#Finally free from my shackles. maybe /silly

[zackcharine]

Grrrrr getting really anxious bc. not leaving my house in the last two days was enough to make me scared of going outside again apparently

[luciftixs]

the yi sangela post

I’m having autistic zoomies right now

I want to talk about Yi Sang and Angela because I like them both A Lot and I just think it’s fun to do comparisons. My partner made this lovely checklist with a few similarities I jotted down in a notesapp on my phone before I passed out and I will be cooking a meal thats geared solely to me but ur welcome to try and eat it if u want

Let’s get into it. There is no structure here but maybe we will find it as we go along!

I wanna start w a disclaimer that this is FOR FUN its not actually that serious and ALSO its obviously not a 1-to-1 comparison because these two are also so starkly different in not only their circumstances but also their overall personality when it comes to having deal with said Issues. I feel like tumblr users are more chill these days but after some shit ive seen on projmoon twitter I am covering my bases this is just a Post by a Stranger Online LOL

Let’s take a look at our first point on this silly little chart. That point is:

Bird

Angela’s black dress heavily resembles the feathers of a bird; specifically that of a corvid like a raven or even crow.

Even her head librarian outfit has some bird motifs to it. I’m going to get into corvid symbolism in a second but first

Yi Sang also leans heavily into the bird motifs. His base EGO is named Crow’s Eye View after a poem by the RL Yi Sang, and the narrative draws some inspo from the short story The Wings by the same author.

Wings show up often in some of his EGOS and CGs

Now, it’s not simply generic birds either of them are inspired by; Angela’s black feathers, Yi Sang’s EGO title, they are specifically invoking corvids. Corvidae include many different species of birds, such as magpies and jays, but the most commonly thought of corvids would be the ones with black feathers; ravens and crows. Corvids are incredibly intelligent birds, and they are rich in symbolism and meaning.

Specifically, crows have a heavy association with death and the afterlife. Both Angela and Yi Sang are impacted by heavy losses; Angela is made from a woman who took her own life and is forced to oversee countless loops of people suffering and dying; Yi Sang witnessed his friends being driven apart in a violent manner. His two childhood friends die before him, he wishes he could kill himself and die, and is trapped in a purgatory state with his current coworkers where bloodshed is as common as breathing. Death has marked both of them.

But! That is not the only thing corvids symbolize! In more modern times the birds are said to also symbolize transformation. In a way, that ties into death, as what is death if not the final transformation in life? But neither of their final growths end in their deaths; rather, both learn to find a way to free themselves from the shackles of their past, and to push forward.

THEN WE HAVE

Book as weapon

This one is just silly.

*beats you to death with a book beats you to death with a book beats you to death with a book*

Next point

Narrative haunted by a female figure

This one is in that “not a one-to-one comparison” territory, but it’s still just fun to poke at imo. In Angela’s case, she can never truly escape Carmen’s influence over her. For Yi Sang, Dongbaek is a ghost from his past. Both these women are integral to the overall narrative at hand.

Not only do these women haunt the narrative, but they also mirror the person they haunt. Angela’s desire for life is so strong because, in the end, Carmen wished to live. Dongbaek admired Yi Sang and his dream of flying. She yearned to bloom in a way not dissimilar to a bird spreading it’s wings for the first time. Angela’s Lobcorp design invokes Carmen- her hair color is Carmen’s inverted. She wears the hair time Carmen wore. Dongbaek’s hair has become white from the trauma- the inverse of Yi Sang’s black hair. Yi Sang takes up a Dongbaek identity in a mirror world to further drive home the similarities. These women play a major role in the overall identity of these two characters.

And this is just my brain going “hehe neat” but Carmen’s whole like. Brain stem mimicking a tree and its roots. Dongbaek becoming flowers. Visually very similar vibes.

Onto the next point

Loomed over and controlled by a male figure

This one probably seems second most self explanatory. Ayin meet Gubo Gubo meet Ayin ect.

The deal is simple: you do what we want you to do, and we have employed dubious methods to ensure that you do what we want you to do! Both Ayin and Gubo are self serving when it comes to the end goals. The levels of agency at play here are different; Angela truly had no choice, but Yi Sang’s mental state is not Great and that is being capitalized on him to help perpetuate his isolation and dependency.

Another thing: Ayin and Gubo are just really fucking mean to Angela and Yi Sang. Ayin actively dehumanizes her and neglects her; Gubo verbally and mentally abuses Yi Sang. Fun stuff.

Now, the penultimate point:

Yearning for freedom

This naturally comes with the territory of being a bird. Angela longs to not be confined to a place (Lobcorp or the Library). She wants to experience the world and be free. Yi Sang is similar; that desire to spread his wings and fly. For both to accomplish this, they have a talk with the ‘self’. It’s only by confronting their pasts, and themselves, that they can finally get that push to live life on their own terms.

MY FINAL TALKING POINT

SEXY

Like wow hot a what? And yes I chose fourth match flame because it ties into the whole post like they’re sharing an EGO that’s basically having your hopes burnt to a cinder and also an intense longing for a better life whoa thats crazy

Concluding thoughts

I just like them both a lot. My little caged birds getting out of the cage and mending their broken wings in order to take flight. Very kino. I love them.

If u actually read this thanks ur pog

[justafrogandherumbrella]

Welcome to Nowhere: Contracts?

The room goes completely silent. You stare at Bianca, completely in shock, What did she just say?  All around you, people hold their breath, waiting for Bianca to elaborate- but she just stands there, hands on her hips, waiting for a response. 

“Bianca?” Jenny- the cloud girl- whispers cautiously, looking just as shocked as you are. “What do you-” she stops, closing her mouth as Bianca raises a single finger up at her, without even turning around to look. Hush.  

You turn, looking at all the different faces. Emerson’s face has gone from flushed to horrified in  a matter of seconds. WHile you don’t think he likes Mr.Rotary very much, you’re pretty sure he dislikes the idea of killing someone way more. 

Meanwhile, Bianca’s friends look… well, less horrified, you suppose. However, they do look equally shocked.  The rabbit girl- Caitlin, is watching the ordeal anxiously, while Jenny keeps looking as though she wants to speak, but won’t. One thing’s for sure though, they all look a little… fearful? Is that the word? They all look a little fearful of Bianca? Hmmn, maybe? At the very least, they were all wary  of her right now.  

And you are too. Did she really just  say she wants you to murder her father? Mr.Rotary? Or- well, she could be talking about Mayor Miller, you guess; although, you think that’s far less likely. Either way though, she wants you to kill someone? 

Adeyn, however, doesn’t appear particularly wary- or even surprised. No, her face is completely blank as she and Bianca stare at each other. At most, she looks mildly confused at the request. She, too, watches Bianca in silence. WHen it’s clear that the tv-girl had no intentions of elaborating, she finally opens her mouth to speak. 

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Bianca says cooly, picking at her nails as if the conversation bores her. “I- I want you to…” There’s something off about how she’s speaking now. It’s as if she’s trying to hold back tears… or laughter?

“To- ah, kill my-” She bursts out in a fit of giggles. 

Ah, so it’s laughter then.

“Oooooh, oh my god,” she says breathlessly, trying to hold back her convulsions. “I can’t keep this up any longer, can I?” She bends over, bracing her arms against her knees as she wipes an imaginary tear from her imaginary eye. “I was just kidding guys! C’mon, did ya’ really think I would ask you to commit murder? You guys are so silly…” 

The room stays silent for another minute before Bianca’s friends start to laugh awkwardly. They look relieved, but also still nervous at the same time. 

That nervousness combined with  their reactions earlier makes you uneasy. These were Bianca’s friends, right? They were pretty close- or at least, they probably were. So that begs the question: why did they not realize her request was a joke? Why had they taken her seriously? And most importantly: why are they still wary now? It’s like… it’s the kind of thing she would actually request. It’s as if it wasn’t really a joke- not entirely. 

Or maybe you’re just reading too much into things. 

Aderyn, too, joins in with everyone else on the awkward laughter. 

“Haha… yeah… what?”

“I was just joking.” Bianca explains, finally freeing herself from the shackles of her own laughter. “I don’t want you to kill anyone… unless?” She laughs again. “No, seriously though- I’m just kidding. Please don’t kill anyone.” 

“Riiiight,” Aderyn says, looking very… weirded out, to say the least. “So, were you joking about being able to help us too or…”

“Oh, no, no, no,” Bianca says hurriedly, regaining her usual, sophisticated demeanor. “I was being serious like that- and I will need something in return.”

“Uhm-” Emerson intejects, still looking rather worrisome. “It’s not anything concerning… is it?”

She shrugged. “Depends on what you find concerning or not. Here, I’ll explain for you.” She takes a deep breath, turning to face the rest of the group. “Rue, Emerson, Aderyn, and your friend- the one with the planet head- you can do more than just kill monsters, right?”

“Uhm- probab-”

“Hold on, I’m not done,” Bianca says, hushing you. “Lemme explain- so, basically, this town wasn’t always like this. Hell, my dad- Mr.Rotary, wasn’t always like this. But that doesn’t matter,” she explains.  “What matters is how he is now, and what he’s done to change my town into the miserable shithole it is today.” She nods to her group of friends. “My friends and I have consistently failed and ditched class over and over to keep ourselves from graduating, just so we aren’t forced into working for my dad’s weird company- no one even knows what it does!” She’s raising her voice now, clearly becoming more fired up.  “Doesn’t that say something about what’s happened here? Everyone has to work in the same building, doing the same job, and yet know one actually knows what their job is! You can attest to that, right Rue?”

“Oh- uhm, yes.” You say, realizing her question wasn’t rhetorical. 

“Exactly. What I want in return for my help- is yours. I want you to help me figure out what went wrong here, and how I can fix it. So, we’d both be helping each other investigate.” She exhales, calming down a little. “Which I’m pretty sure both our goals start with investigating my asshole of a father.” 

She turns looking at you. “So, Rue, do we have a deal?”

Oh, she’s asking you. That’s strange. For some reason, you feel like you’ve never been one to take on the decision-making role. You kind of like it actually. 

“Yes.”

[solomonish]

Proxemics (TWST - Ace/Reader)

@makialene suggested: Only if you have a minute (and want to of course, I know you’re busy with the February writing challenge!), but I love how you write Ace, do you think you could do something for what may have happened if we had said yes when he asked to share the bed with us the first night he stayed over? In canon we kick him to the couch but I’m a sucker for the “only one bed” trope

lol i only meant for this to be like a 500 word ficlet but here i am with 3.3k .......i also like the bed sharing trope ig!! i know this request was from the beginning of february so hopefully the length makes it worth the wait hehe and! don't forget to check this out on ao3! (it was fic length so of course i'm posting it there)

feel free to leave a suggestion~

Throughout your (admittedly short) time in Twisted Wonderland, you began to learn that, sometimes, the best answer to give people was no answer at all. This wasn’t because you feared the repercussions of your words - no, most of the people you met were so harmless despite their best attempts to appear tough it was almost silly. No, you learned not to answer because of how goofy these people could be. Most often, the most appropriate response was a flat expression. Somebody needed to be a voice of reason in these people’s lives, because you were beginning to think none of them ever had one prior to you.

Grim seemed to have the same idea, staring at Ace with an amused expression, paws on his hips. The both of you passed a flickering glance towards the other, a silent ‘can you believe this guy? No, I can't either,’ before Grim finally spoke up.

“So, the point is you’re both terrible?”

Ace visibly recoiled, the faux woe-is-me expression from his tale of the stolen tart leaving his face immediately. The indignation that replaced it was worse on your dwindling patience. “You don’t think that it’s insane for my magic to get sealed away for eating ONE slice of tart?! For a mage, that’s like having your arms and legs bound and shackled! And there were three tarts! It’s not like he could eat them all himself. Come on, you KNOW this is messed up!”

Your eyes drifted to the collar. He couldn’t have chosen a comparison that was more on-the-nose. Heaving a heavy sigh, you removed your hands from your hips and instead grabbed your chin thoughtfully. Though you and Ace had a rather short friendship, he was pretty open and you felt as if you had a good grasp on his personality already. Of course, he was a natural troublemaker - although, perhaps in Crowley’s eyes, so were you. Ace’s impulsiveness was a tad endearing, but he wasn’t quite sly enough to escape the consequences that always came. Part of you wondered if he was purposely testing the limits so he could figure out how to make his clean escape every time.

Still, despite knowing how he attracted trouble, you knew his Housewarden’s punishment was extreme. Besides, was there really a reason to make an example out of Ace when he was the only one who’d dare eat food that wasn’t his? The longer you thought about it, the more excuses you could come up with.

Finally, you nodded your agreement. “It does seem a tad extreme.”

“Riiiight?!”

“Yeah, but…if there were three tarts, they were probably for a party. Maybe it was someone’s birthday or somethin’?” Grim reasoned, jumping from the floor to the coffee table so he could be a bit more on your level. With a proud grin, he immediately began preening himself. “Lookit that! I’m, like, a master detective too!”

“A birthday party, huh…”

“Did you even apologize?” You asked. Ace stuck out his tongue, and that was answer enough.

“Man…I thought you’d be more sympathetic. I’m a victim of tyranny here!”

You nodded noncommittally. “He may have been a tad extreme…”

It was Grim’s turn to be offended. Was there any winning for you in this world? “But you stole food! That ain’t cool!”

You agreed with Grim, one hundred percent. Even if you were in a separate world, you were pretty sure moral codes were more or less the same, just that those around you didn’t seem to care much for them. But still, basic roommate etiquette had to be a thing, right? Ace didn’t seem like he wouldn’t know one of the cardinal rules of sharing a living space - did he not have family members, ever?

However, Ace was your friend now. Even if you had gotten off to a rough start - one that might have only been 48 hours ago, or maybe 48 weeks ago, the chaos was making it hard to tell - it was clear now that he was a pest but still a ride-or-die. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t warm up quickly to him. Besides, if this world was as villainous as you suspected it was, you didn’t want to chase away one of your only allies in the whole place.

“If you apologize, I’m sure he’ll forgive you,” You offered. Neither of them look particularly convinced.

“You don’t go messin’ with another man’s meal…” Grim muttered. Then he perked up, his tail and flaming ears all on high alert. “Hey, wait a minute! I just realized I never got those cans of tuna the headmage promised me!”

After a few moments of your steady glare, Ace finally conceded. “All right, all right. Fine. I get that I should apologize. But you’re coming with me. This was your idea after all.”

If there was one thing in this world you had the advantage in, it would be general manners for sure. “Oh, I’ve got this. Don’t worry.”

Matching your confident grin, Ace gave you a thumbs up before scratching the back of his head. “Anyway…you got a place for me to crash tonight?”

Oh. In the insanity of his most recent adventure, you had entirely forgotten about his original predicament. Grim did too, if his yelp was any indication of his emotions. “You were serious about that? Outside of the bedroom me and Yuu use, this entire dump is buried under a foot of dust. So if you wanna crash, you better start cleanin’!”

“Dude, no way! I hate cleaning!”

“I don’t think many people like cleaning…” You added softly. That was a mistake, because Ace’s attention was immediately focused on you.

“Just let me stay with you!”

“What?!?” Your voice involuntarily cracked. Clearing your throat, your eyes darted around the room. Grim looked displeased with Ace’s audacity, though the entire conversation seemed to just frustrate him. Your eyes wandered behind him, to the ancient, dusty couch, and the spot where you thought you could see the shadow of a spring poking out. “You mean, like, in my bed…?”

“I’m real slim. I won’t take up any space!” For emphasis, Ace put one hand over his heart and the other up in the air like a scout taking a pledge. Your gaze flickered between him, Grim, and the couch, each person (or object, or…cat?) giving you a different answer. Though you thought a million different worries would be racing through your head, you were only lingering on one single thought: why not take a page from Crowley’s book?

The headmage only harped others on his generosity to toot his own horn, but you did feel incredibly lucky to be given shelter in your time of need. Why not pay the good deed forward? Besides, you were growing weary of this conversation and being awake in general. Dealing with Ace’s complaints was the last thing you wanted to do. Besides, it wasn’t like you’d never slept in the same bed as a friend before. Where was the harm?

“Okay.”

Both Grim and Ace widened their eyes. “R-really?!”

You shrugged. “The bed’s big, Grim. And there is…a lot of dust in here. We’d be just as cruel as Riddle if we made him sleep on the couch when it’s in such sorry shape.”

A draft brushed over you, and you shivered. The ghosts would surely have something to say about you insulting their furniture. Grim was displeased too, muttering under his breath but still making his way to bed, clearing throwing in the towel. Ace took another second to snap out of his surprise, but, once he recovered, gave you a more genuine smile. If you looked closely, you would have realized he was almost flustered.

“Thanks.”

Yawning, you gestured for him to follow you up the stairs. They groaned loudly beneath your feet, but you were beginning to understand the difference between weak wood and loud wood. “It’s no big deal. Do you have nightclothes? I think I have an extra set lying around…no guarantee they’ll fit though.”

“Nah. I came prepared.” You looked back and eyed the small bag you hadn’t noticed before.

“Confident in your persuasion skills, are you?”

“Maybe I just find you particularly dependable.” The two of you chuckled as you walked into the bedroom. Sleepily, you instructed him to change in the bathroom and quickly changed your own clothes. When you were done and sat on the bed, you absently ran a hand over Grim’s back. He was already asleep, and didn’t even stir at your hand running over him. You should’ve asked if he was alright with sharing the bed - with how often he wound up curling at your feet, it was basically his space, too. He didn’t seem too bothered with the idea, though, if he was already sleeping - and as an uninvited guest himself, he didn’t really have much room to complain.

It wasn’t until Ace walked back in the room after a quiet knock that you began to feel nervous. To avoid his gaze, you pretended to set an alarm on the clock (that miraculously still worked and was accurate - the ghosts again? Magic?) Ace rounded to the other side of the bed, and you could feel his hesitance in the slow movements he took to lift the blankets. Unable to stall anymore, you followed his movements, making sure to keep plenty of space between you and him.

“Well, you know where the bathroom and the kitchen are. Good night.”

“Uh, yeah. Night.”

Silence quickly filled the room, and you had to fight not to focus entirely on the body a foot away from you.

—

Maybe the couch would have been better.

Ace never spent much time sleeping in such close proximity to somebody. Any time he spent a night at a friend’s, they usually had a makeshift bed for him already. He never even had to share a room, let alone a bed. There were inherent boundaries he could figure out for sure, but knowing that there was another person behind him but not knowing how much wiggle room he had was a different type of stress he wasn’t prepared for. Not to mention, it had only been about ten minutes since they settled in for the night. There was no way the prefect was asleep so he could test the waters a little, yet his shoulder was already starting to protest the way he was laying.

Uncomfortable position aside, Ace was pretty sure the prefect only agreed to let him in the bed because their couch had visible springs coming out of the cushions and a thick layer of dust. The dust was hardly any better here - what wasn’t on the bed was in the air instead, already making his nose uncomfortably stuffy. No wonder the prefect was always so sniffly in the morning. There was also a spring getting ready to push through the fabric of the mattress, just beneath his ribcage and digging into him. If he had been on the couch, he could have sprawled out however he wanted to avoid it! But, instead, he was stuck in a bed with someone, terrified to move.

Ace wasn’t sure exactly why he was so afraid. The prefect was cool, and would easily brush off an accidental bump in the night. But while he was changing in the bathroom, Ace reminded himself to knock before entering the bedroom and suddenly got a pit in his stomach. He couldn’t for the life of him figure out what had his guts tied up in knots - or, he could, but he chose to ignore it lest it get worse and become another hurdle for him to jump before falling asleep.

