#I am probably just gonna read dawn of the clans then not read anything for another 8

[alien--denizen-blog]

Honestly Idk if this is a sin but

I’ve been into warrior cats since I was 11 and I haven't really read past the first arc. I just didn’t and now I feel like a lost old man.

[probably-haven]

Hello!

So I’m the anon who asked for more Archon War Venti headcanons and I just loved it! I really like reading your headcanons cuz some of them are similar to mine but mostly are headcanons that I didn’t think of so it really is nice to read and see your thoughts about Venti!

I feel like as if I’m asking too much but could you keep doing these types of headcanons? Like it doesn’t have to be Archon War headcanons but like some headcanons about Venti’s relationship with the Ragnvindrs and Gunnhildrs. Because the first Gunnhildr was the first one who prayed to Barbatos and the first Ragnvindr was his friend who left but came back and I really wanna hear your thoughts on that!

And I’ve decided to get off anon cuz you just replied to my texts and I wasn’t expecting that so I’ve got a short confidence boost that I am completely taking advantage of! And thanks for the advice! or uhh comment? observation? I’m not entirely sure but thank you for that! I’ve heard that be said to me a few times and I have been trying to be more, uhh, assertive so thanks for that!

rfouierjkhfkecs i actually came across information on Gunnhildr and the "Red-haired warrior" yesterday when i was doing more research into the rebellion against Decarabian and I was like "wow this would be really fucking fun to research and theorize on, but its too specific/niche to include unprompted no matter how much i want to" but bestie you prompted, and im literally so happy right now because I didn't think I'd ever really get the chance to post about them!

also lmao yeah, i tend to try and reply to as much as I can, since it's a good feeling when someone does and all. but yeah, no problem! I’m glad you felt confident enough to reveal XD. 

This may be structured a bit more like analysis/theory/just citing canon things at first before it gets into a more headcanony format.

ehe i have so much free reign on this it's lovely

More Archon War Era Venti: one two three

spoilers for Venti's backstory and Diluc's(kinda, i think, just in case)

first things first, laying down some canon background because before yesterday i hadn't heard of either of them outside of that one cutscene.

the very reason Decarabian had his storm wall up in the first place was because at the time Andrius had declared war on him- and his tower, and the city of Mondstadt by extent, were basically constantly under attack by Andrius's blizzards, which since he was still alive back then, were a lot bigger and covered basically what seems to be the whole of Mondstadt outside the barrier.

This meant that people had two options. Live in the city under Decarabian's oppression, or live outside the barrier, and brave the blizzards of a warring god... which was not a good idea

but the Gunnhildr clan(not yet called that) tried- and they almost died because of it. In the midst of a blizzard, the clan chief's daughter, named Gunnhildr(which the clan would be named after later) sent out a prayer that was heard by a wandering wind spirit. And the faith of that prayer gave the spirit enough power to create a small shelter to protect them.

When her father past, she became the new leader and also a priestess. She would later lead the clan to fight Decarabian alongside four others. And basically the Gunnhildr Clan ended up as like sworn protectors of Mondstadt

-

as for the red-haired warrior, who is basically assumed to be the earliest known ancestor of the Ragnvindir clan(im gonna refer to as Ragnvindir for convenience sake, even though "Ragnvindir" is technically a different character from Vanessa's era)theres not much information on him, but heres what i have from the various wiki's

- he was a wanderer

- one of the first to use the sign of windblume to find other rebels(so he's intelligent)

- actively propped up the nameless bard so he could watch as the tower was destroyed

there's this little tidbit too from the Windblume Ode bow's description that im probably gonna talk about a considerable amount too: "Atop the ruins of the ancient tower, amidst the cheers, songs, and tears of those who had newly won their freedom. A red-haired warrior turned his back on the newborn god, hidden like a single raindrop in a tidal wave of humanity. He was first among those who passed the secret sign of Windblume, the one who wove threads of dawn throughout the long night. His name has since been lost to time, but his deeds are still remembered in song." followed later by "The fate of this clan will likely never change: they shall ever live in the darkness and bring forth the flame of dawn."

-

Now I'm going to start with the Ragnvindir(geez, why's it spelled like that tho)

My idea of his character is basically formed by a mix of Ragnvindir stereotypes and just generally analyzing text.

So what do we know about Ragnvindir's for sure? they are shady motherfuckers- or at least they rarely operate in the spotlight. also damn, these guys are more cursed than anemo vision wielders- like the only one who didn't canonically lose someone close to them was Crepus, but considering that Diluc doesn't exactly have a mom..... he probably did

so what do we know? - he was close with the nameless bard - he was intelligent - he likely operated primarily from the shadows "ever living in the darkness" - he was a wanderer - he abandoned Venti during the celebration - but his deeds were still remembered in song, so Venti and him were likely still close

now the question of the century: how will i choose to interpret "turned his back on the newborn god"? And honestly, I'm- not sure- at first i assumed he abandoned him completely- but Venti did still make sure to carry on his memory- which could just be Venti being Venti, but for the sake of sanity, this is how I'm interpreting it.

A lot of things happened to the Ragnvindir that day. He lost a friend, saw another become a god to replace the one they had conquered, and he saw his goal, his reason for being in Mondstadt, come to fruition. "see the world through my eyes" the bard had said, and the Ragnvindir had been a wanderer even before. Sure, the people had won freedom, and that was to be celebrated, but he's intelligent to recognize that people would likely see him as one of the key figures in leading the rebellion. And for him this was a solemn time, and ending to a chapter, and not being one to operate in the spotlight, the last thing he'd want is to be swept up in festivities and attention at a time like this.

It also likely didn't help that he's probably smart enough to understand the idea of "power corrupts," and seeing the wind sprite just readily accept the mantle of Archon was likely not the most comforting thing to happen in the given situation after all. But Decarabian was gone, and Andrius had ceased his blizzards, so without a word, he slipped into the crowd and left, a wanderer once more.

-

now back to Gunnhildr

she was the first to receive an anemo vision from Barbatos, no I do not take criticism on this "the power bestowed on her by Barbatos" like please, they basically said it.

It also mentions that she crowned Venti with laurels(symbol of vistory) after the battle- the book Biography of Gunnhildr additionally says "the Gunnhildr Clan will continue honoring the legacy of its ancestors and its duty to the Anemo Archon: to protect Mondstadt, the land and all who inhabit it, forever."

I really like this because it conveniently ties into my past headcanon about Venti granting visions to the people of Mondstadt and having them be the ones to erect wind barriers and defend the city in his absence.

So in the Archon War I like to imagine that the Gunnhildr clan had a lot of people who were actually granted visions and were basically in charge of protecting it from those who would attempt to ambush them.

Mondstadt essentially became known for this- the fact that the mortals within it were strong enough to fend off the force of a god without support from their own.

but regardless, Gunnhildr, as she had before, served as a priestess to Barbatos, the closest thing that Mondstadt had to a ruler, and yet she only took charge of prayer and protection.... i hate to just- equate them to their descendants- but to an extent- her role was kind of like a merge between Jean and Barbara- Except with a whole lot less structure.... i really dont want their characters to just be carbon copies of the descendants but- c'mon, the comparison was right there.

anyways besties- back to Venti so i can tie them in

The Archon War was one of the worst times for Venti in his entire life thus far. And the time immediately after Decarbian's fall, while Gunnhildr and the Ragnvindir were still alive, was the key period of time in which things could have gone very differently.

Venti is the god of freedom. That's a reoccurring theme and I think I've made that abundantly clear. But during this time, Venti was anything but free.

