her tight in a hug. Slowly, Missy wrapped her other arm around the Doctor’s back, letting her head rest against the Doctor’s ear.

“Afraid I’m not very good at that,” she mumbled.

“You’re already doing it,” the Doctor whispered back. And Missy closed her eyes, focusing on the feeling of the Doctor’s body wrapped around hers, on getting absorbed by the music. The slow, drooping sway of it. There was the nostalgia the Doctor was talking about. Hidden deep under the pain.

[jace-the-writer-guy]

Home

“A journey home was supposed to fill a person with thoughts of love. But to Rivy, the thought of returning to the place she was born filled her with heartache from the memories of the day her home was destroyed and all her family and friends murdered. She never thought she would ever find the will to return. But with her mate and her two closest allies by her side, along with her faithful companion, and the knowledge that something was waiting for her there, she felt she was finally ready to face her past.”

///Hey guys, here’s that thing I mentioned! I wanted to write something special for Rivy to be able to bring her some peace, and this was the idea I came up with. It has a mix of different elements in it and I hope you enjoy it///

Word count: 7,085

Light grey clouds filled the sky and rain lightly fell from them late in the morning on one spring day. And charred wood, overgrown with vines and broken rubble was scattered around the mossy cobblestone walkways of a long destroyed and abandoned village in the kingdom of Vale. It was far away from other villages and towns, and especially from the city of Vale itself with only a couple of roads leading in and out of it. It used to be such a beautiful, peaceful little village before hell tore through. Walls were broken down in numerous places and homes were either caved in or completely demolished and burned down, leaving only barely standing support beams. The hatred and greed of a man that used to be only known as Locke had rendered the village destroyed and all of the inhabitants murdered by either bandits or Grimm.

All except for one.

A dark green and brown camouflage truck slowly pulled to a stop outside of the northern gate of the village on the side of the road and the four occupants got out of it and into the rainfall, all pulling their hoods onto their heads. The first one out was Rivy, and she grabbed Cero Miedo from the back and put it on her back before she slowly walked up to the vine covered sign outside the gate, and she stopped for a few moments while Momo sat down beside her, her ears erect and alert. Slowly, the memories of Rivy’s childhood began to come into her mind of how her sister used to walk with her up and down the road to take in the silence of nature and the cool breeze coming through the trees from the ocean just a few miles away. It was a memory she held dear in her heart for years. A memory of a peaceful time when she was just an innocent girl.

Soon, a hand was placed on her shoulder and squeezed gently. “We’re with you, love,” Ulysses said gently at her side, “You can do this.”

She felt another hand on her other shoulder a moment later. “Take all the time you need, sister,” Zarya spoke up, her voice low and calming and her scales and the tips of her hair a calming blue color as she held Chroma Sting’s grip in her left hand. She looked from Rivy to the ruined village and she let out a sigh, “I can imagine this used to be a beautiful place.”

Momo’s head nuzzled against her hand, and Rivy smiled a small bit before she gently petted the girl between her ears. As she did that, Saint stepped forward past everyone, Rupture ready in his hands, and he stopped at the sign. “It’s still hard to believe that a village of our people were wiped out, just like that…” The soft spoken man said and took a hand off of Rupture to clear vines away from the sign to reveal the village’s name.

Scalewood

Those with the traits of dragons were very rare among the Faunus race. While there are hundreds of thousands of Faunus on Remnant, there are less than twenty thousand of the formerly nomadic dragon Faunus due to how rare they are, in addition to massacres on them for being the freaks of the freaks dwindling their numbers over the long years before the Great War. History lessons mostly gloss over the darkest parts of humanity’s past, but the blood staining Vacuo’s sand is still there, and the trail followed many of the dragon Faunus into Vale as they tried to migrate and escape the cruel treatment they were subjugated to.

Things were mostly looking up for them all after the Great War and after the formation of the Rangers, giving a select few a good direction in life and giving countless more protection from injustice, and their numbers are still slowly rising back up. But, events like the destruction of Scalewood, a village of around three hundred dragon Faunus, have just taken those numbers back down. Even still these days despite their natural strength and fitness, dragon Faunus have hard times in human dominated settlements, almost always having to cover their scales or other dragon-like traits to prevent themselves from becoming targets of racism and hate, and prevent themselves from being ran out of their homes or killed just for being even more different than other Faunus.

Tears slowly began to form in Saint’s eyes and fall down his cheeks before he ripped some of the vines away and clenched his fist. “I can never understand why things like this happens to our people…”

He closed his eyes and took a few calming breaths before putting his hand back on Rupture, and he opened his eyes back up, and then he began to sense something off about the area now, and then he and everyone began to hear Momo growl lowly. “Grimm are here. Southwest of us.”

Rivy’s lip twitched a bit and she gritted her teeth before drawing Cero Miedo from her back. “One day, I hope this village can be rebuilt and be a refuge for dragon Faunus again.”

Ulysses pulled Hammerfall off his back as well and rested it on his shoulder. “Well, Locke and his bandits are dead. New project?”

Rivy hummed a bit in response. “I’ll… think about it.”

Zarya pressed a button on the side of Chroma Sting’s grip with her thumb and the barrel extended out by twenty inches, and she looked at Rivy and gave a small grin. “We’ll talk about that later.”

Zarya jumped up onto the remnants of the wall next to the gate and looked around through her weapon’s sight, and she saw a small group of Beowulves led by an Alpha. She took aim at one of the smaller Beowulves in the group and pulled the trigger, and the round blasted from the barrel, coated in ice dust from the barrel, and zipped through the air before slamming between the Grimm’s eyes, ice bursting around its eyes in a flower and blinding it. It growled and let out a roar before thrashing around, trying to rip the ice off its face as it slammed into the other Grimm and distracted them all. She took a few more shots and all three rounds hit three other Beowulves in either their arms or their torsos before they all finally took notice of her.

But by the time they did, Rivy and Ulysses were already charging at them with Momo at their heels, and Saint wasn’t far behind them. Zarya switched firing modes and began to send bursts of three rounds out and all of them slammed into the Alpha’s feet and the ground around itself feet, soon pinning it there before it had the chance to do anything. While it was stuck, the other Beowulves ran past it, with the blinded one’s vision now free, and they jumped at the three that were running at them. Or they would have, if it wasn’t for Momo hopping between them all and beginning to snarl and growl brutally, baring her fangs at the Grimm. Her semblance activated at that and all three Beowulves stopped in their tracks and whimpered, completely frozen in fear.

Rivy, Ulysses, and Saint took that opportunity to easily take out the three Grimm. Rivy simply cut the head off of one, Ulysses smashed another’s head into paste on the ground, and Saint stabbed the bardiche blade of Rupture into the last’s chest. Before long, the Alpha Beowulf broke free from the ice and let out a loud howl into the air, and multiple more Beowulves began to run into the area from outside the walls. Momo started to growl at them all as she did before, and some froze in fear while others began to hesitate, but some were left unaffected as Momo’s semblance can’t affect too many things at a time. When she was finished with those, she began to dart around the area and out of the reach of the Grimm, keeping them occupied while the others attacked. Those that were unaffected became the targets of Rivy and Ulysses as Saint went on the attack against the Alpha, taking aim with Rupture and pulling the trigger a few times to blast dozens of lightning dust pellets into its torso. The lightning mixed with the wet fur of the Alpha made it howl in pain and caused it to become paralyzed for several moments, letting Saint go in on the attack. He struck at its legs and midsection with multiple side slashes and pushed the Alpha back across the cobblestone and rubble before he spun around and let go with one hand while keeping a hold of the grip in his other while raising Rupture high into the air, and he swung it down with all his might against the Alpha. It’s body recovered from the paralyzation just in time for it to raise its arms up and block the attack, and then it finally countered and sent its claws into Saint’s side, causing him to grunt and slide across the ground on his feet.

Meanwhile, Zarya jumped down from the wall after picking off a few of the smaller Beowulves and reloading, and she ran into the fight while Chroma Sting’s barrel retracted into it’s short ranged form. The larger scope flipped to the side and Zarya aimed through the holographic sight, and she began to fire bursts of rounds into the Grimm, freezing limbs solid for Rivy and Ulysses to easily take off. One Beowulf broke off from the others and ran for her, jumping at her and swiping its claws toward her head from the side. From a few feet away, she dropped to a crouch and took a hand off her weapon to place flat against the ground. She used her semblance and multicolored aura glowed from the stone, and soon a spear of stone shot from the ground and pierced through the Beowulf’s chest and heart, killing it instantly.

Zarya jumped back to her feet and hopped across the rubble of a destroyed home toward her brother, careful not to get her feet stuck between any of the stone or wood. She jumped onto a pillar of wood that was still standing and then leapt off of it as the Alpha Beowulf sent another hard strike toward Saint. The red scaled dragon raised Rupture to block the strike as Zarya jumped from the pillar toward it. She pointed Chroma Sting toward the Alpha’s arm and began to fire bursts of rounds into it, each one bursting into icy flowers along its black fur and bone covered arm. The Alpha growled in annoyance at that and turned its vision toward her, and that gave Saint an opening to knock its arm away with Rupture and knock it off guard, aim at the unprotected underside of its arm near the torso, and pull the trigger.