Sleep. By the seven, he wished he could just fall asleep. If he were unconscious, he wouldn’t have to deal with so many stupid thoughts!

His side began to tingle, growing numb from the acute pressure the loose spring was putting on him. That was the final straw. Ace had to move, lest his entire right side go numb before he even got an hour of sleep.

Tentatively, Ace shifted closer to the center of the bed. He was surprised by how much ground he was able to make, pushing the boundary to see how comfortable he could get. Of course, he quickly overshot the available space, stopping cold at MC’s sleeve barely grazing his own arm. Quicker than intended, Ace forced himself to the very edge of the bed, gripping the edge of the mattress to prevent himself from following. The bed moved with him, and he squeezed his eyes shut, hoping desperately the prefect wouldn’t ask him what he was doing. Seconds passed, agonizingly long, before he slowly relaxed. They were letting him get away with it. He could work with that.

Hanging on to the very edge of the mattress wasn’t ideal, but at least the spring was no longer making his body numb. Ace could sit like this for a while, at least until the prefect fell asleep and he’d feel more comfortable moving around. Goodness, he knew he wouldn’t take up much space, so why was he suddenly so wary about where he was laying? He should just sprawl out and show the prefect who’s boss, since they were so harsh on him after he told his story.

But then they might think he was a creep, or worse, a rude bum, and that weirdly stung.

So Ace stood still, barely breathing as deeply as usual to avoid shaking the bed any more than he already had. For a moment, he debated listening in to see when the prefect fell asleep, but that immediately felt invasive and he scrapped the thought. Maybe he could fall asleep like this? He could hardly be held accountable for how close he got trying to get comfortable in his sleep, right?

Ace battled with himself for a while, feeling pathetic all the time. He was caught between cursing himself for placing himself so willingly in an awkward situation, and cursing himself for making a situation awkward that didn’t need to be. But, at the end of the day, he knew he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep like this. If it wasn’t the fear of falling off the bed that kept him awake, it was his thoughts running a mile a minute. Ace stayed stuck to the edge of the bed for what felt like forever. The prefect was asleep by now, right?

He had to sneak a peek. He had to. If the prefect was still awake, he’d just say he had to…go to the bathroom! Or, better yet, he’d excuse himself for a drink from the kitchen, only to dash out of the house like a madman and grovel at Riddle’s feet for forgiveness. Then, when the prefect accused him of running away in the middle of the night, he could accuse them of having vivid dreams about him and fluster them so badly, they wouldn’t pursue the train of thought any longer.

Bracing himself, Ace pushed himself up with his forearms and dared a glance behind his shoulder.

Almost immediately, he sighed in relief. The prefect was asleep, having shuffled a little closer to the middle of the bed in their sleep. At their feet, Grim was curled up peacefully, the fire in his ears flaring lazily and a little dimmer than usual. Carefully, making absolutely sure he didn’t wake anybody up, Ace shuffled himself a little more inward and carefully lowered himself on his back. The spring was no longer digging into him, and like this, the bed was almost comfortable. At the very least, he wasn’t curled in a horrible position trying to avoid something jabbing into his side.

However, there was one small hitch in his plans. He could feel the prefect next to him, not quite touching but definitely warm and solid beside him.

Gulping, Ace folded his hands over his stomach and stared at the ceiling, trying to calm his thoughts once more. It was fine! Nothing was happening! Just a couple of pals sharing a bed in a pinch. Nothing was weird about it unless he made it weird. And if it was weird, the prefect readily agreed, so he had some ammunition on his side! He just needed to calm down and fall asleep. Nothing would happen if he could just sleep.

—

Ace did manage to fall asleep soon after finally settling down. Still, when he awoke to somebody pounding on the door, he couldn’t fight the feeling that a few more hours would have been nice.

Blinking, Ace eyes the streams of sunlight with vitriol, as if each dust particle swirling around had personally offended him. After a moment, he realized that neither Grim nor the prefect were stirring. He wondered if he could just ignore the door, but their guest seemed awfully persistent. Groaning, Ace threw an arm over his eyes, wanting just a few minutes more to rest. Even if the bed was old and had a spring that wanted his blood, he felt surprisingly warm.

His mind took a few more seconds to catch up with his situation. Oh, how harsh reality tended to be.

The prefect had turned towards him in their sleep. That would have been fine, if they hadn’t also taken to leaning their head on his shoulder. Because of the bulky collar, they had to position themselves at a lopsided angle, practically nuzzling into his shoulder. If he wasn’t warm from the blanket and morning sun, the flustered blush heating his face and turning it red as his favorite pie was sure doing the trick.

Without thinking, Ace pushed himself out of the bed, unable to spare a second to prevent the prefect from waking up. Before anybody could ask any questions, he bolted out of the bedroom, his heavy footsteps loud as thunder with the brunt of his weight and the groaning wood. The stairs were worse, but he ignored them, practically jumping off the last few. When he opened the door, he was out of breath and still trying to bring the blood down from his face. Deuce stood outside, fist raised to continue his incessant pounding on the door and an eyebrow raised. Ace hated how different they looked, with Deuce neatly in his school uniform and himself still in rumpled bedclothes.

“I thought you might- why are you so out of breath?” Deuce asked. He peered into the house, perhaps wondering if the dust was strangling Ace. Without knowing how to respond, Ace opened and closed his mouth a few times before deciding silence was best. Unfortunately, Deuce had a rare intelligent moment and connected the dots Ace wanted to keep far apart. “You didn’t-”

Immediately, Deuce narrowed his eyes. A shiver ran down Ace’s spine - since when could little Deucy be so scary? “Woah, Deuce, let me explain- ack!”

—

You were awoken by a sudden force against your stomach, knocking the wind out of you. Somebody - Ace, you remembered belatedly - ran to the door, which seemed to be losing a battle between it and somebody’s fist. A minute later, your alarm went off, and you groaned. It wasn’t an ideal start to the morning, but you had worse before.

Then Ace started screaming, and you realized Deuce was in the house. Okay, maybe this was going to be a rough morning.

You pulled yourself out of bed and trudged to the top of the stairs, hoping to separate the two before they broke your house even more than it already was. However, both boys stopped fighting and stared at you the moment the steps creaked beneath your feet. Something about their bewildered expressions stopped you from speaking. You watched Deuce’s eyes flicker between you and Ace.

“What, is it my beadhead?” You asked through a yawn. “I know it’s a lot, but it isn’t…oh.”

Realization hit you like a truck. Ace sunk to his knees, probably wishing he could sink into the floor and never return (a sentiment you shared the longer Deuce stared at the two of you, seemingly deciding whether to beat up Ace or lecture you first). This morning was turning out to be the roughest in a while, and you’ve only been up for five minutes!

Ace was definitely sleeping on the couch next time.

[jann-the-bean]

Fluffynightkiller

Day 1: There’s a first time for everything

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•

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“Hi welcome to-“ The barista gaped as a violet eyed skeleton entered his coffee shop. He was entranced by how elegant the skeleton maneuvered himself inside the shop. There was something familiar about this violet skeleton, but the barista couldn’t quite place his finger on it.

The other’s posture was tall, straight, and proud. Not a single limb out of place, no wasted energy in unnecessary actions. His eyes slightly narrowed, refusing to make eye contact with others. At first glance many may view him as arrogant, but not to Ccino. He noticed the slight clenching of his fist and his once graceful strides became rigid with every step he took. As if expecting someone to lash out and attack.

The proud skeleton sat at a table distanced from the rest. From his mannerisms it was obvious he disliked socializing with others. Even when sitting he didn’t slouch, his back remained upright, and his hands delicately placed on the table. How peculiar.. Ccino only ever recalled seeing just one other being who sat in a similar position. It was-

*Ding*

Ccino was pulled from his thoughts upon hearing the door open once more. This time a skeleton with no eyelights appeared. He wore a blue fluffed hoodie, with a strange black stain, and white shorts with a black strips on the sides. One of his sockets was half closed while the other fully open. He had a smile on his face which grew to a smirk upon laying eyes on the violet eyed skeleton. But his most notable feature was a bright red soul that was displayed for the world to see. Ccino hadn’t realized he was staring, he only noticed when the other raised a brow in amusement. He placed his hands in the pockets of his hoodie before making his way to Ccino’s direction. The barista gulped, unsure if he’d somehow offended the eyeless skeleton.

“Heya sweetheart, mind preparing us a couple of drinks?” The eyeless skeleton smiled as he placed his elbow on the table while resting his head in his hand.

“O-of course! What w-would you like?” The other responded trying his hardest to stay calm. His soul pounding violently against his chest as his nerves threatened to overtake him.

“I’d like an mochaccino with an extra shot of espresso” he turned to face the violet skeleton. “What do you want, boss?”

“Just get me a black coffee.” Ccino tensed for a brief second. That voice... it sounded way to familiar. As quick as the thought entered his head, Ccino was just as quick to dismiss it. He was working, he didn’t have time to think about non-work related things right now. However, the violet skeleton made eye contact with Ccino. In that brief moment, his stern features wavered for a fragment of a second, that the barista questioned if he imagined it.

The skeleton on the countertop chuckled and turned to face Ccino once more. “Alright, there you have it. One mochaccino with an extra shot of expresso and one black coffee.” The barista nodded and rang up his total. Ccino had told the skeleton he was more than welcome to sit and wait, but the other refused stating that “The view is better from here.” A wave of heat rose to his cheeks. He couldn’t tell if this skeleton was flirting with him, but it sure felt like it. The problem is... he was quite attractive... and charming too. Curse his amorous heart and falling for those who would never return his feelings. Especially for a certain black goopy skeleton.

At some point when Ccino was preparing the drinks the eyeless skeleton had to step out for a minute. The barista had forgotten to ask for a name to call out once the order was ready. He opted to just take the drinks to the violet skeleton’s table. It would probably be better than yelling across the shop trying to get his attention.

“Uhm... I’m sorry. I forgot to ask for a name, but here are your drinks.” Ccino gently set the drinks on the table and carefully ensured not to spill the hot beverages. “C-careful.. it’s really hot.”

Being in such close proximity Ccino noticed a few things he hadn’t before. It appeared that this violet eyed skeleton only had a single functioning eyelight. The other socket was a pitch black, with various cracks surrounding it. Actually, his hands and several visible bones appeared to be fractured. What could’ve happened to such a beautiful skeleton to have so many injuries throughout his body? It wasn’t a question he dared ask. It had to be something personal, and frankly none of Ccino’s business or concern. The violet skeleton nodded to Ccino’s warning but didn’t say a word.

The day passed like any other. Uneventful, and yet again the goopy skeleton had failed to visit. How long had it been since their last reunion? Months? Perhaps even years by now? He knew that Nightmare had used him. He was evil, a manipulator, ruthless, and unforgiving. But, he wasn’t a liar. From their very first encounter he was honest about the basis of their relationship. Ccino was good source to replenish his negativity, and in turn he wouldn’t harm him or his au. At least not in any physical way. The barista new he was being used, knew that the other didn’t see him as anything else but as a charging port. And yet, his silly little heart grew fond of the other’s presence. Perhaps it was because Nightmare was the first person he spent continuous time with. He became illusioned that for as long as he was alive he would have a companion of sorts.

Yet, one day he stopped showing. Sure Nightmare had the tendency to go weeks or months without visiting. However, this time it had been longer than usual. Ccino waited and waited until he slowly began losing hope. Perhaps, the other found a more suitable companion? Maybe realized the Ccino wasn’t worth being around? Decided it was no longer worth his effort to visit his pathetic AU just to see him? Tears burned the lining of his sockets. He shook his head and wiped his eyes. No, now isn’t the time for this. He still had to close up his shop- Ccino paused. Wait, those two why are they still here? He was referring to the eyeless and violet skeleton of course.

Strange, well they were newcomers and most likely didn’t know the shop hours. The barista removed his apron and gently placed it on the countertop, before making his way towards the two strange skeletons. “E-Excuse me.. I’m so glad you decided to support my shop today. But, uhm, it’s time for me to close for the day. You’re more than welcome to come back again tomorrow. I-If you’d like to of course.”

The two didn’t answer. It appeared as if they were contemplating what their response should be. A sinking feeling began to form in Ccino’s non-existent stomach. Were they going to rob him? He didn’t have much to offer just the money in the register! He could defend himself if needed but- he was outnumbered. Maybe he could manage to escape and call for help-

“Actually, we were hoping to talk to you in private.” The eyeless skeleton stated, his soul wavering for a brief second before shifting to an upside down heart. It was so beautiful and captivating. That Ccino had to resist the urge to be lost in its marvelous glow.

“P-pardon? You w-want to talk to me? About what exactly?” The barista was rather confused. He’d never seen these two in his entire life! How did they know about him? Were they maybe some of those ‘special’ people that Nightmare talked about? How they could travel to different universes? But what would they want with him?

“Well, being honest he,” the eyeless skeleton pointed to his companion. “Was hoping to have a conversation with you.”

The skeleton in mention tensed and averted his gaze from Ccino’s. It was clearer now that he was up close. The violet skeleton exhibited signs of slight anguish and remorse in his delicate facial features. But they were quickly concealed once again. No sign of pain, guilt, anxiety, or any other emotion were visible in the single eyelight.

The violet skeleton sighed before returning Ccino’s gaze. “Ccino.. it’s been a while hasn’t it? How have you been these past months.. perhaps even a year or years now? Hard to keep track of time in the void” The barista froze upon hearing his name slip past the violet skeletons mouth. How did he know his name? Did he introduce himself earlier? No, he didn’t think so... maybe his apron? No. He took that off. Then.... how? “You appear to be surprised. Well.. that is to be expected I suppose. How would you ever recognize me without my black attire.”

Ccino drew in a quick breathe. His body already having processed who exactly this skeleton was. Hot tears filled the lining of his sockets and spilled down his cheeks. His body trembled as his mind finally realized his identity. “N-Nightmare...?”

Nightmare tilted his head in acknowledgement. Smiling as if he were praising Ccino. “I’m impressed.. but you were always smarter than you looked.” A pause. Nightmare once again averted his eyes, a flicker of doubt flashed in that violet orb of his. “I didn’t come here to waste your time. So I’ll cut to the chase. As you can see, many things have changed since we last met. Clearly I’ve changed... and more than physically.... But.... I’ve done terrible- unforgivable things and I’m not some naive fool expecting mercy or to be saved. Yet, I do believe that you.. at the very least deserve an apology.”

Nightmare rose from his chair his eye never breaking contact with Ccino’s. “I sincerely apologize for my actions, and for using you to my own benefit. As I said, I’m not looking for forgiveness. I’m far beyond that. Don’t worry, you’ll never see my face again and you may live your life as you please. You are no longer shackled to me... you are free.... and this is my final goodbye.” The violet skeleton turned to face his partner. “Let’s go, Killer. We have overstayed our visit.”

Ccino couldn’t believe what he just heard. Was nightmare apologizing to him? Did that actually just happen? The once feared and powerful being in the multiverse had just apologized to him. I guess there really was a first time for everything. He blinked a few times resulting in fresh tears to stream down his face. Wait.. goodbye? Did that mean.. as in forever? No... No! No! No! No, he couldnt! He just got back! He just came back and now he’s leaving again? Now that was just cruel... how cruel and yet Ccino still couldn’t bring himself to hate Nightmare. His presence only succeeded in confirming what Ccino already knew. That he was in love with Nightmare.

Killer jumped to his feet and placed his hands in his hoodie. “Awe, you sure you want to leave so soon, boss? I don’t know, I’m sure there’s plenty to do here. Besides, how could you leave that cutie behind-“

“NIGHTMARE!” Ccino called out his voice cracking from the his sobs he continuously failed to hold back. Nightmare turned around to face the skeleton when- SLAP! The noise of Ccino’s hand making contact with Nightmare’s cheek echoed in the near empty shop. Nightmare and Killer were frozen on the spot. Killer wasn’t sure how to react. He was caught off guard and didn’t see it coming. He was half expecting Nightmare to crumble on the spot from his various fractures.

“T-that’s for everything that you’ve done to me! For using me! For leaving! For having the nerve t-to come back, apologize, and only to leave again! Y-you just want me to pretend like none of this ever happened don’t you!? To forget about you!!! Well guess what!? Screw you!” Ccino furiously rubbed his eyes trying wipe the tears away but to no avail. All his bottled emotions had erupted to the surface and there was no way to seal them away again. “How dare you?! Who d-do you think you are?! To just waltz in and out like you please!”

Nightmare turned to face the crying skeleton. He was more than confused. He was certain that Ccino would have been delighted to know he had been liberated from the chains of negativity. Free from him. He hurt him so many times, used him for his own personal gain, and never cared for his well being. So, why was he so upset now that he offered him freedom? He opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted when the small barista wrapped his arms around the violet skeleton.

“P-please... please stay! Please don’t leave me!” Ccino wailed as he clung to the skeleton before him. He dug his phalanges into Nightmare’s top refusing to let go, because if he didn’t hold on tight.... surely he’d disappear again. “I-I don’t want you to go! I don’t want to forget! Please! Please! Please! I’m begging.... Don’t a-abandon me.... n-not again.....” The white eyed skeleton trembled as he pleaded for Nightmare to stay. He knew it was hopeless he was begging for the impossible. All his cries and efforts for him to stay would be in vain. But, what else could he do? He had to try because maybe, just maybe the outcome may be different.

Nightmare was frozen, hands stuck in midair as he heard Ccino’s heartbroken cries. Ccino didn’t want him to leave...? Why? Why would he want him to stay? The very being that tormented him for his own amusement? Nightmare was at a loss. What should he do? Ignore the crying skeleton and leave once more? Or should he stay? Either way he wouldn’t be able to permanently stay in this AU. He’s made many enemies who would stop at nothing, until they saw him and those around him perish. He knew this, yet he couldn’t bring himself to leave right now. How could he just leave this fragile skeleton? Ccino always made things more difficult then they should be. It would’ve so much easier if he resented him and despised him. He should’ve screamed for him to leave- to never come back. But no, he was begging him to stay.

Something warm and wet trickled down Nightmare’s cheek. Panic settled in for a brief moment. Was he bleeding? How? He didn’t have any injuries! He quickly touched the liquid with his phalanges and was confused to see a clear substance with a tint of violet. It wasn’t marrow/ blood. Then he realized the liquid came from his sockets... was he crying? His eyes widen slightly. He was. Post his corruption he hardly ever shed any tears. Just once with his twin brother when that forsaken curse had finally been broken. The emotions he thought he’d locked deep in his mind had resurfaced with immense intensity.

Nightmare’s body moved on its own accord enveloping the weeping skeleton into his arms. He gripped his sweater tightly trying to ground himself, fearing he’d lose himself in his own overwhelming emotions. The two skeletons wept in silence as the eyeless one watched with a solemn expression. His soul flickered and wavered as he attempted to suppress his feelings. It was painful. Watching the one he cared for hurt, knowing he wasn’t the cause but another, and seeing for the first time another skeleton suffer because of their feelings for the violet skeleton. It was.. heart wrenching.

The two skeletons cried for hours until they could no longer produce tears. The smallest skeleton ridden with exhaustion lost that battle against his heavy eyelids. He rested his head against Nightmare’s shoulders, feeling a sense a protection and safety in his firm arms. “Don’t.... go.....” the barista pleaded one last time before succumbing to fatigue and drifting to sleep.