I've mentioned before how he would stay far from the city of Mondstadt so the shockwave of his death wouldn't reach him, should he fall.... well- Venti is new to a lot of things- godhood- humanity- war- freedom- and at this point he was trying hard to figure out how to be Mondstadt's god without becoming Decarabian, and while still being able to survive, and make sure they survived, and see the world for his friend, and carry on his friends legacy.

And this is a lot of stuff for what was once a carefree elemental being, and there were certain things that had to be done for this to happen. He couldn't just stay in Mondstadt, or he would grow weak and his people would be vulnerable to attack, but he couldn't abandon it, because despite being able to fend for themselves, there's always hat just in case. He couldn't stay in any one place outside of Mondstadt for very long or he'd be found and killed. He knew in order for Mondstadt to survive he would have to take an active role in the war, strengthen himself so he could defend Mondstadt, and thats exactly what he did.

He started by going after the less powerful gods, ones he had a chance at beating with the power he got from the Gunnhildr clan and the rest of Mond, and by wiping them out, he would grow stronger, so he kept it up- working his way up the metaphorical ladder.

but he couldn't let anyone near him either, because he knew just what would happen if he was attacked then. Were it not for Gunnhildr's prayer, the early years of the Archon War would have been without contest the loneliest time of his life, and there would be nothing he could do about it, bound by survival and his attachment to the legacy of his friend, constantly fearing for his life and going against his very nature as the god of freedom. Frankly thrust into that circumstance that early on, and having to face it alone, it's likely that Venti would have caved under the pressure and dropped his attachment to either his survival, or to his friends legacy... or just something entirely worse(isolation messes with brains) so I'm attributing the fact that he didn't do that to Gunnhildr's companionship, speaking to him and guiding him through it as he had guided her through the blizzard some time ago.

I also like to think that she's responsible for founding at least a number of the different celebrations that still happen in Mondstadt even now.

Ugh supportive warrior priestess- we stan

anyway meanwhile! we got the Ragnvindir

He hears about Venti taking part in the Archon war during his wanderings and returns to Mondstadt to check in, wary of what he might find.

Venti, who hadn't seen him since the rebellion, is elated to say the least and they do a bit of catching up because they need it

and then the conversation turns more serious, and the Ragnvindir brings up a third thing that Venti needs to hold onto- his humanity.

See, in the early years, just desperate to get a foothold on the world, Venti's first number of targets were just indiscriminately going after those he knew to be weaker than him, and the Ragnvindir points this out, saying that while it's not necessarily bad, if he keeps doing it, it won't be long until he causes his and, by extent, Mondstadt's legacy to be tainted by a reputation for slaughter, no better than any of the other bloodthirsty gods that frequented the war's fields. "Think of what the bard would do, we were both close enough to do that much"

And Venti becomes yet more caged, but recognizes that he's right, and this is another turning point, that in the coming years would keep Venti from losing himself.

also- Gunnhildr, Venti having told her about the Ragnvindir's concerns that he now shared, probably organized some kind of event (not unlike the right of part, but also, yes unlike it) that was deliberately intended and designs to serve as an excuse that Venti could chose to take to visit Mondstadt, something she know he desperately wanted to do, but wouldn't allow himself for fear of putting them in danger. But if she made it an official celebration, then it would give Venti the opportunity to visit his people again, under the guise of it being a responsibility, not having to deal with the moral implications of doing so at a time when he was already dealing with enough of those already.

Also on his travels, the Ragnvindir probably started and spread a number of rumors that could end up working in Venti's favor, not that anyone ever knew it was him of course.

basically Gunnhildr protected the people of Mondstadt and did all she could to keep everyone in as high spirits as possible, Venti included.

And as for the Ragnvindir, he took a more realistic approach, traveling and getting venti followers in far places, spreading false information about him, and just overall making sure that Venti didn't do things he'd regret.

And when they died, Venti would carry their legacy with him as well, not losing his humanity to the tide of war as he very nearly had(though he still often came close), and trying to spreading high spirits where ever he could without fail.

[monika-red-diary]

Hold Me (Chapter 1)

First story, so don't crucify me on grammar. It's gonna be a few chapters before we get the M rating from the story we all deserve. I don't own Naruto or these characters. I forgot what else you're supposed to put in these intros. Leave a review. Help me grow, enjoy the story.

Chapter 1: A Foreign Chess Match

We've finally started. We had built it together, and it's something beautiful. It's a spectacle Hashirama and I dreamed of when we were just children. And it was, for me, what I had dreamed of and envisioned during the war, what I desperately hung onto and strived for. I'll miss that wide view filled with trees, forage, and general greenery dearly. But happiness overtakes the imminent nostalgia. Building like this, after years of searching for an end, a peaceful resolution, extremely gratifying.

Can't help but reflect. It's all I ever wanted. And I'm glad that instead of just words, we were actual able to see it all within our lifetime. As much as our lives depend on passing things down to generations after us, history upon history, building and growing and evolving over time, I'm glad it's finally coming to an end. This difficult chapter of bloodshed can come to a close. I do wonder when the next time conflict will arise; but for now, I will enjoy peace. Hopefully. The feel, the sight, overbearing. Crisp leaves, the sun's light only slightly dimming as it partially touches the horizon.

And the sound of happy families everywhere we look. It's almost paradise. And the most wonderful part, I'm allowed to have my mind is at ease. I feel I can relax myself for the first time since Hashirama and I met. I turned to my left to see that man, whom I shared this dream with. The optimism, the pure life and exuberance, the very radiation of joy that emanates from the man currently at my side. I look at him with immense adoration.

Both of us played an equal role in an equal part in creating this, yet I can't help but feel like I'm basking in his shadow. A glowing picture of light incarnate. I'm shocked that I was able to move past my feelings for him. The only man I gave my adoration in this world of Shinobi. Wanting to give more, I couldn't show any. Hashirama's the only one I can claim to be a true friend of mine. I've lost all my brothers to this war.

Struggling to keep hold of my sanity, to keep my joy, to hold my peace and to be there for others all at once. Being the leader of the Uchiha clan, it's kind of a daunting task; I'm not a socialite like he is. But I'll manage.

Hopefully…

With all the fighting, with everything I've had to endure in my life, I've never stopped to consider what or who I am. And what I truly want after peace comes about.

It may have been made obvious by this point; I think a little too much about my surroundings. I just overthink in general. Hashirama sees it as a strength, but I have trouble seeing his point as I now realize that I've been too distracted with my thoughts to notice him almost yelling at me.

"Hey… Madara!" Almost patronizing, and had it been anyone else, it's highly plausible that I would have just torn them apart to save myself the embarrassment of the situation. One look at his concerned face however and my defensive auto pilot calmed itself down.

"Don't take that tone with me Hashirama," I bit back, maybe a bit harsher than I intended. Okay… It may be very slightly possible that I still need to work on my anger. I wouldn't say I have anger issues. I'm just a grown man who feels that when people step on me, I need to have the last word so they know not to do it again. Is that too much to ask? I still have some growing to do.

A truly discontent and apologetic look lied in Hashi's eyes, and his face, and his entire demeanor, very telling. I clearly brought him down. Yep, there are definitively some issues of mine that need sorting out. A pang of guilt washes over me.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you Madara."

"You think you can scare me?"

As soon as the offending bit of intended banter leaves my lips, I felt idiotic for letting it slip out. It probably came off as insecure too. Why can't I be a normal person? Why is small talk only outlandish fantasy for me?

"No, and it wasn't my intention to try and scare you either. But I did have to speak loud considering this is the third time that I've called your name. What are you thinking about?" Suddenly too embarrassed to speak, a retort becomes far too difficult to muster. Not only had I managed to miss Hashirama calling me while staring directly at him, but now the very rare occurrence of my cheeks flaring is giving me away.