The Alpha let out a pained roar as its arm was nearly blown off of its body, just hanging by a thread now. Zarya continued her descent toward the Alpha and reared her right fist back, using her aura to grow the hard-light blades of Drachenklaue, and she punched down at the Alpha’s jaw. The claws tore into the Grimm’s flesh, and soon its bottom jaw was broken and mangled. It roared once more in agony and stumbled away from the two, and Zarya gave one look to Saint before giving a nod and unloading the rest of Chroma Sting’s magazine into the Alpha’s chest. She took the magazine out and inserted the one connected to its side, and then she darted off toward where Rivy and Ulysses were fighting off the lesser Beowulves as Saint grinned at the Alpha.

She knew they didn’t need the help, but this was Rivy’s home the Grimm were trampling over, and she wanted them all gone as quickly as possible. As she bolted off from Saint, the red scaled dragon fired another shell of buckshot into the Alpha’s body to get its attention back on him. When it did, Saint jumped back away from it and in its rage-filled mind, it leapt after him and swung its remaining claws toward him. That was the last mistake the Grimm would ever make. Saint planted his feet to the ground and transformed the stock of Rupture into its hilt form and switched his hold to it, and then he jumped forward toward the Alpha, jumping past its reach and impaling Rupture’s blade deep into its chest and its heart to end it.

With a yell, Ulysses brought the heavy metal head of Hammerfall down into a Beowulf’s head and slammed it down into the ground, squashing it into a pulp before it turned to ash and disintegrated. Then, he released the blade from the hammer head and pulled it free, and then he leapt over toward the next Grimm and his attacks became faster now without the massive weight of the hammer. The Grimm took swipes at him with their claws but it was either at the cost of their limbs or their lives. One by one, those that attacked him were all left defenseless or disintegrating under his charge until one Beowulf got lucky and was able to tackle Ulysses to the ground, his blade being knocked from his grasp.

The Beowulf pinned him down and opened its mouth to bite down around his head, but then it was caught off guard and let out a confused growl when it saw Ulysses quickly begin to morph into his werewolf form thanks to his semblance. Then, Ulysses let out a snarl that caused the Beowulf to let out a rather confused, fearful whimper, and Ulysses powered out of its grip and his own claws clamped down around the Beowulf’s head, and then he threw it off of him and jumped up to his feet, and he let out a piercing howl into the air that caused many of the Grimm to stop and turn toward the commanding tone of the howl.

That… was a big mistake.

Even the ones Rivy was fighting had turned their attention away from her and as soon as they did, Cero Miedo sliced through them both and cut them in half, leaving their bodies turning to ash in the wind. Rivy began to go after other Beowulves that were distracted and easily cut them all down like they were nothing as Zarya darted around them all, unloading rounds into their chests and throats to thin their numbers down, empty casings falling and clattering along the cobblestone under her. Rivy focused her aura into her heavy blade and swung it in a sideways arc to send out a slash of aura toward another three Beowulves, maiming two of them and killing the third before Ulysses jumped at them and clawed their heads off.

Rivy stayed as calm as ever as she continued to fight off the pack of Beowulves with her mate and their close friends. They were her family. She remembered how she met each of them and she remembered how far the three had gone for her to see her avenge her family’s deaths and the destruction of her village. She remembered the tavern she met Ulysses in while she was trying to figure out her next steps. She remembered the weapon shop in Mistral she met Saint and Zarya in while she and Ulysses were finding whetstones and oils for their blades. She remembered how willing they all were to offer their aid and support to her after her life had been thrown into hell and her trust shattered. She remembered the day they all stood with her as she drove her sister’s blade through Locke’s chest. She remembered falling into their arms after the heavy use of her semblance tore numerous muscles in her body.

She could never thank them all enough.

Rivy blinked her eyes as she snapped herself back into the present, and Cero Miedo was pierced through the chest of the final Beowulf of the pack. The Grimm disintegrated into dust and Rivy let the tip of her blade touch the ground, and she closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. Soon, she felt a hand on her shoulder and she opened her eyes to see Ulysses back in his normal form, giving her a reassuring smile.

“I know this is hard for you, Rivy,” Ulysses said to her and placed his hand over his right shoulder, feeling the pain and heartache through the Mate’s Mark on his shoulder that she was trying to hide, “Take your time. We’ll stay here as long as it takes.”

“Are you alright, sister?” Zarya asked the older dragon Faunus, “You zoned out when we were fighting the Grimm.”

Saint arrived at them all just then, loading new shells into Rupture. “You can talk to us, Rivy. We’re here for you.”

Rivy shook her head clear and she sighed. “To tell you the truth… I’m not sure I am alright right now or not,” She felt Momo nuzzle her head against her hand and she patted the dog’s head a bit, “Being here again makes me remember everything from when I was a child. This building here…” She looked behind herself at the ruins of a small building, “This was the blacksmith and gunsmith. My grandfather always ended up fixing the guards’ weapons and making them new ones all the time. And that building…” She pointed to another building and everyone followed her finger toward a half standing building down the street, “That was the bakery. I used to buy muffins there and take them to my sister during her breaks, and we would eat them t-together wh-while talking a-about our days… ”

Rivy’s grip loosened a bit on Cero Miedo and she brought her other hand up to cover her mouth as her lips began to quiver as the rain slowly began to stop falling. Almost immediately, she was wrapped in a tight embrace by her mate, and then tears began to fall from her eyes. She used to never let the memories make her break down like this but after seeing Tiamat for the first time in twenty years at Heaven’s Clearing, she could hardly hold her emotions back now. She felt Ulysses’ hand pull her head closer and softly stroke the back of her head. She pressed her face against Ulysses’ shoulder and dropped Cero Miedo to the ground, and she wrapped her arms around Ulysses as well and cried into his shoulder.

Before long, Zarya’s arms wrapped around them both from the side, and then Saint’s wrapped around them from the other side. “Don’t hold anything back, sister,” Saint said softly to his close friend, “Let everything out that you can, and then we’ll look for what Tiamat wanted you to find.”

“You’ll get through this. You’ve gone through so much already,” Zarya said, the tips of her hair still a calm blue as her scales were, but slowly turning to dark grey as she started to feel sadness for what happened to everyone in Scalewood, especially Rivy, “Just a little more and you can hopefully be at peace.”

“We’ll rebuild this place,” Ulysses said in a gentle tone to his mate, “Once we have everything figured out, we’ll come back and start rebuilding. We’ll turn this back into a village for dragon Faunus, and we’ll make sure it stays that way for years. This will be home for you again, Rivy. I promise. And besides…” He separated from Rivy and the others did as well, and he kept her hands on her shoulders and smiled as the sun began to peek through the clouds and coat the area in rays of light, “We’ve both been needing a home for ourselves for a long, long time. The long roads, the camps, the inns, the bars, our apartment… All of those will be worth having to deal with once we rebuild this village.”

Saint looked around the ruins of the village for a few moments and slowly pulled his hood off his head. “I think I would love to help rebuild this place and have a home here as well. To have it be rebuilt to its full glory will hopefully let all those people rest easy.”

“Rebuilding this village in memory of all our fallen brothers and sisters…” Zarya began to say, taking her hood off as her scales and the tips of her hair faded fully to dark grey, and she sighed sadly, and then that color quickly turned to a fiery orange color as she gave a confident smile, “We’ll keep their memory alive. I know a Ranger that keeps up with who lives and lived in each village in Vale. I’ll have her give me a list of all the people that lived here and we’ll build them a memorial with all their names on it. This will always be their home, and I want it to be mine as well.”

Rivy stayed silent as every word sunk in from her closest allies. She looked down to the ground, her cries slowly calming and her tears subsiding, her breathing slowing down. She got down on one knee and looked into Momo’s eyes now, and then the atlesian shepherd licked her cheek a bit. Rivy couldn’t help but chuckle and she brought Momo in for a hug and she stroked her dog’s fur on her back and between her ears for several moments. Over the last year or so, Momo wasn’t just a pet for Rivy. Momo was a companion that always kept her company until Ulysses was finally able to be with her again, and Momo gave her emotional support for the days she needed it when Ulysses wasn’t there. Momo helped Rivy a lot in the time she had adopted the girl, and it was something Rivy would always appreciate.

“Thank you, Momo…” Rivy said softly to her pup, and then she slowly stood back to her feet, pulling her hood off and grabbing the hilt of Cero Miedo along the way, her eyes filled with determination as her cheeks and the scars on her face were stained with tears as she put her weapon on her back, “Thank you all. If it weren’t for all of you over the years having my back and letting me trust people again, I would be either dead or drowning myself in whiskey. You’ve helped me so much and I’ll forever be grateful to you. Yes… we will build a memorial for all the people that were murdered here and we will rebuild this village in their memory. We will rebuild this village to be a home for any dragon Faunus that need it and we’ll keep it safe from any danger whether it’s Grimm or another clan of worthless bandit trash. We’ll never let it be destroyed again!”

She said the last part in a yell and Momo howled in support of her mama, and all three of her companions started grinning widely. They had all seen her at her lowest of lows and highest of highs, and each low point hurt them all to see but each high point left them all raised up with her and this was one of those high points. After all those years, she was finally back in her home village, facing the last part of her terrible past head on and with a determined look in her eyes.

This was the Rivy they all respected and loved. She was loved as a close friend and sister to Saint and Zarya, loved as a mate to Ulysses, and of course, loved as a mother to Momo.

“So Rivy, where did Tiamat say that thing was?” Zarya asked the elder dragon Faunus, her scales and the tips of her hair turning back to blue.

Rivy turned toward the center of the village where a destroyed fountain was scattered along the cobblestone. Just just beyond that, past a few more buildings was the half destroyed remains of where she used to work so long ago. “The inn. Tiamat said that specifically.”