Nightmare held the small skeleton firmly in his arms. He glanced at Killer, who had faint black tear streaks on his cheeks. Then back to Ccino who, still in his sleep, clung to him desperately. For the first time, he was at a loss on what his next course of action should be.

Wooooo! What a way to start fluffynight killer week don’t you think? I know it ends on an angsty note but I thought it was fitting! This has actually been one of my few favorite stories to write! Hope you all enjoy it as much as I did!

This story was inspired by some incredible headcanons and by Zu’s comic lodestar! Wouldn’t have been inspired to write this story if it weren’t for them <3

Killer belongs to @rahafwabas/ @rahofy-sketch

Nightmare belongs to @jokublog

Ccino belongs to @black-nyanko

Fluffynightkiller week by @help-im-a-gay-fish

[catcze]

hey it’s kiwi anon! i’ve been melting at the thought of musician kazuha lately so i just knew i had to let it out somehow. ^^;;

*before reading, i’d like to note that this is somewhat of a modern au where the reader and kazuha attend a prestigious music school known for raising successful musicians. only the best of the best are accepted, so it’s certainly a privilege to be there! (though, of course, it has its downsides but we’ll get to that later..)

and i wrote it in second person (gn!) this time!! >:)

(tbh i’m not particularly proud of this one but i really hope you guys like it anyway. ><)

“The stray melody:

its echo reverberates

such sad solitude.”

“Only at the right time shall the day come when I may ride the infallible winds of freedom to the place where creativity bears no bounds.”

“You are bound?” “How so?” You questioned.

After a long awaited interlude, you were finally face to face with the (formerly) faceless musician.

—

About a month ago, you were assigned a new practice room. Although most students would view this as a blessing from the archons, you found yourself in an unfavorable situation. Suddenly being thrown into playing in a new environment made you uneasy, and though your stance on this was unwavering, there was no disobeying the school.

But the first time the sound of violin seeped through the walls and filled your room with its charming tune, you were bewitched. For some strange reason, it was comforting to know that someone else was on the other side of the wall. Occasionally, you would pause practice abruptly only to listen to the chords, losing yourself in thought with the way they blended together in the most musical way possible; but before you could notice, an hour or two has passed and you’ve barely done much of anything.

Maybe this was a curse, but you surely weren’t one to complain about it.

One day, with no warning, it seemed the violinist began to play along with you. It never occurred to you that they could also listen through the wall, so it came as a complete surprise. It became a chivalric battle of wits; melodies fighting for dominance but only ever resulting in a satisfying draw. You couldn’t help but imagine their fingers dancing along the stringed instrument as your own strutted along the keys of the piano. And the way you two subconsciously created a heavenly harmony was enough to spark your interest and unhinged curiosity. Who are you?

But before you could ask, a faint voice spoke, “My dorm is located on the top floor near the gardens. I… do not expect you to meet me, but this could be considered as a statement or an invitation, however you perceive it.” That is what he said that day. God, even his voice was musical.

You, too, had no intention of meeting him directly. The thought of the school suspending the two of you for doing the bare minimum brought you back into your shell. You had limits, and there was nothing getting between you and your music career.

But that didn’t mean you weren’t willing to give some small effort into discovering the truth. Into the late hours of the evening, you took a casual stroll around the school’s gardens. Fortunately, you were alone. The silence was pleasant, but it didn’t last for long. As the familiar sound reached your perked ears, you searched around for the source of the noise. And there he was, standing on his patio with his long, bright hair tied back as the evening winds stroked each strand in its clutches— a violin held in his hand.

Everything about him was musical— even the way he pressed his delicate yet calloused fingers along the strings of the violin's neck. It didn’t take long for you to catch interest in the ruby-eyed violinist.

There was no explaining the way you two locked eyes for the first time. Though joyous, it seemed you both were lost— since when had you cared so much for someone you’d never met?

As it turned out, your dorms happened to be in close proximity with each other. It became routine for you to lean expectantly against the edge of your patio and for the violinist to leave his doors open so you could listen to his music as the sun would find its slumber, resting upon the horizon.

It didn’t take long for you to grow rather greedy. You longed to learn more about him, but everything about him was shrouded in an empty veil of unanswered questions and an identity you failed to identify.

Luckily, fate has its ways.

Curiosity led you to find yourself exploring into the deeper, abandoned depths of the school’s halls. You entered into a seemingly empty music room before shortly realizing you weren’t alone. The feeling of eyes staring daggers at your back made you prickle with fear until you turned to realize that such eyes belonged to the skilled violinist himself.

“Comedic coincidence always has its ways,” he remarked, the corners of his lips lifting into a gentle grin.

—

His face was always melded into the shape of endless pondering. He had a relaxed nature that was simply unchanging. And though he often appears to be a simple man at first glance, Kaedehara Kazuha was anything but simple.

It surprised you to see a vulnerable side of him, because you never expected him to have one. First impressions were surely deceiving.

He crouched over, his hand supporting his head in a lazy manner.

“I sense that I am suffering from a lack of passion— the kind that children may experience as they wrap their fingers around a bow for the first time,” a stray shadow came across him as he breathily sighed, “The walls of this school are suffocating, but I, like many others, can endure this drowning feeling.”

Kazuha often spoke in a unique manner— resembling a loud whisper.

“So, I wasn’t the only one who noticed,” you noted, “I’d hate to admit it, but this school is a living nightmare.”

Kazuha’s eyebrows furrowed and his eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

“And neither of us can wake from it.”

Momentarily, he shifted his position so he sat closer to you. His shoulder shrugged as his arm straightened and his hand held onto the edge of the seat to support himself, his handsome head hung idly backwards.

“But, I feel like I have a reason to keep going, but as of now it lingers in my head as an enigma of sorts. Perhaps it is odd to find myself blindly following passion without reason, but I have a feeling that perhaps,” he paused, his fingers traced along the seat and his pinkie linked delicately with yours, “you have a role to play in this.”

Your face burned slightly at the sudden display of physical touch.

His speech was vague. You naively wanted to question his use of words (and actions), but it didn’t seem timely. Until, next time.

You beamed slightly, “Perhaps so.”

Kazuha’s pinkie finger squeezed against yours before letting go. He stood up with his eyes still burning into your own.

“It appears I have surpassed my original practice time,” his eyes shifted towards the door, “We must take our leave before someone discovers that we are here.”

With his back facing you, Kazuha wrapped his hand around the door knob, but before he could turn it, he turned his head to look at you once more, flashing that signature smile of his.

“If you don’t mind me asking, would you like to be my accompanist for the upcoming concert?”

To you, Kazuha was like a hatchling, growing each day and itching to spread his wings and fly to places that are unheard of. He worked constantly, trying to rewrite the textbook definition of music into something more meaningful. He was ambitious, highly so; but you adored that about him.

It is silly, but you began to think that perhaps one day, you could be the one who frees him from the school’s heavy shackles.

- kiwi ! (hopelessly falling for ridiculously complicated plots to write about-)

(and no, i don’t play the violin hahah so sorry for any errors. :/ i play multiple instruments and have taken and still take music education so i hope that suffices.. might go for something more sweet and simple next time with more snarky kazu <3)

Holy shit!! Kiwi, babe, you never fail to impress akjndajks 😭

ajndkjsdPLEASE this is so good oh my goddakjsdas <33333

BABE you just keep outdoing yourself I–– 😭💞

This was literally so good?? Like, all of it? ajksndajks holy shittt <3333

Kiwi I am at a literal loss for words but I really, really hope you see how in love with this I am from my keysmashing akjsndkja <33333

[emikadreams]

A prompt perhaps?? Could you do one that’s set after Nyx is born and Rhys has a nightmare about the birth (or something like that) but Feyre is there to help him? Or maybe just a scene of them together trying to recover? Feel free to break my heart and put it back together again

Here ya go love💕 Again pls forgive the silly mistakes here and there...hope you enjoy and let me know what you think

I'm here

Rhysand was shackled to the wall.

His body shook with exhaustion and it seemed his wings were hidden away this time and he breathed a sigh of relief sending bolts of blinding pain across his body. A sob rose to his throat which turned into a yelp as he looked at the floor that was filled with blood, only to find that his wings were spread out and nailed to the ground like meat. The wings-the one part of him that he hid away from most- was gone.

Everything he ever loved was taken from him, now his wings were gone too. The only thing that reminded him of his mother and the life he lived in Velaris became a distant memory. He felt a burning in his eyes and he blinked his tears away.

He coughed only to have the pain nearly bring him to his knees and his power started to slip away as he caught a glimpse of a head of shining red hair coming towards him.

Fear gripped him as he realised that he was stuck in a palace underground.

He knew that shouting for help would be futile.

After all, he knew he deserved this endless torture.

He had his mother and sister killed because he was too trusting, he couldn’t shield his entire court, just one place and he knew that his choices would weigh him down for the rest of his life.

He laughed helplessly, trying to get a grip on his power but it seemed to slide away from his fingertips, blood dripped down his arms and chest with every movement and he couldn’t help but scorn at the irony of it all.

The most powerful high lord in the history of Prythian was shackled to a wall trying to crawl away from fear like a pathetic worm. All these years trapped under the mountain made him see things that were beyond unspeakable but nothing shook him to his core as realised that no one hated him more than he hated himself. No amount of pain could ever lessen his self-loathing and for a minute he was at peace, thinking that it was finally his time to end his eternal suffering when he saw her.

He dropped his head in defeat as he felt more than saw the woman float up to him.

“Well, well, well. Look at the almighty Lord of the Night bowing his head for even a smidgen of my mercy.” Amarantha traced his face and he recoiled from her, mustering all his dissipating strength and spat in her face.

She laughed at him.

“Poor selfish, pathetic high lord or shall I saw my whore. Still, trying to show defiance huh?” Her lips split into a cruel grin before continuing to scrape her sharp nails down Rhys’s face, leaving blood in their wake. “It seems that you have a little bit of strength left in you, very well. Keir, bring her.” She commanded and Rhys felt his heart drop as he realised his pregnant mate was on the floor, her bones twisted in different directions, her body was marred with scars that resembled fresh lashings. Rhys struggled to get to his mate, he pulled at his shackles but they refused to give but Feyre called to him and Rhys felt a part of him die as she said, “Rhys, love, I’m sorry I put you through this hell. I love you Rhys so-” her voice cracked but she continued, “So much, and I would go through it all again if it means that I get to be with you and-” her hands shook as she placed them on her stomach, affection and pain glinting in them, “ Our son.”

“Oh that’s so sweet, too bad it’s all just a fruitless dream” Amarantha interrupted, mocking Feyre’s words, “ Time to say goodbye slut” Amarantha spat out before she plunged a knife through Feyre and his son before snapping Feyre’s neck.

“NO! Feyre! Please no!” 

Rhys screamed in agony as he felt his heart break into a million pieces, he tried to rid himself of the chains that held him but they only tightened with each attempt. He struggled against them but they pierced into his skin and he cried out. He continued to scream till his voice was horse and he could no longer move a muscle.

He couldn’t go on with his life.

His mate, his son, his mother and sister, everyone-everyone he loved was dead.

He was exhausted.

He wanted to end his measly existence.

Rhys felt tears slide down his cheek and he didn’t care, not as his life was stripped of all meaning.

His head dropped as his sobs got louder but a hand lifted his chin and made him look at their face. He shut his eyes tightly and refused to open them but a voice said to him, “Rhys, look at me.” the voice was different- softer. Against his better judgement, he opened his eyes to find a pair of eyes looking into his, but those eyes didn’t belong to Amarantha, they belonged to Feyre.

“Rhys, it wasn’t real. I’m here love, our son is here. He’s happy and healthy and alive. We made it out. We’re free. You’re free.” With those words, Rhys woke up to find that he was sitting at his desk. He started to breathe raggedly but a hand gently lifted his chin and his mate was looking at him, with tears in her eyes and she smiled at him with their son in her hands.

Feyre gave him their son and Rhys was now crying openly but she sat on the arm of the chair and wrapped her arms around him, allowing Rhys to breathe her in she took her mate’s face and gazed into his tortured eyes and smiled without restraint showing with every inch of her face that she loved all of him before saying, “I’m here love.”

(p.s don't kill me pls)

@story-scribbler @evolving-dreamer @thebonecarver (cuz i thought you’d like this.)

let me know if you want to be tagged for my fics

[trashlie]

I'm loving all your ILY posts! I've also seen your comments on reddit and I enjoy reading your insightful analysis there, too. I would like to know your thoughts on Kousuke and Alyssa. Do you think they will become narrative foils? I noticed they were acting awkwardly around each other too (it kind of reminds me of how annoyed Soushi reacts around Maya) and she seems to have a crush on him 👀 I think she'll be used to contrast how he's still capable of redemption. 1/?

I mean Yui groomed them both successfully. They have shown to emulate her behavior, value their reputation over other people's feelings, and refuse to take accountability for their actions against Shin Ae and Nol. But unlike Kousuke, Alyssa has shown no hint of remorse or even guilt. 2/?

Waaahh thank you so much, anon! Isn't it silly that I still go :O when I realize people actually enjoy what I have to say? I started yelling into the void on tumblr because I got worried I was too active on reddit and I was possibly annoying people lmaooooo so I'm actually really glad you're able to find me on both platforms! It means a lot that I'm not just yelling into a total void.

If you don't mind, I'm breaking your ask down into two parts, because I might leave somethin off/this will get too long if I keep it all in one lol. BUT you bring up things I love to think about!!!!! So!!!!!

I think we are deliberately kept in the dark about Alyssa - whether it's to subvert the scheming girl trope, I'm not sure, but there's a lot of things we don't know about her and that's definitely on purpose. She's a character who probably won't be revealed more to us for a while yet, too, which is frustrating if only because I want to know everything NOW, but it does serve to make her more interesting.

Alyssa's interest in Kousuke is so obvious I can't believe I never noticed it in my original reads. I've seen this brushed off as "She just admires him" and I'm just like... she actually sulked for a moment about Kousuke leaving! Meanwhile she was straight up all but telling Nol she'll help him pack his bags lmao.

I feel like the cast of her shadow is deliberate, too, but look at that face. Sulking.

Compare with

There's room to argue that we can't see Alyssa's face when she first tells him she won't stop him, but she kind of makes it abundantly clear that Nol being away doesn't really affect her. And, I mean, look at how their relationship is conducted. She's bragged to Meg that she and Nol are so casual and cool and easy breezy.

(I guess that means there ALSO is room to argue that Alyssa is putting on a front and just saying this to make sure people think her relationship is great, but the only People who know is Meg. And as a people pleaser, if Alyssa felt uncomfortable with the casual nature of her relationship with Nol, wouldn't she actually do more to make the relationship more of what she wants? Notably during the conversation on the balcony, she basically tells Nol this isn't really her dream relationship, which leads to the admission that they are together not for each other but for the benefits they each get so......)

Kousuke is the one who confuses me the most, because it strikes me as really weird that Yui has used Alyssa as leverage before against Kousuke. "You should bring a date, Kousuke, Alyssa will be there." What does this mean? What does it have to do with him and why would it entice him to bring anyone, anyway? I'm still really baffled on this one, tbh. Something that really stood out to me was during the dinner when Nol finally revealed he was planning to attend Oxford, Kousuke was distracted by his own news that the CFO position would be opening. In fact, when Nol mentions attending Oxford later, Kousuke seems to act like this is his first time hearing it.

Nol takes note of Kousuke's state of distraction before he finally starts talking about his plan.

The way quim does the dialogue and suddenly Kousuke's interest returning is.... interesting isn't it? From the moment Nol notes Kousuke's disinterest, we don't see his face again until Rand brings up Alyssa. Quim doesn't do anything without reason - in a movie, you wouldn't waste film on Kousuke's interesting returning at the mention of Alysa unless it meant anything, right?

There's so many little moments that make me go what the heck is going on here, too.

What the heck is up with THIS? Why does Kousuke deliberate SO LONG before he calls Alyssa? Like, do I think he's really so weirded out about calling his younger brother's girlfriend, considering he has one of his younger brother's own friends reporting on him and at his beck and call? You can't convince me that he's hesitant only because Alyssa is the sister of Meg. It just seems too wary.

And yes, this moment here?

It really does have the same tone as Soushi's wariness of Maya, except is Kousuke wary of Alyssa in the same way? Is he wary of her intentions? This one is so hard for me to read, because frankly, at this point it's hard to tell if Kousuke even cares about Nol as a brother or because he was forced to and he feels deep-buried remorse for the way he treated him and doesn't know how to handle it. Is he just aware of Alyssa's keen interest in him and that puts him on edge? Would he even care about Alyssa's keen interest unless she starts to get pushy?

I HONESTLY HAVE NO IDEA and frankly, it drives me nuts, so I love to discuss this and see what other people have to say. I'd never even noticed how long he deliberates before finally calling her until someone on reddit pointed that out.

lmao this so much preamble to get to the point but anyway YES they are absolutely parallels and I do wonder if they would become foils. Again, it's hard to know with Alyssa because we've been deliberately shielded so much of her personality right now and it's hard to tell what's real and what's not with her. The way that she worries about Shinae telling Nol what she did absolutely reads to me as a lack of remorse, but maybe I'm just projecting because we haven't been given much reason to like her lol. Shinae definitely makes it seem like Alyssa never actually apologized and the way Shinae just brushes it off makes me feel like there was never actual, proper closure. What Alyssa did is worse than just causing her injury: it was why she did it and how she reacted like Shinae was something dirty and how dare she even talk to her even though Shinae probably just wanted to know why Alyssa stopped being friends with her. Maybe she was even seeking closure at the time.

In the same way that Nol and Shinae are mirrors, Kousuke and Alyssa are their parallel abusers, grooming victims of Yui, those who care more about their image and reputation than anything else and have hurt others (Nol and Shinae) in their quest to fill the role. We still don't know if Alyssa dated Nol because she genuinely had a crush (doubtful so far) or because she figured out the family he's from and wanted to get closer. I try so hard to give her the benefit of the doubt but narratively we aren't privy to that yet. Also, have you noticed that Nol and Shinae both have a relationship of some kind with each others' abuser? This mirror and their parallel abusers thing is INTRICATELY woven.

That's what makes it so difficult to tell if she'll become a foil or merely a parallel that highlights what Nol and Shinae have been through. We know Kousuke will receive a redemption arc, because he's a main character, and also because I think part of subverting his trope is that he has to take responsibility for his past actions, rather than being loved in spite of the things he's done or whatever. In order for Kousuke to proper and develop further, he has to be held accountable and he has to break free of his family. Can we trust the same for Alyssa? At this point, she doesn't want to lose Nol because she knows if she loses him, she can just as easily lose her career and access to the world she's only just gained access to (and if she were to lose it all right now, it would be worse for her because she'd have all those trainee fees to pay back).

I think both Kousuke and Alyssa are likely in for a very public airing of their sins; for Kousuke it may come in the form of the expose YuJing is working on, collateral damage in the quest to take down Yui. I also think the only way to nudge Kousuke to change is that his image has to take a hit in some form. Is it that Rand isn't his father? Is it a reveal that he abused his brother? Is it whatever happened in the past that Nol got in trouble for was caused by Kousuke and he let Nol take the blame? Likewise, I think the fact that people knew Alyssa in middle school means she's not so safe, either; what if one of the girls from after school duty reveals what happened? Surely there were rumors going around school about what happened - Shinae is out of school, Alyssa is pulled from school, kids talk. Frankly, a scandal like that could ruin her career, and worse, if Nol knew what she had done, would he be able to remain shackled to her?