I quickly look back to the front of me, the back Village in view; very caught off guard and flustered, it feels impossible to think of something to say.

"Never mind that, just tell me what you had to say," is all I could blurt out in my failed attempt to save face. Out of the corner of my eye, I witness Hashirama's face jump from puzzled to annoyed to inquisitive, before he internally drops the matter entirely and settles on bored of all things. Am I boring you Hashirama? But before I could blurt out anymore, Hashirama interrupts my train of thought a second time.

"Madara, the people need someone, and I want that to be you. During this war, while both of our clans payed dearly, you've had to suffer more than I. And while we've both wanted this for the same amount of time, you clearly have more passion for the role. What I am saying is, I would like you to be appointed the leader of this Village."

My unconscious reaction was to fully face my body towards him, paralyzed in shock. What. The. Hell. I've never heard anything so scripted. I know Hashirama likes to sound stoic in his speech when he's trying to command a room, but he's really putting me on the spot here. How does he expect me to react to all of that? Facing me, sternly looking me dead in the eye, it's clear that he expects an answer right this moment. Got to buy myself some time to read the situation.

"Do you have a name for that yet?"

"What?"

"For the leader of the village. Am I stuttering?"

"Oh, I'm just thinking of the Hidden Leaves Village Leader. You like it?" I almost fucking cackled in front of him. And while I did a good job of not reacting to the name, somehow, I think he could take a wild guess about what was going through my head. It was plain obvious that I didn't like the so-called "name" he came up with.

"Oh-oh wait! What aboooouuuuttt…. Hidden Leaf Village Elder? Hehhh? What about that?" He was gleaming in pride as he said it too. I couldn't stop it; I was already holding my sides before he could finish his sentence. Choked air pushed past my nostrils after a botched attempt to keep my chuckles to myself. Why does he do this? This would not be the first time he's pitched an idea this poorly and acted like it was a legitimate award-winning gem. Oh my god.

"That's an awful name. Why are you so bad at these things?" A genuine question I, to this day, cannot find an answer to. Maybe he shouldn't be trusted to run a village.

"I know…"

Hashirama now in his depressed manic state. Meanwhile, a burst of full out laughter erupts out of me. You know, one could call it evil to shoot down his friend's ego. I would call it mission complete, considering I now have Hashirama distracted for 30 seconds to ponder his initial offer before he questions me again. And I like to believe that I'm a quick enough thinker. Okay, what do we know?

Hashirama doesn't want the position himself. Of course, this is rooted in general concern for the Village and his genuine belief in me. However, I can't ignore that there are likely some ulterior motives. Nothing too grand or evil. But we do know that as tired as I am with fighting and war, Hashirama is just as tired with the bonus of being naturally lazy, all things considered. And with the obvious lack of introspection and critical thinking shown in things like his naming ability, you can see why he lacks confidence in his ability to lead the Village. But above all else, the most incriminating piece of the puzzle is that we all know Hashirama to be a HUGE COMPULSIVE—

"GAMBLER!" I shout directly at him all the while pointing my finger to the accused person of interest. Clearly confused and still depressed, fake tears continue rolling down his face as it finally dawns on me what his motives are.

"You're MEAN!" A grown man, I almost want to laugh, but I've got a mystery to solve.

"Oh no, don't try to change the subject now. I see what you're up to Hashi! You want me to be the leader so that you don't have to be responsible for anything! In fact, you're probably hoping I'd peddle money to you in complacency with your damn gambling issues and alcohol problems!"

*Intense gasp*

"HOW COULD YOU SAY THAT?" The once mirroring streams of crocodile weeping are now two matching lakes. He thinks his puppy dog eyes are going to get him out of this one.

After turning back to the village and giving him half a minute to collect himself and clean up his bad acting, I receive a pull on my right shoulder. As I'm turning back to face him, I'm taken aback at how close he got. I wanted to walk back a foot or two to put space between us, but somehow, he's got me stunned and locked in place, lost in his brown pools of light. A moment of silence is held between us, both of us still thinking, not fully knowing what to say. At least I don't feel so lost. It's in these moments that I feel saved by him.

As typical and casual as this conversation (in my mind at least) may seem, I feel very honored that he would bring this all to my attention. That he acknowledges me as a possible suitor for that role, let alone his sole choice. Not only that, but thinking more about it, I can guess with full confidence that I'm the first and only person he's talked to about it.

However, I want to share that role with him. I believe that people could respect him if he did it on his own. I wouldn't get that same respect though. I wouldn't be able to do it alone. I wouldn't even want to do it alone, and while I may have been able to cast aside my feelings for him, I objectively would need his help for something like this. Sometimes, in my mind, I imagine my life without him. And I imagined the scenario that people would not have taken my declaration of a peace treaty seriously in such a universe without Hashirama. I need his help.

"Hashirama, let me ask you something. Why would you assume that I am the better person for this role rather than yourself? It seems to me that you just want to seem humble. How am I to suspect that you don't actually want to do it? Maybe you're just trying to use reverse psychology so that I urge YOU to do the role, with no further competition from me." I proceed to cross my arms in a defensive stance. The accusation itself wasn't so baseless and out there that I regret saying it; it wasn't that great of a case to build in the long run. And it also takes away from what I want to know.

"No, Madara it's nothing like that. You know me. And I know you. And I've seen what's in your heart. I'm not willing to call myself stupid, I do have to admit though, you are the more tactful and careful one out of us two. You would not leave this Village astray. Whereas I wouldn't be what the Village needs to be most. I couldn't do it on my own."

"Then we could do it together. Did you ever consider that Hashirama? Why haven't you considered there being multiple leaders?"

"No, it must be one, this is the first time any Village has been established ever, and before others follow suit, the system needs to be done correctly. We can't tinker with the idea of multiple leaders the first time around, especially when we're the leaders of our respective clans. It could lead to conflict down the road over which clan is more powerful."

He does have a point; he's clearly thought about all of this before talking with me. Something I do tend to forget is that he clearly does exhibit critical thinking about things he cares about. There is an overwhelming effort towards fighting for his goals, unlike any other.

"The last thing I would want is to bring more turbulence to the great people of this land, Uchiha or Senju; we've all given a lot just to be a part of this. We've done it all together, and we'll all be in this together. And as I said, I feel like you suffered, more than I have. It's also my way of thanking you for not attacking Tobirama. You may still hold contempt for him, but it was you who had announced an end to the war. Whether it be because you didn't want to see me die, or because you didn't want to see anymore people you care about die, I thank you."

He's been thinking hard about this hasn't he. He's been worried. Something about this makes me want to cry. I haven't cried since the first time I lost a brother. I can tell Hashirama feels my discomfort because he then grabs both my shoulders while looking like he's about to cry himself.

"We've both lost our parents and brothers to this war. Unlike me, you lost all of them, and I know you don't like talking about it… and I'm sorry."

I see him starting to shake continue to unravel right in front of me; we're still locked in fierce eye contact. I almost can't bare all of it, everything he's telling me, how much he's trying to get me to see what he sees. I lay my hand on his chest to try and console him. As he starts to relax, I resist the urge to caress his pecs. I partially try to console him as to keep him from hugging me at random, it happens a lot, and I always stuck in a position of trying to escape before unwanted erections embarrass me and ruin our relationship forever. I find the best way to avoid unwanted physical contact is to give partial physical contact. It works with him anyway.

"I'm not fully sure what to say."

"You get what I'm saying, though? I really would like you to consider the position."

