#I feel weird even reaching out to any of those people now even though they’ve pretty much all reached out to me

[idsb]

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[alotofpockets]

Practice makes perfect | Leah Williamson x Reader

Where you and Leah practised kissing each other to prepare for kissing boys, but you quickly realise that after that you don't want to kiss anyone but her

Woso masterlist | Words: 2.5k

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As the only two girls on the boys' team growing up, you and Leah clicked right away. Football brought you together, but it was everything else about her that kept you close. Not many people had stuck around in your life the way Leah had. From meeting at six years old to now, a decade later, she was still your best friend.

The football dream was becoming reality for the both of you. The young Lionesses and Arsenal Academy were where you spend most of your time besides school or each other’s houses. The two of you were inseparable and everyone knew it. Where you went Leah went, and visa versa.

“Remember when we were like twelve and we practised kissing?” Leah asks you out of nowhere while you’re sitting in her bed and playing video games. You think back to the moment.

It was a similar situation to this one, you were having a sleepover and had just finished watching a romcom. “How do you know if you’re gonna be a good kisser if you’ve never kissed someone before?” Leah asked with a voice filled with curiosity. 

“I have no clue. Why don’t they show those parts in the movies?” You turned off the tv and pulled the covers further over your body. “Exactly! Like when I kiss a guy for the first time, I want to make sure that like I can kiss him properly, you know?” 

You nodded, understanding her concerns. “What if we practised kissing together? Then we can tell each other if we’re any good.” Leah loved your idea and instantly sat up in bed again. “You are brilliant!” 

She made you sit up as well and once you did she double checked if it was okay. When you nodded in confirmation, she leaned in and pecked your lips. “How did I do?” She instantly asked. “Good I think, what about me?” She smiled proudly, “Nice, you as well.” 

You had practised a couple more times that night, and when you both liked boys, you had practised some more so that the first kisses you would have with them would be perfect.

“Yeah, I remember.” In the meantime Leah had paused the game to fully focus on the conversation she wanted to have. “I was wondering if maybe we could practise something again.”

“What do you want to practise?” You asked to urge her to go on. “Well, I heard from some girls in our class that they’ve been making out with their boyfriends, and they talked about how it goes and everything, but even with that information I don’t feel even remotely ready to just make out with a guy. So, I thought that maybe, if you’re up for it of course, we could practise like we did before?”

Even with the introduction Leah gave, her question still caught you off guard. Leah’s hopeful eyes were hard to ignore while you thought about her question. “Just so we don’t totally embarrass ourselves when the time comes.”

"Yeah, exactly! I don’t want to make things weird between us though, you can totally say no.” She quickly added.  “It’s not weird.” you said shifting to sitting cross-legged, facing Leah, on her bed. “We’re just practising.”

Leah’s face lit up with relief, “Exactly, Just practising.” She turned to sit cross-legged as well. She told you how your classmates had described making out, so you were both on the same page. 

“So, eh,” you cleared your throat, “do we just go for it?” Leah let out a nervous laugh, “I guess so?” You nodded, which Leah took as her sign to start leaning in. She inched closer slowly, until her lips brushed yours. 

At first she just pecked your lips like you had practised before. Your heart started beating faster, but you didn’t understand why. Her soft, warm lips on yours felt familiar, yet somehow different. “Still okay?” She asked to make sure you wanted to do this as well. “Yeah.”

You leaned in this time and let your lips move in sync with hers. Your heart thudded loudly in your chest as Leah reached out her hand and cupped your cheek to pull you a little closer. 

When she pulled back after a few moments, her eyes searched yours. “How was that?” 

Your brain felt like it was running a million miles an hour, and you were scrambling to find words. “Good.” You managed finally. “What about me?” Leah’s lips quirked into that proud smile she had done last time, “Good too.” 

A feeling came over you that you had never felt before, you couldn’t quite place it, but before you could overthink it, Leah was leaning in again. “Practice makes perfect, right?” she said softly, and when you didn’t move away, her lips were on yours again.

That night while Leah slept soundly besides you, your mind wouldn’t stop racing. Trying to make sense of what you were feeling. 

It wasn’t until a few weeks later when you saw Leah kiss a boy in your class, that you realised what was happening. The moment you saw the two of them together, you felt a pang of jealousy. All you knew in that moment was that you weren’t jealous of Leah in that moment, but you were jealous of him. 

You turned on your heels and got away from the situation as quickly as possible. Of course, you headed straight over to the football field. The one place where everything felt right. You must’ve spent hours kicking a ball around until your parent’s called asking when you’d be home. “No Leah tonight?” Your mom had asked when you walked in, seemingly without the blonde by your side. You hadn’t even thought about it, but usually Leah would join you on Fridays. “Eh, no not tonight.” You say quickly. “Do I have time for a quick shower?” Your mom nodded and you rushed to your room. 

You checked your phone and sure enough you had a bunch of messages from Leah. The last one read I hope everything is alright. Couldn’t find you at school so I headed home. Please text me back!

You didn’t text Leah back that night, or the next morning. It wasn’t that you were mad at her, of course you weren’t, you didn’t think you ever could be, but you just didn’t know what to say. Every time you thought about her, you saw that boy’s lips on hers. Every time you saw it play back in your mind, it made your chest ache.

But Leah was Leah. Persistent, stubborn, and your best friend. So, it didn’t take her long to just show up at your house unannounced. 

“You’ve been avoiding me.” She stated from your doorframe, after your dad had let her in. She found you laying on the floor with one of your textbooks in front of you, trying to bury yourself into your homework. “What’s going on?” 

You glanced at her and then quickly focused back on your textbook. “Nothing.” Leah shook her head and stepped inside, closing the door behind her. “Liar.” She sighed, “Did I do something wrong?”

“No!” You said a little too quickly and defensive for Leah to believe it. She crossed her arms and leaned against your door, studying you like she was trying to solve a puzzle. “I just need some space.” You said softly, unable to meet her eye.

“Since when do we do space?” Her voice softened. She walked further into your room and sat down on the edge of your bed. “Come on, talk to me.”

You wanted to. You wanted to tell her everything. You always told Leah everything, but how could you tell her about your feelings? How could you tell her that you were jealous of a guy she kissed? Talk about the way your heart raced when you made eye contact with her? 

“I’m fine, Lee.” You forced a smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes and Leah could tell. You saw that she was fighting her inner monologue to press further, her lips parting like she was about to. Before she could say anything, your mother yelled upstairs, “Leah, honey, are you staying for dinner?”

Leah turned to you, “Do you want me to go?” You shake your head, “No, it’s okay. You can stay.” She opened the door and told your mom she would love to before turning back to you. “I’m gonna help her with dinner, you know, so you can have some more space.” This time you noticed her smile not fully reaching her eyes, but before you could say anything, she had already closed the door behind herself.

You stopped ignoring Leah, because you knew she would just find a way in, but that didn’t mean that your interactions were any less awkward, well at least for you. From Leah’s side it seemed like nothing had happened, while you questioned every interaction you had with her.

When she laughed at your jokes, or let her hand linger on your arm or leg, everything made your skin feel like it was on fire.

A few weeks later Leah was picking out her prom outfit with her mom. She had tried on a bunch of dresses, but none of them seemed to be what she was looking for. Today was the last chance of finding something, since prom was literally tonight. So, Amanda was determined to spend the whole morning driving from store to store until they found something.

It was the third store of the morning where Leah’s eyes fell on a baby blue suit, and she knew instantly that that was going to be the one. Her mom encouraged her to put it on, and the smile on her daughter’s face was exactly the reason why she had.

“This is going to be the one!” Leah said as she admired the suit in the mirror. “It’s lovely Leah Cathrine.” Leah smiled big, “Thank you.” After paying for the clothes, the pair headed back to the car.

“Oh mom, I wanted to ask if you could drive y/n and me tonight.” Her mom’s brow furrowed. “Darling of course I would, but I thought y/n wasn’t going?” Leah looks at her mom as if she was crazy. “What makes you think that?”

“Oh well, because that’s what she said yesterday. She said she wasn’t really feeling up to going.” Leah didn’t understand, you hadn’t told her anything. “But she was so excited about it and had her outfit picked out like months ago already. Do you know why she isn’t going?”

Amanda shakes her head, “I don’t know.” Leah was quick to respond. “You didn’t push further?” Amanda chuckles lightly, “No, that’s more your thing, darling.”

Leah sat back in the seat and crossed her arm, going over what she could do. “Can you drive me to her place tonight?” She nodded, “Sure, darling.”

You were watching a movie in your sweats when you heard a knock on the door. When you opened the door, Leah stood in front of you with a small bouquet of flowers. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at prom?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” Leah shoots back instantly. “I’m not going Lee, you should still go though. I’m sure your boyfriend would like you to be there.”

“Boyfriend?” Leah steps inside and closes the door behind her. “What are you talking about? I don’t have a boyfriend.” You shrug your shoulders, “I saw you and Steve kiss, figured you two were together.”

“Oh no definitely not.” Leah said defensively, “He kissed me, and I told him that I wasn’t interested.” You searched her eyes for anything to prove what she was saying wrong, but she seemed sincere. “Oh.”

“So, come to prom with me?” Leah said, holding out the bouquet to you. “Sorry, Lee, I can’t.” She retracted the flowers reluctantly. “Why not?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, and there is nothing you can fix.” You sighed in frustration, wishing she would just drop it. “Did someone else do something? Please just tell me what’s going on.”