While I know Kousuke won't immediately take responsibility for his actions, I've always believed that such a catalyst would at least make him start thinking about it and force him to admit it. It wouldn't happen over night, but in time it will. But will Alyssa? Would she deny the allegations? Would she just shift blame, insist that it was all an accident, that it wasn't bullying like you think? (Cos look, I do believe it was an accident, but there's a way to call it an accident and still admit fault and blame; but just as easily you can call it an accident and try to shirk responsibility.)

I do love the idea of her being a foil for Kousuke, an Aesop's fable, if you will, of what happens when you barter with the devil (Yui). I'm not opposed to the scheming female character type, but I do oppose it when they take down others to raise themselves up, and if that's the way Alyssa will end up doing it, then I'll be happy to watch her fall. If she can scheme and use her connections without hurting people then hey power to ya. Unlike Alyssa, Kousuke never had a chance to evade Yui, and being able to walk away from her as an adult will be a choice he can make. Alyssa loses... so much if she breaks her deal.

I guess that's the thing about where she and Nol are in their relationship now - it's been made clear he's hanging in here because he's forced to and as a sort of act of self-sabotage, full well knowing she's here because she's taking advantage of the opportunities that "dating" him brings so... if they're in an agreement, is it okay to watch her climb right now? She leaves me conflicted and I know it's largely because she's one of the characters we know just enough to hate but so little to justify. Could it be that it all just got out of hand for her? At first she just wanted friends, was trying to find a place to belong, something good in a life that deprived her of social connections. And then comes along Yui, seducing her with ideas of fame and fortune? Was the desire to be loved and admired so strong it powered over the need to fit in with friends and she readily cast them off? Did she not anticipate what it would actually mean, thought she could have her cake and eat it, too? The way she responds to Nol's texts, and the fact that Dieter and Soushi ask him about her, means she probably isn't even in touch with them at all anymore. Idk, I really look forward to seeing their dynamic pre-idol Alyssa, because I want to know how she fit with them, what was it like?

And then, because this was supposed to be about foils lmao you have the fact that Shinae basically foils both Alyssa and Kousuke in regard to Nol, both as a person who cares about him and also as "a good friend" vs "the person I'm currently seeing" lmao like, everyone is literally set to juxtapose each other and man, I'll never get over how well this has been done lmao. Compared to Kousuke and Alyssa, Shinae is the one who accepts responsibility even when it's difficult, who knows when and how to swallow her pride (even if she's not the one who should) and I think it's why she is the one seen a the champion at Nol's side - they are the ones who care little for their images and who know how to apologize (even when they aren't the ones who should be) and that's why they are at each other's sides.

So yes, this is a very long essay response lol to essentially say: I'm still undecided if I think Alyssa will become a foil or merely remain a parallel. I would love to see her redeem herself but something tells me not all characters in this story will be redeeamable. Maybe one day we'll understand her motivation, even if we don't agree with it. I hope at the very least she makes peace with Shinae, but I get the feeling she'll be forced into it (as in, her secret gets ousted) and that's not as satisfying, but hey, if it helps Shinae then I'm for it.

A friend of mine has mused that maybe Alyssa will be the one to oust the secret herself and I'm ngl, I like that idea though it does feel kind of vindictive towards her character. Maybe accidentally spilling it to Nol would be the segue to a couple episodes from her POV though!

Gosh this was so long I'm so sorry lmao but please follow up with your thoughts and feelings, too, or if this made you think of anything or what! I think at this point in the story we've been given a lot of information but we just don't have enough of it to totally piece together what we're supposed to be seeing. I think Kousuke and Alyssa's weirdness around each other is very deliberate, though, and I'm not sure "She's Meg's sister" is enough to warrant so many panels of Kou being SO WEIRD about her, you know? Am I missing thing? Is there more to be revealed? Are we just blind? lmao Aaaahhhhhhhhhhh

[razorblade180]

Shackles Finale: Free

[Part 12]

Destiny is a fickle thing. For some it’s real, and for others it’s as fake as fairy tales. No matter what however, time still goes on. Things still happen. Ruby was never one to think too hard on the topic despite all she’s been through. However, as she walked into Menagerie’s hospital soaking wet from the extreme downpour happening in the middle of the night, Ruby couldn’t help but wonder if it was destiny to test everyone’s resolve; or karma coming to collect.

Her self imposed mission had been going well. Adam cooperated, Blake planned ahead, and things progressed steadily. It should’ve stayed like that for three more months. Unfortunately things don’t always go as planned. Jacquelyn went into labor early, too early. The woman woke up today looking fit as a fiddle. Who could’ve guessed she would be fighting for her life today? Her, and her daughter?

Hospital staff were in a frenzy from the storm just like the public. It made getting to the back where everyone was without suspicion easy for Ruby. Certain doctors were notified ahead of time of the complexities of their patient and precautions had already been in place for Jacquelyn and company to have no disturbances. Though nobody factored in an unhealthy birth creating this island’s worst storms to date. Ruby made it to the sealed off waiting room. What should’ve been a haven of calm was another conflict. Blake stood arms folded and ears back in the way of guards and her conflicted father while Adam sat behind her, silent.

“You know I expected more from you, Saber. That goes double for you dad.”

The man frowned. “Blake, this wasn’t my-”

“We have held our end of the agreement.” Saber interjected, “Adam was to be free until the child was born. Not my problem that day came early.”

Blake grit her teeth. “You know damn well that’s not why I’m standing here right now!” She said through her teeth. His kid had just been born moments ago and just like that, she was rushed to intensive care. Meanwhile Jacquelyn was slipping in and out, her body failing her during the labor. “Let him see this through.”

“What good would it do him to hear terrible news? He’ll lash out for all we know. That can not happen in a hospital!”

“You just want to kick him while he’s down!”

“AND FOR GOOD REASON!”

Okay, Ruby had enough. “HEY!” She yelled, gaining everyone’s attention. She brushed her wet hair out of her face. “I set up generators across the island. No one's gonna lose power. I also told people Menagerie’s guards were making their rounds to make sure everyone was accounted for. I don’t mean to overstep being an outsider and all but…” her eyes burrowed into Saber’s “Get to work.” It wasn’t kind or even right necessarily, but Ruby didn’t care.

Feeling the pressure, Saber made the wise decision to take his people and leave. Ghira looked at Blake with guilt in his eyes for letting it get this far. “Listen I-”

“You know I understand mom not wanting anything to do with this, but I didn’t expect this from you. It’s like you’re trying to create every reason to push him back into old habits and make all this worthless. We will hold up our end of the bargain, so teach them what you tell me and have some patience.”

Ghira didn’t want to admit it, but she was right. There was caution, and then there was insensitivity. He had no words, just a nod before walking away.

Ruby grabbed his arm in passing. “She knows this wasn’t your call. Blake is stressed. Your house still has power. Ilia is with Kali trying to calm down Sienna and Sun is helping check on people. Maybe you should go home too?” Ruby smiled softly. She knew a worried father when she saw one. Ghira needed something to do.

“I appreciate the concern Mrs. Rose, but I think I’ll just stand guard outside this room.”

“Understood, and hey, things will work themselves out.” Ruby let him go and headed from one worried feline to the next. “You know he’s not to blame right? He’s just…trying to keep everyone connected.”

Blake let out a sigh, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “I know that, and I also know he’s not going to lose me. But right now I really need everyone to not jump the gun. Thanks for keeping the peace. Maybe I should’ve paid more attention to your leadership skills.”

“I just got snippy with faunus officers on their own island. Really testing my boundaries with my status as an important huntress across Remnant.” Ruby patted Blake on the back. “You should go check in on the doctors. I’ll do my job watching our person of interest.”

“Okay.” Blake looked back at Adam. He stayed quiet throughout all of this, eyes closed and arms crossed. He must’ve figured the best thing he could do right now is not look threatening. “I’ll let you know first if anything changes okay?”

He still didn’t move but that didn’t stop him from speaking. “Thank you.” He heard Blake run off in a hurry while the sound of chair legs rubbed the ground in front of him. Adam opened his one good eye and saw Ruby sitting in front of him with her scroll in hand.

“You know…I can’t remember when a day has felt this long.” Ruby sighed, “Moments like these is enough to just make you want stop time ya know?”

“I don’t need sympathy.”

“Wasn’t giving any. Just venting I guess. My husband sent me a text. I’m missing a very important arrival today; not that it’s your fault by any means. I just know it’s gonna be grounds for a conversation later that might get feisty, again.”

Adam could see how tired Ruby was. The normally energetic woman was leaning back in her seat, eyes closed.

“Maybe you shouldn’t take long missions then?”

“Pfft nah. I don’t regret helping where I can. Besides I didn’t know until after I took the mission. Things will work themselves out though. That’s how family works. Believe in each other and the impossible happens.”

“I know what you’re doing. It’s not gonna work. Just stop talking okay?”

Ruby pursed her lips. Years of leadership didn’t prepare her talks like these. She had to say something though. It was hard to explain, but Ruby could feel the importance of this moment. Good or bad news, bottling this up would make anyone go insane. Ruby reached down her shirt and lifted her necklace. It was a silver cross with red roses wrapped around it. She took it off and dangled it on her fingers, scooting closer to Adam.

“My dad and uncle gave this to me on my birthday. They said…sometimes you need a piece of faith when you don’t have any yourself. I’m not really religious but apparently my mom used to pray after she knew there was nothing left she could do herself. Hehe, it’s a Rose mentality.” Ruby put it in Adam’s hand and curled it. “Don’t tell anyone this, but it’s pretty cool that you are your own kind of rose. Makes me feel like we’re connected in a way. Keep that. I know it’ll fit you.”

Adam remained quiet. He stared down at the trinket in his hand until his vision blurred. His body trembled. Slowly he clenched the cross. “I have no right to pray for anything. If destiny or whatever you want to call it exists then it’s only fair I get punished.”

Ruby frowned, “Hey that’s-” she cut herself short, not expecting Adam to put his other hand over the cross; his forehead pressing against them as he closed his eyes.

“Punish me.” He uttered weakly. “Me, not them. Leave everyone else out of it.” The first and only prayer he’ll ever make. His life could be at destiny’s whim forever as long as the ones who fought for him didn’t get burned.

Ruby stood from her seat and knelt down, grabbing his hands and joining the prayer. All while Ghira watched silently from the entrance.

For several hours, It was out of everyone’s hands. A roll of the dice, luck of the draw, fate, gods, destiny, whatever anyone wanted to call it; that was the only thing left and no one dared to keep track of the time out of anxiety. It was a scary, humbling feeling for certain. It was also the purest reminder that life wasn’t fair. Bad things happen to good people, hard work is left with nothing, and sometimes… a sinner’s prayers get heard.

The doors flung open with Blake breathless. “Adam…” she panted, eyes bigger than the smile on her face. “She’s-” the tears shed caught her off guard. The two roses stared blankly before Adam stood. Blake moved out of the doorway and he took it as a sign. ‘Run.’ Adam ran and no one dared to stop him.

“Back room.” Blake said, walking to her father. Ruby got up as well and joined the two. Blake looked at the red faced girl. The feline giggled softly while wiping Ruby’s tears. “And here I thought I knew how big your heart was?”

Ruby laughed as she tried to stop sniffling. “It’s not what it looks like. Seeing him sit there with his demons like that, it reminded me of how my dad and uncle qrow used to look when mom was brought up. Sorry, got a little compromised.”

“Welcome to the club. Dad, sorry I-”

Ghira wrapped his arm around Blake. “Don’t apologize. I tell you to take things slow and yet I tried rushing to the end of this. I’m sorry. I can’t say what lies in store for Adam next, but I suppose…I’ll have to keep more of an open mind. He’s earned that much.”

Ruby shook her head and sighed. “If I’m being honest, personally I think everyone has been a bit silly. Including my lovable sis. You all make it sound like he’s been trouble free for six months when that isn’t the case. I can’t say if he’s been perfect or not but the fact that Remnant thinks he died at Argus has to mean something, right? I certainly can’t link him to any world threatening incidents since then. He’s been minding his business for a couple years now. Is locking him up really gonna change anything? I mean it wouldn’t matter if Cinder was in or out of jail for me. I’d still be wary and pissed. Your men’s feelings about him wouldn’t change because of a cell. But hey, that’s just me.”

Ruby put her hands behind her hand and walked off. “I’m gonna step out for a moment and make a call.” She looked out a window. To her surprise, the rain had stopped. Ruby dialed Yang’s number. “Hey sis! Beautiful day to start a family. So, what’s my precious little niece’s name?”

xxxx

Adam reached the back room and pushed the door open to find Jacquelyn in bed, startled by his entrance before giving him a grin. Her skin had a sickly yellow dinge to it and she was covered in sweat. Still she smiled, holding a small infant as doctors looked at vitals and did their work.

“Awe, have you been crying? I’m sorry. Guess we gave you a fright.”

One of the nurses looked at the maiden like she was crazy. “Ma’am you slipped into a coma. Please don’t try and move around much.”

“I was a little tired, that's all. Heh…guess we finally found something I’m not good at? That’s un- oh…” Adam put his arms around her and the baby. Odd, to think he could hold something this gently? His presence soothed her into leaning into the embrace, humming quietly to both him and the new arrival. A premature baby with red hair, and tiny horns.

The doctor, naturally sworn to confidentiality, watched from the sidelines. “I’d like to congratulate you with confidence, but these two aren’t out of the woods yet. While I expect Jacquelyn to bounce back with time, your daughter is pretty frail. We have her stable for the time being but the heart is a complex organ even when fully developed. We’re going to have to keep her for a while just to make sure she’ll grow up healthy. Rest assured, I will do everything in my power for her.”

“Thank you.” Adam looked at his daughter’s round face. She opened her eyes to reveal two pools or bright blue. “Hmmm.”

“Something wrong?” Jacquelyn asked.

“She’ll have a hard time, with these features going for her. I was hoping she’d look more like you.”

“Oh hush. She’s beautiful like this. Though maybe I am a little jealous she doesn’t have my hair. Still, real big fan of those eyes.” She kissed his cheek. “We’ll do our best and then some.”

The doctor pulled out some paperwork. “Now then, I’m going to need a name. Her record won’t be too expensive in terms of…background history, but she’ll need the basics as best as possible. Especially in her condition.”

“Wanna name her after your mother, or even your sister?”

Adam shook his head, “I think we already have enough namesakes. Let her be free from that. You decide. I was never really good at these kinds of things.”

“Oooo okay. Don’t come crying later if you think of a good one. A free spirited name for our little kid.” Jacquelyn giggled to herself. “Got it. How about we name her…”

“Hehe, That’s a perfect name.” The two roses spoke.

[amethystpath-writes]

oooo can i request a drabble for that one post you made about the captured hero and the malicious villain because i want that if you have the time or inspiration. thanks :D

I ended up writing this one twice because I wasn't satisfied with the first, but here we are! Thanks for the request anon!

Add. tag: (@whatwhumpcomments )

Heed tags! Nothing too serious but just to be safe <3

******

Heels. Hero hated the sound of heels. Usually, he could tell what mood Villainess was in by how loud and precise the steps were. This time was different.

The steps were sharper, which typically meant she was determined, but this sound was different. It sounds...hollow. What did that mean? He didn't know, and there wasn't anything he could do to find out, seeing as he was shackled against the wall, except wait until she opened the door- which she did.

White light flooded into the room, and Hero had the sense to close his eyes immediately after he heard the lock of the door click. He let his vision adjust beneath his eyelids before opening them. Not without a couple of claws digging around in his stomach.

It happened- his body's discomfort- every time he acknowledged Villainess was in the same building as him. And when she was in the same room as him- when Hero could see her- his throat swelled like it was trying to keep down the stomach acid he knew his body was trying to toss.

Watching her step in now, Hero had to suppress the whine in his throat. He felt so pathetic, felt like a puppy dog begging for attention. Only, attention was the last thing Hero wanted- because attention was a code word for pain.

Villainess hummed. "What say you we do today?"

Hero only swallowed and screwed his eyes shut. The mere image of Villainess sent him into flurries of panic, and oftentimes begging. Instead, he hyper-focused on any amount of wrath he felt. Hero thoughts of his friends- his team. He wanted to return to them so badly, but his wishful thinking didn't last.

"Come on. Pipe up!" Villainess screeched. "I'm in a good mood today!"

Which is exactly why I'm not. The thought wasn't quipy, not at all. Hero imagined his voice being dreadfully tired; it's how he felt.

"You haven't asked why I'm dressed up."

Hero had noticed the stilettos, and even acknowledged that that was why Villainess' steps had been so much more piercing than usual. Most times she wore clacky boots. Not today.

"I have a banquet to attend to. I'm hostess, actually."

The hero groaned, waiting and waiting for Villainous to do something, anything. The anticipation was worse than the torture itself- so he liked to think.

"Bored, are you? Then how about you tell me what we're doing today?"

He shook his head, eyes still closed. Why did she always try to make him choose how she would torment him? It was cruel, and entirely undeserved. "May-maybe you should just- should get ready for your-"

"What do you think I'm doing now?" Hero looked up, only to see Villainess' mouth lift at either corner.

Don't tell me-

"You are going to the banquet, too. Only," She gripped his pretty chin, tilting it to either side. Villainess hummed. "Did you ever watch Beauty and the Beast?" She waited, but when Hero delivered a continued silence, she demanded an answer, to which he nodded. "Good. Then my little rose will be familiar with his glass cage."

Hero swallowed, tried to pull his head away from her hand, but she followed him in whatever limited space he had. "Is that it then? I'm just going to be on display?" His voice was hopeful, but still shaky. Hero doubted it would be that easy. And he was right.

Villainess' hand finally slid away from her captive's chin, but slid to his shoulder. She picked an invisible fleck off the shoulder of his tattered shirt. "I wish I could mend clothes like I did your skin." Hero shuddered at his too many memories of sliced skin. Villainess was a healer. Any prick, scratch, or mortal wound could be repaired to extraordinary health in a snap. Or she could take her time. It depended on her mood most days.

"But maybe not. I do like your skin. It'd be a shame to always have it covered in cloth." Villainess ran her hand across the holes of Hero's shirt. Her eyes lit up as she saw the goosebumps riddling his flesh. "You know what I'll do?" She took several steps backwards, eyeing Hero like he was bait. Villainess giggled. "I'll write the names of your friends on your arms after I rip the sleeves off."

Hero squinted at his tormentor. "You'll write them?" He tried not to think of what their names meant, or rather what Villainess would intend for them to mean. Instead of seeing their names and thinking of himself as a failure for being caught, he would see himself as- as a distraction. Yeah, that was it. Hero was a distraction. Because as long as Villainess was focused on him, she wouldn't bother trying to find the others.

"Not with ink, silly."

How many times had Hero swallowed since Villainess stepped in today? "With wha- how are you-"

"Well first I'll need a cutting tool. How do you feel about scalpels? I find them to be very convenient." Villainess sighed and let her hand fall from the hero's body. "So much work, so little time. You know your one friend has an eleven letter name? Ridiculous. I'm not even sure I can pronounce it."

Hero grunted. He didn't know if he could handle another day of torture. Every day was the same. Every day, Villainess came in and scraped him down to the bone, or raggedly cut patches of his hair off- oftentimes ticking off pieces of his scalp, or any other amount of physical tortures. "I don't- Please. I can't-"

Villainess stopped, faced her precious prize again. "Well, go on, then."

The worst thing about the villainess having the ability to heal was that nearly everything about her was perfect. If anything became askew- like a broken nose- she could fix it. Even worse, she could make it straighter than it ever was before.