I thought it all over quickly. But when I think about the Village accepting me in general, let alone as their leader, I imagine massive hatred and fear in response. A full on rebuke of my character. Not saying I'm fragile to critiques, I'm just aware that I'm not... popular... enough...

Hashirama was born to be universally loved. Everyone loves him. He's even made me see light and it's not something anyone can do. If it had been anyone else at that pivotal point in the war, I would have taken their lives. Especially Tobirama's for killing my brother in front of me. Hashirama is the only one in my mind that can reunite this land and recreate the Shinobi world. I don't believe I have that power. And that's not even to knock me down as I don't think anyone else around me has that power either. I'm not even fully respected in my own Clan. I've been called weak just for creating the truce with the Senju in the first place.

I'm not even sure…

If I'd be good in any role…

Or what I'm supposed to do…

This is all happening so quickly. And it took a long time filled with mindless fighting and endless battles. It has all lead up to this. I don't know what I'm doing anymore. And it's not something I can talk to Hashirama about either. He'd obviously win the people's vote anyway. And then there won't be any time left for me to be with him like this.

"Well, what do you say? Do you accept the bid the nomination for Leader of The Village hidden in the leaves?"

I take one last moment to think it over. And with the facts that I just laid out. It becomes a resounding answer in my mind, all too clear in fact.

"No Hashirama, the position is clearly yours. There is no way the people of the Village would accept me as their leader. And besides you're clearly the one of us to that everyone loves; that everyone adores, that everyone roots for. Everyone sees this Village as yours anyway. In any case, it would not be in my power to accept the nomination. Nor is it yours to give. It's the people's. Whether or not I accept your personal nomination isn't too much of a factor. It all depends on whether people see me as a good fit. When we get to that point, I might consider it. But until then, I must be acknowledged by the people of this Village first and foremost. So, I guess my answer for now is technically no on the grounds that I wouldn't win anyway." Whew. A bit winded after that. At least I didn't stutter this time.

Hashirama's face scrunches and puffs with annoyance and disappointment.

"But I really would like to thank you. I appreciate the offer and I'm glad you still are trying to think of a way to make me useful." Nearly grumbled that last sentence. Instant regret as now we're about re-argue the legitimacy of my nomination. Can't I catch a break with him?

A defiant stern look rises upon Hashirama's face, he raises one finger and-

"Hey, what are you two wasting time up here for?"

A powerful voice filled with spite and clear bitterness cuts through the tension. Whipping our attention to the other side of the mountain, we immediately distance ourselves from each other out of shock and embarrassment, a mutual silent agreement to drop the current discussion for now.

As we turn around, we see none other than the expected white hairand scarred face bearing red eyes that could challenge even my Sharingan.

While he is making it a point to yell at both of us, he's very obviously glaring directly at me with those eyes. And I, of course, return the glare in full. As much disdain that we clearly have for each other, he's the only other man that's really given me any purpose, other than Hashirama. In this time of peace, I shouldn't want to create more conflict. However, avenging Izuna will probably end up being my purpose in the far-far-far future. If anything, he's the one who'll end up ruining the peace that we all worked so hard to achieve.

I can't help it. I can't help but feel angry when I look at those eyes. It's like God's playing a sick cruel joke against me. Why is it always me? The man I'm glaring at. The man who took away my last brother and yet still standing. Has the audacity to glare at me? Worsened by the fact that I didn't start this. Something about him has always put me on edge. Partially it's the mutual distaste for each other. He's never liked me. Not when we were children. Not now. Not even after I put aside my anger for him and declared an end to the war, after directly establishing peace. When I see him glaring at me, I see how the village looks at me, although the people don't want to admit it. We're still outcasts in our own village. Tobirama is just more upfront with his hatred of the Uchiha than others. Especially with me.

When I look at Tobirama, I lose faith that we will ever truly be equals in terms of respect; that our clans will ever truly be united.

And most of all, pride be damned, I feel like I'm hopeless. When I look at Tobirama, I do feel like a weak leader. Like I truly should have killed him before he ever laid a finger on Izuna, and I definitely should have done so after. And me letting him go was a slap in the face to all the Uchiha clan members who had died before.

I'm so tired of feeling this way.

I'm so tired of looking at the Senju clan and feeling this way. But something that can topples this hatred, something that keeps me in line, something that may be deemed as a weakness.

I just can't help it.

I don't know what Hashirama has done to me.

Why do Senju men have to be so. fucking. hot…?

Part of me feels stupid for glaring at him. Part of me knows it's just an excuse to ogle him while he wastes his time glaring. Glaring at him is clearly not going to make any situation better. It's obvious that if we were to fight that I would win and if at any given point I wanted to kill him, I could. I'd have to deal with Hashirama's wrath, and I'd probably die from that. But that doesn't take away from the huge gap in power between me and his younger brother.

Words may seem meaningless in the Shinobi world, holding pointless hatred and animosity towards each other is even worse though. Feeling very complex emotions in one hand because I feel like I've been made the scapegoat for a lot of people's hatred. And I must do it in the name of the Village's happiness. In the name of ending that hatred and dying with that hatred. it's becoming painful and I don't know who to talk to.

But we've been staring at each other long enough, so I turn to face the village for the last time. As in, I'm finally ready to move forward. I'm ready to move past hatred, with or without people like Tobirama. Clearly Hashirama sees this; he sees how his own brother doesn't like me. How much he clearly despises me being in his vicinity or even having to see me at all. As if on cue, He beckons Hashirama to come back to the village with him. But before Hashirama decided to leave me here alone, he walks over to me and he hugs me as a goodbye.

"I know something's on your mind… other than what we were talking about… something really painful. You've been like this all day. I'm worried about you. And if you ever want or need to talk about anything. Please reach out to me. Please be kind to yourself. Don't suffer."

"I'm fine Hashirama. I promise. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. I am fine. Don't worry." Maybe I should've sounded more confident. He was making me nervous. And I needed to get him off me before our unwanted visitor gets any ideas. I also wanted to keep MY unwanted visitor from doing the same. Again, I am confronted with the disappointed distraught look on his face. It's all real this time though, which is so much worse. It rips me apart on the inside to lie to him like this. And his response alone is shutting me down. He's not stupid, as much as I tease him. He's astounding with human emotions. It's one of many reasons why people like him so much. It feels like there's nothing he can't do. Maybe that's why he's always trying to lend a hand. If I let him into more of my world. Things won't be the same with him. I'm not sure I can ever give him my full honesty.

And then I was struck by a revelation, did he just offer me the position because he knew I was depressed? The pieces are all there. It may be an audacious thing to assume that Hashirama is putting me on a pedestal, but that look in his eyes told me that there was nothing of higher concern than my well-being. I want to scream. Intense agony writhes through my body. Why do I always bring people down? There's no other word for it. I'm heartbroken.

After awkwardly looking back at Tobirama, Hashirama finally decides, it's time to go. He waves me off with a goodbye and both proceed to exit the Mountainside and I'm left here with my depressing thoughts. But before they are gone, I can feel Tobirama's eyes wandering back to me.

So anyway tell me what you like/don't like in the review section. Do you think Madara should take the position? Do you think a duo Hokage shared position could work. Or is Hashirama doomed to the chair? I'm still working on the story so let me know what you think would be interesting.