“Your mother and father owned it, didn’t they?” Saint asked as they all began to walk toward the inn, “I remember you telling us that you watched your father mixing drinks a good amount.”

Rivy nodded in confirmation. “He was mesmerizing with it. I learned a few things from him but neither him or mom let me handle the drink mixing,” She chuckled a bit, “I would have started after I turned twenty one.”

“I would have loved to have been around for that,” Ulysses said and smiled at his mate, “You’ve mixed a few drinks for us before and they were good. Do you think you would want to work there again and practice more with mixing drinks?”

Rivy didn’t have to think on an answer. “Absolutely.”

The group of four plus Momo made their way past the rubble and wood, a good majority of it still overtaken by vines like the entrance to the village. Twenty years had gone by since that day, and nature had definitely did its best to reclaim Scalewood. They all arrived at the ruined inn and stood right outside of it, all surveying the sight of it. The wood was half charred and the stone was of course covered in moss mostly, and many of the windows were broken out. It was a wonder half of the three story building was still standing. It would definitely need to be torn down the rest of the way so it can be rebuilt anew. But for now, that wasn’t a priority. Rivy stepped forward away from the group and Momo was right there at her heels, and she looked around the doorframe a bit before reaching over to wipe away the moss that covered the stone to reveal a sign.

“Welcome to the Blue Dragon Inn”

The words were faded and barely legible, but Rivy still remembered exactly what it was supposed to say. “It’s been so long… but I’ve finally come home.”

She walked through the doorway and Ulysses followed her while Saint and Zarya began to wordlessly patrol around the building, keeping an eye out for anyone or anything that would try to sneak up on them. Rivy stopped once more after stepping through the door and she looked around again, taking in the sight of everything after so long. She remembered everything about the parts that were still standing. She remembered waiting patiently at the side of the bar while her father mixed drinks for her to take to some patrons, and she remembered the smell of the food the staff cooked constantly for them all as well. She sighed at the sight of all the broken tables and glass, and all the shattered and destroyed cups and tankards that would have been used for drinks ranging from water to just beer while the broken glasses were reserved for the special mixed drinks.

“That table in the corner,” Rivy pointed Ulysses toward the half destroyed table and the chairs in the corner of the room, “That’s where my grandfather always sat when he closed his workshop for the night and played cards with his old friends. He was always having a good time even when he lost.”

“That was Riah, right?” Ulysses asked softly as they could hear Momo’s claws tapping against the floor as she explored around where they could walk freely.

Rivy nodded. “He was a great man. Eighty years old but still working like he was twenty. Dragon Faunus do tend to have more strength and stamina at older ages than other Faunus or humans.”

Ulysses hummed lightly. “I would have loved to meet him and the rest of your family.”

“And I would have loved for you, Saint, and Zarya to meet them all.”

After taking a few moments to recollect herself, Rivy began to walk toward the bar and walk around to get behind it, taking Cero Miedo off her back. She saw a pile of rubble behind it near the middle, and she remembered what Tiamat had told her to look for. “Behind the bar, under the wood and rocks that fell from the back wall, you’ll find it. I’ve protected it all these years for you.” That was all she said, but Rivy knew that it was something extremely important. She went over to the rubble and got down on her knees, propping her sword against the bar, and then she started to slowly dig through it. It took several long moments and Momo was next to her during it, just watching curiously to see what her mama was doing. And soon, Rivy found exactly what Tiamat had meant, and she pulled it out of the rubble.

It was a family photo, taken and framed just days before the destruction of Scalewood to be displayed right above and behind the bar on the mantle. Her grandfather, Riah, was on the left side with completely silver hair, looking as old as his age but standing as strong as ever. One black, blue tinted horn was left on his head as the other had been long broken off after a battle against a powerful Grimm and his eyes were blue. He was wearing the uniform of a blacksmith complete with a recently-cleaned grey apron, black pants, and a brown shirt under the apron. The next over was her mother, Fay. She had red eyes and red scales that covered a bit more of her cheeks than what Rivy’s did and they extended to cover the entirety of her arms and her sides, along with her upper back and shoulders. She was wearing a simple outfit of blue jeans and a red blouse. Her hair was long and red as well. Next to her was Rivy’s father, Thorne. He had dark blue hair that was cut short, the same color as Riah’s once was and he had dragon wings on his back, blue in color mostly. He wore a pair of blue jeans as well, along with a dark blue vest. Kneeling in front of them was Tiamat, wearing nearly full black leather armor except for over her arms, showing off the red scales that covered them. Her hair was in a tight ponytail. Next to her and standing up in front of their parents with a happy smile on her scarless face was Rivy herself, a happy sixteen year old girl with strong hopes for her future. Her hair was just past her ears in length at the time and still red like her sister’s in contrast to her blue eyes and scales. She was wearing her simple, modest barmaid uniform.

She was holding her baby brother in her arms, Kairon. He had cute little blue wings sprouting from his back.

“H-how did this survive…” Rivy said quietly as tears came to her eyes once more and she clutched the sides of the frame in her hands. The glass on the front was broken but the picture itself was undamaged, “It’s been so long since I’ve seen them all…”

Ulysses walked around the bar to her and knelt down behind her. “You looked cute, you know.” He said softly.

Rivy smiled, her voice catching in her throat a bit. “Th-that’s what everyone told me. Tia… She picked that out for me to wear.”

“It was a good choice.”

Rivy shifted the position of her hand and felt something off about the frame, and she turned it around and noticed a secret compartment had been rotted away a bit, revealing a silver key inside. Rivy knew exactly what the key went to. She gently opened the compartment up and took the key out, and she handed the picture to Ulysses before she looked around the wall behind the bar. It was made up of cobblestone and held together by cement, all of it polished and smooth, but in a small area there were stones that weren’t held together at all. It surprised Rivy that they had stayed like that all those years, but she suspected that Tiamat had something to do with that. She pulled the stone out of the wall and soon revealed a hidden safe, and she pulled the safe out, put the key in, and easily unlocked it. Rivy hesitated for several moments before she took a deep breath and slowly opened it up, sitting down fully on the floor with her back against the bar and Momo sitting next to her.

Rivy gasped and her eyes widened at seeing the contents of the safe, and she reached in and pulled them out. They were all family photos, along with thirty thousand lien. Rivy slowly looked through them all and her eyes teared up even more than from seeing the first picture. They were all pictures of different moments of everyone’s lives. There were old pictures of her grandfather and his mate, photos of each newborn baby from Fay to Thorne, all the way down to Kairos. One was of Tiamat on the day she became captain of the guard, the youngest in Scalewood’s history at twenty years old. Another was of the day Tiamat forged her sword in Riah’s workshop, a day that made their grandfather extremely proud. Another one was the day after Fay and Thorne became mates. The last that Rivy saw before she had to put them back in the safe was of her first day as a barmaid. She had a huge, toothy smile and her eyes were closed because of it.

“This was what she wanted me to find…” Rivy murmured and took the picture from Ulysses, putting it in the safe and closing it back up, putting the key in her pocket, “It’s survived all these years here…” She hugged the safe close to her chest, and for just that moment, Ulysses could see past all the scars, all the hard muscles, all the years of pain and frustration, and all the battles they’ve shared and he could see her for who she should have been. Just an innocent girl that wanted to do nothing more than help her village.

“Do you want to go now since you found that?” Ulysses asked softly and laid his hand on her shoulder, and then he caught sight of something in the wall where the safe was pulled from, “Hmm?”

He peered inside the wall and blinked, and then he reached inside and pulled out two bottles of a blue liquid. “What’s this?” He set one bottle down and turned the other around to inspect the label, “Blue Frost Bourbon?”

“O-oh gods, two bottles survived…” Rivy began to smile a bit, “My father… He was always trying to make a great bourbon and he finally felt like he did with that. Everyone loved it, but I could never have a drink because I was too young. I wonder…” she leaned forward and reached into the wall and felt around for a few moments before she felt a piece of paper, and she grabbed it and pulled it out, and she unfolded it, “He left the recipe for it… I never expected a-any of this wh-when we came here today…”

She opened the safe and put the recipe inside, and she closed it back up before returning to holding the safe to her chest. “I think… we can go now,” Rivy said and stood up off the ground. Ulysses noticed that she had a small smile on her face and her tears weren’t of sadness anymore. They were happy tears, “I think this is all she wanted me to find.”

Ulysses stood up as well, holding the two bottles of bourbon in his hands and he smiled at the sight of his mate’s expression. “You look a lot different now I think.”

Rivy looked at him in confusion. “Hmm? What do you mean?”

“You just look peaceful now. It’s beautiful.”

Rivy smiled a bit more and she stepped forward to kiss him on the lips. “I think I finally feel at peace now too. You know…” She pressed her head against his shoulder, “After we rebuild, then… I think I want to try to have a child of my own with you.”

Ulysses started to smile even more and pressed his head down against her’s. “I would love nothing more than that, love." 

The two stood like that for several moments before they shared another kiss, and then they left the in along with Momo and they met back up with Saint and Zarya. "I’m assuming you found it?” Saint asked hopefully.

Rivy nodded in response. “I did. And I think I found peace along with it.”

Zarya smiled at hearing that and her scales and hair began to change to a bright white color to display her absolute joy for Rivy. “I’m so happy for you, Rivy. If there was anyone in the world who deserved peace, it would be you without a doubt.”

“That’s amazing to hear,” Saint said and smiled as well, “What did you find?”

“A safe full of family photos and thirty thousand lien to help us rebuild Scalewood,” Ulysses answered for his mate and held up the two bottles of the cool blue liquid, “and two bottles of Blue Frost Bourbon with at least twenty years of age to it, along with the recipe for it.”