Her question hung in the air. Again you wanted to tell her, but you just couldn’t. “I just can’t, please drop it.” But Leah was Leah and there wasn’t any scenario in which she would drop this.

“I won’t drop it. You’ve been excited about your outfit, the music, the pictures. You’ve been talking about prom non-stop for months and now you’re here in sweats not going. Please just tell me what’s going on. If I did something, let me in and let me fix it.” Her plea sounded desperate.

“Fine, okay, I’ll tell you.” Leah focussed on you instantly, not having expected you to break so soon. “I can’t go to prom with you because ever since we practised making out, all I can think about is wanting to kiss you again.” 

Your eyes were looking anywhere but Leah, not ready to see the way she would react to that confession. “Please look at me.” She slowly reached up her hand to your cheek to turn your head to face her. You expected anger, disgust, or even hurt in her eyes, but instead you were met with softness. 

“You know the reason I told Steve I wasn’t interested?” You shook your head. “It’s because after he kissed me, I felt nothing. Which was a stark opposite to how I felt when we kissed. I swear it was just practise when I asked you, but I think that was exactly what I needed to realise my feelings for you.” Leah confessed. 

You stare at her for a moment, taking in the confession. She liked you the same way that you liked her? The corners of your lips slowly rose as it was all coming together in your head. And then without hesitation, you lean in and kiss her for real this time. She kissed you back instantly, and pulled you closer like she had done last time. It felt even better than your time practising, now knowing your feelings for each other.

When Leah pulled away, she leaned her forehead against yours. “So, prom?” Your smile grew. “Yes, just let me get changed.” 

You rushed to your room and quickly got ready. “Wow, you look amazing!” Leah said as you walked back downstairs. “So do you!” You pecked her lips appreciatively. She took your hand and pulled you out the door where her mom was still waiting in the driveway. “Ready to go to prom, girls?” She knew by your happy faces that whatever was going on between the two of you these past weeks, was resolved. “Yeah, more than ready.” You said and Leah squeezed your hand. “Yeah, let’s go.”

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[takumiraine]

Once upon a time chapter 11

Teaching children is so draining. Is it Christmas break yet????

<first> <prev> <next>

The ride to Danny’s apartment building was uneventful, even though Danny was still positively radiating anxiety.

“How long do you think it’ll take them to realize they’ve been hacked?” He asked, looking over at Tucker.

“They’ve probably already realized it honestly. But none of it can tie back to us really so… hopefully they don’t show up.” Tucker shrugged, giving Danny another pat on the arm. There had been so many of them, and Danny was pretty sure half were just because Tucker knew that he hadn’t been getting much physical contact at all lately.

He hadn’t been living a life of much anything at all lately.

“If we can get me some old Fenton tech and a soldering kit I might be able to put some anti-anti ghost weapons together. I was the one that fixed most of their stuff anyways.” Danny mused, considering what he could feasibly do. “If I could get some of the shield tech and a specter deflector I could theoretically combine them to create a personal shield. Vlad’s shielding is better but I’m not going up to Wisconsin again.”

Danny shuddered in his muttering before going on talking through the possible changes he’d make. Jason looked at Sam and Tucker in the mirror. “Cheese fountain incident?”

“Among other things. Danny and Vlad have never really gotten along. Vlad always had a creepy thing for Danny’s mom and it was just weird.” Tucker explained, looking over at Sam.

“And Vlad kept trying to kill, clone and possibly make genetic babies with Danny. There’s Dani and Dan in the zone somewhere I think. You’d know if you met one of them,” Sam added, while Danny just nodded absently in agreement.

“Sam, are you planning on going home any time soon?” Danny asked, sort of changing the subject.

“No, and even if I was, I’m not sure how I’d get some of your parents failed tech out without them noticing. Jazz said they’re always in the lab now, trying to figure out how to, and I quote, ‘save their precious son from the evil ghost that is possessing him’.”

Danny groaned. “You’d think, after watching me be attacked and changing in front of their eyes, they’d get over this possession bullshit.”

“There’s a point to be made about willful ignorance there,” Sam agreed, “I guess it’s easier to swallow than the truth.”

They parked in front of Danny’s building and the four got out. “If you think your car will be safe here you can come up. But not a word about how I’ve been living. The paranoia is your fault.” Danny scowled up at Jason, and not for the first time Jason found Danny’s willingness to stand up to someone much taller than him endearing.

“Not a word. Scout’s honor.” Jason was never a scout, and he had very little honor left, but he doubted Danny knew either of those things. He sent a quick text to Babs and the car drove itself off.

Danny squinted at it for a minute then muttered, “fucking rich people.” as he led the way into the building and up to his apartment. Jason knew the vague location based off of the fact that Danny ran cold, but seeing the interior in person was different. By no means was the building one of the nicer ones in the alley, but burnt out lights, chipped plaster and missing chunks of stairs gave the building an almost condemned feeling. Danny led the way with the confidence of someone who had lived there a while, and his two friends followed behind with almost equal confidence, trusting Danny would warn them of anything potentially dangerous.

They made it to the third floor without incident, and Danny led the way to the apartment door he had claimed. “I don’t want to hear a word about my apartment.” He warned, looking mostly at Jason. “The protection measures are your fault, and I haven’t had much money to decorate.”

Jason raised an eyebrow at him, but nodded. Danny looked around for a moment, then reached through the door. There was a click of the first lock disengaging then the slide of the chain lock, before Danny pulled his hand back and opened the door. He pushed it open with one hand only for it to swing open through a bed.

That was different.

“One sec.” Danny reached through with his free hand and lifted the bed like he was carrying a tray of dishes, letting the door go as he carried the bed further into the room. There was a soft thud as he set it down, then Danny straightened up and turned to them. “C’mon in. Welcome to my haunt. Lock the door behind you.”

Danny turned and walked into the bathroom, coming out with an armload of blankets which he spread onto the bed. Had he been sleeping in the tub?

Jason followed the other two into the room, and shut the door behind him, latching it obediently. He took in the bare bulb light, the duct tape on the window, the way the bed had been pushed against the door, the lack of any personal touches save for the bedsheets having comets on them.

Danny went into the attached kitchenette area and opened some cabinets. Inside were snacks all bearing the logo of the local discount store. “I don’t have anything fancy, but help yourselves. I could boil some water for tea or something too.” He gestured to the bed, now taking what seems to have been its usual space before all of this. “Sit. Make yourselves at home. It’s all clean.”

“Danny…” Tucker started, looking around at the impersonal space, but Sam nudged him.

“Tea sounds great. Any of your snacks vegan and cruelty free?” Danny seemed to relax at the question.

“I have a couple of fruit leather things.” He reached into the back of the cupboard he was using as a pantry and pulled out a couple sticks of something from one of those “Ivy Approved” stamped boxes. He tossed one at Sam, then offered it to both Tucker and Jason. Tucker shook his head but Jason shrugged and nodded, so he got one tossed at him too. Only then did Danny open a different cupboard and pull out his one pot, dented and dinged on the sides, to fill with tap water.

“I realize I never got your number.” Jason paused, “For tutoring reasons,” he added lamely. Danny laughed somewhat nervously.

“Well I don’t really have one. I mean. I do. Did. But it doesn’t have minutes. It’s why I hung out in the library all the time.” He looked almost embarrassed, a red flush against his pale skin.

“It’s alright.” Jason waved it off, and gave Danny a roguish grin and a wink. “Anyone sketchy enough in this part of town can pass a message to me.”

Danny pauses and ducks his head, busying himself with the tea. The mugs are chipped but everyone is given one. Danny sits himself on the floor by the bed. Jason looks between where Sam and Tucker are sat on the bed and Danny is sat on the floor. He considers for a moment before sitting on the floor near Danny but far enough away that it wouldn’t be infringing on his space.

Danny sighed. “I know you have questions.” He told Jason.

“Yeah. A lot of them. But they aren’t important right now.”

Danny took a sip of his tea. Raised an eyebrow. “Really.” The question was more of a statement and Jason shrugged.

“I trust you’d tell me if I or my city were in any immediate danger.” He was burning with questions. About his pit. What it meant, why Danny had called it a core, what it could do, why it made him so angry. But they weren’t important right now. Danny had had a hell of a week.

“You’re…weird,” Danny conceded. Tucker and Sam sipped at their tea.

“So Jason,” Sam began, smiling through her dark lips, black nails ticking against the ceramic. “Danny is very important to us. If you’ve been in the GIW’s files you know that.”

Jason didn’t know where she was going, but Danny seemed to. He flushed scarlet. “Sam!” He hissed. “Stop it!”

“What are your intentions towards him? I know based on some quick checks that Red Hood is more of an anti-hero than the rest of your colony of batlings.” Tucker seemed to be joining in on this impromptu shovel talk. Jason would think it, and the effect it was having on Danny, was closer to adorable if it wasn’t funny.

Danny, however, was mortified. His face was flaming and he looked like he was about to melt through the floor. “Guys seriously! Ancients, could you be any more embarrassing?!”

Jason was used to inquisitions like this from his own siblings. He gave a smirk and sipped his tea. “Obviously, I plan to seduce him with power and money and recruit him to my cause of overthrowing my father and corrupting the rest of the Bats and Birds.” Jason gave a wolfish grin then. “Turn Danny into the perfect partner in crime.”