You can follow updates on this fanfic at https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13772524/1/Hold-Me

And you can follow what I’m doing at monikareddiary.com

[cassandra-pentughasst]

Hmmmm.... how about ALL the emojis for the OC OTP ask prompt for an OC of your choice? :D

Thanks friend! All of them? Are you sure? This is gonna get long for Ell and Cass so I’m gonna pop it under a cut 

❣️ When did your OC first realise they were in love? How did they react to the realisation?EllanaShe knew she loved Cassandra in the future Redcliffe after she realised that Cassandra was willing to sacrifice herself for her and that despite how much she went through her resolve and faith never broke.She knew she was in love with her when she woke up in her arms after the battle of haven. All she remembers before that is hazy and she vaguely remembers Cassandra being the one to find her in the snow, but waking up warm and safe in her arms she realises just how hopeless a situation she’s found herself in because she feels like its a one-sided thing. CassandraWhen Ellana is helping her get cleaned up after being shot in the arm with a poison arrow. Its the first time she lets herself admit it to herself even if she realised it way before then. Naturally she’s scared by the realisation because she knows how dangerous the future is for the both of them. 

💝 What kinds of gifts does your OC receive from their partner(s)? What kinds of gifts do they give in return?Cassandra gives her the most valuable thing (in Ellana’s mind) that she can give her - time and energy. She doesn’t put much stock in material things, so Cassandra tending to her herbs in the garden when she’s away and can’t means a lot to her. The most valuable thing she’s ever given her is the Dragontooth pendant which she pretty much never takes off for various reasons. In return, she gives Cassandra things she likes, books, tiny trinkets that remind her of her things like that. Food of certain significance is also a notable gift.  

💕 Describe an ideal date form them!Somewhere quiet and where they can’t be interrupted. Neither of them are big on the idea of doing anything ‘big’ around people so discretion is preferred. For Ellana it would be something simple, a picnic in a meadow under a shady tree, them feeding each other and talking about everything and nothing, making flower crowns for Cassandra just so she can watch her blush when she calls her beautiful.For Cassandra it would be something candle lit and under the stars, the two of them sharing folk tales about the constellations and just talking or cuddling in silence. Alternate - A candlelit dinner somewhere discrete and spending the rest of the evening wandering the streets hand in hand going with the flow of the crowd, the smell of the ocean and summer nights thick in the air, Ellana in something long, low cut, and flowing, Cassandra dapper in breeches and a loose flowing tunic, neither of them looking like the important people they are and anonymous in the crowd, spending most of their night laughing and talking quietly in each others ear. (This is giving me post trespasser ideas and Antiva vibes)      

💔 Has your OC had a bad breakup or nasty ex? If so does this have any affect on their current relationship?EllanaThere was the whole ordeal with Rihari and her clan that leaves her a little weary when it comes to anything longer than a night, so she’s a bit of a mess when Cassandra rejects her, and even more so when they first get together, so her giving Cassandra the lead when it comes to what they do and when is as much for her own comfort as well as Cassandra’s.CassandraCan you count dying in an explosion as a bad break-up? Finding out Galyan was unfaithful hurt her more than she thought it would, so it leaves her a little weary not so much of Ellana’s commitment to her, but of the people that try to hit on her constantly because she is a tad insecure about herself and does wonder why Ellana chose her over the women who literally throw themselves at her on occasion. The Galyan thing makes her better at communicating her needs and wants though. 

💘 What do they love most about their partner(s)? What do their partner(s) love most about them?EllanaHonestly, the thing Ellana loves most about Cassandra is Cassandra. She loves her smile, her laugh, her first thing in the morning, the last thing she feels and sees at night. She loves her self confidence, her shyness, her temper, her strong sense of right and wrong even if they don’t always agree on what those things are. She honestly loves everything about her and she can’t just pick one thing because they all bleed together and can’t be separated. CassandraShe loves Ellana for her strength, and her determination and her willingness to do things that need to be done when no one else wants to do them. She loves how she makes her feel - valued, loved, desired, wanted - which is big for her after a lifetime of being expected to fit into certain roles and never to explore what she wants, and being told that she was too much, too headstrong and needed to tone herself down to be more ’palatable’.   

💖 What are some little subtle ways they show that they love each other?EllanaFlowers, and long looksCassandraSoft touches and placing herself between her and danger

💗 Describe your OC’s partner(s) from their point of view! What do they really think about them?Ellana“Cassandra radiates a strength that is unspoken, of both character and physical presence. Her smile is like witnessing the first light of dawn on dew covered leaves on an early summer morning - pure and radiant, beautiful in a way that few see, and even fewer appreciate”Cassandra“The moon pales in comparison to her beauty, fades when I think of how much I love her. They will write tales of her exploits, of me the woman she loved, and none of them will come close to describing the strength of her or her character and how she faced down the wrath of a would-be god and walked away unharmed.Ellana is like a cool breeze on a hot day, the kiss of rain on hot skin, a thunderstorm. She is tender, caring, but furious, tempestuous, unforgiving and full of rage when she needs to be, but never long enough to be destructive or spiteful. She is fiercely devoted to those she cares about - those she loves, and I am lucky enough to be one of those few”  

💓 What is their favourite activity to do together (that isn’t time in the bedroom)?Reading together. Well, more Cassandra reading to her because it helps her deal with how overwhelming everything is. Napping together is a close second. 

💞 What do their respective families think of their relationship?Neither of them are really in contact with their actual families, but their found family is happy for them. Leliana is happy for Cassandra because she’s spent so long telling her she deserves her happiness on her own terms and she glad that she’s finally letting herself have just that. (She lowkey never saw what Cassandra saw in Galyan, and she liked him even less when she found out about his unfaithfulness, even if she said nothing about it at the time as much as she wanted to) After learning about Ellana’s past Dorian is happy for Ellana because she deserves something good, and to be accepted and loved for who she is, and not to be used to satisfy a curiosity or for her body or one-night stands. He grows to be quite protective of them both though the more he gets to know Cassandra and when he sees how good they both are for each other and to each other.    

🖤 Have they ever had a really bad argument where they almost broke up?Not one that I’m willing to talk about at length - but short answer, yes. 

❤️ How did they end up in a relationship with their current partner(s)?Ellana would say fate, and Cassandra quietly agrees. But after some foolishness on both their parts they got to where they needed to be, with a little more heartache than they really needed. 

💍 Which one of them would propose? How would it happen? (or write if you feel like it!)They both would, but Ellana would probably do it first. She wouldn’t make a grand event of it, it’d be something simple and private, and tender because its them and that just how they be.

💋 Who is the best kisser? (if you’d like write a short smooch scene!)Both of them would argue that the other is the best, but they both do things that the other enjoys so they’re both biased. Cassandra always kisses Ellana with a tenderness that makes her feel safe and appreciated, but when she wants to she kisses her in a way that leaves her breathless and thoughtless of little more than what’s happening on an immediate physical level. Ellana kisses her mostly in the same way, but there is always a sense that she can’t get enough of her and Cassandra loves it.