Saint’s smile turned to a grin. “When do we get to try the bourbon?”

“And when do we get to see the pictures?” Zarya asked and began to grin as well.

Rivy laughed at that and smiled back at them. “Let’s get back to the truck and we’ll do just that.”

Rivy led them all back through the village and this time, she walked with a new purpose in her steps. Everyone was glad to follow behind her, and Momo was especially happy because she sensed how happy her mama felt and her tail wagged behind her with each step. They soon made their way back to the truck and Zarya went to the back and opened the door, then pulled out a small table from the truck and four shot glasses from a small box and set them on the table. The table was built to be pulled straight out from the truck with another table beside of it that can be pulled out with a burner in it to cook food easily. But for now, the table was all they needed.

“How excited are you to finally be able to try this stuff, Rivy?” Ulysses asked his mate with a grin as he opened one of the bottles up, and they were all immediate hit with the scent of cool mint.

Rivy smiled and breathed deeply though her nose. “I’m very excited. I’ve always wondered what it tastes like and now I finally have the chance.”

Ulysses filled each glass with the light blue bourbon and closed the bottle, and then everyone took a glass in their hands. “I think this calls for some sort of toast, doesn’t it?” Saint asked everyone.

Zarya nodded. “I agree. This is a very special occasion.”

“I think that’s more than fitting,” Ulysses agreed as well and nodded, “Would you like to start, Saint?”

Saint nodded back at him and raised his glass. “To the reclamation and rebuilding of Scalewood.”

Zarya raised her glass. “To everyone who was lost, and to everyone who is still with us.”

Ulysses raised his glass and smiled at his mate. “To Rivy.”

Rivy smiled at that and slowly raised her glass into the air, and she looked around at these three people closest to her, and she remembered her grandfather, her parents, her sister, and her baby brother. She remembered the hell she endured to get to this point, all to avenge what had happened to her village that she was now planning to rebuild with the help of Ulysses, Saint, and Zarya, and she was sure that the friends they had made throughout the years would aid them in that. 

“To family.” Rivy said finally, and each person downed their shots as Momo howled into the air.

Everyone could feel their mouths tingle with the taste of the mint along with the alcohol in the bourbon, and the coolness of it made it go down extremely easily when they all swallowed it. After that, they all got the faint aftertaste of blueberry, and it was all tasted absolutely wonderful to them. The transition from the taste of mint to blueberry was perfect. Everyone there could definitely tell why the bourbon was so popular among everyone in Scalewood.

“That… is amazing,” Saint said and let out a deep breath, still feeling the coolness of the mint in his mouth, “I haven’t tasted anything like this in my life.”

“Neither have I,” Zarya said and licked her lips, humming in delight, “I think that drink was perfect to mark a new chapter in our lives.”

Ulysses nodded and refilled everyone’s glasses, and everyone eagerly drank it down once more. “Gods, it’s so good.”

“Oh Light, the second drink tastes even better~” Saint said with a big grin, “I probably shouldn’t drink anymore considering I’m driving.”

Ulysses chuckled at that and put the lid back on the bottle. “I agree. I think these should only be broken out for special occasions. What did you think of it, love?”

He looked over to Rivy and what he saw brought a smile filled with joy to his face. She was smiling like she was sixteen again, and tears of happiness fell down her cheeks once more. “It’s absolutely amazing…” She looked up to the heavens, where she was sure all her family were watching her. She could just imagine the smile on her father’s face right now after she finally got to try his bourbon, “I-it’s perfect, dad. I’ll do my best to make more one day.”

Ulysses put his arm around her shoulders and kissed her on the cheek. “They would all be happy for you, Rivy.”

“When are we going to start rebuilding?” Zarya asked Rivy, her scales still white.

“I think… we should start as soon as possible,” Rivy answered her, “Let’s go back to Vale now. We have a lot of people to call.”

[composereggwrites]

Love will not break your Heart (but dismiss your Fears)

Chapter 2: just let me go (we'll meet again soon)

Fandom: The Magnus Archives

Rating: T

Characters/Ships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Georgie Barker/Melanie King, Alice “Daisy” Tonner/Basira Hussain, Gerard Keay, Gertrude Robinson

Additional: Reincarnation AU, Soul Bond, Team as Family, Autistic Jon, Post-Canon Fix-it, Childhood Friends, Hurt/Comfort

They stand in the Panopticon, fire raining down from the sky, as the Eye stares down at them.

Jon takes Martin’s hand in his.

A wedding, a death, a fire, and Tim.

Chapter:  1 | 2 (below)

Ao3: 1 | 2

They stand in the Panopticon, fire raining down from the sky, as the Eye stares down at them.

Jon takes Martin’s hand in his.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Martin?” he asks, one last time, because fear has made a home in his heart. A palace in his bones.

“Jon,” Martin says, looking him in the eyes, so full of determination, filled with warmth, with love. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Sap,” he mutters, but a smile creeps onto his face nonetheless. “We’ve already left the message for the girls, and well… This is really it, isn’t it?”

“Got cold feet?” Martin asks with a laugh.

“Always,” he snorts. “You’ve felt them when we’ve slept. You’re the space heater between the two of us.”

Heart beating in his chest, Jon takes Martin’s hands. The world is crumbling in every direction. A year of this hell has been far too long. Searching, aching for answers, for a way to fix the devastation he has wrought-- no, the devastation Jonah Magnus used him to usher into the world.

Jonah Magnus, who, like the rest of the institute, is no more than a pile of ash at their feet now. Martin had been quite happy to have the honor of setting that blaze.

It’s touching, in a way. Finding the answer on how to set them both free, and Martin chooses to do it for him. No more ash on Jonathan’s hands.

(He’s more than a little fragile, at the end of the world, but he could’ve been the one to do it. The one to bring Magnus to the ground. That he didn’t have to means more than he can express with words. Martin has always been looking out for him, even when he was too much a fool to realize).

The Web’s strings hang heavy in the air around them, coated with the remnants of their old life, of their meeting. But the Mother of Puppets doesn’t have control of all these ties. Jon’s body is linked to everything now, the perfect conduit of fear. The lynch-pin in this hellscape. Take him out, and the rest crumbles. The issue is in managing to kill a near-immortal Archive.

Martin has always been his anchor. He never needed that rib, Jon gets that now. And this is something they can use. Here.

“Martin, I love you,” Jon starts. “You keep me grounded. When I start to fall apart, you hold me together. Even as I dealt with the end of the world rather badly, you drew me back out of my shell. I promise to be at your side forever more, I promise to return the favor. You are not just a caretaker, you deserve to be taken care of, and I will be there for you. I am here, with you, as we stand, united.”

Martin is already tearing up, as his hands shake in Jon’s grasp. “Jon,” he says, with a waver in his voice. “I love you. I know, it was a long time coming. Back when we were both researchers, I thought I could ignore this little crush, because that’s what it was. But you’re so kind, underneath that abrasive exterior. You pretended that nothing could get to you, that you at most tolerated the people around you, but I could see through that.”

He takes a shuddering breath. “I’m with you, until the end of time. I tie myself to you like I’ve done a hundred thousand times before, in less words. In actions. Every step we take together has brought us here, bound to each other at the end of the world, and I wouldn’t do this any other way.”

The strings around them pull taught, smash them together. Jon clings to Martin. Holds him tight as the web holds them tighter. It hurts, the Eye observing this, burning through them as he clings for dear life, but observation just makes it real. The Web tries to resist, but Jon pulls harder, pulls the strings of his own design, and lets them bind.

A thousand stars scream in the sky, but the roar of the still-burning fire is louder. The pounding of his heart in his ears louder still. Or maybe that’s Martin’s. He can’t really tell anymore, as their hearts beat to the same tune, in the same time.

As the pain dies down, he can feel Martin, there in his chest. An ache subdued by his presence at his side. A new hole carved and filled with love, with his anchor.

Jon laughs, hysterical, for just a second. Tears on his cheeks until Martin puts his hands on his shoulders, steadying him.

“Ready for the next step?” Martin asks, worry flooding his voice, and oh, he can feel that in his heart. All the concern for him, bubbling over the edges of the pot. It makes him gasp, legs trembling, and all he can do is grip Martin back. It’s all he can do to not drown in the Tsunami of Martin, the whirlpool with them both at the center.

“Give--Give me a second, yeah?” he whispers. “Don’t tell me when.”

“Oh,” Martin replies, no doubt feeling the outpouring of gratitude. “Yeah, alright.”

They hold each other. Letting the waves of emotion crash down, drowning out the fear, out the pain. Held close together. This is what matters.

Then--

Pain.

Sharp, biting pain. Driven into his chest.

Blood meets his lips as he coughs, his own sharpened rib embedded in his heart, by Martin’s trembling hand.

As Jonathan Sims falls, he holds Martin’s hand, and wishes he could muster the energy to wipe those tears away.

“Don’t worry,” he whispers,  as the door in his mind becomes a vacuum, sucking all the fear out of him, waves of love and safety and peace replacing the frostbite of terror. “We’ll meet again, yeah?”

Martin nods. He sits down by Jon, and kisses him, ignoring the iron taste. Ignoring the poison that he takes from Jon’s mouth.

The fire closes in, and consumes them. But there is no fear. No pain.

The world bends.

 Good cows stand in a field, and no Eye bears down from the sky. No people scream in terror on that day.

Four bodies are found dead in The Magnus Institute, and the world dreams of a year that never happened. A year of fear and pain burying itself deep in their hearts.