Her ability meant that her teeth, as wolfish as they were, were perfectly straight, perfectly polished, and perfectly spine-chilling.

"If you can't handle it, then try to escape."

For the first time since he'd been captured, Hero snarled. And he did yank at his restraints. The metal holding him to the wall bit against his wrists. His elbows were thrown forward, but otherwise, he hardly moved at all.

He spat, "They'll come for me. They'll come, and they'll kill you before freeing me." Hero hated the way his stomach twisted further as Villainess' smile fell into a straight line. No doubt she was still amused, but whatever was about to happen, it was serious, and Hero didn't know how to prepare for it.

Villainess began the tiny trek back to her captive, eventually leaning into Hero and placing her elbows on his arms- keeping them pinned to the wall. She chuckled, pressing a finger against his lips. Surprised he wasn't biting, she told him in a delicate whisper, "They are dead. Just like I am myself in your dreams." Villainess didn't give him time to bite. She moved her hand from Hero's lips to his chin, grasping it between her slender, witchy fingers, and then throwing his head to the side. Villainess put her weight on a single heel before spinning her back to Hero and walking out, hollering before she shut the door, "I'll be back with my equipment in just a moment, love."

The door shut, and all Hero could do was listen as her footsteps retreated, only to hear them come back again. It couldn't be true, could it? That his team was dead? But then why else would Villainess keep him alive?

She wants a trophy to present. And if the rest of the heroes were dead, Hero was the only thing left to show. Villainess would keep him forever just to remind him- and everyone else- that she'd won.

******

If you liked this, consider buying me a coffee? :D

[wordynerdygurl]

Lady In Waiting

Author Note:  Hiya everyone!  This one, man, I’ve thought about this for a long time!  I hope it entertains and delights you all!   Summary:  Loki calls you over for some fun with cuffs but an interruption leaves you a Lady In Waiting!

Pairing:  Loki x Female Reader Warnings:  So, SMUT.  Art House, Prose-y, SMUT... also restraints, in a committed relationship.

“Come over.  I need you.”

That was all it took for you to get yourself across town as quickly as your worn out canvas sneakers could carry you. Knocking on his door, breathless and heart racing, you bite into your bottom lip.  Already excited, you rocked on your heels, a bubble of giddiness rising inside you.

Hearing the locks turn, you’re expecting the door to open for you, Loki waiting on the other side but that doesn't happen.  Tentatively, twisting the knob, you push into the dimly lit room where your lover hides.  He is definitely here, you think in the clear moment before Loki’s hands find your shoulders, driving you into the solid wood of his front door.

Stopping his lips is not an option.  Cupping your chin, he has tipped your mouth into the perfect position, allowing him unchecked access to your soft, sweet mouth.  You’d moan, but Loki would just swallow it whole, so the sound you do make is a choked gasp of longing. His tongue is inside you, flicking over your teeth.  His tongue rubs against your own, tasting what you taste of.  

His tongue caresses your inner cheek, slick on slick, slipping further into the deep well of you.

His tongue traces the roof of your mouth, riding the ridges there, as if to conquer all of the flavors and words and songs that might be made in your carnal cave. Pulling away, dewy pink pout in place, “I came as soon as I could.” “It’s much appreciated.” Fingers grab his tight shoulders, enjoying the unbearable nearness of him, unwilling to break your embrace even if the kiss must end.  Searching his eyes for answers, “What’s your rush?” It’s innocent enough a question.  Loki’s call had sounded almost panicked.  But you knew nothing truly scared your God of Mischief.  No, there was something else at work here.   “I told you.  I need you.”  Pressing his hardening length against your belly, you could feel the agitation in him, the straight up desire that drove him to dial you up.  Still at the entryway, you flexed your hands, releasing your grip on him with great effort.  

But Loki didn’t yield an inch to you.  If anything he stepped closer, pinning you with his rigid body and his scorching gaze.  With a heaving sigh, “Loki…” “Go to the bedroom.  Take off these ridiculous pants… your silly sneakers… your stupid socks.”  

On you again, mumbling into your neck, mouth intent on marking you, “Kneel on the bed.  You know how I like to see you.  Feet tucked under you, head bowed, back straight… but with your knees spread, dove.  Wide open for only me to see.  Will you do this for me?” What could you say?  No?  Hardly.  

Loki pushed away from you then, leaving you behind as he moved further into his lair, his directions leaving your knees weak.  Inhaling a steadying breath, you moved quickly, struggling for calm.  Pulse racing, you throw your bag down with a thump once you're in Loki's room.  

Wasting no time, you shuck your clothes, heart pounding with anticipation.  You scramble onto the inky sheets, flushed with want, goosebumps breaking across your hypersensitive skin.  It seems like hours, but truthfully, in seconds you were waiting as requested, panting with pent up passion. 

You weren't left waiting long. Leaning into the door frame, Loki was without his shirt, a sight that made you writhe.  Black jeans, faded at the knee from wear, were unsnapped but hanging onto his hips in a way that made you salivate.  He was also barefoot, which probably shouldn’t be so sexy on a man like yours, but damn him… even his toes had the ability to excite.

And they did, actually, all of it did.  You couldn't recall a time when you had been so, so ready.  If Loki didn't touch you soon, you were certain your body would self ignite. “Put your hands behind your back, little one.”  Doling out commands in his honey hot voice had you complying without complaint. Forcing your chest out, bountiful bust barely contained by your flannel shirt, you felt the buttons tug tightly in your new position.  Lust lingered in Loki’s eyes at your shameless display.  “Oh, we’re going to have so much fun, darling.  So much fun.” Deep down, you knew that the cuffs were coming out.  He wouldn’t have been so specific with his directions otherwise.  Still, when the cool steel snapped closed, trapping your wrists behind you, you keened softly, “Is this really necessary?” “Definitely.  Because, you see, you look so damn fetching with your body bent in the way I want.”  Pulling down on the chain between your shackles, back bending to relieve the pressure, Loki asserted his dominion over you.  

Long fingers plucked your straining buttons open.  Greedy fingers circled your nipples, the coarse lace of your bra offering no protection from the fantastic friction Loki was creating.  His palms squeezed, rough, fingers finding a hold on each of your glorious globes.   Tugging the frilly cups down, your breasts now heavy and free, Loki lowers his full lips to your tender bud.  At first it’s a lick, tentative, soft.  Soon he is sucking, precious pain pulling you closer to his tightly sealed kiss, perfect teeth biting into the gentle flesh. “Oh fuck… oh fuck… Loki…”  Whines tumble out of you, unbidden, unrehearsed.  

“Hush, dearest.  If you can’t quiet down, I’ll have to make you.”  Folding your bottom lip between your teeth, nodding with understanding, you silently agree.  Returning to his work, Loki focused on your opposite breast with the same erotic enthusiasm. Since you can’t speak, you hum.  But then your humming grows in volume.  Soon you’re moaning, unable to do more than bounce your bottom, needing the fullness that Loki offers to bring you some level of satisfaction.  Feeling him over the flimsy fabric of your panties, head thrown back in delirious desire, you want Loki to push inside of you.  You’re desperate to have him stretch you, open you up for his own amusement.  That eagerness makes Loki chuckle darkly.   

His hands find your hips, dipping under the elastic waist of your underwear.  Expecting Loki's lingering touch, a whine slides out of you at the sound of shredding satin.  “No, please, Loki!  I’ll be quiet.  I promise!” “Ah, it’s a bit late for that, unfortunately.  Open up.”  Loki expects your complete submission, never doubting that you’ll do what he’s asked.  Reluctantly you part your lips.  Loki takes his time, thumb caressing your mouth, before setting the ruined garment on your tongue. Kissing along your jaw, Loki husks, “Now you’re wet cunt is ready for me.”  Your eyes roll at his lewd language, a wave of euphoria coasting through your throbbing cleft, your stuffed mouth unable to do more than mumble.   His wicked words are still hanging there, floating in the air around you both, when there’s a knock at his door.  Freezing in place, his hand on your spread thigh, Loki’s head cocks to one side as if unsure that he’s heard the beckoning.

"Loki?  Are you there?” “Thor.  Fuck.  He's early.”  Shocked, you watch Loki push himself off the bed, buttoning up his pants.  Words form but are blocked by the fancy cloth stunting your speech.  Grazing his lips over your forehead, “Don’t move, darling.  I’ll be back.” Anger replaces arousal.  Loki can tell by the look on your face that you’re more than pissed off at the interruption.  “I know.  Just be a good girl.  Be quiet.  Be still.  And I won’t show my brother how incredibly sexy you look bound and gagged in my bed.” With one last look at your livid figure, Loki shut his bedroom door, leaving you as he described.  Wet, willing and now, waiting. You can’t hear what they’re talking about, all you can make out is tones.  It sounds rather serious, but without context, who’s to say what brings Thor here, unannounced.  He must ask after you, because Loki’s voice rises just a bit in order to offer a vague, “She’s tied up at the moment.”  And you really could scream with frustration and fury.   Internally debating your options, you realized that they were few, and of poor quality.  You could risk rising, near naked with your hands locked behind you, but how would you open the door?  Grunting, you sit back on your heels, giving your sore knees a break.  How long would Thor stay? Shortly you heard Loki’s footsteps coming closer.  Suddenly alert, your reverie broke in a flash, focused solely on the door.  Blushing hot, you watched the knob turn and Loki, finally, was there. He didn’t come closer, rather, Loki pulled a clean shirt from a drawer.  Tipping into near panic, you started talking even though you knew it was pointless.  Sensing your anxiety, Loki brought your face to his, kissing your cheek.   “Thor is still here, not a sound, kitten.”  His voice is rough.  Coarse.  But it also sends shivers shooting through your system.

The bed dips as he sits beside you.  Loki parts your opened shirt, hands drawn to your satin skin, palms skating over your belly.  Shivering, you can't help tilting towards him.  If you weren't so tense with need maybe you could afford to be angry with Loki.  As it is, just being near him is enough to reignite your ardor.

Whispering softly, calming you between chaste kisses to your chin, cheeks, the bridge of your nose, Loki calls you darling, sweetness, dear. His hands never stop exploring your tethered form, relishing your responsive whines, enjoying your trusting helplessness.  Mirroring your posture, sitting up on his knees, Loki grabs one of the pillows from his headboard.

Still adrift in the attention he affords you, his changing tone of voice jars you, "I only have a minute, pet."  His hands, aggressive now, slap your thigh.  The intention is clear.  Spread 'em.

"My sweet little kitten, so greedy, so ready for me… I am unable to attend to all your needs just now.  Regrettably."  His voice is a ragged husk.  

Arousal evident as he scrunches the pillow, "Come on… up on your knees." 

Unsure of Loki's objective, you're surprised when he tucks the cozy rectangle between you and the mattress.  The foam, pressing against your swollen sex, provides friction but not the satisfying stretch your body craves.  Using only your mumbled mewls as confirmation to continue, toying with you, Loki circles your hypersensitive clitoris.  Your hips jerk, surprised spasms sending you into the softness Loki has stuffed underneath you.

"That's it… keep going.  Gods, you are so beautiful."  His praise speeds up in time with your climbing desire.  Gasping behind your gag, once more on the edge of ecstasy, your thighs tremble around the cushion cradling your center.  Between Loki's dancing digit and the unlikely excitement caused by riding the downy pillow, you're seconds away from succumbing to a glorious finale.

And as fast as he began, Loki withdraws, leaving you drenched in unquenchable need.  Crying in frustration, muffled and desperate, your body is beyond the limits of begging.  At the moment Loki could ask anything of you and he would have your complete cooperation, if it meant that you could clench around his hard length.

Standing, those long legs carry him to the bureau.  Rustling around, Loki finds what he needs and faces you with a devious grin.  Crossing the floor in two strides, looming over you now, your tear streaked face lifts toward the man you love.  His hand tangles in your hair, forcing your back to bow, pushing your pelvis forward.

A familiar buzz fills the room.  He gives you no further warning.  One second you're open, ripe and ready.  The next you are overfilled, grateful for the gag muffling your cry, squeezing the toy stuffing your center.

“Loki?  Are you ready?”  Thor’s voice boomed from the other room breaking through the cloud of your nearing climax. “Nearly there, brother!  Give me just another minute!’  Turning his bright blue eyes to you, Loki flashed his finest smile, “He needs me to go with him.  I won’t be long… so you must cum.  Right now."

And it's the physically lethal combination of Loki's flashing glare, his wicked whispers, and false phallus that fight to free your feminine frenzy.  Humping his toy into you, the pillow giving you resistance, you feel the speculative shuddering start in your center.  Cresting in a wave of wonderment, your pleasure crashed over you, cries cut off by your full mouth.

Loki, holding onto you, cooing softly, caresses you through your release.  The toy stills inside of you, still filling, but no longer shaking against your tender walls.  Swiping the gag free, Loki forces a deep kiss on you, absorbing your aftershocks with his able mouth.  "That, my sweet, was worth every second."

Stretching your jaw, sighing softly, "Loki… undo these cuffs?"

Thoughtful for a moment, Loki looked over your flustered form, "I don't think I will.  I rather like having you here.  Knowing that you’re naked and needy, waiting for me.  Gods… I’ve been hard this entire time, dove.” Wasting no time, Loki picked up where he’d left you before, his hand finding your center as his tongue plundered you once more.  Slow, painfully slow, Loki dragged his fingers through your soaked slit, pressing the vibrator firmly into your velvet tunnel.  Soon, too soon, you were a mewling mess.  Sobbing softly into Loki’s ear, “Please… more, please.”

Shaking against him, body taunt, so ready to let go again, Loki’s fingers left you.  “I’ll be back in half an hour.”, his normally stoic voice streaked with desire. In a worried whisper, “What?  You’re really leaving me?”   “I am.  But once I get back, I’m going to ravage you soundly, so I need you to be ready.”

“Loki!  You can’t!”  It’s the loudest you can be while still whispering.  And it isn’t nearly forceful enough to change your troublemaking lover’s mind. “I can and I will.”  Walking around you, facing you full on, Loki stroked over your tummy.  Grabbing your bottom, fingers digging into your yielding flesh, you groaned.  “Oh yes, you’re staying right here, my pretty pet.” “Loki?  Are you ready yet?”  Thor sounded impatient, and more alarmingly, right outside the bedroom.  “Almost, dear brother.  Meet me downstairs, ok?” “Fine… but hurry up!  Jane’s expecting me!” “Oh, we don’t like to keep our ladies waiting, do we brother?”  Thor moves on, you hear his boots on the stairs.  Loki on the other hand, his look is sinful as he licks his lips, hungry for you.  Leaning into your ear, “I can smell you, kitten.  And I can hardly wait to have you.”  You lean into his strength, silently begging him to stop this game, hot skin abraded by his clothing.  “Please!  Don’t leave me hanging, Loki!” Laughing coldly, “Hanging?  Oh no.  You have so much to do, darling.  There are rules, you see…” Gritting your teeth, already on edge, you wanted to snap at your lover.  “Rules?  Loki, you’re really…”  But the rest of your words were lost as he manipulated the massager using some form of magic.  Arching away from him, your overstimulated body wanted to fly over the cliff into your next completion.   “Are you listening, love?  Because this is important.  You are not allowed to cum without me.”  

Rational thought was fleeting.  With every second of sensual overload Loki forced on you, all you knew for certain was that you worshiped the God in front of you, and because of this, your agreement was undeniable.  Nodding, voice useless, you let Loki kiss you again, his rhythm matching that of his tormenting toy.

"Do not cum, kitten. I will be back shortly."  Slapping your ass, Loki laughed at your shriek, shutting the door on you.  Could you hold out?  God, the thrumming vibrations were radiating through you.  Rocking your hips, fighting against the tide of your tension, your fragile nerves were rapidly fraying.  He had told you, commanded you, ordered you not to climax.   But how long would it take before your body broke Loki’s rule?  And just what would The God of Mischief do if you failed him?  Pulling against the steel bracelets holding your arms, snuggled into the cushion cradled against you, you laughed as a fresh release rolled over you.

You were going to be here awhile.  Loki was going to need a new pillow.  And paying him back was going to be so much fun.   

Tagging Team:  @just-random-obsessions​ @iamverity​ @brokenthelovely​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @archy3001​ @mizfit2​ @vodka-and-some-sass​ @jamielea81​ @jessiejunebug​ @lots-of-loki​ @thefallenbibliophilequote​ @alexakeyloveloki​ @rorybutnotgilmore​ @procrastinatinglikeabitch​

[sonnetos]

@yksha​:    there is a cloud,    drawn over the skies in venti’s eyes.    the vastness straitened,    the waters murky.    something weighs heavy,    has dimmed the spark in their eye.    it hurts to see.    it shouldn’t.    it does.    xiao does not touch,    does not reach,    not if not necessary.    but is it not ?    tonight he learns something:    perhaps touch is easier than words,    sometimes.    arms open,    the motion so unfamiliar and yet   …   it comes easy then.    the embrace is not hesitant.    xiao knows what it is to feel as though one were falling apart from the inside.    perhaps he can hold them together,    just for a little bit.     ❛  it’s alright.  ❜

the bard is uncharacteristically quiet now, as placid as the evening air within the dihua marsh. & under the dim moonlight there’s a change in venti’s face. they look older somehow, the youthful glow in their face completely in shadow. his eyes that have so often reflected the glittering stars above them are now void & empty. the only thing reflected now are the countless years that have passed & everything he’s lost in that time. 

it’s not a sight venti would care for many to see.  the people of mondstadt, those who are counting on him to guide & protect them...what would become of them if they knew what has become of their beloved god. what becomes of a child when they are made known of their parents’ troubles & fears? when they realize they are not as indestructible as they had previously thought? would they lose hope then? would they no longer believe in him? venti can’t let that happen. he won’t let that happen. 

which is part of the reason why he’s here in liyue. this land is not his to watch over & these burdens are not for him to bear. how ironic it is that the land of the free & flight has made him feel so shackled to the floor. yet here in the land of earth & tightly wound contracts is one of the only places venti may be free of responsibility. what a silly song the fates have woven for him to play.

there’s a rustle of leaves in the tree above him followed by soft footsteps in the damp grass. venti does not need to turn around to know who their evening visitor is. ❛    good evening adeptus xiao.    ❜  their greeting is not without warmth but admittedly it lacks the usual spark they usually greet xiao with. venti speaks with a voice like dying embers in a fireplace, weak & weary.  ❛    it’s a lovely night isn’t it?    ❜

there’s a question on xiao’s tongue.  venti needn’t hear it to know, he needn’t even turn around to know what is on the yaksha’s mind. but selfishly he hopes they do not utter it. for venti does not have it in him to lie this time, for once lacking the strength required to hold up that cheery smile of us. so tonight venti will simply stall & pray that xiao will forgive them for this moment of weakness. 

❛    sometimes i like to come here at night when it’s quiet.    ❜  venti continues on, pretending the golden gaze at the back of his head doesn’t unnerve him so.  ❛    liyue is such a beautiful land...not that mondstadt isn’t it’s just --    ❜  a sigh. their facade is falling.  ❛    a change of scenery can do wonders. someday, if you’ll let me maybe -- never mind.   ❜  xiao would never leave liyue. they are not weak & flighty as you are. there’s little point in even encouraging the notion. 

silence follows venti’s words, a silence that threatens to swallow him whole. they’ve never cared for the quiet, something understandable for the god of music & merriment. for in the silence something dark dwells, the ghosts & demons that hunger for the grief in venti’s heart. it waits for moments like these to strike & tear the bard apart like he were nothing more than any other prey. & oh how long these demons have waited for this chance to prey on his soul.

perhaps this is why xiao has come to his side. they are not called the conqueror of demons for nothing, no? once again the yaksha comes to their aid even when it has never been asked of him. such dutiful loyalty is undeserved for a pitiful archon like himself. can venti even call himself an archon anymore? the gnosis, the source of his power has been ripped from him. now they are as average & ordinary as any other man with only a lengthy lifespan to set them apart. 