💌 Write a love letter from your OC to their partner(s). BONUS: write a reply!E - The days with the recruits are long, but it is rewarding to see them improve where they once faltered as the days pass. But that satisfaction fades with the setting sun when I eat quickly and retire to an empty bed, so it is safe to say sleep has been elusive these past weeks and I have been the poorer for it.Waking from dreams of you beside me and the things we do in the quiet hours of the morning are a sweet torture, and make me miss you all the more, and I find that I am counting down the days to your return, and do not plan to leave your side, or our bed or quarters for at least a day after your return. I know you will be thinking that I only want you for your body and you know that on a fundamental level that it is true, but the truth is I miss waking up with you in the mornings. Last night I read something particularly amusing in the book you gave me before you left and I can’t wait to share it with you, or to show you the new blooms in the garden, or to share my morning meal with you.I find that I miss sharing things about my day with you the most, and there is so much that has happened that you would find amusing but I’m afraid my limited ability with words fail at the prospect of ever fitting such stories into a letter.I eagerly await your return, but please stay safe my love, you know how I worry.Yours always- CVhenan, You know me too well my love and for someone who claims to be so poor with words, you never fail to take my breath away.I too have missed you dearly, just this morning I watched the most radiant of sunrises and wished that you were there to share it with me, just so I could have that moment of peace with you beside me, see how much it paled in comparison to your beautiful face. Most of the rifts here are closed and have stayed that way since our last expedition here. But next time I decide to leave you behind at Skyhold during an expedition call me the fool that I am. Proving Dorian and Leliana wrong is not worth my sanity, and is never sound logic, not when I wake from troubling dreams without you there to comfort me and soothe me back to sleep, and leaves me in a mood foul enough to rival one of yours when you and Varric are in the finest of form.Our work should be done here within the week if the weather and our luck holds.I look forward to seeing you soon, and am going to hold you to your words about a day not leaving our bed or quarters (though I admit, even just spending the day asleep in your arms sounds like a blessing after these past weeks) I miss you, and I love you vhenanYours always- E

💜 Give a random fact about their daily life together!They always tale breakfast and dinner together. There’s something special about starting their days in peace together, and ending it sharing a meal and the events of their days together. So they always try to have both together.  

[realitachifacts]

HCs about Itachi and his dreams, nightmares, sleeping habits and alternate states of consciousness. Does he get insomnia? Anything about parasomnia? Maybe a brief writing about it.

okay i just finished this and wtf it ended up being so long. i am not editing the story so if there are typos or anything sucks to suck for me.

headcanon time! i’m really excited for this one not gonna lie.

itachi has nightmares. many of them. this… makes sense, really, considering traumatic experiences induce vivid nightmares and, actually, blind people have more nightmares (though the difference is much slighter that that of the average person if you become blind later in life). 

i’m gonna get into the blindness first before i get into the nightmares. some of this is probably going to be scientifically inaccurate, but i mean… this is an anime headcanon.

the more his blindness progressed, the less visual the dreams became, focusing more on sensory experiences; at the same time, the imagery incorporated became more “familiar territory”, by which i mean the elements involved show up in a way he’d been familiar with for a longer experience of time. i guess the best example would be, before the final showdown, he’d seen sasuke once, at around age thirteen. the last few times he was able to see even anything in dreams, one of the few visuals that remained was his family, at the age he killed them; despite not seeing them in years, playing solely off of the most prominent memories. 

as he began to see less and less in general, before blacked-out dreams, the more the things less important to him would fade away, out of sight.

as far as dreams go, it’s likely he had very few positive ones while in the akatsuki. i’d imagine more of them came when he could no longer see, but it was still painful, to hear the voices of loved ones and not be able to look into their faces again in the only way you can, knowing you have only a few months left to live.

now onto the nightmares.

more or less as an interesting concept alone, but for the majority of his life, itachi never had nightmares. stress at night manifested solely through insomnia rather than having bad dreams. since he’s a ninja, i would imagine learning to remain composed is sort of an essential asset of the job, and he was probably taught how to do this, so he could at least force himself into sleep, even if he woke up several times or barely felt rested in the morning.

he’s had dreams though, but that’s never been something all that significant to him; i don’t think any of them have been super good dreams. 

[ okay just note that i haven’t gotten to the shisui death scene yet i just know that it happens and that’s about it so i’m probably interpreting some stuff wrong ]

but when that happened he couldn’t sleep for 10 full days until he passed out from sleep deprivation.

the first time he had a nightmare was the first time he was able to sleep after killing his clan. 

okay actually that’s cool i’m gonna write something with that. ugh OP… your mind…

obviously the nightmares were trauma-based. he had them up until his death, but the further away from the time the event occurred, the more abstract elements worked their way into the dream. he still had the dreams after he lost sight in his dreams, and he felt a bit guilty about it, but he was grateful he didn’t have to look at the eyes and faces of his clan members as he killed them.

for a while after the sasuke encounter during part I, sasuke played a more prominent part in his nightmares, for a good while.  

the majority of the nightmares involve bad things happening to sasuke, or him killing his clan, or havoc in the leaf village, since i doubt anything harm that could come upon itachi scares him as much as the thought of those three things. 

i imagine both dreams and nightmares are very vivid for itachi, being an observing/calculating/analytical individual he takes in more and has more to process.

as far as parasomnias go, dream-enacting behavior might’ve happened once or twice but i can’t imagine much beyond that. 

as for sleeping habits, probably just mindfulness exercises before sleeping, because being someone introspective and having done/been through terrible things you feel guilty about that giving yourself time to think before you sleep is probably not the best of ideas ever. 

with worsening depression/illness, itachi’s wanting to just sleep all the time probably amplified. it’s particularly hard, knowing that after closing your eyes the misery will continue or even worsen. 

):

as for altered states of consciousness, i have a personal headcanon that using genjutsu efficiently requires a calm/collected/well cared for mind, otherwise you might not be able to control or even, worst case scenario when you’ve totally lost your marbles, get trapped in your own genjutsu. so i would assume something like meditation/mind training in some way would help you maintain that.  

i think that covers everything?

now for a story.

Itachi Uchiha has never had a nightmare before in his life.

“Why?!”

He doesn’t need to.

“W-Why would you do this?!”

He’s living one.

Itachi talks about wanting to prove his vessel.

Doesn’t mean a single word of it.

… , …

He spends the rest of the night running, getting away and putting as much distance between himself and the Hidden Leaf Village as is completely possible, and in his head the moment plays over and over and over, but it doesn’t feel real, he’s existing in this dreamlike state, as if he’s repeatedly reading some page of a book because his eyes are blurred, unfocused.

He appears calm, at least, he thinks, as he stops running; the one area falling short of perfection in his academy exams was stamina, but a fighting style rooted primarily in genjutsu more than makes up for that missing proficiency. He has… a lot of emotions to process, really, it’s foreign territory when the majority of his emotional responses have a tendency towards being at least moderately underwhelming. This whole endeavor, every part of it, it’s been so stressful, so painful, deep hurt powerful enough that it manifests physically in his body, chest bleeding with.

Sadness.

Loss.

Loneliness.

Remorse.

He wonders if he should feel remorse, or at least, if remorse is logically applicable here. He was doing this to save the village, it would have happened either way, but at least this way Sasuke his safe, holding that sword with the metal drinking in and shining out the colors of moonlight, silver gleam broken by patches of slightly rusted crimson, red like roses lovers give to each other; blood of his ancestors and uncles and aunts and cousins and his parents and. And anyways. His little brother would’ve died, if it had been anyone but him. His clan was going to stage a coup, start a war, the death toll would’ve been worse, so many of the Uchihas would’ve died in it anyways, at least he put them out of their misery fast, and-

These are rationalizations.

Itachi knows this.

But he saved the village, he thinks. 

It was going to happen anyways.

Sasuke will grow stronger, Itachi will ensure it, kill him and paint the clan name in new colors; clean off the bloodstained sins Itachi left on his blade. Sasuke will go back to the village a hero, Itachi thinks. Find happiness and acceptance, slaughterer of his criminal brother, sociopathic mass-murderer, heart and soul black as the eyes of crows.

Itachi is orchestrating his own divine justice. Playing as a deity in order to be purged by an angel of his own creation.