A year that will never come to pass.

 And Jonathan Barker-King wakes up.

---

Jonathan has always been an odd child.

Georgie and Melanie knew this when adopting him.

But that doesn’t change the fact that one night, when he’s twelve years old, Melanie can feel him shaking her awake.

She rolls over, facing him. “Mm, what is it?” she murmurs, knowing the shaky hands as someone who is afraid.

Jon’s voice is heavy, edged with static, and Melanie wishes she could see his face, as he says, “There will be fire. We need to leave.”

That gets her out of bed, kicking Georgie awake.

“Mel, what’s wrong?” her wonderful, sleepy wife groans.

“Up up up, now! Phone Basira, tell her we don’t know how much time we all have, but we need to go.” She tries to keep her voice level, urgent but hushed.

It gets Georgie up, at least. Springing to her feet. “I’ll get the emergency bags. Fuck. Alright. Guess it couldn’t last forever.”

Melanie makes sure she’s holding Jon’s hand, as she leads him back to his room, digging out the always-packed travel bag hidden there. Filled with clothes and food and money, and for him, some books he’s shoved into it. “Pack up your laptop and anything else you want that will fit, alright?” she says, soft.

“Got it, mom,” he replies. “Go take care of what you need to. I’ll be out in five minutes. That’s the plan, yeah?”

She nods at him. “Very intelligent, you are.”

And then she dashes, grabbing her own bags and the keys, tossing them all in the trunk of the car. Important documents, keepsakes she knows they wouldn’t be able to bear losing, anything irreplaceable. From the the meowing coming from the back seat, it sounds like Georgie had managed to catch The Admiral and bundle him into the cat carrier, too. The stubborn old cat refused to die of old age or illness, but Desolation’s flames might be enough to do the trick, and none of them would want to risk it.

There’s sounds from the house next door, and that reassures her that Daisy and Basira are up now, no doubt going through the same protocol they’d set in place for just this event. Hopefully it’s a fluke, but they can’t take that chance.

If it’s the past coming back to haunt them, with fire and flames, then they can’t afford to wait.

In ten minutes Georgie is at the wheel, and the car roars to life. Basira is getting the last of the Hussain-Tonner bags in their car, Martin bundled away in the back no doubt.

“Can I say goodbye?” Jon whispers, and Melanie sighs.

“Sorry, kiddo, but we gotta go.” She reaches out, holding his hand between the seats, as they peel out, headed far away.

He’s quiet, solemn. After five minutes of quiet, he sighs. “That’s alright. I’ll see him again, someday.”

“Yeah, no doubt about that,” she whispers back.

The next morning, their houses are on the news, as they watch in their hotel room, a hundred miles away. A fire, a roaring blaze, arson. But no bodies to be found.

“It was Jude, no doubt,” whispers Georgie, while Jon is fast asleep.

She nods. “Guess we tested our luck too long, staying in one place like that. If Jon hadn’t… Known. Then we might’ve been dead by now.”

“I’m worried,” Georgie sighs. “About him, about Martin. They-- We’re right, yeah? They saved the world together, and it involved a soulbond. They were both absolutely miserable before they saw each other that first time.”

Leaning her head on her wife, Melanie says, “Yeah, but… We’ll just have to make do, for now. Keep an eye out on them both. I think it might be a good idea to keep them separate, no contact, otherwise they’ll be sneaking out to the car some day and meeting each other halfway.”

Georgie snorts. “That’s absolutely something this Jon here would do. We’ve really spoiled him, huh?”

“From what I understand, we’ve been parenting just fine,” she says back, a roll of her unseeing eyes. “It’s his grandma who gave him all that childhood trauma last time. And a Leitner, what the fuck? How do you let an eight year old get his hands on one of those?”

That gets a full blown laugh. “Yeah, alright, you’re right. We’ve probably fucked him up somehow, but he’s not nearly as fucked up as when either of us first met him. Man, he needed some intensive therapy.”

---

Tim Stoker looks at the new-hire one time, and after the thought of I’m going to flirt with him so much passes through his head, another pops in of, wait that’d be weird--

Why?

He stares. Jonathan, the name tag reads, and why is that so familiar?

“Welcome aboard the library crew, my man!” He says out loud, giving a casual grin. “What’s a pretty boy such as yourself doing here?”

“You’re quite the flirt, Tim,” he says back with a laugh. “Sorry, not in the market right now. I’m not really… I’m not interested, mostly.”

He holds up his hands. “Hey, all cool, no worries, Jonny-boy.”

That gets a snort. “Call me Jon, nothing like that, please.”

“Got it, boss. Still haven’t answered my question,” he says.

“Oh, well…” Jon takes out a pen from his pocket, and twists it around his fingers, spinning to and fro. “I’m going to be working down in the archives, mostly. Gertrude’s taking me on as an… Well, an intern, I guess? Assistant? It pays decent, and it’s my chosen field, so… It’s a good chance.”

Tim nods. Opportunistic. Not many people get to work with good ole’ Gerty. “She works in the paranormal department yeah? That oughta be fun.”

“Parapsychology, specifically,” he says back. “With a focus currently in the not-apocalypse. Lots of info on that still to be gathered.”

“So you’re interested in spooky stuff, awesome!” Tim laughs. “You gotta tell me all the weird things. We should do a scary movie night sometime together.”

Jon stares at him, as if trying to piece together some mysterious puzzle. With big eyes, intense eyes, meeting his, looking into him, in a way that he hasn’t felt since--since--

A nasty migraine is forming in the back of Tim’s head.

Jon looks away.

“Sure, why not? You're off shift now, though, right? You should get to your class.”

“How did you--?” he starts to ask, but Jon has already descended the stairs into the archives.

��The pain doesn’t go away, as he makes his way through math. It’s all numbers and easy problems. A blur as the teacher speaks, and he can’t focus. There’s something he’s forgetting. A nagging sense at the back of his mind, and he’d ask Sasha, or his roommate Martin for some help, except that seems like a very bad idea right now. He doesn’t know why. But it does.

Crashing onto his bed as soon as he gets back to his dorm is the best idea. Martin will assume he’s been out having fun, and he can sleep this stabbing agony off.

 It almost works, too.

 Fire, fire, so much fire.

Danny--who is Danny?-- Danny dead. The world a mess. Revolving around him in Stranger ways.

Falling apart.

Sasha is Not Sasha. Jonathan Sims is a Monster.

Martin is a stubborn fool.

The world blurs.

Explosions ring in his ears.

 Tim Stoker r e m e m b e r s . . .

 Shooting upright with a gasp, Tim stumbles out of bed. It had only been a few hours, but if anything the migraine has gotten worse.

He runs to the toilet, puking up whatever's in his stomach from that morning. Dizzy as another wave of nausea hits.

“Fuck,” he mutters.

There’s a knock on the door, and Martin -- Martin Blackwood, Martin Hussain-Tonner, fucking Martin -- is there, asking if he’s okay, in that kind way he always has.

“Yeah--” his voice cracks. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. Just some bad food.”

“Alright,” comes the reply. “Let me know if you need some help.”

“Got it,” he croaks. And then he’s alone.

Sitting on the cold tile, he holds his head in his hands, groaning.

He needs to contact someone.

Who?

Jon--? No. Not Jon, not yet. It was Jon’s presence that did this to him, no doubt, but he didn’t seem to actually know Tim.

Gertrude, maybe?

Fuck it, Gertrude it is. He has her number, she’s his boss, after all.

^Hey, Gerty, I think my head just died. Absolutely exploded with pain. Not coming in tomorrow.^

Not the most formal, but she hasn’t minded before.

^Well, I hope you feel better, Tim. Remember to check in if you’re staying out too long. It’ll be a circus here, otherwise, if we’re understaffed.^

“Fuck,” he hisses out again, because she definitely remembers. And she knows what happened.

^Mind filling me in on how the circus is doing?”

^They’re all in bits and pieces. It was quite the display, or so I hear. I have the tapes, if you want to listen to them.^

Of course she does.

^Sure, I’ll grab them on my next shift, sound good?^

^See you then. Feel better, Tim.^

 He does.

Looking at Sasha now, it’s bizarre. A deep pit in his stomach, knowing he forgot her, believed the Not!Sasha had been her for so long. It doesn’t sit right.

As he makes his way down the steps to the archive, he finds her following. A few feet before the door, he turns to look at her.

“Need to speak to Gertrude too?”

She blinks, crossing her arms. “If I do, it’s none of your business.”

A snort escapes him. “Learning how to be abrasive from our lovely head archivist?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“You know, he wasn’t really that bad. I mean, I totally got killed during the worm thing, so whatever you went through, I guess I still need to find out, but… He was trying his best,” she says, nonchalant as she picks at her fingers.

“Did seeing him give you the worst migraine of two lives too, then?”

“Absolutely. I thought I was dying. Turns out I had!”

They both start to laugh. He bumps his shoulder against her. “God I missed ya, Sash. Things went whack without you there.”

“Did the two lovebirds ever manage to work out their problems?” she asks, rolling her eyes.

“Not before I got exploded! Shit got weird. Honestly, you missed a lot of stuff. I--Well I’d fill you in, but whatever tapes Gertrude has will probably do that for me,” Tim says, gesturing back to the door.

“Listening party?” Sasha suggests, as she steps forward to open it.

“Sure, maybe the trauma of listening to our own deaths will be easier with a friend and some good wine. Gotta be at your place though, cuz Martin doesn’t know.” He steps in with her.