Danny made a choked sound and turned to look at him. Jason met his eyes, feeling Danny’s power push at him, and focusing on reading like amusement back. He had no idea if he did it right but Danny seemed to be mollified and rather than argue he smiled ever so slightly into his mug. “I haven’t ever played the villain properly.” He murmured in agreement.

“Danny!” Tucker and Sam exclaimed in perfect unison.

“What? If I’m going to be in trouble with someone either way may as well have fun with it…”

“Danny, man you can’t be serious.” Tucker scolded softly.

Danny just shrugged. “I dunno. New city new me. And if people think I am a villain, may as well lean into it.”

“Danny, don’t make me call your sister. Jazz is going to be mad enough we came to talk you through this crisis without her.” Tucker made a pretty convincing point by the way Danny frowned some, giving up his joke.

“I could. You don’t have to call my sister about it though.” Danny was definitely pouting.

Jason covered his laugh with a drink from his mug. He had heard this conversation multiple ways, and had it a time or two himself. The soft sound that he made, barely a heavy breath of a sound was enough to turn Sam’s eyes toward him again.

“You’re going to keep him out of trouble, right? He’s a trouble magnet. His hero name should have been Jinx, not Phantom for how much bad luck he attracted.”

Jason looked at Danny, and could very clearly read the slight panic there. The implicit message was clear. Don’t mention the stabbing or broken nose.

“He picked the wrong neighborhood then. But yeah, I’ll make sure people know he’s under my protection.” Danny relaxed then, and Sam seemed to too.

“Good. Because I have work in the morning, and Tucker has to go to class on Monday.”

“Ah shit I forgot…” Danny groaned, “I was going to get a book for our Lit class on Monday and I ran into you and Barbara in the library…. And dropped it.”

“Danny…” Sam sighed, like this was a familiar occurrence.

“I’ve got a copy,” Jason offered, “you can come by my place and read the chapters tomorrow if you want. Save you the walk to and from the library.” He wasn’t sure what made him offer so suddenly, but he felt something warm coil in his gut at the relieved look on Danny’s face.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Since it was kind of my fault you dropped it in the first place, it’s the least I can do.”

Danny smiled up at him then. “Thanks. What time…?”

Jason shrugged. “I wasn’t planning on doing anything during the day tomorrow so whenever.”

“Glad to see Danny isn’t floundering through being forgetful on his own here.” Sam’s tone was fond and amused.

“Hey!” Danny protested.

“Sucks that we’ve been replaced by someone taller and richer though.” Tucker added, nodding forlornly at Jason. Danny’s face colored again.

“Not true and you two know it! Ancients, you guys are assholes!” Danny flopped backwards dramatically, throwing his arm over his eyes. Sam and Tucker shared a look before laughing. “I hate you. So much.” Danny kept his arm firmly over his face.

“We love you too, Danny.”

Jason offered to drive Sam and Tucker back to Bludhaven, but Sam had called an uber. Which, really, explained why she kept a bat. Sam also pulled out a baseball from her bag. “So I’m not intentionally carrying it to be a weapon. I like baseball.” Sam explained with a smile that Jason knew already was filled with false innocence.

“So tomorrow.” Danny began, sitting on his bed. Jason looked over at the pause. “What time?”

He shrugged. “I’m probably not going to patrol much tonight, but…. Maybe early afternoon?”

Danny nodded then. “I can do that. You gonna be okay on the walk home?”

Jason nodded, snorting softly. “Did you forget who I am?”

“No, but everyone expects the vigilantes to always be okay. Nobody ever asks if they will.” Jason was touched by Danny’s concern. If anyone else had asked, he would have been rankled, but Danny was different. Maybe because he was coming from a place of isolation with it.

“Well.” Jason started awkwardly, “I’ll be fine. Thanks.”

“Yeah. Of course.”

“Goodnight Danny.”

“Night Jason.”

[clockwayswrites]

Masked in Amity

CW: Sam doesn't come off great in this, but not Sam bashing. She just has a lot of growing up to do still and knee jerk reacts badly. (I also don't want to listen to any Sam bashing please and ty.)

Sam’s room still looked the same as always. Danny supposed that’s what happened when someone moved out for college but still came home again— especially to a home like Sam’s. There were only a few posters, a few photos, and a knickknack or two that had changed between high school and now. Danny sat on the edge of the bed like always.

“So how’s school doing?” Danny asked into the awkward silence. Silences never used to be awkward between them, or was that just looking back with rose colored glasses?

“Ugh,” Sam gripped and flopped back onto her bed next to Danny. “Why would you even ask me that? You know I hate it.”

“Because it’s what you’re doing right now? It’s a huge part of your life, you can’t just… avoid it.”

“Watch me,” Sam said, bitterly. Her snarled lips looked weird without the dark purple lipstick. “I’m going to get my stupid law degree my parents are paying for and work at some stupid corporate firm Dad has connections at and when my trust fund has made enough in interest I’m going to quite and go open a non-profit and sue all those fuckers I was forced to work for over how they’ve fucked up the environment.”

“Okay,” Danny said. He didn’t want to argue about this. He just hoped this plan worked better than the last three Sam had had before her privilege knocked her down a peg.

“Can I ask about, I don’t know, your time in Chicago at least?”

“Chicago is amazing,” Sam said, wistfully. “Being in Chicago, I mean, I’m sure you know how it is, it really makes it clear how backwater Amity Park is. The things people worry about here are so small compared to what’s out there!”

Danny just hummed in response. He didn’t exactly know what to say to that. It didn’t feel completely wrong, but it wasn’t right either. Worries weren’t a competition like that.

“And the bands!” Sam continued, thankfully changing the topic. “I have got to see so many amazing bands. The local scene alone is amazing and no one knows about them so you can be right up close and a lot of times even talk to the band after. You should come for a show sometime.”

“I can try to,” Danny said. Sam’s music wasn’t usually his thing, but something like that might be fun. It would be different at least. Danny gave her a little smile. “Maybe Tucker could make it out too.”

Sam rolled her eyes. “You know he won’t. When was the last time you talked to him not on the computer or the phone? He’s only here at Christmas when you aren’t.”

“You know how I feel about Christmas, Sam,” Danny said, holding back a sigh. Sure Tucker had been busy lately and that had made him more distant, but he was still one of their trio. “And if we plan something then Tucker can schedule for it. Don’t count him out just because he’s busy.”

“Alright, fine, we can plan something for a bigger show with Tucker,” Sam agreed, “but you still need to come out to something local. They’re really better anyways. We’ll go out to eat first and hit up a bar or three after. I know some really great places— places like you’ve never seen.”

Sam reached up and wrapped her hands around Danny’s neck, pulling him down a little. “It can be a date.”

Something in Danny balked at that. It was an innocent enough comment. Sam and him had dated and then not and then dated again or just had fun together. They’d known each other so long that it was easy to just ebb and flow out of the different levels of a relationship like that.

This time, though, Danny found himself resisting the tide. “Or we can just hang out.”

The almost dreamy smile Sam had crumpled into a frown. “What? I mean, sure, it can, but why? Are you seeing someone?”

“Yes? No? I mean, I’ve been… sleeping with someone, but we’re not dating or anything.”

“That’s okay,” Sam said easily. “I’m not going to make you be exclusive. I don’t want to be either right now; we’re not around each other enough for that and You know that I’ve been sleeping with my roommate sometimes and I’ve met a cute person in study group now too with amazing fingers.”

“No, I know, just…” Danny gave a frustrated noise. Nightwing and him weren’t even close to being exclusive. Someone like Nightwing could have anyone they wanted and with how much he liked sex, Danny was pretty sure Nightwing did have whoever he wanted. Danny was just… convenient for the hero side and Danny didn’t begrudge the other that. It was convenient for Danny too. It was just…

Danny didn’t want to keep living the same cycle with Sam where he was her world for a few weeks or months and then just back to an occasional phone call. He didn’t want to keep being pulled back to Amity Park. Maybe meeting her in Chicago would be different enough, but Sam was still so tied to Amity and always would be by her parent’s money.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this again,” Danny said slowly, feeling the words out as he said them. “Maybe it’s time just to leave us dating in the past?”

Sam dropped her hands and sat up. “Excuse me?”

Danny rubbed at the back of his neck. “Just, we’ve tried being together in a lot of different ways and we always end up in the same place.”

“So you want to leave me in the past?”

“No!” Danny said quickly, trying to get ahead of this before Sam spiraled too badly from making assumptions. “I’d love to come to Chicago and see a band with you! Just… not as a date.”

“Because you want to leave that in the past,” Sam snapped and got up off the bed.

Danny scrambled off also.

“That’s not a bad thing. I enjoyed it and I know you did too. Just more, okay, maybe that wasn’t the best phrase? I mean maybe we shouldn’t go down that road again when we know where it’s going to end.”

Sam crossed her arms. That was never a good sign. “Right, because I’m always going to be a dead end, is that it? Not like you who’s off playing hero with the big names?”

“What? What does me being a Titan have to do with this?”

“Don’t play dumb, Danny, we both know you’re not. You left to go be a famous hero and hardly looked back at Amity Park or me or Tucker or your parents. What if the town needed you?”

Danny threw his hands up in the air. “Why would they need me? I destroyed the portal, came to an agreement with Vlad, made sure my parents couldn’t build another working one— it fixed everything!”