… , …

He’s sitting underneath a pine tree, long bark-wrinkled branches with needle fingers hang lazily from its sides. It’s still night, but in a few hours, it’ll be dawn, Itachi’s internal clock estimates. Still, the sky above him is as dark as a scorpion’s carapace, white stars speckled across like the shine on its shell. By now the world up above the deciduous forest is moonless, clouds consume it like parasites. It’s not that cold, or it could be colder, but maybe Itachi’s body is just numb from.

Everything.

Anyways, he’s exhausted. Doesn’t know where he’ll go from here. Thirteen-year-old self too life-drained to carry on much further. He lays down on a bed of pine needles, rough against his back, stinging in minutely; closes his eyes.

He thinks sleep won’t come easily.

He’s wrong.

But Itachi promises himself one thing before he fades down into unconsciousness.

If he can, he never wants to kill anyone, ever again.

… , …

Itachi is in the Uchiha compound, night’s almost fallen, the sky is painted indigo from the tail ends of dusk.

-

Many battles ensue. 

Itachi wins all of them 

-

His parents sit next to each other, in their room, side by side, execution style.

They talk about some things.

Itachi kills them.

-

Sasuke is crying.

If you want to defeat me, you need these eyes, Itachi says.

He’s already mentioned that he never cared about him, this whole time.

There’s nobody else in the world Itachi could ever care about more.

… , …

Itachi wakes up with tears heavy in his eyes, breathing hard, the milky pink of dawn has managed to claw its way into the sky and the first breaths of light whisper down between leaves and what was that.

Rationally, Itachi knows it’s a nightmare, but his heart is still fast and his breathing is a bit sped up and his eyes are wide, less characteristic emotional expression (though the normal tends to be majorly apathy, with any other responses muted partially). 

He’s.

He’s never had one of these before.

It felt so real, and his dreams, they’ve always been vivid, mainly processing stressors or other events that provoked a more intense response from him; he’s never needed to analyze them, because his sleeping mind still holds hands with reality, and so now, this, this reliving it, as it happened, had to look into his relatives’ death-fearing eyes, had to act on notions antithetic to his moral code of pacifism, had to murder so many people. 

Itachi shakes his head, tries not to dwell on it for too long.

He has a life he needs to figure out what to do with, until its preordained end.

… , …

He has that dream many, many more times.

It doesn’t get better, any of them.

… , …

Itachi is already halfway out of one of the two beds he’s rented at the inn, soft and luxurious and feather down mattress, as Kisame begins to speak. Asks Itachi if it’s another nightmare.

Itachi says nothing. The yes is unspoken.

Kisame asks Itachi if it’s the same one.

“Partially.” Itachi says. “Though devoid of all visual imagery.”

Kisame makes a jest, something along the lines of ‘finally, huh’? Itachi finds it non-offensive. He’s trying to be supportive, lighten the situation. Itachi doesn’t laugh at much anything, anymore. Kisame still tries.

“It’s been this way for some time, actually.” I just never wanted to talk about it.

He’s going to sit outside, take some space, as he does. This is a regular occurrence. Kisame tells him to come back soon.

… , …

Itachi comes back after around thirty minutes. Kisame is still awake, likely awaiting his safe return. It’s considerate.

He reminds Itachi that they’ll be at the Uchiha Hideout soon. 

Itachi wouldn’t have forgotten ever. The scene of the final showdown, holy retribution, smite by the angelic.

… , …

This is Itachi’s last night alive.

He hopes the night is dreamless.

… , …

It isn’t.

But actually, in a good way.

… , …

Itachi is practicing shurikenjutsu, he’s around thirteen, sort of, leaps into the air in cat smooth motions, the throwing stars bounce off of each other and white shines across the metal. It’s warm and summery and the rare breaths of wind are hot, comforting almost. The trees are painted golden at the edges by sunlight, shuriken impale the targets on them, biting into their canvas skin.  

Perfect score.

Sasuke is there, too, a child, around seven. He’s smiling and there are stars in his dark eyes and he’s looking at his older brother like Itachi is going to give him the world. 

“Can you teach me that, too?” His voice just bleeds excitement and awe, he wants to be just like his older brother who is the Best Ninja Ever. Itachi extends his hand, moves his fingers in a ‘come here’ motion. There’s a half moon smile of white teeth suddenly there on Sasuke’s face, he runs towards his brother, and Itachi uses his index and middle finger, pokes in the middle of Sasuke’s forehead, who flinches back, makes a pouting face, knowing the next sentence by heart.

“I’m sorry Sasuke, maybe next time.”

“You always say that.”

Itachi smiles apologetically, then thinks about it. Is he really busy right now? He usually is; he planned to finish his training and help his father with some mission work. But… Well, considering the state of things, he might not have more opportunities like this.

So that can wait until another time.

“I think I may be free now, actually.” Itachi sees Sasuke’s whole being shine brighter and warmer than the sun.

-

Itachi teaches Sasuke the beginnings of shurikenjutsu. Sasuke learns quickly, and glows in every word of his older brother’s praise and encouragement.

-

At the end of it all, Sasuke grabs Itachi, hugs him tight.

“Thank you, older brother.”

And Itachi feels…

Happy.

… , …

Suddenly, things are different. His body hurts, all over, it’s cold around him, dark, Itachi’s vision is blurred and then he realizes where he is, remembers that this world, this is his reality. Kisame is already awake, it’s morning, they have to get ready for… what’s next, for Itachi.

Kisame tells Itachi that he should’ve woken him up earlier, but he didn’t.

“Why?”

Apparently he was smiling in his sleep. Kisame asks what he was dreaming about.

Itachi has to think for a while, before he finds the right thing to say.

… , …

“How things should have been.”

[pucketknife-blog]

FIVE STAGES OF GRIEF~ self para [PG]

↪ TAGGING: Noah Puckerman ( @pucketknife ); mentions of Tzion and Calev Puckerman and Chevalier D. Syerus, Alderman of the SGA; ↪ LOCATION/TIME: NYADA Campus, Apeliotes #101; May 7th & 8th; Monday morning through Tuesday morning; ↪ SYNOPSIS: After the verdict, Puck has to figure out what comes next; ↪ WARNINGS: language and slight signs of depression, if any, but nothing major;

Monday morning starts just like any other day, before dawn with a quick run through the empty Campus, nothing but a few faces in sight (either drunk people still unaware the weekend is over or other runners, some people he recognizes from his slaying courses and people he sees on a regular basis, who wave or nod at him as he passes them by). Still, Puck doesn’t usually pay attention to anything but his music and the path ahead of him, the burn of his muscles and the rhythm of his breathing.

That's why he’s surprised when the music stops with the incoming call. He stops and answers as he walks to a water fountain and takes a sip, and it’s even more surprising to hear no one but Tzion Puckerman on the other end of the line. His uncle never calls, and his voice is stern even through his headphones, clearly unhappy to be having this conversation.

"What is it?" Puck asks, his breathing fast due to the jogging as he begins stretching, "Why're you callin'? Did someone die?" It’s not a joke. He couldn’t think of any other reason why Tzion would bother picking up the phone. For a moment, he thinks of his cousins, wonders if he should be worried, but his uncle is fast to blow him off, tells him everyone's okay and that there’s something else he’s calling about. 

"Then what is it? It's not like you're one of those people who just calls someone when they miss-"

"The Assembly's gonna call you in a moment," Tzion cuts him off, clearly not amused with Puck's little one-liners, "You're suspended without pay."

Puck freezes, and if the phone had been in his hand, he would’ve probably dropped it.

"The fuck? What the-"

"There was a trial,” he says, “something about a fire. You forgot to mention it, I assume. They said you killed some Lusus. I'd say good job, but, y'know. I'm not happy about the news."

He's most definitely not happy. Clearly. But neither is Puck.