Gertrude looks at them, a box set on the empty chair. “Take it, have fun. I believe it’ll do the job enough to fill you in.”

“Thanks Gerty! We’ll get them back to ya’ when we’re done!” Tim says, giving a wave as Sasha scoops up the box. He can feel her hatred of the nickname, but it’s far too late to stop him from using it now.

 They pick up on tape 39, conveniently labeled in order by Gertrude no doubt, for Sasha’s sake.

It’s awful.

She’d been spared the paranoia, the depths Jon had been plunged into.

They stop on tape 50, for the night. It hurts too much to keep going.

---

Jon wakes up from his nightmare.

Shaking, terror coursing through his veins. Memories he can’t remember. He’s not a fool.

Reincarnation was part of what he’d studied, while looking into parapsychology. No conclusive evidence, of course, that’s impossible to get. Almost everything presented as esoteric is false. The most true subjects tend to involve the apocalypse, and even then, it’s not a sure shot.

But they always involve dreams. Dreams of memories. Past lives mean past memories, trying to find their way to the present.

And his dreams have been getting worse.

But that’s ridiculous, right? Utterly ridiculous. He’s being superstitious. Gullible. There’s never been proof of reincarnation adequately presented. To think he had a past life is to give into the folly of the people he criticizes.

(He knows, deep in his soul, that some things are true. He can’t discount everything.

But there’s no need to let this knowledge consume him.)

Jon sighs, sitting up. It wouldn’t do to dwell on this, not when he has a test today that he needs to last-minute cram for.

His phone lights up by his side, though, and he picks it up. Blinking blearily at the screen in confusion before yesterday hits him.

^Hey Jon! Good morning! How are you doing?^

From the contact of Martin!!

A smile spreads over his face, dragging him out of bed and through his morning routine. Food. Toothbrushing. Clothes. Heading out for his class early, instead of almost late for once.

^I’m good, Martin. I have a test today, soon. Going to study for that. How about you?^

The reply comes almost instantly, which drops a small pit in his stomach, because martin’s first text had been two hours before Jon had gotten up.

^I’m good too! Thanks for asking! I’m working on an essay right now, but nothing super important.^

^Well, don’t let me keep you from your work.^ He’d feel bad if he were the reason Martin got a bad grade. It’d be awful.

^Nah, I don’t really need to worry about this class. I’m passing with a 96% right now, and I’m one of the only people who talks in class. Like, during the discussions and all!^

^Teacher’s pet, are you?^

Jon can picture the little laugh Martin does at this, scrunched up nose and crinkled eyes. ^Better than failing, that’s for sure. You’re absolutely someone who sits in the back of the class and does his best to avoid conversation, though, aren’t you?^

He chuckles, smiling. Then he rubs his neck, glancing around as he walks to make sure no one is staring. There’s the usual bustle of people, but no one looking at him. Just leaves falling in the breeze, and the nip of the autumn air. He’s good, so far, but it’d be dangerous to keep this up inside.

(He might not care, because this is Martin. Self-consciousness be damned.)

^Yeah, you’ve got me pinned.^ he says back.

^I hide behind my laptop screen whenever I can, studiously take notes, and never talk to another living soul if I can avoid it.^

^Wow, what a nerd :P^

^Can’t believe my best friend is a nerd :P^

Jon has to take a second to pause, sigh, and roll his eyes, because Martin, please. ^You mean the same friend who would spend hours recounting books he’d read to you in perfect detail? Or the friend who once asked their teacher for more homework because he was bored? That friend?^

^Absolutely.^

^What a shock.^

^I’ve been completely betrayed by your sudden nerdom that has arisen in the past 11 years that I have totally never encountered before.^

That tugs a full-fledged laugh out of Jon, and he has to duck onto a less-used path behind a building to hide for a full minute, because Jonathan Sims does not randomly laugh at his phone in public.

When the coast is clear, he keeps walking, and slips into the building with the ease of someone whose had classes in it for three years already. He navigates to his classroom and takes his (unofficial) seat in the back, pulling out his notes and pretending like he’s studying, not thinking about Martin.

^I feel like I’m not the only nerd in this conversation.” The text sends as a quick reply, and then he follows it up with: ^Also, in class now. Going to study. Chat later?^

^Of course! Let me know when you’re free! See ya :D^

He rubs his face, setting his phone to silent and in his bag, trying to scrub away the blush that must be rising to his cheeks.

Martin is… So Martin.

Over the past decade Jon had wanted so much to reconnect with his old friend. An ache in his chest, screaming until all he knew was the noise, yearning to find him. Fixated on the missing piece until the misery became background radiation in his life, his new normal. Settled deep in his bones. Uncomfortable weight buried in his skin, just enough to fade into his usual, everyday pain. There, but not the focus.

 (Not usually. There were some days, some nights, where the loss of Martin dug its claws in. His body full of hooks and they pulled. As if trying to tug him closer. Back to Martin.

He almost followed it, a few times. Deep in his mind, a haze of the gaping hole, guiding his feet onto an unknown path. But he never went far. Always turned around and walked back home. His moms raised him well, he knows better than to be alone.

College the first year was scary. Terror welling in his throat. New people, new places. Too many unknowns.)

 One small, niggling little voice in Jon’s head, a voice filled with the needles of anxiety, had tried to tell him that Martin wouldn’t be the same. That if they ever reunited, Martin wouldn’t care about him. Or maybe, maybe the years had warped his thoughts, his understanding of who his friend was. An idealized image instead of the real person.

But he also remembers Martin fretting over him when Jon fell ill. Spending the night out of worry, sneaking in through his window to bring him medicine at midnight.

He remembers Martin listening as Jon rambled, and then rambling in turn. Jon knows so much about spiders to this day, because Martin had found a book and read all about it to him.

He remembers the poetry, still scrawled in notebooks and on pieces of paper he refused to throw away. Packed into that bag as from the fire they escaped.

That voice in his head never held any real sway.

But it’s nice to be proven right, for a change.

[bae-leth]

This is definitely not how things are gonna turn out but I’m kind of a sucker for doomed timeline AUs and my Blue Lions bias is calling to me after E3, so I hope you enjoy! I am so so SO sorry it’s soooo long, I got carried away. But yeah, hope you like it!

~~~~~~~~~~

Ingrid, soft-spoken and unwavering, was the first of them to fall.

Dimitri knew he should’ve never sent her on a mission so far away, practically skirting the volatile border between Faerghus and Adrestia. It didn’t matter that it was a simple escort mission, that Ingrid had been on more than handful of them before, that she’d travelled even farther than that for some missions. At the very least, he shouldn’t have sent her alone.

“Milord, you can’t spare any of the others with how tense things are right now. I’m capable.”

“Can’t you wait for another mission? I’ve been receiving troubling reports about the border.”

“My family doesn’t have the luxury of waiting anymore, milord. I…We need the money.”

The money. A noble house near ruin, desperately in need of money to the point that Ingrid would repeatedly throw herself into dangerous situations. He understood why she was so desperate, having heard the rumors of an earlier incident with the Black Eagles’ Dorothea Arnold.

But he should have refused. Then he wouldn’t have to be in his room, dawn quickly approaching, with the letter he needs to send to Ingrid’s family to inform them of their daughter’s death not done.

A powerful Bolganone spell, burning her Pegasus to nothing and leaving barely anything of Ingrid to find. Adrestia’s known for their mages the messenger who delivered the news stated, not even bothering to wait for Dimitri to stop shaking, to overpower the need to throw up, to make his comment.

He snapped at the man, sending him off with an uncharacteristic glare. He had informed the Empire well in advance that Ingrid would be in the area. Edelgard had responded promptly. Adrestia wouldn’t threaten to break years of peace, uneasy as it may be at times. No, they wouldn’t. She wouldn’t.

But Ingrid was still dead, her body laying in the morgue, waiting to go home. She would’ve been devastated to hear of the fate of her dear Pegasus. Devastated to know there was no body to bury with her, as she had once mentioned offhandedly back in their school days.

The letter still wasn’t started when a maid came to inform him that breakfast was ready.

~~~~~~~~~

Ashe, eager to please and wearing his heart on his sleeve, never truly recovered from his adoptive father’s death.

Dimitri was an idiot to ever think otherwise, to not pay closer attention. After all, Ashe was a master of hiding his grief and frustration, a trick of the trade from a childhood spent in the slums. But Ashe had become more open after Sir Ronato took him in, gave him a home, an education, a family. The old lord had become everything to Ashe, his world. His idolization of the man was no secret to anyone.

Of course, it would stand to reason that Sir Ronato’s death would cause the young boy to lapse into old habits. But Dimitri didn’t see it, didn’t search for it. But he was worried, particularly due to reports of more hostile remnants of Sir Ronato’s rebellion feeling furious at Ashe for “betraying” Sir Ronato, for biting the hand that fed him. This is what happens when you show pity for street rats, they said. It was a dangerous situation. And so, after graduation, he invited Ashe to spend some time at the castle, under the guise of training with the famous knights of Faerghus.

“Heh, you’re such a worrywart, Your Highness. I’m alright on my own! Besides I’ve got…Gaspard Castle to look after now.”

“Are you truly fine, Ashe?”

“…Yes, I am…But fine, if it’ll ease your mind, I’ll stay at the castle for a little while.”

A week later, Dimitri messed up. He let Ashe stay in the room when updated reports of the remaining members of Sir Ronato’s rebellion came in, about how they seemed to be lingering around Gaspard Castle. He underestimated Ashe’s abilities to sneak out of the castle, despite the number of guards stationed all over, despite the extra guards he assigned outside Ashe’s room on the off chance something would happen.