“And then left.”

“So I could help other people!”

“Sure it wasn’t so that you could be famous?”

Danny closed his mouth with a clack.

Sam winced at her own words. “Danny…”

“No.” Danny backed up a few steps from her. “No. You don’t get to— you of all people don’t get to come at me like that! I never wanted to be a hero, Sam! You’re the one who said I needed to protect Amity and you were right, sure, but it’s never what I wanted! You wanted it!”

“Danny, no—” Sam reached out for him and Danny stepped back again, hitting the wall.

“Yes you did, Sam! You did or I never would have had to die a second time after your wish! I lost everything again! I don’t have a future like you and Tucker, I just have being a hero. I just have being dead.”

“Come on Danny,” Sam tried. She moved close again, slowly, like Danny was some sort of feral animal.

Maybe he really was just a caged beast.

“I’m just— I better go. I’m just going to go,” Danny said. In a flash of light he was back to being Phantom. He let himself tip back and phase through the wall.

As he left Amity Park behind, he couldn’t help but think it really said something that he was far more comfortable being Phantom these day than Danny.

--

AN: Here's yous all voted on treat for the day! This comes before Danny showing up at Dick's door, quite upset.

[shirleydanders]

“Reunion”

CHARACTERS: River Cartwright x James ‘Spider’ Webb

SUMMARY: It’s been about a month of silent hospital visits before River hears that Spider’s awake. He goes to see him and their game, as ever, is on.

WORD COUNT: 1,664

WARNINGS: Angst, violent imagery, bad language, deep, deep sadness and weird dudes.

NOTES: This is kind of a fix-it fic because I refuse to accept Spider’s death as laid out in either the book or the show. Also, I tried to do a bit of a character study into why River is so pathetic and Spider is such a fucked up little freak, so I hope you enjoy that.

River knows how it feels. To be worth more vivisected than whole. Maybe he can sympathise. There’s something more compelling about his destruction than the half-life he’s slipping through.

So loneliness will always be preferable to the feeling of being sifted through for something more valuable. He watches as the light in everyone’s eyes dies on contact with him. He carries on talking even though no one’s listening. He was made a pawn, but the game’s over.

He knows he’ll let his guard down eventually. Sooner or later, he’ll offer himself to someone, to be broken down into those familiar disembodied bits. He can feel useful then, if only for a moment.

Pathetic, that’s what most people would call it. River has given up trying to justify himself. He doesn’t have the energy. He’s half a person; half the vital functions. His thoughts dissolve as soon as they arrive. Any emotion feels a hundred miles away. If he does catch up, it’s already petered out.

He thinks about his mother briefly. How she left him on his granddad’s doorstep at seven. Well, of course she did. She could see it, even then. He’s always been a ghost.

He thinks that’s why he doesn’t stay whole for long. Whatever he is isn’t worth being saved, not even an entire being in the first place. And haunting people is so painful. So he lets them take him apart. All the pieces. Until he’s just a husk, and they’ve slinked away.

Spider’s anxieties are different altogether. He is sure of his importance; knows he’s needed. But the idea that someone could overtake what he’s managed to achieve makes him sick. The constant need to sabotage, to prove himself above others. He marks his card as one of the elite, but the conviction he embodies it with doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Taverner never liked him. He doesn’t need her to, so long as she doesn’t like anyone else either. But she did before. She liked River. So when she came with the request to ruin him, a Shakespearean betrayal, he’d done what he had to. There was no place for him but the top of the food chain.

It’s never bothered him. There’s always someone undeserving in the place he should be. Who was the one weeping, smeared across the floor in the torture resistance training? Not him, that’s for sure.

It’s not personal. What River is or isn’t to him has never even been a consideration. It’s London Rules, as it always has been. Covering your arse is a lot easier when you can push someone down to do it for you.

When they meet again, for the first time since Spider woke from his coma, there is that stilted silence – the great unsaid. That has always been a game they played. There’d always been a hushed nature to their… relationship. Before the resentment kicked in, there was something else that was keeping them apart.

Now, even the love’s gone, but the distance remains unchanged. They’re too incompatible for that to be overcome.

Nevertheless, they are drawn together every single time.

River is the first to speak.

‘Long time, no see.’

Spider nods – a smile, half expressed, half tangled up in another moment, resting on his lips. He catches River’s insinuation. That Spider hadn’t seen him, even though he’d visited.

‘You gonna use that against me? The coma?’

‘Well, I’ve never been in one.’

The pair laugh, acidicly.

‘Never too late to try something new.’

The thin veil of playfulness shatters. They both wilt, as though resigning themselves to the opposite. It is too late. It’s all too late, and too messy, and too much.

‘That’s the last time I ask your lot for a favour.’

‘Yeah, well, we’re slow horses,’ River replies, teeth grinding slightly as he forces it out, ‘what did you expect?’

‘I would’ve thought not letting people get shot while you’re running security is common practice, even among your kind.’

They both know they’re not here to speak as though they’re on the record, in some unseen competition. They want to be candid. To possibly even be vulnerable. The trouble is, someone’s got to break first. Spider had never knowingly broken in his life. Ah, but River…

‘I thought you were gonna die.’

Spider’s eyes snap up to River, quiet satisfaction setting his lips in a smile.

‘That was never on the cards.’

‘Be fucking serious, I…’ River began with the anger that only really expresses itself for Spider. Every other inconvenience he felt was par for the course, worth little more reaction than an eye roll, but Spider is the one who gets under his skin. It’s impressive, really, how instantly he can boil River’s blood. He starts again, softer. ‘It just made me think about training.’

The glint in Spider’s eyes extinguishes itself.

‘You know, they say that when you’re in a coma, you’re aware of everything around you. That wasn’t true for me.’ Spider begins the observation in a cold, guarded way. As though armouring up in the terrible event of his vulnerability.

‘I heard nothing. Saw nothing. One minute I was awake, the next minute I was awake again. Nothing in between.’ There’s a pause, as he draws breath like a gun. ‘It’s what I imagine your life’s like at Slough House.’

River looks at him, really looks. If this is a joke at his expense, it hasn’t landed. Spider’s as serious as a heart attack, his words grave.

‘And, so what? You– you feel sorry for me?’

Spider just looks away. Maybe he thought about training too. What they had been through– only for Spider to leave his legacy in blood on a marble floor. For River to still experience a living death, everyday. Maybe he considered how sitting at that desk must feel to someone with the world to give.

Or maybe not.

The blood’s up again in River’s ears. His cheeks are beet red and his jaw aches from clenching. So much has changed. So much has stayed the same. They walk a hall of broken mirrors; a corridor leading to the abstract nothing. The walk had almost ended for Spider, but he clung on. If only to throw River ahead of him.

Why does River continue the cycle? Why is he even here? A voice in the back of his head answers:

Because he’s the only one who knows what to do with the bits you break down into.

‘I haven’t missed you being such a prick.’ River is serious when he says it, but it’s an evasion. It’s pointless too. Spider can see it for the hubris it is.

‘Cartwright,’ River hates when Spider calls him by his surname. Like an old schoolmaster. It’s loaded with association, too. His grandfather, the super spy, and him, Cartwright the Younger. The disappointment. The black sheep no-one had the decency to send to slaughter. ‘They tell me Taverner’s coming down. You might wanna make yourself scarce.’

Something like vengeance flashes in River’s eyes. How sweet it feels when the upper hand begins to guide you.

‘If they’re sending her down in person, there’ll be two choices.’

He let that hang. Maybe Spider had already considered this.

Maybe not.

‘I don’t choose Slough House.’

‘Didn’t think you would.’

‘As a new expert on fates worse than death–’

‘Yes, fine.’

It irks River. That, even while lying in a hospital bed, Spider still commands the room. His confidence, misplaced though it is, is like a dagger between River’s shoulder blades. The first piece begins to come away.

‘When will you be discharged?’

‘End of the week, all being well. Few more tests.’ He’s vague, lest River mistake his condition for any sort of weakness. It was simply a matter of record keeping that he had been shot. Dodging death in a manner almost offensive, and powering ahead like he still has the world at his feet.

Only, it’s starting to settle in. What River had said. When one choice is Slough House, the other is quit the Service. There’s no route back to the Park. This isn’t the minor blip he’s pretending it is. This is as good a death as he’ll ever get.

River might feel sorry for him. Under all the resentment, there might be a tiny sliver of him that wouldn’t wish his life on anyone else. Especially Spider, for some reason.

They sit in their torturous silence. When they built their walls, they’d been too close to see that they’d hemmed each other in with them. Stuck in a hellish limbo between saying nothing and saying everything. The goodwill between them, if it ever had existed – in the liminal ‘before’ – had run dry. There remained only an itch, like a phantom feeling for something that could still exist, but never will again. River needs to be broken down, and James needs to consume him. That was the unspoken order of things. But, to admit it would be the worst betrayal. Instead they sit, in this prison of their own making, thinking of what life would look like, as if they didn’t already know.

‘I’m gonna go.’ As River turns to his coat, he finds the forgotten bouquet beneath it. Spider’s eyes widen. ‘Oh, yeah. I got you these.’ He extracts them, now more than slightly squashed, and hands them to Spider. ‘Lilies, in case you’d died.’

Receiving them now, Spider knows what he should say. He’s opened up a clear line of sight. You got me flowers, you pathetic fuck? But he can’t. Some unseen chain snags around his neck. He holds the flowers, plastic crinkling as he turns them over in his hands.