"I didn't do shit," he replies through gritted teeth, adrenaline flowing through his veins, anger filling up his chest.

"Well, it's clear you didn't," Tzion barks back. "You didn't cover up your fucking tracks, Amram. And now it's our Clan that has to pay for your mistakes."

"That's not-"

Puck can't finish his sentence before Tzion is talking over him again.

"You were supposed to be better than this," he voices, low and dangerous. It reminds Puck of his own father. It makes him flinch involuntarily. "You were supposed to be the next big thing."

"Tzion..." He's frozen, unable to know what he's supposed to say, what he's supposed to do.

"Don't," the head of the Puckerman Clan states, and Puck can almost see the disappointment and anger painted on his face. "Don't dishonor our Clan any further with your excuses. Don't call us, Amram."

The call ends and the music comes back, but Puck feels like he's been beaten up with a bat, left bloody and broken in a ditch.

His life is over, and for what.

This cannot be happening.

He goes straight back to his dorm and checks the news, punching the keyboard keys loudly until the headline appears in the NYADAily.

"The end of an era..." It sure was.

Puck swallows hard as his eyes fly through the article, the monster inside him growing as he reads more.

Fuchs’ claimed that he had also been brainwashed by Lusus Naturae, a trickster who took advantage of his position to use his home as a “base for [their] illegal happenings.” Fuchs says he was also tricked into seeing his home as a “picture-perfect dollhouse. [He] was unaware of the decor or how it had been changed.”

Bullshit.

Defence lawyer Jennifer Walters, L.L.M, has acknowledged that Fuchs kidnapped various Lusus Naturae victims ranging from selkies to lamias, but successfully countered the prosecution’s claim that the defendant used enchantment magic and killed several victims in premeditated assault. 

Bullshit.

Evans and Puckerman had been charged with involuntary and voluntary manslaughter

Bull

Evans, under the prosecution, is getting off with a $20,000 fine for model behavior. The jurors believed it to be a honest mistake. 

Puckerman, however, has been demoted to an unknown rank in the Slayers’ Guild, has been stripped of his weapons and badge, and is on unpaid leave until further notice as internal investigations are underway.

Shit.

His knuckles go white as he holds onto the edge of his desk.

One trial member, who does not wish to be named, says it was “deserved… That brute was no different than a thug.”

His computer claps loudly as he closes it shut and he throws the chair across the room, feeling the tears prickling at his eyes, a painful yell toring his throat.

He should've never tried to help.

"You have to understand, Cal," Puck hurries his words, tries to find a way to explain himself to his cousin that calls as an official Secretary of the Guild to let put the final nail to his career's coffin. He tries to stop the unavoidable ending even when he knows neither of them have a voice in the situation, but he can't make himself stop.

"I don't know what happened. You have to tell your dad, it's not my fault." 

In other circumstances, he'd rather be caught dead than begging, but right then and there, he can't do anything but. "Please, Cal. I did nothing wrong. Nothing. I was set up by those fucking lawyers, I was protecting someone else! I was protecting myself! You have to know I'm not lying, you have to know, he's the one who should be paying, not me!”

"I'm sorry, A," he says, and even if his voice is warmer than his uncle's, more human and almost pitiful, almost caring, it doesn't make it any better. "There's nothing to do. One of the Aldermen is heading your way right now. Just hand him your badge and weapons. Don't make it harder than it needs to be."

Puck can't even reply, and he bites down on his lip hard.

"I'm really sorry," Calev repeats with honesty.

He feels the salty taste of tears on his lips.

"Yeah," he nods to himself, voice cracking only slightly. "Me too."

It's past midday when Alderman Syerus knocks at his door. Puck has finally managed to compose himself, but as he sees him there, his soul falls to his feet. The man asks for his things, and Puck is almost ready to plead his case, tell him exactly what happened in Fuch's house, tell the whole story again and again until he understood he was making the wrong call, he was punishing the wrong man for something he was forced to do.

He’s abotu to open his mouth when he remembers Tzion's words.

Don't disgrace us any further;

He remembers Calev's apologetic voice.

Don't make this harder than it needs to be;

So, he doesn't. He gives the Alderman his badge and his favorite gun, the first one his father ever gave him, the first one he's ever held, the first one he's ever killed with, and lets him know where his truck is, how he can get the rest. 

Just like that, his whole life comes to a halt.

Puck stands on the threshold long after Syerus leaves, eyes fixed on the elevator in which he disappeared as he tries to figure out his next step.

When he closes the door behind him, he still doesn't know what to do. He’s at a blank.

So he sleeps.

He wakes up in the middle of the night, the clock ticking loudly in contrast to the silence of the empty room. He's glad Finn's not here, that the school had chosen such a perfect moment to do their exchange program and that he won't have to talk about the result of the trial and his future for at least a week or two. His stomach is empty, growling, but he eyes the little fridge from his bed and groans, turning towards the wall as he curls into himself.

Maybe later.

He stares at the ceiling, eyes fixed in the white roof on top of him. His alarm had gone off a while ago, but unlike any other day, he's still in bed. The sun is up, shining bright, warm light through the open window, and Puck's gaze is blank as he replays the day of the Brownstone fire in his head.

He wonders what had been said about him in the trial; how he ended up without a future while Fuchs didn't get his magic revoked; how Sam had gotten away with a $20,000 fine while he had been punished for doing nothing but his job.

He had done everything he thought right, keeping a low profile after giving his statement, keeping cool and keeping to himself. He avoided all kinds of conflict and applied himself to school, studying hard and even getting good grades (at the very least, good for him). He had even rejected the few jobs the Guild had offered him only to keep a good appearance. Everything for a jury of people he didn't know, in a case he didn't care about, for a cause he didn't believe in.

If he had known how'd that go, he wouldn't have wasted his time in the first place. If he had let the Lusus burn in the fire, he wouldn’t be standing where he was right then.

A breeze seeps into the window, caressing his skin as he lets his eyes fall shut for a second, and he can’t help but wonder what comes next.

Puck doesn't remember a life before being a Slayer. 

He knows there was one. A place where he came from, somewhere he called a home, a kid he used to be, something that meant everything to him, a person he was supposed to be. 

But it’s all gone; he doesn't have it anymore. It was left behind when he met his father, and whoever he was then had died long ago.

He couldn’t look back. He simply couldn’t.

Yet the question invaded his mind, and the words seemed to glow up on top of him.

If I'm not a Slayer, then what am I?

It made him feel lost, like a faint memory of a previous life in which a kid called out for his mother in the middle of a supermarket as tears washed down his face. It made him feel useless and out of place, wonder what was he still doing there if there was a chance he would never become the person he had planned to be.

However, that was not all there was to it. Something brewed in his stomach, bubbling like a boiling cauldron, fighting to come out like an alien. It was something he had never felt before, or at least not with the same intensity, a question that was always there, but he never dared to ask.

If I can't be who I am, then, who am I going to be?

He can't remember the last time someone had asked him that and he had replied with anything but "the best Slayer ever known." Yet his response couldn't be that one anymore, at least not until he served his time. It only left an open door to a new answer, something he had never really asked his own self:

Who do I want to be?

He sighs and checks his phone to see it was just half past ten. He had never been in bed for so long. He had never slept for so many hours straight. He had never had so much time to just chill and do nothing. He had never had time to figure out what he really wanted.

A small smile formed on his lips as the realization dawned onto him.

Even after the trial, even after being suspended, even after being targeted as a brute and a thug, Puck was given something new, something he had never had before.

Puck had a choice.

The only downside to it was, Puck didn't have any idea what he was supposed to do with it.