Gaspard Castle was eerily quiet once he and Dedue reached it, the pair having raced ahead of the rest of the soldiers. Yet there were telltale signs of fighting all over. Cracked windows, dislodged stones, cuts deep in the door…blood…so much blood…

Dedue was the one to speak to the remaining soldiers once they caught up. Leaving Dimitri in the room that could belong to none but Ashe. Staring at the still, bruised, and bloody figure of the young boy curled up in bed, looking for all the world asleep.

They never find enough evidence to charge anyone, no matter how much Dimitri searches.

~~~~~~~~~

Sylvain, friendly and passionate, disappears without a trace.

It’s terrifying how similar it is to a case from their days in the academy, which also happened to involve a member of the Gautier family, Sylvain’s disinherited older brother if he remembered correctly. Despite it occurring with Faerghus, the Church dispatched the Black Eagles to take care of the matter. Without giving him much information, even though it’s his homeland they’re in, Church orders or not. Not even Sylvain received the full story. All they were told was a mysterious beast appeared and that the Adrestian students had taken care of it. Not even a day later, Sylvain received word his brother had vanished, although he should have been at the castle where the beast was, the castle being all his brother had left to his name after being born with a crest.

Dimitri tried to speak with Edelgard, or even Professor Byleth who oversaw the Black Eagles, but he never got more information. Not even his attempts to get an audience with Lady Rhea made any progress…It was suspicious…

But he trusted Edelgard, truly he did. They may have different ideals in many categories, but Edelgard wouldn’t…couldn’t…

Without any more information, nothing could be done. As far as the records knew, Sylvain’s brother went missing and was presumed killed during the beast’s attack. Sylvain was frustrated but begrudgingly accepted the flimsy story…And then, just a few weeks earlier, Sylvain had said something strange.

“Milord, do you believe in the crests? That they’re a treasure and something we should hold with pride?”

“Sylvain? Where is this coming from? …Are you feeling alright? You’ve been looking sickly for a while now.”

“…I didn’t run off…No matter what anyone says, I didn’t run…And neither did my brother…”

Sylvain left soon after that, practically in a trance, never giving Dimitri a chance to ask him to explain. But the pieces started to fall into place once he received the news of another mysterious beast attacking near Gautier territory. Which was once again dealt with by the Adrestians, on the Church’s orders, without so much as informing Dimitri of the situation until it was already “taken care of”. And a few days later came the news that Sylvain Jose Gautier was missing…He had always known that no matter how high one was ranked, all followed the Church…And yet…And yet…Sylvain…

Dimitri didn’t sleep that night. Or the next night. Or the one after that. If Dedue noticed how dark the bags under his eyes were getting, he never said so aloud. Dedue just left various types of tea and herbal remedies by his table each night. Felix wasn’t nearly as considerate, telling him constantly to his face that he “looked like shit”. But his grip was unusually gentle when he grabbed Dimitri’s arm and dragged him to his room after Dimitri nearly collapses during a light sparring session.

He stopped responding to Edelgard’s letters.

~~~~~~~

Annette, clumsy but the hardest worker you could meet, died a month later, and Dimitri had no one to blame but himself.

Medicinal teas didn’t work. No known potions worked. Spells were 50/50, but overusing magic like that could have adverse effects on his body in the long run. But sleep was elusive. Once in a while it’d come, and he would get four, five, even six hours of much needed rest. But then the cycle would start again. One day, two days, three days, four…If this kept up, he wouldn’t be able to finish his work…

He had been having tea with Annette, listening to the young girl’s words about her latest studies in magic, about how she’d been taking a try at making potions, but the results constantly blew up in her face, sometimes to somewhat dangerous extents. Potion making was a very tricky art, she had said, explaining that the most careful person and the clumsiest still run the same risks. Suddenly, his vision went black. What seemed like mere seconds later, he opened his eyes, noticing that he was slumped over the small table, the teapot and cups shattered on the ground, and Annette hovering over him, teary eyed and looking ready to bolt for help. Dimitri quickly, but unsteadily, set himself to rights, trying to calm Annette’s concerns, assure her that he just hadn’t been sleeping right.

Annette didn’t believe his claims that a sudden blackout could occur after missing one night of sleep. She puffed out her cheeks and constantly darted in front of him whenever he tried to escape the room. Eventually, he gave up and told her the whole story, of his terrible insomnia that had started with Sylvain and refused to bow to any treatment.

“So, nothing has been working, huh Prince Dimitri? Well, maybe no one’s made the right potion for you yet!”

“Right potion…Right…The right potion…Forgive me, Annette, I swear I’m not normally like this- “

“No, no, say no more! Please hang in there a little longer! I’ll double my efforts, just for you! Oh, but I better be quick about it, you really don’t look good at all…”

He should’ve understood her words. If it had been before, before things started going to hell, before his friends started dropping one after the other, he would’ve noticed, he’s sure of it. But the tea with Annette came after five nights without sleep. It was nothing but a miracle that he had been able to make passable conversation with the young girl until he passed out. And so, he sent her off without a word, without remembering the stories she had been telling him just minutes earlier.

Damn him. Damn him for actually being shocked when he got the noticeably tear stained letter from Mercedes a week later, telling her that Annette had been mortally wounded during an accident while making potions. Damn him for having the gall to go to Annette, dear little Annette, to say his goodbyes because nothing could be done, as if he had any right. Damn him for running like a coward when Annette spoke her last words, apologizing for not getting the potion right.

Damn him, damn him, damn him…

That night, when Dedue came to Dimitri’s room with a new blend of tea that would hopefully bring the prince some rest, a desperately made concoction of every plant in his garden that produces drowsiness, he opened the door to find the young prince of Faerghus crumpled in his bed, muffling sobs into his arms. Dimitri met Dedue’s shock gaze with tear filled eyes, and yet he couldn’t compose himself.

He couldn’t…How could he take this anymore? Ingrid…Ashe…Sylvain…Annette…

Dedue sat beside Dimitri for the rest of the night, forgoing all propriety for the sake of gently running his fingers through Dimitri’s hair, trying to bring some peace.

~~~~~~~~~

Mercedes, the sweetest girl and finest surrogate sister anyone could find, fell in battle and Dimitri, worthless prince he is, wasn’t aware of any of it.

Brigands…? Enemy soldiers…? Ah, no, that’s right, it was another group of rebels this time around. Dimitri shouldn’t have been on the battlefield. He hadn’t slept in three days. He couldn’t eat anything the previous night, or that morning either. His advisors had pleaded with him. Dedue had bowed on his hands and knees, begging over and over for him to rest. Felix had tried locking him in his room, only to be thwarted when Dimitri threatened and then actually attempted to escape through the window, despite the death-defying fall awaiting him should he slip. But no, stupid, stupid, stupid. He had to come. On his honor as Faerghus’ prince, as the one his people counted on to protect them. The one who had to protect others…Even if he’s nothing but a failure…

Mercedes hadn’t said anything to him, even though they were to set out to the battle soon. He couldn’t blame her. She knew why Annette died, he told her as much after the funeral. She despised him, a weak-willed coward who claimed to be a reliable leader. Leader of what though? Dedue, Felix, and Mercedes were all that was left. But he was still the prince, he had to lead the soldiers, lead his kingdom. But…

Mercedes had turned to him at that moment. Dimitri could only watch dumbly as she gently cupped his face in her warm hands, a soft, broken smile on her face.

“Will you push yourself forever, Prince Dimitri? Will you work and fight until you break? Is this truly what you should be doing?”

“They need me…You all need me…I won’t…can’t…I need this, Mercedes. If I lose this too, then…”

“No, you don’t need this. But you won’t listen anymore…Very well, rely on us. Rely on me. You will return home alive, my prince.”

He wouldn’t listen anymore. Yes, that was true. If he had listened for once, if he had thought things through…The battle was fierce. And he hadn’t realized how much he relied on Ingrid’s distractions, Ashe’s sharp eye, Annette’s magical prowess, and Sylvain’s tenacity…or how lacking their team was without them. Maybe that was why that arrow flew true, jamming right into his eye without any warning.

As he fell to the ground, screaming as he covered his face, blood seeping through his fingers, exhaustion seemingly intensifying everything to unbearable levels, part of him couldn’t help but think about the archer who got him. What skilled archery, what incredible aim. So much like Claude…Too much like-

No, no, no, no, no…They weren’t anywhere near Leicester. Claude wasn’t in Faerghus, he’d know. He wouldn’t risk war, he was too clever for that, Dimitri knew that! Just like he knew with Adrestia, like with Edelgard. He’d know, he’d know…He’d know! He would! They wouldn’t…They…wouldn’t…?

Selfish fool he is, too lost in himself, he never realized there was a woman ferociously protecting him from incoming soldiers until back up could reach them. He didn’t notice when she fell, one arrow to many, one sword too many…He wakes up a day later in the medical wing. He can’t see out of one of his eyes. Even in his dazed state, he knows it’s gone…He should be angrier about that, shouldn’t he…?

Felix, despite Dedue warning him against it from the bed he is confined to, tells him Mercedes is dead. He never was the type to mince words, huh?

Dimitri doesn’t know what the others see in that moment. All he knows is that Felix lunges at him, Dedue trying to scramble from his bed, several healers rushing towards him, staffs raised.

He doesn’t wake up again until two weeks have passed.