‘I wouldn’t make it that easy for you.’

River finds himself smiling, despite himself. Despite everything.

‘I’m sure.’ He throws on his coat. ‘Give Taverner my love and… erm– enjoy unemployment!’

‘Fuck you, River.’

‘Fuck you, Spider.’

And although they both wish it weren’t, the world as they’d always known it is back.

[gliyerabaa]

‘Corvid’s are friends’

Okay but doesn’t Elphaba keep crows? I feel like that’s how they meet, somehow. She comes out into the yard one day and there’s just a guy trying to talk to her birds

Took me a good ten minutes to realize the “corvids are friends” thing you mentioned is from the werewolf instincts post

Ok but this is SUCH a good idea. I envision this gliyeraba werewolf/vampire au taking place in a modern setting— even modern au elphaba would befriend crows though. Leaving out food for them and they bring her trinkets in return.

One day she goes out to feed the crows and there’s a guy just standing there trying to talk to them. The birds don’t mind— they’ve grown used to human interaction— but Elphaba approaches the situation with a fair amount of snark.

-

Elphaba steps out onto the porch, morning coffee and biscuits in hand. She had heard the crows making a ruckus outside and decided to take her breakfast outdoors. It’s a beautiful morning, no sense wasting it inside.

She’s caught off guard by a man leaning over the fence of her yard, seemingly trying to talk to the crows. He’s a scruffy man with shaggy hair and blue diamond tattoos covering his dark skin. He’s wearing a flannel that’s a slightly different shade of blue than his tattoos. It’s an annoying clash, further aggravating Elphaba, as if the presence of a stranger on her property wasn’t annoying enough.

“Hey man, go find your own murder to befriend— these crows are mine.”

“Oh, sorry” the scruffy man looks up, “Just trying to see if these birds have any intel on the mailman. Can’t stand the guy.”

“The mailm- Boq? What do you have against him?”

“Nothing. I just like chasing him. I mean— my dog. My dog likes chasing him. Not me. That would be weird.”

“Right.” Elphaba sighs. It was too early in the morning to be dealing with a weirdo like this.

“Those biscuits look good.” The man leaps over the fence effortlessly and lands on all fours. “Can I have one?”

Elphaba’s first instinct is to reach for her phone and call the police— but her phone is inside and even if it weren’t, she knows better than to call the cops on what she assumes to be a homeless man. As off-putting as the stranger’s presence is, she casts aside her reservations and hands him a biscuit.

“Thank you!” He accepts the food and devours it quickly, “My name is Fiyero, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Fiyero. What exactly brings you to the neighborhood, aside from hunting down poor Boq?”

“Y’know, I’m still not too sure. I’ve been a bit of a lone wolf for a while, I’m still trying to figure out where I want to go and who I want to be.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. Though maybe you should refrain from inviting yourself into other people’s property.”

“Ah, yeah…” Fiyero smiles sheepishly, “Still haven’t quite figured that one out.”

Elphaba offers him another biscuit. It’s strange, she thinks, how Glinda had to be invited into Elphaba’s home, but now this man practically invites himself in. Two mysterious encounters in the span of only a few months…

“Elphie, what’s going on out here?” Glinda steps outside, making sure she stays in the shade of the porch. She looks at the man sitting on the porch and smiles, a rare grin that shows off her pointed fangs. “Fiyero!”

“Glinda!” Fiyero leaps up and practically tackles her in a hug.

Elphaba raises an eyebrow, “You two know each other?”

“Of course we do— we went to the Academy together. Didn’t see each other much, considering I was in the Vamp dorm and he was in the Lycan dorm, but..”

Oh. All of Fiyero’s odd mannerisms made sense now— he was a werewolf!

[workingforitallthetime]

oh ok actually girl rutger offering to marry adam for citizenship

anon this is perhaps the most delicious ask that has ever arrived in my inbox. i got it just as i started a long drive and i immediately turned off my podcast and allowed my brain to simply bask in this premise for an hour straight. here we go…

our story starts three years from now, when the gang’s all reunited at phil’s wedding or something like that. around the table at the reception, everybody’s asking adam about his second contract with anaheim. he’s bitching about how there’s some massive cross-border tax hit he’s taking on his contract value because he’s filing as single. [please suspend your disbelief so we can have a good time here, okay?] the boys tell him he should just get married, he can find a wag easy enough. i don’t want a wag, adam says, she’d expect all kinds of shit. he likes living in anaheim with luca, he likes spending his money how he wants to spend it, he doesn’t want a goldendoodle or the hassle of a wag.

rutger returns from the bar with a tequila soda in hand and slides into her seat. you should marry rutger, someone says, she’s not a wag. “goddamn right,” says rutger. “what are we talking about?” adam explains the tax thing and rutger says sure, she’s up for it. it’s not like she has a boyfriend to get in the way. she wants a cut of the tax windfall, though, since adam’s second contract is poised to be a lot richer than hers.

their families shrug and roll with it. the mcgroartys were going to visit ontario this summer anyway, so the fantillis invite a few extra people over for dinner, drop a couple grand on flowers, and bam, they’ve got an impromptu backyard wedding. because this is my story and i get to have whatever i want, pat brisson and brendan are there. pat's not gonna miss two clients getting married, even if it's just a tax dodge.

it’s important that you know that rutger has an absolutely outstanding casual white wedding dress. slim skirt, tailored sleeveless midriff top, suntanned abs on display, one of those fancy ponytails with a section of hair wrapped around the rubber band and the ends curled just so. also white adidas slides.

adam watches rugter make her way down the aisle on her dad’s arm, a bouquet of peonies tipping sideways in her grasp as she reaches out to give fistbumps to their friends. when she reaches adam and he takes her hand, she gives him a big scrunch-nosed smile, like this is a joke just for the two of them, like this is the most fun she’s ever had in her life.  he thought it might feel awkward or weird to fake-marry rutger, but it just feels… easy. maybe because they’ve been friends for so long. probably because it’s just fake.

nolan moyle gets ordained and performs the ceremony, because this is my story and I get to have everything I want. they swap silicone rings (v practical for hockey) and rutger gives adam a kiss on the cheek.

they take a series of wedding photos just in case the IRS asks any questions. after a couple of prom-looking poses, adam tries to scoop rutger up in his arms for a picture, honeymoon style, and she elbows her way right out of there. "don’t fucking do that," rutger says, 'i’m not your wag." she’s a pro hockey player in her own right! Not some wife who gets carried around by her husband. got it, adam says, sorry sorry.

nothing much changes now that they’re nominally married. they still train together part of the summer, go on the same getaways with their friends, have dinner together whenever winnipeg plays anaheim. they definitely indulge a little more on those dinners, get a really nice bottle of wine that rutger makes adam pay for out of his tax savings. all their friends know they’re not seriously married, so it’s not like they even have to keep it a secret when they discreetly hook up with other people. In a weird way, rutger finds she actually feels a lot better about dating now that she’s got a husband. having a shitty first date or a bad hookup doesn’t make her spiral about dying alone and unloved anymore. funny how that works.

the pieces finally start coming together for anaheim, and adam makes the playoffs. the jets don’t. rutger goes to adam’s home games in the first round, because it would look weird if she didn’t, even if she’s still licking her own wounds about another shitty season in winnipeg. adam calls her as she’s packing. he’s really, really sorry, but troy terry’s wife says to bring light-wash jeans and wedges.

rutger has murder in her voice. “please tell me they did not get me a wag jacket.”

"i’m so, so sorry," adam says. "dani got your measurements from the equipment manager. she said it’d be weird if you didn’t have one. they look pretty sick…" he trails off.

rutger asks, dangerously quiet, “does connor have one?” no, adam says, sheepish. they both know connor’s going to be in his usual dark suit, discreetly tucked away in a suite out of view of the cameras, masking his fury about watching mason in the playoffs while the blackhawks continue to suck. exactly what rutger planned to do, with maybe a little less fury and a few more bud lites.

rutger’s voice gets more brittle. “does trevor have one?”