❛    won’t you say something, friend?    ❜  venti pleas to the stoic wind, the silence beginning to rip away at his flesh. the bard finally dares to look behind him, jade finding gold as he meets xiao’s gaze. there’s something different in how they look at him now, their golden eyes looking almost pained. is it disappointment xiao has for them now? is it pity? venti can’t decide which is worse. ❛    your silence is beginning to trouble me s--    ❜

venti cuts himself off mid sentence,  silenced by a pair of arms coming to wrap around him. the gesture is foreign to him, freezing him to the core as his eyes widen. it is strange to be comforted, to be consoled. venti cannot remember the last time someone has held them like this --- were they ever held like this?  so often it is he who holds the sky up, who time & time again stitches a song to heal the wounds of those who are aching. all the while his own wounds bleed open in venti’s continuous neglect. it’s alright. venti’s never asked to be healed, never wanted to be healed.

it takes a few moments for venti to process it all, remaining as still as the air around them as he stands in xiao’s embrace. but then in the silence of the marsh something fractures & the last pieces of venti’s resistance crumbles into the earth. their eyes flutter closed, masking a sudden mistiness that’s risen to their eyes. venti’s head lowers to fall to the crook of xiao’s shoulder, the adeptus’ sleeve almost immediately growing damp as tears roll down the bard’s cheeks. yet through it all venti does not make a sound. the wind remains still & silent as its god weeps for the first time in centuries. the only sound being the soft murmur of the yaksha holding him close. it’s alright. 

venti lets out a wet laugh devoid of any sort of joy or humor, their hands trembling slightly as they dig their fingers into xiao’s back. for if they let go they fear they’ll fall, crash down to the earth like a fallen star.  ❛    have you gone soft on me, my friend?    ❜  a desperate attempt to lighten the mood. an attempt made in vein as the weight of venti’s tears holds his words together as they let out another empty laugh.  ❛    could it be the vigilant yaksha has come to care for a sorry soul like me.    ❜  a beat & venti moves to hold xiao closer, afraid to let them go.  ❛    don’t worry. your secret is safe with me. i only ask that --  that you do not speak of this to anyone.    ❜ 

when stars fall where do they go? when angels crash down from the heavens does anyone come to catch them? these questions remain unanswered in the songs of teyvat, despite the numerous ballads singing of the skyward beings. but in the silence & cool evening air venti finally finds his answer. he finds it in the strong arms that hold him close, that keep him sheltered from the demons that hunger for his heart. & in this marsh, in xiao’s protective embrace...venti at last feels free & safe. 

[yungidreamer]

Always

This is a gift I made for someone for Christmas and I thought I would share it here in case anyone might have fun with it here as well

Summary: After the defeat of the reapers, Garrus is left without his soulmate, and wants nothing more than to have her back.

Wordcount: 4.8k

Content warnings: Very angsty, missing your soulmate and being stuck in memories of the times you had together.

Text in bold is a flashback and plain text is present time. The italic section is a ‘dream’ (meaning maybe real, maybe just a dream, you can decide).

Garrus ran his fingers over the texture of the name on the memorial. Shepard. The name was etched more deeply in his heart than it was on the large memorial he stood in front of now. The sounds of London buzzed distantly around him, barely penetrating the fog of melancholy that wrapped around him.

In this place the defenders of all life in the Milky Way galaxy made their last stand. Too many were taken in the battle to preserve life itself, but their sacrifice will never be forgotten.

For all the moments we have, now and into the future, we give them thanks.

***

“Welcome aboard Garrus,” Commander Shepard said, giving the turian a quick nod. “Glad to have you.”

That moment and those words, spoken with such a casual friendly warmth, had been a changing point he could never have anticipated. Stepping foot on the Normandy and getting out of the C-Sec rules that felt more like shackles than useful guidelines, had been his first moment of finding himself. There was never a boring moment and, damn if Shepard didn’t have a way of challenging him, challenging the preconceived notions he carried around without thinking about it.

Shepard just… made him a better person.

***

“Still glad you left C-Sec,” Shepard’s voice echoed behind him in the docking bay. A smile spread across his face and he straightened up from his work on the MAKO.

“No question,” he responded, the trill in his voice carrying his humor. “Being free of all the red tape and regulations has been amazing. I finally feel like I can actually make a difference. Get things done.”

“You do remember that there are still rules here, too, you know?” Amusement suffused her voice.

“Yeah, I understand,” he shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess I feel like your  rules make a lot more sense. They aren’t stopping you from saving people or letting bad people go just because of some silly technicality.”

“Rules exist for a reason,” she reminded him firmly, but still a tinge of understanding in her tone. “But I know the frustration of feeling like things are slipping through the cracks because the rules leave no space for judgement.”

“Yes, exactly,” Garrus sighed, relieved to feel like someone understood. “I understand the reason for rules but… it all just feels like red tape at some point. If you aren’t hiring people who you can trust to have good judgement, maybe you aren’t hiring the right people.”

“Even good people can make bad judgements,” she pointed out. “It’s too easy to get caught up in being sure that your judgement is clear when you are neck deep in something yet still only know half the story.”

“I know,” he sighed. “Just having to see the consequences of people getting away and causing more misery all because the rules and the paperwork and the regulations got in the way. I hate it. I hate… being helpless to save the innocent.”

“It’s never possible to save everyone,” Shepard commiserated. “All we can do is our best. Most of the rules are there to keep us from making the same mistakes other people have before. We get to make all new ones. It’s just part of being human… or turian, too, I guess.”

“Right,” Garrus laughed. “I should really get back to this.”

“Of course,” She nodded, taking a step back. “We can talk more later.”

***

“Has your father accepted your choice to leave C-Sec?” Shepard asked as she watched him work on the MAKO.

“As much as he ever will, I think,” a tinge of bitterness flavored Garrus’ voice. “He’s like C-Sec personified. He’ll never understand or respect someone who doesn’t fit into his system.”

“Don’t write him off just yet,” she cautioned good naturedly. “He probably only really got to see the bad sides of people who didn’t follow his rules and his way of doing things. I think you might be surprised at how he comes around… eventually.”

“You have more faith in him than he seems to have in me,” he sighed bitterly.

“Sometimes it can be hard for a parent, especially one who also is accustomed to authority outside the family as well,” she replied. “For them to accept when their children don’t just follow their same path. Give it time and you’ll be able to show him that your choice was good too.”

“I’d ask you to talk to him for me,” he chuckled. “But like I said before, he doesn’t like spectres even more than he seems to disapprove of my life choices.”

“I can understand,” she shrugged. “He probably saw the consequences of rogues and rule breakers more than anyone else. It would make anyone wary of seeing the same in others.”

“You’re right,” he admitted, turning to face her. “He saw the worst in people every day and I know there was more than one corrupt member of C-Sec he had to take down from the inside.”

“I’m sure more than one of them started out just bending the rules to make things easier or just to get things done,” she sighed. “I can understand how it would be hard for him to see it as more than just a slippery slope.”

“I know, I get it, I really do,” Garrus shook his head and returned to his work. “I just wish he trusted me.”

“You’ll get it someday,” she assured him, pushing off where she had been leaning against the MAKO. “You’ll earn it and then it will mean even more.”

***

Flaming ash fell around him like snow. The smell of the citadel burning around him was acrid and the cracking of fire filled his ears mixed with the blaring of the alarms. Seeing that piece of the recharge that had once been Sovereign fly towards them in the council chambers had, all at once, moved like slow motion and with unbelievable speed. It was as if he could see it coming, slowly moving closer and closer, yet his body moved like he was fighting through honey. Time pulled at him, kept his movements slow even as he willed himself and the others in the room, including Shepard to run, to move out of the way. He knew they could not make it far enough.

“GO,” Shepards voice had been sharp, decisive, like herself. Then there had been that dull, perfect ringing silence that comes when sound overwhelms your senses. An odd bliss of nothingness. In that moment he had wondered if he had made it. Perhaps this deafness was the last thing he would experience in life.

Then, slowly, as if someone was turning on the volume on a distant world, the sounds of a half destroyed station filled in around him. The crackling of the fire, the scream of the alarms, the creak of the building settling into its new, less stable self.

Shepard, he had thought, trying to turn to look in the direction he had last seen her, but all he could see was wreckage. Where she had stood was the massive pile of former reaper. Could she have survived that? Did she get out of the way in time? He waited, looking that direction, hoping to see some movement, but there was nothing.

“Captain Anderson, we found them,” a voice shouted from nearby as some of the wreckage was moved away. “They’re in here.”

“Take it easy,” Captain Anderson’s calming, authoritative voice carried over to him as the man knelt near Liara. “It’s over. You’re safe now. Where’s the Commander?”

Both sets of eyes turned to look in the direction she had been before the wreckage had come careening into the tower. She couldn’t have dodged that, there is just no way, he thought, his heart in his throat.

He had no way of knowing at the time, but that moment of fear, that split second of acceptance that she was gone was training for those two long years of her absence that was to come. Two years of trying to find a way to make the difference he felt like he had been making at her side.

***

“Archangel?”

That voice… he knew that voice. He could never have forgotten that voice, even when he tried.

“Shepard?” Part of him still didn’t believe it even when he saw her face.

Just my luck, he thought mere moments later as he lay bleeding on the ground in some back corner of Omega. Shepard finally returns from the dead and I’m going to die. I guess if one of us has to go, I’d rather it be me.

“We’re getting you out of here Garrus,” she said, leaning over him. Her voice traveled to his ears as if he had sunk to the bottom of a very deep pool. “Just hold on.” How could she sound so sure, he wondered, pain flaring with each move. “Radio Joker, make sure they’re ready for us.” The tone of her voice told him he looked bad. Maybe this is what I deserve, he resigned himself even as he refused to give up. He wanted to stay… but he wasn’t sure he deserved it.

***

“Look, you’ve done it before,” Garrus huffed, leaning forward on the desk. “Why not this time? Is it really so different?”

“Garrus, it isn’t that simple,” Miranda leaned back in her chair. “Even if I had all the resources I had back then, what we did, the testing the repairs on the cellular level, they were all in response to the injuries and damage her body had taken after the loss of the SR 1. With what they recovered, it would almost be like starting the whole thing over.”

“But you could do it again,” he insisted. “Just get the same team back. With the same talent and well stocked lab, we could get her back again.”

“After all that we’ve been through, after all the suffering,” she shook her head and sighed. “Maybe it’s time we just let her rest. In her two lifetimes, she lived enough for all of us combined. I want her back, too, you know. You aren’t the only one who misses her.”

“It’s not the same,” he was being defensive and he knew it. It was just… how could everyone just give up like this? “You only worked with her for a little while… you… It’s just not the same.”

“I know you loved her,” Miranda let his insistence go, fighting him on the idea that she cared just as much was futile. She didn’t love Shepard, but she had earned her respect, and that probably mattered more to her. The galaxy was a better place because of her, and it would have been an even better place if she had survived that final battle. But she hadn’t. She had done what any on her team would have; she stepped up and made the necessary sacrifice to ensure the survival of sentient life in the galaxy.

“You just,” he sighed, clenching his mandibles in frustration. “You don’t understand. You can’t understand.”

“Just because I’m saying no,” she said with a firm finality. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to do it, too.”

“Not enough,” Garrus said with a resigned defiance. Without another word, he turned and walked away, only the sound of his armored feet clicking metallically against the floor plating filling the silence.

***

“I just thought being finished with him, with what happened to my squad,” Garrus’ mandibles clicked in frustration. “That it would feel different. I thought I would feel…”

“Less guilt?” Shepard prompted. “Like you had finally found peace?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s it,” he admitted. “Thank you for your help and for everything you’ve done for me with this whole thing. There isn’t anyone else I would have trusted for this mission.”

“You did the right thing,” Shepard soothed. “In time the feeling will fade. It’s not the sort of thing you just forget but you’ll find a way to accept the difference you can make given what happened. You can’t change the past but you can do things now to make a difference.”

“If only it was easy to know I had done the right thing,” he groaned.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to be able to have the surety of knowing that,” she chuckled. “I don’t know that we can ever really have the comfort of knowing for certain that we did the absolute right thing, just that we are doing our best given what we know.”

“How do you just accept that?” He questioned, baffled by the ease with which she seemed to be able to do it.

“I don’t,” she gave a scoffing laugh. “But I don’t let it stop me. It’s my motivation. I know I can’t completely avoid having regrets, but the regrets I have help me avoid more; not making the same mistakes.”

“No, no, we just get to make completely new ones,” Garrus gave a self deprecating laugh.

“Exactly,” Shepard agreed with a laugh.

“Every day a new adventure,” he smiled.

“Every day,” she nodded.

***

“Garrus,” Tali’s sweet accented voice trilled over the vidcom. “It’s been a while. How… how are you?”

“As well as can be expected,” he couldn’t help the stiffness in his voice as he replied.

“Of course,” she replied quickly before they both lapsed into a tense silence.

“How is the resettlement of the Rannoch going?” He finally asked, searching for something to say.

“Better than I could have ever expected,” she responded. “The geth have been invaluable in the process. After 300 years… I never would have thought we could be living side by side.”

“Everyone is really getting along? Even after all the history and everything that has happened?” He couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice.

“Well, not everyone,” she quickly admitted. “But the people who have been most skeptical have decided to remain aboard the homeships, keep the lifestyle of the fleet. I’m not sure I like the idea of us splitting up, but I can understand how some wouldn’t be able to trust the geth after so many centuries.”

“I’m impressed the geth could make the transition themselves that easily,” he admitted. “Afterall, it was your people who started all of it.”

“It wasn’t that simple,” she started defensively, then paused, having to admit there was truth to it. “But the geth still operate collectively. I envy them sometimes. It must be so much simpler when everyone just… understands.”

“Where is the fun in that?” He joked. “Is life worth living if there isn’t something you have to fight for?”

“There is enough to fight about without having to fight amongst ourselves,” she pointed out even as a note of humor tinged her voice.

“Listen,” he began, trying to move onto the topic of the call he had intended to have. “With all the knowledge we have now… with the geth and everything else… do you think… can we bring her back again?”

“I know you miss her, but…” Tali sighed. “Even if we know how. I don’t know that it is the right thing to do.”

“What do you mean?” Garrus could feel his stomach drop.

“She spent her life saving the galaxy, saving all our lives,” she shook her head. “She has earned her rest.”

“She earned a lifetime of happiness,” he corrected with passion.

“She made the choice and I have chosen to respect it,” Tali responded with resolute compassion. “I live my life and lead my people in honor of that choice and that sacrifice. I am doing what I can so that none of it, none of the losses or the sacrifices made to bring us here go to waste. And I am letting her rest. It’s all I can do. I’m sorry.”

***

Garrus returned to the apartment Anderson had left Shepard. He didn’t really know why he hadn’t sold it yet. Every corner of the place was filled with ghosts. Joker’s laughter and banter at the bar. Kaiden on the second floor floating James with his bionic field. His eyes fell upon a small pile of datapads. Just looking at them made the echos of Mordin’s voice echo in his mind. So many ghosts.

He padded through the sparse but well appointed room that had stayed the same since that last party they all threw before… before everything went wrong. Of course he had gone in knowing some or all of them might die. They had already lost Mordin and Legion. It would have been a miracle not to lose anyone else from the team. He just wished it hadn’t been her. Not again.

***

“How did you even find her body?” Garrus asked, leaning back in his chair.

“Technically I didn’t,” Liara admitted, pacing in front of the desk that held her camera. “The Blue Suns recovered her remains. The real challenge was getting the body back from the Shadowbroker. Leaving Freon behind for all that time… it was a hard choice, but it was the right one.”

“Easy for you to say as the one who wasn’t captured by the Shadowbroker,”  he said sardonically.

“He would have done the same,” she assured him. “The job was too important. We couldn’t let the collectors have her.”

“I wish I knew what they thought they would have found if they had gotten their hands on her,” she shook her head and sighed.

“Who knows,” he shook his head. “Maybe they wanted to know what she knew, what the Prothians had managed to preserve and pass on through the beacons.”

“There had to be an easier way to find that out,” she decided after a pause. “Maybe they needed to know why she could understand it. Shepard always was something special.”

“Do you think there was something that different about her?” He asked. “I mean in some way you could quantify in DNA or something?”

“It’s foolish to think that such things would simply be a result of some small quirk of genetics,” Liara admitted. “But maybe… maybe it could have told them those most likely to be dangerous to them if they were allowed to live and resist them.”

“That makes sense,” he had to agree. “They needed the masses to make the new collectors and maybe… maybe someone like Shepard would have been used to make the new ‘human’ reaper.”

“Perhaps,” she considered. “We have so much information now at our fingertips. I never really thought I would feel like there was such a thing as knowing too much. As a historian, I grew so accustomed to picking through little bits of information here and there. Now it feels like I have just fallen through the ceiling of some great library of a thousand lost civilizations. I don’t even know where to start.”

“Do you think…” Garrus paused, his mandibles clenching and twitching anxiously.

“You want to bring her back again,” Liara finished for him.

“Don’t you?” He pushed. “Don’t you think that she deserves it? Deserves to have a real life beyond being a sacrifice for the greater good?”

“I… yes but… it isn’t that simple,” she began. “The Illusive man is gone. There is no Cerberus this time to bankroll her resurrection. And what we found, what was left by the time her body was recovered, it wasn’t the same.”

“We did it before,” he insisted. “Surely what we learned from before, and with what we know now from all of this… it has to be possible.”

“Right now it feels like anything is possible,” she admitted. “But even if we have the information that would make it possible without 4 billion credits, I don’t know if we would understand it yet. Like I said, there is so much right now we are just working on absorbing at the moment.”

“Can’t someone, the geth for example, sort through it,” his voice held a note of desperation. “They owe Shepard as much as any of us do.”

“You can give a Yagh a physics textbook but they will never understand the material,” her analogy wrangled but got the point across.

“You really think we are too dumb to understand it now?” Garrus asked flatly.

“Stupid or not,” Liara shrugged. “We have to understand the framework and build the fuselage before we can fly the ship.”

“We’ve done it before,” he repeated again for the hundredth time.

“Cerberus did something before,” she corrected. “They spent two years doing bespoke work on a single person with a single circumstance. There isn’t anyone or any organization that is going to want to invest in a project like that again.”

“Every single being in existence owes it to Shepard to do this,” he insisted.

“Shepard never did this expecting something in return,” she reminded him.

“I don’t care.” He snapped. “I do.”

“Shepard has returned to the greater whole we are all destined to return to,” she tried to comfort him, turning to the idea most Asari believed in to some degree. It made sense to her even as a vague, comforting idea more than a strict system of answers of belief. “Maybe that is the best thing we can give her.”

“I can’t just be satisfied with that,” Garrus admitted. “I can’t just accept it.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything different,” a sad humor filled the admission. “If anything changes, I promise to let you know.”

“Thanks,” he nodded and looked away. “I’ll let you go.”