~~~~~~~

Dedue. Ever gentle and ever loyal. They were…supposed to visit Daska together…

Dimitri hadn’t adjusted to his new eyepatch yet. As he had suspected, the eye couldn’t be saved. He would have to learn how to battle with one eye, relearn how to handle everything, relearn how to judge distances, both in battle and in life. And yet he wasn’t trying. There he was, lazily lying on his bed for the third week in a row. The doctors had said that, other than the eye and severe exhaustion, he was alright. But he confined himself to his room since that stupid battle. Unopened letters from Claude were piling up on his table. He didn’t answer anymore, but Claude was refusing to back down. At least Edelgard had stopped trying months ago. If either of them ever came to visit him personally…He truly hoped it wouldn’t happen…

Dedue had tried to get him to eat more, but he only ate a few mouthfuls of most meals before the nausea overwhelmed him, making him push the plates away and crawl back under the covers of his bed. Dedue had tried to cut Dimitri’s hair, noticing that it had been steadily growing over his weeks of confinement. But Dimitri had slapped the scissors out of Dedue’s hands, so the matter was left alone for now. Instead Dedue increased his efforts to get food into Dimitri, to find ways to help him sleep, to take care of his eye so that the wound would heal properly, to make him wash himself because even that much had become exhausting to the prince. It was pathetic how Dimitri was forcing his dear friend and retainer to become his personal caretaker.

Felix, who had always been a constant visitor over the years, was now a daily presence at the castle. Surprisingly, he never tried to drag him down to the training grounds. Instead, he’d push him over and lay down next to him on the bed, not saying a thing no matter what Dimitri did. Not when Dimitri stubbornly ignored him, not when Dimitri growled at him to leave, not when he screamed so loudly and fiercely that the soldiers would run in with weapons drawn, not when he actually got into a fist fight with the other man…Not even when he was too tired to do anything but press his face against Felix’s shoulder and cry…

The nobles of Faerghus were growing immensely dissatisfied with their weak-willed prince. Some of the more ambitious, and black hearted, had resorted to assassination attempts. Not that Dimitri was ever aware, to lost in himself and his own pity to pay attention. But Dedue…Always protective, always on guard…Always ready to give everything for Dimitri, even though he never deserved someone so incredible.

“Your Highness, please stop saying those things about yourself. I follow you because I have the utmost faith in you. Nothing has changed that.”

“…There’s only three of us left, Dedue…Go home to Daska…Please…Leave me.”

“That is one order I can never follow, Your Highness.”

And yet he did follow that order in the end. Dimitri’s latest assassination attempt came in the form of a band of highly trained assassins, who snuck into the castle late at night, through one of the few blind spots the castle guard had. When Dimitri, sleepless as ever, spotted the group, he laid quiet and still. His peace would finally come to him…Finally…Finally…

But Dedue, ever vigilant, had figured it out. Had burst into the room and fought off every one of them, even as they all stabbed wildly. One of them got a lucky shot, a blade slicing at the right spot on his neck. Dedue collapsed gracelessly, motionless in seconds. The sole survivor of the assassin group had turned to Dimitri to quickly finish the job.

A minute later, guards alerted to the sound of chaos entered Dimitri’s room to a grisly sight. Dedue, the prince’s retainer, lying in a pool of blood. Bodies of assassins scattered around the room among broken furniture. And Dimitri himself, screaming wildly, stabbing the broken leg of a table into the unmoving body of an assassin over and over and over…

It was only Felix’s diligence that kept Dimitri from following Dedue to the grave in the weeks to follow.

~~~~~~~

Felix…Combative and rude…Always ready to challenge him, to yell at him…Always by his side, for years and years…His most cherished childhood friend…

The bastard deserved it.

Felix effectively moved into the castle following Dedue’s death. Which suited Dimitri just fine. The prince started training again and he could use a skilled sparring partner like Felix. He would never be caught off guard again. He wouldn’t let another be forced to make up for his uselessness again. He. Would. Protect. Others.

But no, Felix suddenly decided that sparring was too good for him. As if that didn’t make up so much of their friendship. From the time they were young, pretending sticks were swords and boulders were fortresses. Felix now decided that talking was all he wanted. Talking about the others, about Dimitri, about the unrest among the Faerghus nobility, about the unanswered messages from Edelgard, Claude, and even Professor Byleth.

He didn’t want to talk. He needed to train! He had become used to the eyepatch at long last.

He needed to sleep, to eat, Felix would respond. To cut that mop of hair of his.

That would come later. He needed to become stronger.

Physically, he was plenty strong, Felix said. Mentally though…Emotionally…

Since when did that matter though? It’s strength on the battlefield that brings in results in the end. Shouldn’t Felix understand that? Dimitri thought they were supposed to be best friends.

But Felix said they were best friends, and that’s precisely why he was tired of Dimitri’s crap. The Dimitri of now, Felix said, was on the verge of shattering, of breaking beyond repair. Felix wanted to do all he could to stop that. Sparring, as much as he loved it, wouldn’t do anything for Dimitri. Not if his heart and mind weren’t there.

Dimitri scoffed and left him at that moment. How dare that asshole…Since when was Felix so sentimental? Did he think he was better than Dimitri? Is that why he was trying to act all mature now? Why doesn’t he leave that kind of garbage to someone like Dedue-?

…He wondered how much longer things would last…

A week later, he learned of a nasty skirmish between the kingdom’s soldiers and some mages. Adrestian mages…? And there were some skilled archers there too. From…Leicester…perhaps…? Whatever, they were there, and his soldiers needed help. But Dimitri was running on nothing. On two hours of sleep in a week and five meals in just as much time. And after…that battle…he wouldn’t, couldn’t go to battle like he is again. But they needed support, so he ordered more soldiers on their way. But they could use more skilled help.

Felix said he’d go. Dimitri snapped.

“They need help. They need leadership, and you’re in no state to go there, so I’m the next best thing. It’s an emergency, so quit your griping, you damn boar!”

“You could never lead to save your damn life! …Please, please, please…I’ll talk, is that what you want? Whatever you want, whenever you want. I’ll stop training, I’ll talk, I’ll eat, sleep, I’ll…I swear, I’ll-”

“Breathe, Dimitri…Okay, fine…Let’s go to your room then…”

Damn bastard…He always turned into a filthy liar whenever he was stubborn about something. The second they entered the room, a splitting pain hit the back of his head and he passed out. He woke hours later in the medical wing, the doctors explaining he’d taken a blow to the head but that he’d recover just fine.

…Faerghus won the battle…He was taken to the field, which had been in chaos while he was out cold. Bodies of his land’s soldiers and the enemy lay everywhere.

…Felix had been a demon on the battlefield. His skills were what saved the day, grateful soldier after grateful soldier told Dimitri. But that damn man…magic was always his weakness…Being grazed by a Thoron spell could paralyze most people…Being struck dead-on by one though…

The soldiers walked away as Dimitri stared at Felix’s burned, still body…Surrounded by fallen soldiers, his prized sword broken in two beside him.

Nearby soldiers flinched and turned in shock when Dimitri let out a practically primal yell and threw himself at Felix’s body, punching it over and over again. The men scrambled to him and grabbed the wild prince, tearing him away, struggling as the man desperately reached out at Felix, fingers clawing in the direction of the fallen man. They didn’t understand…Wasn’t Felix their prince’s childhood friend? He was a savior. How could the prince treat a fallen friend’s body like this?

But Dimitri no longer cared. Animalistic screams tore out of his throat, tears cascaded down his face. Damn Felix! Damn that lying ass! Damn him, damn him, damn him!

He would never forgive him.

~~~~~~~

“We are the future of Faerghus, the knights who will lead the kingdom.”

No one left…No one but him…Worthless, useless him…

“I…I may be your prince, but please remember I’m also your friend. You can speak to me about whatever you wish!”

He should’ve taken a page from Edelgard’s book, remained aloof and aware. Or perhaps be more like Claude, always on guard, hiding behind a pleasant smile. He wouldn’t be suffering like this then…

“Remember to get along with the students from Adrestia and Leicester. It’s important that we maintain strong bonds between our lands, so war will never curse us again.”

The reports were coming in. The Adrestian Empire…The Leicester Alliance…There was something brewing under the surface…And the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus itself…The nobility was furious, the commoners uneasy…Fragile peace would shatter soon. Fodlan was going to die.

“I swear I will do my utmost to lead Faerghus. And I will be relying on you all as well. We are a team; it is our honor to work together for the sake of those who needs us!”

Who was left for him to lead…? Who still needed him now…?

“It is the duty of those in power to protect the weak, the ones who don’t have the strength to fight for themselves!”

To protect…the weak…Yes, the weak. The weak who were constantly being abused by the strong. By Adrestia’s military might…By Leicester’s unparalleled spy network…By Faerghus’ selfish nobles, who would throw the innocent to the wolves for their own needs…

“The Blue Lions are honor bound to defend the innocent, for Fodlan’s future.”

For…the ones who can’t fight back…Who can no longer fight back, no matter how much he dreams of it. No matter how often the wonderful, painful memories plague his mind.

“We must do whatever we can! But remember, we are knights. We won’t shame our homeland by acting without reason, without chivalry.”

Even if he had to raze Adrestia and Leicester to the ground…Even if he had to bring ruin to Faerghus itself…

“We can help Fodlan grow stronger and more united.”

Fodlan could rebuild…They must start again, from zero.

“I’m depending on you all. The eight of us are strong together. There’s nothing we can’t accomplish.”

…Felix, Dedue, Ingrid, Mercedes, Ashe, Sylvain, Annette…

“We’re counting on you, Leader!”

And he would never fail them again.