…actually yeah, adam says. it’s not like she can wear it while she’s playing, but she made dani get her one anyway. rutger rolls her eyes. fucking figures. trevor will probably wear it in the dressing room afterwards, just strip off her pads and prance around in a wag jacket with drysdale on the back. fine, rutger says, ungraciously. you fucking owe me so big for this.

it's humiliating, to be shuffled off to the wag box with eighteen other blonde women when rutger’s worked her whole life to be down on that ice. the broad shoulders of her jacket stand out in the row of tiny little identical black leather jackets on the garment rack. even olen zellweger’s figure skater boyfriend looks more at home than she does. she puts on a brave face for the social media photos, though, and once the game starts it’s easy to get swept up with cheering for adam. she wants this for him more than any of these other girls wants it for her man. rutger knows what this means in a way they never will. when adam scores the go-ahead goal, she screams herself hoarse.

at intermission she takes a selfie with her back to the bathroom mirror, holding her phone up to her shoulder so adam’s number is in the frame and tilting her chin so the ends of her ponytail tickle the gold-trimmed fantilli lettering across her shoulder blades. it’s obvious from her profile that she’s smiling. she texts the photo to adam as a peace offering.

the notif is the first thing adam sees when he checks his phone after the game. He opens the photo and immediately hides the screen of his phone flat against his chest, his entire body going tingly like he just got an unexpected sext. he knows better than to tell rutger it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen in his life. he even waits until she leaves town before he makes it his lockscreen. he can do that. that’s his wife, right?

the ducks only get a taste of the postseason that year. the offseason comes too soon, and this year it feels different. not on the ice – skating with adam’s just as fun and challenging as ever. he doesn’t ever take it easy on rutger, and that's what she likes about him. but off the ice it’s different. they remind each other more often: hey, we’re married, right? like when adam stretches out on the bench seat of the boat and rests his head in rutger’s lap for her to swirl her fingers through his damp hair. or when rutger steals adam’s favorite gray hoodie and snuggles up next to him by the firepit. and finally, quietly, when they’re the only ones left at the end of the dock on a moonlit night, and adam tips up rutger’s chin and kisses her.

as summer comes to an end, they’re making real plans. how adam can stay an extra night in winnipeg when the ducks come through town, where they’ll go for the all star break, whether it’s possible to spend christmas together. but then the last weekend they spend together before training camp, rutger catches a glimpse of adam’s lockscreen and everything comes crashing down. that’s how adam likes her, huh? just another identical blonde with his name on her back? what the hell is she doing here, planning to be adam’s wag? she deserves better. she’s got her own career. she deserves somebody who’ll cheer for her. there’s plenty of girls who’d be happy to be adam fantilli’s wag and he can goddamn go and find one of them.

rutger storms off to winnipeg and channels her righteous fury into a career season. she and adam don’t go out to dinner when they’re in anaheim. She cross-checks him instead.

two weeks later, when the news comes out that adam’s torn his [insert muscle or tendon of your choice] and he’s done for the season, rutger knows she didn’t cause it, but she feels vaguely guilty anyway. especially when team usa comes calling for [insert best on best competition of your choice]. adam should be there for team canada, but he won’t be. even if being married didn't work out, rutger’s always had the most fun competing against him, and they won’t have that this year.

adam shows up anyway. He goes to [insert european country of your choice] with rutger’s family, and he meets her on the concourse after games, and he gives her achingly specific compliments about her play, and he says the right sympathetic but not patronizing things after finland beats team usa in OT to take the top seed in their group.

when team usa wins gold, rutger sees her own red white and blue jersey among the families on the ice before she realizes adam’s the one wearing it. she skates toward him slowly, clutching the flag around her shoulders like a protective shell. “good game,” adam says. His voice is a little hoarse, like he’s been cheering for her.

rutger touches her fingertip to the little American flag temporary tattoo on his cheek. “looks good on you.”

“for today I guess,” adam says. His cheek lifts under her finger when he smiles. without his skates, rutger’s almost as tall as he is. rutger kisses him, and kisses him, and keeps on kissing him even when adam scoops her up off the ice, honeymoon style. she wraps her arms around his neck and kicks one skate into the air, and doesn’t protest one bit.

[christian-oc-tournament]

Oh dear time to pull out the big guns! Val Helsing concept art time!

Valentina and her best friend Rafail Morris on their off-time, in their civilian attire. Valentina enjoys the time off but as the story goes along she’s always keeping an ear to the wall for any magical, supernatural, or otherwise weird goings on in the area. In the meantime, some coffee and dumplings and a nice breeze and reading the parts of the paper that aren’t job-related are really nice, especially the reviews for any plays in town or even news on movies that came out. Rafail meanwhile as a changeling is trying to get in touch with his Earthbound Faerie (those not living within the magical realm for one reason or another) roots in any way he can by getting into all the mystical stuff that was popular in the 1920s. He’s been trying to get good at fortune telling and he swears one day he’ll get it right. Changelings also have a rather large appetite so for someone so delicate looking, Rafie can put it away. He and Valentina have been best friends since they were kids, and remained that way even after the spell on him was lifted when he was around thirteen and his changeling nature became apparent (changelings never know who they really are until they reach a certain age so it’s always traumatizing for them, so Valentina’s continued friendship ended up really helping Raf out).

For some concept art and some worldbuilding, every Ranger must at one point cross over into the magical realm, The Other Half, where the Fae dwell, and find a designated group of Seelie to help them finish their training. While most of it is simply testing the Rangers to see if they understand the complexities of Faerie politics and etiquette, there are trials to undergo as well, and those who manage to pass then collaborate with their magical teachers in forging a holy weapon. Valentina’s great granduncle only really ever needed his mind, but it doesn’t hurt to have a blessed lance around.Valentina’s (and Rafail’s as well) designated Seelie are The Gentle Ones (or the Blajini), small, sagely, pious, and kindhearted rat people who live by the rivers where the two worlds become closest.(as for the Gentle One in the picture, don’t worry if the lynx pounces on him, they might be small and, well, gentle, but any Faerie can easily defend themselves, especially from mortal animals)

I might’ve also forgotten to explain the lynx. He’s still in need of a name, but essentially a Ranger after gaining their family badge (see the griffin emblem that Valentina has in her artwork), the thing that allows transport/communication with The Other Half as well as just an occupational symbol, will lead you to an animal companion, as animals are always sensitive to magic and the supernatural and can help locate such things with ease. No matter the animal, once they sense they’ve met their companion, they are bonded, so some are fortunate enough to have the undying loyalty and companionship of a bear or a tiger. A lynx works just as fine though. (Rafail’s companion by the way is a raven).

Old Dracula may be smoke and ash never to rise again in spite of what the movies or video games may tell you, but that doesn’t mean that Valentina has her own rogue’s gallery. Among them is Florin, a rather pretentious/beauty-and-high-art-fanatic vampire who is obsessive over her and drinking her blood (and only becomes moreso when he knows she is a Ranger and ergo “forbidden fruit”). The feeling is not mutual. Valentina does not want to become a vampire and knows he’s a total creep and being a creep is not romantic and no means no and if he can’t respect that then a boot to the head it is. By the way, Valentina’s shoes are steel soled-and-toed, but finished with silver. Comes in very handy when your only option in a fight with a creature of the night is to go melee.

That’s about it for now! Vote Valentina if you so wish, or vote Vellatra instead, either works! Have a good one!

@ladyaster​

[quaranmine]

Okay so per your fanfic Mumbo became a Watcher by “eating Grian’s soul”. Scar and Grian are officially soulmates. Scar getting watcher powers and not even considering it being related to Grian, just going “huh, neat” while Grian is losing his shit.

Scar is fascinated by the allay. 

It’s a creature he’s never seen before, but it drips in illager magic. Vex magic is familiar to Scar, although he’s not entirely sure where he learned it. Vex magic, related closely to illager magic, tastes like blue and diamonds and sticky saccharine sweetness coating the words in your mouth. The allay tastes sweet too, not that Scar would have done anything so weird as actually lick it, of course. But it’s candy blue and smells like familiarity, and Scar would really like to chase it down and try to speak to it, but it just stares and bobs midair and flies away. 

Not even a thank you for freeing it from those nasty pillagers!

There’s other magic in the air too, that Scar can taste. It buzzes more thickly around him, but there is no sweetness. It tastes like sharp lightning and the smell of ozone, and Scar honestly finds it a little unpleasant. 

Scar knows he’s in a death game again. He doesn't know how he knows that, but he does. He also knows it’s not the first time he’s been in a death game, but the previous games slip in and out of his mind. Sometimes he remembers a shelled-out castle on a desert hill and the feeling of bloody knuckles, and sometimes he remembers a lonely building on a forested hill and the tang of bitter loneliness and lava. Other times, like right now, the memories feel fuzzy and out of reach. 

He doesn’t really know where he was before the death games. Probably the same place he learned about Vex magic, he thinks, trying to link the muddled memories. He doesn’t know anything about this new magic, though. 

Scar is startled to catch his reflection in the river and see that he has wings. He thinks that maybe he’s had wings before, of different types, but never anything like these. Blue is familiar, not purple. These wings are wide and purple and have large eyespots that put Scar on edge. Animals weren’t supposed to be scared of their own eyespots, right? Those were just to scare off other creatures, right? The eyespots blink, sending a spike of adrenaline through Scar’s heart, and he blinks back. 

Scar twists around and tries to catch a glimpse of the wings, because they’re so large that surely he would have noticed them by now, and only catches the faintest glimmer of shimmering air. He tries to move them, and he can feel the physical sensation, but he can’t see them except in his reflection. When he tries to touch them, they’re not there. 

Ooookay. 

Before Scar can contemplate the not-quite-there wings any more, he hears people down the canyon. It’s Joel and Etho from earlier, and it looks like they’ve met up with Grian as well. He should probably go say hi, and try to forget about the weird acrid magic taste and wings.

There’s talk of soulmates this time around, about how they’ve all been bound to another person on the server. They’ll feel each other’s pain and die if the other one does. Scar has already felt several bumps and scrapes from his soulmate, and had admittedly probably passed on a great deal worse right back at them. Joel and Etho are a pair, it looks like, but Scar’s still got no idea who his soulmate is. 

They chat for a while, but Scar’s allay has wandered off again annoyingly. He wants to keep it close, and figure out what about it drips in illager magic, and if it’ll speak to him. It’s not looking good on that front though, because it won’t even stay close to him. 

“Ugh,” Scar says. “I wonder where it went this time.”

and 

his

vision

s h a t t e r s.