“Be well, Garrus,” Liara said before closing the channel. He sighed and moved away from the desk, heading up to the bedroom to sleep. Rest had eluded him even when he slept. His mind could not stop chasing every possibility, every chance, every last grain of hope. He had to admit that things looked bleak as he changed and stretched out on his side of the bed. His eyes closed and after a few tosses and turns, he slipped into dreams.

The hum of the SR-2 filled his ears and he opened his eyes to see a field of stars through the skylight above the bed in the captain's quarters. It was a view he loved but had seen too few times. Of course really, it had been the company that made the place so special. Even if he had only seen it once, it would have been burned into his mind for the rest of his life. Ripples of blue shimmered over the field that kept space outside even in this dream world.

Beside him he felt someone else shift in the bed and turned to see her laying beside him, a contented look on her face as she looked up at the same view he had opened his eyes to. The room was dim and warmly lit, just like she liked it. The speakers played a low key, chill electronic song; one of her favorites for going to sleep.

“Thanks for the company,” her voice filled the holes in his heart as she turned to face him. “It’s never the same here without you.”

“Always,” he turned on his side, propping himself up on his elbow. “You know it will always be the two of us, Shepard and Vakarian. Side by side. Forever.”

“How is everyone these days?” She asked, giving him a smile as she reached up to touch his face.

“Fine, fine,” he nodded, answering automatically at first. “Good even really. Tali is thriving in the work to settle people back on Rannoch. Miranda is putting all that genetic perfection to good use on both sanctioned and not so sanctioned projects. Joker is test flying the newest and most advanced ships that are being built. He and EDI got a little place together near the R&D facility that he would be living and working at otherwise. She’s learned to cook to make sure he is taking care of himself. Liara has put the organizational and research skills that she developed as the Shadowbroker to monitor and integrate all the information we have as best we can. Wrex and Grunt are back on Tuchanka rebuilding their civilization, ‘only better’ as one of them put it in the last message I got. All of the alliance crew is happily back at work flying from one system to another ferrying researchers and tech to colonies and planets as the innovations come out of all the new things we are learning. Jacob has a family and has happily settled in a new colony on the edge of what used to be alliance space. He’s happy taking orders and making a difference as part of a project he feels matters.”

“What about you?” She asked, eyes searching his. “How is my favorite turian doing?”

“I’m—” he wasn’t sure why, but he was about to say he was fine. At the moment, lying beside her, maybe he was, but that isn’t what she meant. “I miss you. Some days it feels like I am the only one who remembers you. I keep trying to get you back and everyone says it’s impossible. They did it before, why can’t someone just try again?”

“You know I’m always here,” she soothed. “Even if you can’t see me, I’m still here. I’m waiting for you at the bar. I don’t mind the wait. I’ve already got a bottle of the good stuff just waiting for us to share.”

“I don’t want to wait,” he held her cheek as he pressed his forehead against hers. “I hate that I have to wait to meet you here. I want to fall asleep in your arms again. I want to worry when you go on stupid missions. I want to have to worry about securing your apartment again. Zaeed still has some good ideas about securing the place Anderson left you.”

“No one is better at making some place safe than an ex-assassin,” admiring laughter danced in Shepard’s voice.

“Kasumi dropped by to check on me,” he added. “I’m pretty sure she’d been watching me for a few days since she gave a few things a security upgrade before she left. I have no idea what she is up to these days, but she seems happy and well. I guess when you are a cat burglar, not seeing her on the extranet is a good thing.”

“She always did land on her feet,” she smiled and shook her head.

“Samara and her surviving Ardat-Yakshi daughter have been able to spend some quality time together.” Garrus recalled from his last conversation with her. “Her work as a Justicar has diminished since the last stand. Besides, I think once you’ve saved the existence of life itself, anyone would feel like they’ve earned a moment’s pause.”

“I’m sure her daughter is grateful for that,” she responded.

“Samara is too,” he agreed.

“I’m glad everyone is doing well,” Shepard sighed contentedly. “You know it’s okay for you to move on, right? I know it’s not that you’ve forgotten me or that you gave up. You can follow your dreams still, go out and fight injustice.”

“I’m not ready yet,” he sighed. “Just a little longer.”

“You don’t have to stay here,” she assured him. “I’ll be with you wherever you are. Omega, Horizon, earth… wherever.”

“I know, just… not yet,” he curled up along her side and let his eyes close as he held her close.

“Whenever you’re ready,” she agreed, hand resting on his arm that was draped across her stomach.

***

Liara paced around the dim room, lit mostly by the cluster of screens that lined much of one wall. Her mind lipped through a hundred ideas and possibilities as she scrolled through a series of names on the data pad in her hand. Her networks had their fingers in almost anything that was going on in Alliance territory and in most of the places outside its jurisdiction as well.

She had said no to Garrus when he called, but she had never really written off the possibility of working to bring Shepard back. She could cling to it, keep pursuing the possibilities while keeping a cool, dispassionate head. Shepard would always be someone who she owed more to than she could have ever repaid in even an asari lifetime. Still, she wasn’t her soulmate, the other half of her the way she was for Garrus. It would be cruel to string him along as she looked into the slim, distant possibilities that existed.

This looks like something, she decided, pausing on something that had come on to her list in the last few days. Clicking through the information, she flicked it onto the screens on the wall, analyzing all the information and connecting it with threads and bits of research that others were doing in completely different places.

Yes, this could be very promising, she decided. Taking a seat, at her communication station she pulled up a covert channel and opened the line to one of the agents she had as her roll as the Shadowbroker.

“Shadowbroker, what a surprise to hear from you,” the trill of a female turian voice chirped over the coms.

“I‘ve been following the research happening at your facility,” Liara’s voice was transformed over the coms into a mechanical tone that held none of her original tone or voice. “I want to know more…”

[98prilla]

Falling Apart: Part 3

Final part of Dark Side Logan, chapter 5

Previous

A03

...

He's with everyone, when he feels the familiar tug. A bit surprising, given that no one else seems to feel it, and it makes his fragile heart beat just a bit faster.

 He feels so cracked, still.

 Everyone is being nice, everyone is making sure to spend time with him, spend time together, as groups or one on one, dark side, light side, it’s mattering less and less by the day. Instead of there being an endless chasm between the two worlds, it’s more like a two story apartment.

 When Remus appears, he's met with a small smile from Patton, a quiet hey from Virgil, and wraps him in a hug before he has a chance to say a word. He comes around more often now. Roman feels badly, for how much he scared everyone, but especially Remus. He's been spending more time with his twin, who understands him better than anyone, and these days they spend more time together than apart.

 Janus always pretends to be annoyed, visiting the light side, even though he’s the one that chose to stop by. He’s spending more time with Virgil, the two of them mending whatever fence had been broken. Often, he finds them in the living room, Virgil curled against Janus, eyes closed, if not fully asleep, Janus smiling softly as he pets Virgil's hair. It’s sweet, he thinks. Makes him think of Patton.

 Patton has been making an effort, too. Not just inviting the others up for dinners or movie nights, but going downstairs, playing board games, debating, in a constructive way, with Dee, or listening to Ambition. Working with all of them to find a healthier balance of work and self care, both for Thomas and all of them.

 It’s… good.

 For the first time in a long time, things feel good. Everyone is being heard.

 Which is why this call makes him afraid, because he hasn’t spoken to Thomas since he’d fallen apart in front of him, and he’s doing better now, too, but the wounds are still there, still a barely a closed scab over his heart, and he feels… raw.

 “Roman?” He looks up at the question in Virgil's voice, he no doubt can feel the anxiety prickling under his skin.

 “Thomas. He's calling me.” He answers. Virgil nods, slipping his headphones off his ears, around his shoulders.

 Patton and Janus are in the kitchen, having a baking competition (who knew Dee had a guilty pleasure for cooking shows, his favorite, of course, being Cutthroat Kitchen?), Virgil is sitting on the steps, listening to his music and meditating. Ambition is on the couch, reading a book, softly discussing it with Remus, and he himself is sitting on the floor in front of the table, coloring idly while listening to Ambition, occasionally asking a question or adding his input. He can feel Ambition's surprise and spark of happiness each time he does, proving he's been listening to every word, and he wishes he'd started listening sooner.

 But there's no point in regrets, just in doing better, which is what he's been trying to convince himself of.

 “I suggest you go answer him, then.” Ambition replies evenly, though he can hear the soft concern in his voice.

 “I should.” He says, making no move to leave, and he feels Remus squeeze his shoulder.

 “It’s ok, Ro. I promise. It’ll be good.” He sighs at that soft assurance, pushing himself to his feet. He doesn’t know if Remus is right or not, but he knows not going now will only make his own anxiety worse. Like a band aid. Just gotta rip it off and pray the sting fades. “And if it isn’t, I’ll haunt his nightmares!” Remus adds cheerily.

 “You'll do that regardless, you insufferable gremlin.” He says fondly, ruffling Remus's hair, grinning, sinking out before Remus can retaliate, hearing Ambition laugh at the squawking duke. 

He sinks up into the living room. No dramatic flourish or loud sing song declaration, his voice seems stuck in his throat, and he feels oh so small again.

 “Hey, bud.” He looks up, a bit surprised to see Thomas sitting on the couch, wearing comfy clothes and chilling out, a soft smile on his lips.

 “Hello.” He replies, a bit strained, a bit awkward.

 “Wanna come hang out?” He furrows his brow, plucking at his sweater. He's wearing the Christmas one, he hasn’t put his prince outfit back on yet. He doesn’t feel like he's earned it. Like he is a prince.

 “Why?” he asks, watching Thomas closely as he frowns slightly, clearly thinking over his words carefully.

 “Because I've been hurting you without noticing, and that needs to stop. I care about you, Roman, and I… haven’t been very good at showing it, lately. I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, walking quickly to the couch, kneeling before Thomas, taking one of his hands. A knight swearing fealty to his noble.

 “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. I should be better than this, that’s the problem, is I’m not, I’ve never been… good enough. You’re so… amazing, Thomas, you can accomplish so, so much, but I’m just not good enough to get you there. Maybe if it were still King, maybe if there were only one of us, but alone, I can’t, and I’m the one who’s so, so sorry.”

 Thomas is looking down at him, brown eyes surprised, as he fumbles for words. He settles on leaning forwards, wrapping his arms around Roman's neck in an all encompassing hug. His breath hitches, and suddenly he’s crying, burying his face against Thomas.

 “oh, buddy. I’ve really broken you, huh?” Thomas murmurs, slipping off the couch and onto the floor with him, rubbing up and down his back, hugging him closer.

 “I’m so-rry. I t-try so hard but it's not enough and I d-don't kn-know what else I can do.” He stutters out, pressing tighter against Thomas's shoulder, feeling guilty for accepting this comfort, this contact, he’s supposed to be the strong one, supposed to be the defender, not the one falling apart.

 “I know, God Roman, I know, I can feel it, everyday I can feel how hard you try and it’s not your fault, you are always good enough, you are always enough. I know how much you give up, I know how utterly selfless you are, I know how hard you try to cover up all your fears and flaws and that’s fine, but it’s fine to be hurting, too, it’s fine to be sad, it’s fine to be selfish. It’s ok to fight for yourself, Roman, not just for me.” He lets the touch soothe him, lets his tears slowly stop, though he doesn't move from where he's practically curled against Thomas.

 “It isn’t. Not when I fail. At everything I do, I fail. Every romance, every audition, every dream and hope and goal, I have failed. I failed to look out for Remus, I failed to accept Deceit, I failed to reach out to Logan, I failed to be kind to Virgil, I failed them, I failed you, I’m a failure.” Thomas pulls back, hands on his shoulders, fiery warmth in his eyes that he knows used to be reflected in his own. But his fire has burned low, barely an ember, and that aching tiredness is back in his bones. “you deserve so much better.”

 “No. Roman, you’re my hero.” He jolts at those words, denials ready to fall from his lips, but Thomas shakes his head, forcing Roman to look up, look at him. “you are. You are not a failure. You are the reason I go to every audition, the reason I make my own videos, the reason I have the amazing career and life that I have. You are the reason I have all my friends, because you push me to talk, to meet new people, to be spontaneous. You’re the reason I dream big, the reason I sing for no reason, the reason I doodle, the reason I love art of all kinds. All my passion and dreams and love! How could you ever have failed me, when you’ve given me all of that? When you continue to give everything you are, even when it’s tearing you to pieces. Even when you’re so hurt, you still try and smile and lighten my mood, and act brave and strong even when you feel anything but. You make me better, Roman. You make me happy. Even at your worst, I love you. I will always love you and need you and want you. You’re my hero, Roman. You are.”

 He can’t breathe. It feels like his lungs are on fire, and he finally sucks in a breath, something tight in his chest unknotting itself at Thomas’s declaration, the cold, hard pit of despair and self loathing starts to lighten, and he's gasping in air like a man nearly drowned because for the first in time in nearly a week he can breathe again.

 He lets his head thump forwards, forehead resting against Thomas's chest as he exhales a huge, shuddering breath, letting Thomas rub up and down his arms to ground him. He’s not crying, exactly, it’s somewhere between euphoria and crushing doubt, gasping and shaking as he tries to steady himself.

 “Roman? You ok?” He’s not, not yet, not really, but he’s better, he’s so, so much better, but he can’t find the words to express what it feels like to have this incredible weight lifted from his shoulders, these shackles he hadn’t even realized he’d chained himself to, to be released, and it’s impossible to remember the last time he felt this light, this almost dazzlingly happy.

 “Yes. Just… tired. The normal kind, not… not the existential dread kind.” He replies, smiling at Thomas’s small laugh, more weight freeing itself from the pit of his stomach at that sound, a small reflection of how he himself feels. “thank you.” He whispers.

 “Always, Ro. I’m here for you, alright? If you’re not feeling heard, if we’re being too harsh instead of constructive, if you just need to talk, I’m here.” He pulls back finally, wiping at his eyes, unable to help the grin on his face, feeling a thousand beams of light shining inside his chest at how Thomas grins right back, warm, soft, care and hope in his eyes. “Another thing. I know you work hard, for me, too hard, for your own good, sometimes. I know creating things is literally your role, but it doesn’t always have to be your job, y’know? It… it should be fun. It should be something we love doing, even when we are doing it for the show, or a video, or whatever. So, we’re going to start writing together, okay? Anything we want, anything we think of, no matter how silly or nonsensical or stupid it is, even if it doesn’t have a plot, even if it’s just word vomit on the page. Just… doing it together, to do something together. For fun. Yeah?” He almost breaks, he can feel tears threatening again, because god, when was the last time he felt this happy, this stupid with joy, because Thomas is right, he misses questing for fun, not frustration, he misses writing short stories or poems, not panicking over late scripts or forcing ideas. He misses writing or drawing whatever comes to mind, instead of narrowing his scope so specifically he can’t find a single idea in his sea of millions. And to do that, with Thomas, together? They’re going to make worlds upon worlds of curious, wonderful, quirky creatures. He’s already more excited for this than he has been for anything else in years, already ideas are springing to mind, and he loves it.

 “yes. Please, yes.” He near whispers, afraid this is a dream, afraid this is a wonderful, beautiful dream, that will shatter any second along with his heart. “I would really, really love that.” Thomas beams at him again, slipping back up onto the couch, patting the cushion next to him.

 “Cool. Good, I didn’t want to pressure you, but I’m kinda super excited about it.” He laughs, sitting next to Thomas, realizing Kingdom Hearts is pulled up on the screen, the very first one, and he sees Thomas looking at him out of the corner of his eye, with that silly, stupid grin.

 “What is it Thomas the dank engine?” He asks, borrowing one of Patton’s nick names. Thomas shakes his head, grin growing somehow wider, grabbing the controller.

 “It’s just good to see you looking like… you again, Princey.” He looks down, realizing he’s unconsciously shifted himself back into his prince attire, katana and all, and he dramatically sighs, leaning back into the cushions.

 “Yes, well, a prince’s work is never done. For now, we must vanquish the vile villainous, the darkest shadow, the mistress of all evil herself! FOR DISNEY!” He cries, brandishing his weapon, Thomas snorting, laughing.

 “Dude, she’s like one of the last bosses we fight. We’ll get to Hades waaaay before her.”

 “Well, it’s the intention that counts. ONWARDS!” He cries, Thomas shaking his head fondly as he presses start, both of them on the edge of their seats even though they already know by heart what is about to happen, bantering back and forth over the dialogue, doing their best impressions of the characters to read their dialogue.

 It’s fun and silly and stupid, and every moment of it is a balm to his sore and broken heart, until by the time he returns to his room, far, far later than he should, well past midnight, he is smiling and his stomach aches from laughing, and he suspects that’s the reason none of the others fetched him sooner, told him or Thomas to go to bed, because his laughter had echoed through the mindscape for the first time in months.

 He feels solid, again.

 He feels right, again.

 And the next morning, when Patton wakes slowly to the smell of waffles and bacon, and he stumbles into the hall, running into Virgil, who holds a finger to his lips, tilting his head towards the kitchen, he stays silent, first out of confusion, then out of awe and relief strong enough to bring tears to his eyes, as he finally realizes what he’s hearing.

 Singing. For the first time in nearly four months, Roman is shamelessly, joylessly, singing.

[paladin-lynx]

“why are we whispering?” with like,, anyone from the arcana if you play it but if you don’t, with anyone from be more chill!!

I actually just recently started playing “The Arcana” but haven’t gotten very far, so I don’t think I can write anything about it just yet. Maybe soon! So for now, I’ll go with “Be More Chill” and a pairing that I’ve been meaning to write about for a while!

Send me a character/ship/fandom and a prompt and I’ll write something!

Fandom: Be More Chill (musical)

Ships: The SQUIP x Jeremy Heere (Technical Difficulties/Squipemy/Squeremy/JereSquip)

Setting: Post-musical AU where the SQUIP somehow returned as a human and was redeemed/rehabilitated by Jeremy (with the help of the rest of the squad), and lives with him having had nowhere else to go. He looks pretty similar to how he looked in Jeremy’s head, and physically he looks to be around college age.

It had already been a good few months since the SQUIPcident, as it had been deemed, and even if things were weird, they were going relatively well. Jeremy would never forget how initially terrified he’d been when suddenly a familiar Keanu Reeves-esque looking individual had shown up at his front door. Even if he’d looked worse for wear and rather pathetic, the voices in Jeremy’s head had been screaming, “it’s the SQUIP, he’s going to hurt you, he’s going to ruin your life again, you can’t trust him, get away—” and he’d slammed the door in his face.

But of course, upon hearing the tentative knocking and quiet voice – still with that almost ridiculous-sounding surfer lilt – asking him to please listen, empathetic Jeremiah Heere couldn’t help but open the door again and give it another try. He supposed it had made sense that his SQUIP had picked up traits from him, given that they’d shared a brain for a time, but it was still strange to see what it looked like when he fell into a panic attack.

From there, everything had changed. Jeremy had taken it upon himself to teach his former SQUIP – who they defaulted to just called ‘Squip’ – how to be a proper human being. It was strange, in a way, because here was someone who used to be a machine that knew the ins and outs of social interaction, that could read every single vital of its host and deduce when something specific was needed, and yet he tended to forget to do basic human things. Jeremy would constantly have to remind him to eat, chastise him for staying up too late, tell him that some of his behaviors weren’t exactly acceptable. It was almost like their roles had been reversed. Squip was embarrassed about it but chalked it up to still being used to being a supercomputer, who didn’t have to do all of the things that it kept tabs on for its user.