It’s like looking in a kaleidoscope, or maybe a complicated mosaic with many pieces of different glass. Or maybe it’s like that time a creeper exploded and broke the windows on a base on a server he doesn’t quite remember, or maybe it’s like the newly formed glass beads in the epicenter of explosion-melted sand in the desert.

Scar has never seen anything like it, and he’s never seen as many things as he can see right now. He takes a moment to gape in awe, realizing that most of the things he’s seeing aren’t anywhere close to him. He can see people on the server exploring and mining, starting to make bases and–this is the coolest thing that’s ever happened to him. This is going to be so useful for hunting people down later, he thinks. 

Joel and Etho are behind him, but he can see their faces anyway. They look . . . alarmed. Grian is next to them, and his face is sheet white and his eyes are wide and he starts to shout something after Scar-

“Found the allay!” Scar whoops, and takes off after it. The kaleidoscope falls apart, leaving only normal vision. He doesn’t need it anymore, because he found the allay anyway. He thinks he hears Grian yell something in the background, but it’s probably not important. Grian’s probably just mother henning him again, like he always does, and Scar’s got allays to find and bases to build and pandas to breed. 

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

When Grian finds him later and drops a stalagtite on his head, Scar feels very, very, very stupid. 

He’s used to being oblivious; he’s not an idiot, he knows he misses things and doesn’t always understand words or jokes. But this is, admittedly, bad even for him, and he feels embarrassed for running around with Grian next to him for so long while not even realizing that the soul bond of the server has tied the two of them together. There’s a sort of pain reflected in Grian’s eyes, which are green, which are not the color they’re supposed to be, but Scar can’t quite remember what color they’re supposed to be.  

It feels familiar. Grian’s anguished cries at Scar’s shenanigans feel familiar. It feels familiar the way Grian hooks him with a fishing pole and drags him off and mutters in an affectionately-annoyed way about not being able to take him anywhere, and how he needs to come back with Grian to the base he’s built for both of them now. 

 Grian assigns Scar the job of widening the perilous bridge across the canyon while he builds the wall around their future base site. Scar places the blocks diligently and knows he’s partially been given this job because of the safety net of water beneath him. Grian’s always been pretty good at keeping him alive. 

He gets bored halfway through. It’s a long bridge. He remembers the shimmery wings on his back, and thinks maybe, just maybe. He spreads them out wide, like he’s done this before. Maybe he has? The air where the wings are shimmers like the heat above a campfire but much colder. The sharp ozone smell of magic is back in the air again. He’s too far above the water to see the real reflection of the wings. 

Scar spreads his not-quite-there wings, and jumps off the bridge. 

Grian shouts, “NO! SCAR!” and spreads his feathery wings, and jumps off the side of the canyon wall. 

Scar does not fly. He tries, he really does, but he does not fly. In fact he falls, hard, and lands with a crash into the water below. He falls just far enough for it to sting on impact, if not enough to actually take damage from. 

Moments later, Grian plummets into the water next to him. He breaks the surface with a gasp, and shakes his head, his wet hair flinging droplets at Scar. He’s very angry. “Scar,” he hisses. “What is wrong with you.”

“What?” Scar asks defensively. “It’s just water!”

“Don’t go jumping off cliffs when you’re soulmates with me!”

“It’s just water,” Scar repeats. “I wasn’t going to hurt myself by falling into the water. Hey, what’s up with you?”

Grian doesn’t have a response for that, but Scar feels a flicker of a memory, of falling off a different cliff with Grian yelling after him. It’s gone as soon as it arrives.

“Just be careful,” Grian mutters instead, and starts swimming toward the bank. Scar follows. “What did you think was going to happen when you did that, anyway?” Grian asks when he climbs out of the river. 

“Oh, I was trying to use my wings,” Scar says brightly, smoothing his wet hair back. 

Grian’s gone pale again. “Your what?” he asks. 

“My wings,” Scar says. “Can you see them? I can’t, except for in the reflection. I can see ‘em in the river right now. They’re honestly pretty useless if I can’t even fly with them or use them. Hey, can’t you fly?”

Grian shakes his head and stares, but his gaze is fixed on the river and Scar’s reflection rather than on Scar himself. “No, my wings are clipped . . .” he says quietly, trailing off. 

He tried to fly after Scar anyway, though. 

“Are you alright?” Scar asks.

Grian tears his gaze away from Scar’s reflection and meets his eyes. He looks shaken. “We need to talk,” he says. “Not here. In the base. There’s something I need to tell you.”

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

Grian is quiet in the few hours that follow, and Scar feels like he’s going to burst from anticipation, but he follows him around anyway and helps him put up a temporary birch wood shelter where they can rest their heads. Grian apologizes, and says he’s not meant to keep Scar in the dark for this long, but he doesn’t feel like he can discuss it out in the open. Scar just nods. Defensible locations are important in death games. Sometimes defensible locations are rooms safe from prying eyes, too. 

When they finally finish, Grian curls up against the wall on his bed, gripping the rough wool blanket in his hands. There’s a lantern flickering between them that’s the only light source in the room. Outside is lit with torches, but their light does little to touch the darkness in the room. It’s late at night, and Scar is sleepy, but not so sleepy as to miss whatever this is. 

“I’m not human,” Grian starts with. 

“Well, you do have wings,” Scar says. 

“No, I’m–yes, I have wings,” Grian says. “That’s why you can see wings in your reflection. Because I have them.” Scar is puzzled, and he must look it too, because Grian speaks again: “We’re soulmates. You’re sharing part of my soul. And you’re getting traits from me.”

“Okay,” Scar says. It makes sense, he supposes. “How come I can’t use them?”

“I’m getting to that.”

“Oh.”

“I’m a Watcher,” Grian says, and he searches Scar’s face for some type of reaction. 

“Watchers are interesting creatures,” Scar says slowly. “Never met one before. Heard they can be quite nasty, but I’d rather meet one first before making any decisions.”

“Scar!” Grian cries half-heartedly. “You’ve met one! Me!”

Scar contemplates this. “Well, you’re not that nasty, so that’s good to know,” he says. Sure, Grian could be chaotic and even violent, but he was friends with Scar. At least in this iteration of the death game. Scar felt like they were friends elsewhere, too. He thinks if Watchers are like Grian, then he can live with that, provided he’s on the right side of whatever TNT Grian is holding. 

Grian’s breath catches, and he looks away from Scar and down at his hands. “It’s not me you need to worry about,” he says finally. “The Watchers are the ones in charge of the death games. They’re the reason we’re here at all, and they’re the reason you can’t remember anything right.”

For the first time since they arrived in this world, Scar feels a prickle of alarm about his memories. It’s like they’re all shuffled around and he’s trying to view them from far away through smudged glass. Before, he hadn’t been too worried about it, but what Grian’s telling him is far more . . . sinister sounding. Scar’s not sure he appreciates someone messing with his head. 

Grian continues. “I wasn’t supposed to be there, in the game. Or, rather, I wasn’t, but now they’re mad at me, so they’ve trapped me in here anyway. And I can’t use my Watcher powers because who better to suppress them than other Watchers? They know I’m here and they know what to do to bind me.”

Scar reaches out and traces the tops of Grian’s wings, feeling the soft feathers. Grian stiffens at his touch, before relaxing. “That’s why your wings are clipped,” Scar starts. “Because they don’t want you to fly?”

“Everybody’s on equal footing in Double Life,” Grian chuckles darkly. “Can’t have one person fly when nobody else has the opportunity, now can you? We don't have elytra here.”

“And that’s why I can’t use my shimmery wings?”

“You’re soulbound to me. If these were . . . normal circumstances, if being soulbound ever happens at all in normal circumstances, I think you’d have wings like me. But I’m not supposed to have Watcher powers here, and neither are you, so your wings can’t fully form.”

“Darn,” Scar says. “I really wanted to fly.”

Grian shakes his head. “Is that all you got from this?”

“No!” Scar says. “No, I got that . . . “ he looks in Grian’s eyes, and sees fear and vulnerability reflected back in them. “I got that you’re a Watcher, and the other Watchers are bad and angry at you, but you’re not bad. And they’re the reason we’re here and they’re keeping you from using your powers.”

Grian smiles sadly. “Don’t say I’m not bad. You haven’t seen the end of these death games yet. You don’t know what I could do.”

“I know you’re my soulmate,” Scar says, “and it doesn’t matter what you do because everything we do will be together anyway.”

There will be no fight to the death, he thinks out of nowhere. No broken bloody knuckles and desert heat and last man standing. We’ll live together or we’ll die together with the soul bond tethering us.

A tear drips down Grian’s cheek, and he wipes it away quickly. “Right,” he whispers.

After a moment spent composing himself he says, “I don’t know why you could use the Watcher sight. Not even I can use it right now. But I don’t think it’s a good idea to keep using it. I don’t think you should draw any attention to yourself with it. If you look for too long, something else might look back.”

Scar frowns. “What’s the Watcher sight?”

“When you went chasing the allay? Many eyes? Freaky looking?”

“Ohhh,” Scar says. “The kaleidoscope! I didn’t see any freaky eyes, but my vision went sort of weird for a while. I don’t know how I did that, but it sure was cool.”

Grian shakes his head incredulously. “Well, you looked like a Watcher for a moment. I have no idea what Etho and Joel must’ve thought. They didn’t even bother to ask me any questions, they just moved on straight away.”