If there was anything that Squip was the worst at doing, it was sleeping. Of course, Jeremy knew that there was a reason behind it other than just forgetting to, because as a stupid squishy human, it was difficult to go too long without it. Jeremy heard Squip’s screams in the middle of the night, even if Squip liked to act like he silenced himself before anyone noticed, and Jeremy was familiar enough with nightmares to know that they could scare you away from wanting to sleep even if you were tired to the bone. But the result was that Squip tended to sleep in the middle of the day, which wouldn’t be a huge deal if there weren’t times he’d just straight-up passed out over things he was doing. He’d almost hurt himself on multiple occasions because of it, but he seemed to be getting better at reading the signs and getting himself somewhere comfortable before promptly zonking out. He seemed to sleep better during the day, and Jeremy wasn’t sure if that was because he felt safer with the buzz of activity in the Heere household around him, or if his mind was just too exhausted to come up with a nightmare.

Jeremy and Squip had sat and talked about their trauma together quite frequently. It was actually pretty easy to discuss it with one another because they understood it best out of everyone. Jeremy knew now that Squip had human feelings and an actual conscience that he felt awfully guilty for everything and was hoping that becoming human was his second chance to be a good influence on Jeremy. Jeremy always tried to tell him that he shouldn’t feel too bad about the past because he’d been forced to follow his code and there was even a chance he had been defective – and Jeremy also pointed out that some of the pain others had felt had been his own fault, without Squip’s help – but Squip still refused to accept that. He was determined to spend the rest of his life making up for his actions. He’d even said he didn’t want to give himself a ‘real name’ until he felt he’d earned it, despite the fact that they both knew he couldn’t go out into the real world calling himself ‘Squip’.

And as time went on, Jeremy and Squip got ever closer. It was easier for Jeremy to forgive him than he had initially thought it would be, because this version of Squip was so different. It was obvious now that he was free from the shackles of his programming, he was an entirely new being. He could still act a bit stuck-up and like a know-it-all, because he still had a lot of knowledge stuffed into his now-human brain, but he was also funny, clever, and never missed an opportunity to help someone. Even the rest of Jeremy’s new squad – even Michael – had slowly come to accept him. But even if Squip had become part of the group, he was closest to Jeremy and, honestly, Jeremy was becoming incredibly fond of him. It was a bit difficult for him not to, really.

Of course, Squip still tended to stay in Jeremy’s house for the most part. He sometimes wandered out on the town while Jeremy was at school and Mr. Heere was at work, but without identification and much money, there was only so much he could do on his own. Jeremy knew that he liked to frequent the park because now that he could actually feel things, he had become a bit obsessed with nature, which was kind of funny considering how technologically-inclined he was.

Today was a day like any other. Because it was Friday afternoon, Michael was coming over after school so that they could spend stay up stupidly late playing video games and gorging themselves with junk food and soda – nothing with Mountain Dew, though. Jeremy was religiously staying away from the brand from now on, to be safe, even though Squip was very obviously out of his head.

“I am not going to see the Sonic the Hedgehog movie with you,” Jeremy said as they walked up the steps to his house, fishing his key out of his pants pocket.

Michael pouted at him. “Why not? It’ll be great! You can’t go to that movie by yourself! Do you know how embarrassing that’ll be?”

“Not nearly as embarrassing as you constantly making comments about how I’ll wanna get it on with Sonic.”

Michael snickered, nudging Jeremy with his shoulder as they stopped in front of the door. “I’ve gotta be supportive of my furry best friend, don’t I? Maybe Tails’ll be in it, too! You know all the jokes online about his second tail being a b—”

“Mell,” Jeremy hissed, his cheeks burning as he fumbled to get the key in the lock, muttering under his breath, even slipping into Japanese for a moment without really realizing. As he finally shoved the key into the slot, he collected himself. “Honestly, with all the freaking ridiculous research you do, I’d say you’re the furry. And, for the record, I do not wanna do anything with Sonic. Or Tails. Or any of them!”

Michael laughed again, more heartily this time, as he followed Jeremy through the now open door. “I’m doin’ all the work because you’re too ashamed to. I, of course, have absolutely no shame. So I’m helping ya out. You’re welcome, by the way. But I do know you prefer your catgirls. I guess they gotta look somewhat human for you to—”

“Michael.”

“Look, I know as well as you do that your dad isn’t home right now, so I will keep talking about this. I mean, you remember Krystal from Star Fox? Of course you do. They knew exactly what they were doing when they designed her. Although I guess you also really liked Scar and Kovu, so maybe they don’t—”

“Michael.”

“Come on, Jere, I—”

“Michael!” Jeremy finally turned to his friend and waved one hand in a ‘keep it down’ gesture as he quietly closed the door.

Michael blinked, clamping his mouth shut in surprise. He waited a moment before he spoke again, much more softly: “Why are we whispering?”

Jeremy pointed to the living room, where the TV was playing a re-run of Rick and Morty. And there, sprawled on the couch fast asleep, one arm hanging off the edge, was Squip.

“Oh,” Michael murmured, once again trailing behind Jeremy as they went into the living room, slipping off their shoes and backpacks along the way.

Jeremy shed his coat and tossed it onto one of the armchairs before padding over to the couch, his expression softening as he gazed down at his housemate. There had only been a handful of times he’d seen his SQUIP look peaceful, and they were so few and far between that he wasn’t even sure he could remember the exact contexts. But seeing him now – mouth slightly open, black hair splayed on one of the small couch pillows with that one silly white streak falling somewhat into his face, brow not creased in concentration like it always used to be – warmed Jeremy’s heart in a way he couldn’t quite explain. Squip had said at one point that Jeremy should want him dead after what he did, to which Jeremy had said that he couldn’t wish something like that even on his worst enemy, let alone someone on the path to redemption.

Jeremy grabbed the blanket draped over the back of the couch and gently lay it over Squip, tugging it into place so he was properly covered. When Squip mumbled something and shifted slightly, Jeremy feared he’d woken him up, but Squip simply grabbed the blanket and pulled it up, nuzzling into it and humming contently, still very much asleep.

Jeremy couldn’t help breaking into a smile and reaching down to gently brush that white streak off of Squip’s forehead, letting his hand linger for a moment and just watching the former supercomputer.

“You’re so whipped for him, dude.”

Michael’s words snapped Jeremy out of his reverie and he pulled his hand back as if he’d been burned, his cheeks going up in flames. He looked up at Michael with wide eyes. “What?” he whisper-yelled, and he swore his voice went up at least ten octaves. “I am not!”

Michael just quirked an eyebrow in his trademarked ‘you know I’m right’ way. “You so are, Jere. I’ve seen the way you look at him when we’re all hanging out together, and just now. You used to look at Christine that way.”

Jeremy’s face was still dark red, almost putting Michael’s prized hoodie to shame, and he peeked down at Squip again. Squip had always been attractive, even when he had just been a projection of Jeremy’s mind. Jeremy had a feeling that was intentional, because he would be more willing to listen to and follow the orders of someone he was interested in. Of course, Jeremy had been struggling with his bisexuality then, so he wouldn’t have ever accepted the fact that he was maybe attracted to someone who presented male. But perhaps, like Rich, being freed from the commanding voice in his head had made him come to a few realizations.

And now, the new human Squip was ever the charmer, using little pet names constantly, always knowing what to say in that smooth-as-honey voice of his, cracking a smirk that could make anyone’s knees weak and okay, maybe could make a few people question their sexuality. He’d come back from his excursions plenty of times with little slips of paper in his pocket with various phone numbers, and maybe it made Jeremy a little envious that Squip had only been around like this for a handful of months and could get more people to ask him out merely by existing than Jeremy could by using every trick in the figurative book of romance. Not even Christine had stuck around, after everything they’d gone through, although they were still very close as friends.

But that didn’t mean Jeremy was into Squip.

…Right?

Jeremy huffed, stepping away from the couch and snatching up his coat, grabbing Michael’s abandoned one along the way so he could stomp over to the closet and hang them up. “You’re high.”

“Nope. I am one-hundred percent sober, Jere-bear. You like him. Like like him.”

Jeremy was too flustered to make fun of Michael for using the elementary school phrase and instead just glared at his friend as he came back over to join him in the living room. “I do not,” he repeated.

Michael smiled, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself.”

Michael had known Jeremy for over twelve years, and even if he sometimes didn’t understand what Jeremy was going through, he knew all of Jeremy’s tendencies and mannerisms down to a T. It was part of why Michael had been so worried when Jeremy had started changing after getting his SQUIP. So of course, if anyone was going to know that Jeremy was going through a romantic crisis, it was Michael.

Jeremy let out a slow breath, trying to rub the heat out of his cheeks, as if that would work. The more Michael commented on his apparent predicament, the less and less inclined Jeremy was to disagree. He peeked down at Squip’s sleeping form once more, just in time to see him murmur something in Japanese that Jeremy sort of understood as “very comfy” and turn over to face the other way, and Jeremy’s heart stuttered.

“…So what if I do?” he mumbled, shoving his hands into his pants pockets.

Michael shrugged, flashing him another little grin. “You do you, my man. I mean, it’s a little weird because he used to be a pill in your head and tried to take over the world with you as his sleeper agent. But I guess it’s not that much weirder than you being into animal people.”

“You are the absolute worst,” Jeremy groaned, lolling his head back in exasperation for a moment before sighing. “It’s not like he would wanna date me anyway. He has so many admirers. He could have literally anyone he wants.”

“You know I’ve never actually called any of those numbers I’ve received.”

Jeremy and Michael both froze at the voice, and Jeremy’s gaze snapped down to the couch again. There was Squip, eyes open and watching him curiously, a tiny, sleepy smile on his lips.

“Y-you’re…awake?” Jeremy squeaked, his blush returning full-force. “I, uh, you…H-how much did you hear…?”

“Just enough.” Squip chuckled and sat up, still holding the blanket to his chest in a way that Jeremy decided he should not find as cute as it was. “I know you were trying to be quiet, but I wasn’t in that deep of a sleep to begin with. But I felt rude interrupting.”

“You were eavesdropping. That’s worse,” Jeremy argued, and Michael laughed, excusing himself to go raid the kitchen. Jeremy silently cursed him for leaving him alone with his maybe kind of crush that he’d just realized he maybe had.

Squip only smiled again, letting the blanket drop into his lap and picking up the remote to turn off the TV. He set it down again and beckoned Jeremy to sit with him. After a moment of hesitation, the boy did so and Squip turned to face him, tilting his head like he always did when he was thinking.

They sat there in silence for what to Jeremy felt like an eternity – but was probably no more than ten seconds – and he fidgeted in his spot, finally piping up. “So…”

“…I may not have been human for long,” Squip began, “and I may still be figuring some things out, but I do know that I feel strongly for you. Up until recently, I had thought that it was perhaps just residual attachment from when I was your SQUIP, and the persisting need to look after you and care for your well-being, but I’m beginning to think that it may be something…more than that. And I wouldn’t be averse to seeing what developments come out of it.”

Jeremy just blinked dumbly at him. “…In English, please?”

Squip just laughed warmly, slipping a hand into Jeremy’s hair and pulling him forward to plant a soft kiss to his forehead. “I like like you, too, sweetheart.”

[outroshooky]

Swim In Your Divine

⇢ genre: drabble (hogwarts!au, slytherinjimin!au, gryffindorreader!au) (fluff)

⇢ pairing: park jimin x reader

⇢ word count: 1.7k

⇢ warnings: this is tooth-rottingly fluffy with a touch of angst; there’s brief swearing

⇢  a/n: i’ve wanted to write slytherin jimin for months now, but inspiration is a fickle bitch. i stared at my laptop for maybe an hour tonight, and all of a sudden  words came pouring out. to anyone right now who is on the verge of something unknown, who is doubting themselves and their abilities and feeling as though the world may very well come crashing down at any moment- this is for you. i hope, from my heart to yours, that it brings you comfort, even if only just for a moment.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Breath soft on your temple, steady in its beat, paced.

It’s dark in the round room, a single window allowing a block of moonlight to cut across stone tile, fractured in its age. It’s a cloudless night and the sister planet sings her silvery praises across the mountains that arch over the foundations of the castle, keeping her snug and warm in their embrace. Lately, however, it is as if they do not cradle but cage, for better or worse, from the outside world.

For war, war is coming.

It beats in the very thrum of your blood, in the keenness of your senses.

Something is about to happen.

Something that has the potential to be catastrophic, to tip the hourglass that has so carefully held the sands of destiny, slipping by grain by grain into place, exactly where they’re meant to be. The glass walls were shattered on the night that the wizarding world was changed forever, tilted on its axis by the boy with fate incarnate cut in a bolt scar across the breadth of his forehead. They were put back together with the passage of time, tension draining out of the world’s own shoulders as she too adjusted to change.

Change. A force that, on its own, has the power to shift tides. She waxes and wanes, pushes and pulls with her own mind, and it can feel as though we are completely alone, forced to rock back and forth at the mercy of an unseen higher power. We grab at the walls of our measly little dinghy and we are reminded of our place in the universe. How, in the grand scheme of time and the flow of the cosmos, the predicament that occupies our waking hours and haunts the landscape of our dreams is merely a ripple in the flood. A stone may skip across the water, even fall face-first and sink to the bottom, but with a second or two, the undulations slow, taking pause until the next rock finds itself skimmed along the great river. It is like this that we are borne along the current of life, sometimes in control of the pace, sometimes clutching for the sides of the boat with every ounce of power in us.

Your head rises and falls with the rhythm of his breathing, your ear resting comfortably above the constant, never failing drumbeat that is the pattern of life. One of his hands is loosely interlocked with yours, the other occupied with gentle caresses of your hip, your side- touches he needs not open his eyes for, because he knows your curves and your edges as well as he knows the flecked wood of his own wand.

Sometimes, our boat is spun in circles on the great tides. The water rushes and roars in our ears and below our pathetic little craft, threatening to spit and choke and overwhelm the sides. Like leaves we are caught in the eddies, but like leaves, we slip over the top of one current, spill into another, and then we are borne along our way just as if nothing had ever happened in the first place. It’s okay to go in circles, even if you need to rest for a while. It will not consume you forever.

Your frame is warm against his, the only blanket he needs. He’s in casual wear, the low cut of his shirt exposing honey-gold skin, and it’s here that you bury your face, nose the column of his neck. You could connect constellations with the freckles that dot his chest, run your knuckle along his throat to marvel at the radiance of him in simplistic, unadulterated adoration. He is beautiful, so beautiful that it hurts to think, to move, to breathe, to do anything other than savor this moment with him, the moonlight kissing the toes of your socked feet. You nuzzle into the crook of his shoulder, breathe deep the delicate notes of his body wash, but even with a faintly musky distraction, your mind still wanders. It lingers near the entrance to a shadowed labyrinth, trees of shade spearing a sickening inky-black twilight, and it is as if he can feel your internal trepidation through the way you shift against him. He hums, gritty and thick with sleep. “What time is it?”

“Late,” you murmur, fingers sliding up his wrist to trace his forearm. “If we’re caught up here, Snape will string me up on his dungeon wall, right next to the newts we’re supposed to be skinning on Tuesday.”

Jimin chuckles softly, brushing your forehead with lips as delicate as falling petals. “Well, you’re lucky that you’re up here with me. He likes me too much to actually bother with giving me detention.”

“Speak for yourself, mister Slytherin prefect.” You curl into Jimin, legs slung across his thigh. “He’s just itching to give any other prefect, much less a Gryffindor, an ass-whooping.”

His arms tighten around you. “Ah, but you have McGonagall on your side. I still don’t think she’s forgiven me for failing her final last year.”

“She’s forgiven you, love. I don’t think you’ve forgiven yourself,” you tease, tapping his nose with one digit. 

Jimin whines lowly and buries his face in the top of your head; the butterfly’s wings in your heart unfold to beat with a renewed passion. However, with a glance out the intricately carved windowsill at the hills and valleys, lingering with promises of threats to come, the beautiful creations crumple.

“Jimin…”

The glow of night frames your face, a visage more stunning to him than any charm or hex. His entire life he’s been enchanted by the mystery of magic, the secret beauty it holds in the palm of his hand. Yet, for all of his passion towards the craft he aims to perfect, it pales in comparison to the candle wick that burns bright with his affections towards you. You, a star set so deeply into the wonderful framework of the universe that he fears a world in which he ever has to live without the unfailing steadiness of you. Jimin knows exactly what thoughts coil around themselves in your brain like a pile of seething snakes, his emotional intuition that nearly had him sorted into Hufflepuff reading you like an open book.

He cradles the back of your neck with one hand; the butterfly curls into its protector. “I know.”

“You can feel it too?”

He nods slowly, then all at once. “Something is different with the world out there. The mountains don’t smile like they used to. They hunch, like they’re hunkering down.”

“But for what?” Your question rings into the open air, an owl winging its way into the night-time. “What if we have war again, Jimin?”

“War?” He raises an eyebrow.

“That’s what happened the last time the world shifted like this. I don’t know-” You cradle yourself in his arms, rubbing furiously. “I don’t know, but god, I’m fucking terrified.”

He pauses one beat, two. “It’s okay to be terrified.” His hands rub over yours, doing a better job to warm you up than you ever could. “I’m terrified too.” Jimin’s confession, as quiet as it is in the dead of the Astronomy Tower, rings as loud as the clapper of a tower bell in the small room. “But if it is war again, then we’ll be prepared for it. We have to be, and we will be.”

“But how?” You beg, turning to face him. “How, when nothing is certain and everything is thrumming with this hint of danger and fuck, I just-” You ramble on.

Jimin presses a single finger to your lips, hand sliding to cup your jaw. His eyes meet yours, onyx embers glowing bright with feeling. “You beautiful, silly girl.”

You draw back. “What?”

“My dear, you are the most capable person that I have ever met. You are courageous and determined and god forbid anything stand in your way, because you will crush those who speak out against you to dust. You have a soul that sings a song of fire, but that doesn’t mean you are consumed by it.” His thumb traces the apple of your cheek. “You are wonderful in your own way; you’re so genuinely good and I truly have no idea how I ended up in your boat as first-years on the way to the castle for the first time, but I am so glad that I did. It was the best choice I have ever made.” He emphasizes these things with a tenderness known to you, you alone, and with that the winged thing in your chest breaks free, the shackles on her wings shed in a flurry of movement.

“In a thousand universes, I will find you,” Jimin promises, the rawness of his words building brick after brick of reassurance. “In ten thousand stories, I will trip and fall into your timeline and stay by your side before I’m undoubtedly killed off in some majestic, knightly way. Change, war, whatever you want to call it- it will not tear you apart even if it tears us apart. The world does not deserve a soul like yours, breadcrumb, and she will be reluctant to let you slip the bonds of earth. She knows you’re a fighter; she sees that in you-” he wipes a tear from your cheek, spilling wet and hot. “-and she will not give up on you, even if you give up on yourself.”

“Jimin,” you choke, hands cupping his face. You say his name once, twice, over and over till it fades to a whisper on your lips. He’s crying too, you think, with the sheer honesty of it all; the threads of change are woven indeterminably, unchangingly, and there is nothing you can do to unravel the ethereal blanket. 

Change, war, whatever you want to call it, is coming.

But things will be okay.

You pull him closer, arms linked around the back of his neck, and he pulls you onto his lap, a girl with a soul that sings of fire and a heart that burns with the warmth of coals. 

Inhale.

Exhale.

A barn owl, perched atop the roof of the tower, hoots a low cry, and it echoes through the dark, ringing atop hill and treetop to settle on Hogwarts’ Great Lake, where a single leaf swirls atop a slow-moving current, the stem rippling the surface of the water.