“Are you sure I can’t use it? It would be really useful for hunting people down, especially when we’re on our red lives. Like, I could see anywhere within the world border, it was neat.”

“No.” Grian spoke definitively. “We’re all equal in the game. You cannot upset that balance or the Watchers will be angry. And . . . I don’t want them to know about you,” he finishes. 

“How would they not know about me?” Scar asks. “They put me in here, didn’t they? Assigned me to you?” 

“They might not know you’ve gained some of my powers. They might not know that what you have gained isn’t entirely inhibited,” Grian says. He grabs both of Scar’s wrists roughly, and pulls him closer on the bed, until their heads are almost touching. “They can’t take you. They can’t find you interesting, compatible, whatever. They can’t know about this, because if they do they might . . . Can you be careful for me? Can you do this for me and not attract their attention?”

Scar’s heart has picked up, beating faster in his chest with every word. Does it beat in time with Grian’s, with the thread of their soulbond? He takes a deep breath. Grian’s eyes are wide and serious. His hands are warm around Scar’s wrists. The sharp tang of magic is still in the air and Scar thinks he should have been more wary of it in the beginning. 

Vex magic is sweet. This is bitter. 

“I’ll try,” Scar says after a long moment. “But how do we fix this? How do we get away from the Watchers?”

Grian lets go of Scar’s wrists and leans back against the wall in a move that almost feels like defeat. He closes his eyes, and speaks with dull certainty. “We don’t get away from the Watchers. We just play to win.”

[winns-stuff]

LO RANT:

I’m really finna have to keep this short because I feel like this has to be said by me or else I’ll pull out my eyeballs. What was the point? I mean really, what was the point of anything honestly. Now that they’ve officiated what they were I feel literally nothing. I feel like if I was still into this series like I was a few years ago I’d still be incredibly disappointed. Hopefully this will be a short rant because I really have zero critiques this time or points other than disappointment.

That had to be the most dragged out slow burn in my life. I personally love slow burns, it’s one of my biggest passions and the key theme that really holds me when it comes to reading the more romantic comics and books, so this being literally the only climax to Lore Olympus is really making me feel emptier than a hollow tree (probably not a good comparison). We’ve been waiting for this for how many years people? And now we finally get this lazy and rushed reveal. This is honestly so annoying to me, like I’m in between the moods of being annoyed, disappointed, and emotionless. There was nothing truly uplifting and romantic or even new that’s been happening within the chapters. Persephone and Hades are literally doing the exact same things they’ve been doing and actually let’s go down to my next point.

The reason why I say this was a poorly done slow burn because there was no real build up to get to this point. I’m not even kidding! The reason I love slow burns is because it takes character development and romance to a new level, character A could absolutely despise and hate character B but over the course of the novel and after multiple interactions over the course of MONTHS and YEARS they start to see each other in a new light and more complex feelings and relationships could bubble up from just the development alone! Or two characters secretly in love with each other but knowing about the circumstances of their situations causing them to want to reject those feelings over and over despite their various interactions showing the audience of how fondly and lovingly they see each other until they finally reach the climax of them accepting their emotions and developing and fixing their circumstances while working their way through their relationship. You see what I’m getting at? The whole point of slow burns is to have the characters build their attraction with each other over the course of the comic, to have them not want to engage in anything romantic even though they’re yearning for it, and it doesn’t even always have to be just about romance it could be wanting to start a budding friendship! But it’s all about the buildup and development between two characters getting to that point, there’s never been room for Persephone and Hades to have any buildup because since day one they’ve been all over each other, lusting after one another if you will, and displaying obvious acts of affection publicly and behind closed doors. That’s why it didn’t really matter to me when they officiated that they were dating because I’ll be real with you, it seemed to me like they were already dating with how they were acting.

I’m so serious! Who kisses, cuddles, SLEEPS WITH, buys things with, cooks with, cleans with, and hangs out with someone that they think of as a friend?? Or better yet, a stranger! They’ve been doing all of these romantic things with each other whether you like it or not without any sort of development. They’ve been like this and there’s zero need for development if everything was already like that. But that’s also what makes this so weird for me, they’ve done all this relationship level stuff without even talking or really getting to know each other on a personal level, why do you now want to start officiating yourselves in a relationship even though you were doing all of this weird shit with him? Why do you now wanna get to know him after you’ve all been kissing each other and stuff?? Wouldn’t you want to know more about him before hand?? I just don’t understand it. It’s really weird to me and giving me more evidence as to why I think that the only emotions they’ve been feeling is lust.

Something else that made me shake my head was the Zeus moment. Already talked about why I was annoyed with them being sooooo upset at Zeus but I’m not talking about that right now. While I’m actually happy that Zeus apologized for his little power trip moment and stuff, what I’m annoyed at (very petty of me by the way) is the fact that he had to fucking kiss her hands and stuff. Like damn, you couldn’t just allow Zeus to apologize to Persephone like a normal person. No I do not give any fucks if Persephone “defeated” Kronos I’m gonna be real with you, that was not Persephone’s damn win and I’m never giving it to her because her bringing peace to the underworld was done by the pomegranate and Tartarus and those two are the only ones I credit for that. Not Persephone. I’m just so sick of Persephone being treated like she’s just important to everyone’s lives, even people who don’t know anything of her (referring to the court room after Persephone got exiled, like come on let’s be real no one would’ve blinked an eye if this comic made sense) and I think that’s just bullshit. I was so sad when that happened, like damn they done got Zeus too I really thought he would hold out for longer.

Also fuck Persephone again for literally forgetting about her mother for the 124th time in this entire fucking comic. Listen, I understand “wow there was so much stuff that happened before how can she remember her mom” but if she can fucking remember Hades’ immature useless ass while the Underworld is under siege (that kinda rhymed) she can definitely remember her own mother during a time where she’s literally not doing shit but once again being at Hades’ house. I hate that everyone keeps forgetting about Demeter and mistreating her when she literally protected and defended everyone even Hera and Hestia, both of them being apart of the six fucking traitors, forgot about Demeter’s existence and didn’t even try and bring her up. Whoever truly hates Demeter and want bad things happening to her, please never interact with me because you and me will never be fucking cool. As someone with a worser mom than Demeter that has to deal with her on a daily basis I actually wish that I was protected and defended as much as Demeter defends Persephone, not saying that she shouldn’t complain or anything like that but I’m just saying I’m tired of people acting like she’s a fucked up mom. There’s tons of fucked up moms in the world and Demeter is an actual saint compared to them. Also if your fav is Hades, Ares, and Hera and you despise Demeter to the point of wishing death on her please block me or something because not only is that disgusting for you to even do but it’s also hypocritical as fuck because your faves have been worser to Persephone than the person you’re accusing.

Anyways this rant was very very biased, like none of this is fact and this was purely my opinion and my interpretation of it. Also about the last point if you do like those characters I didn’t put that there to shame you or say that I don’t like you or anything like that I was actually speaking to the fans of those characters who really wish violence and death on Demeter to just discontinue with interacting with my page, if you enjoy those characters that’s completely fine and I mean no hate to you at all! But anyways like I always say these rants are really meaningless outlets for me to ramble about my opinions and my emotions and nothing I say should be used as hate fuel or fact because at the end of the day I am only one person and I encourage everyone to find their own opinion. If you enjoyed this rant that’s fine and if you didn’t that’s also fine!

[phoenixyfriend]

Uncle Ben and Little Luke

AKA we combine several types of time travel for maximum Soft Chaos, let’s go

EDIT NOW THAT I’VE WRITTEN THIS UP: jfc this ended up much angstier than initially intended uhhhhhhhhhh sorry

So a common enough thing I’ve seen in time travel fics is characters getting de-aged when tossed back physically, to neither the age they should be in that time, nor the age they were from the time they left, but whatever is most convenient. This is usually de-aging OT Obi-Wan into his TCW self, for reasons relating to, chiefly, removing the damage of Tatooine absolutely destroying his body alongside PTSD-driven alcoholism, but also because fic writers are horny, and Ewan McGregor playing a late-thirties negotiator is on average more appealing to people than Alec Guinness playing a vaguely feral desert hermit.

So, here’s how it plays out:

We take Luke and Ben from some point in the OT. There are a variety of options depending on how angsty we want it to be. My first instinct is ‘right after Owen and Beru die’ but I want to have that sweet angst where Luke knows that his dad is Vader and that Obi-Wan was trying to convince him to kill his own father without telling him that.

We’ll go with shortly after Bespin, and then they end up significantly before TPM. The Obi-Wan of the timeline proper is, eh, let’s say eighteen. Not really ready to be a knight, but old enough that we don’t have to worry about “if we go save Shmi, do we somehow wipe out Anakin?” which is absolutely a worry. Anakin is a toddler, and is in no place to be evil, on account of being literally two years old. He can’t even explode people with his brain yet.

Now, Ben finds himself mid-thirties, as is traditional. He’s not upset at this, because his joints hurt so much less than they used to! His knees aren’t exactly teenage-perfect, but by the Force are they better than they were in the years before he died! His hair has color! He doesn’t have arthritis! And, goodness, no physical withdrawal symptoms! The psychological aspect is still there, but nonetheless, he’s in much better shape than he last remembers being.

Luke looks like he’s about six. He was recently twenty-two. This is not an upgrade. Ben keeps having to carry him. He can’t see over the counter when they enter a bar for information. He can’t enter the bar in the first place. He’s very annoyed by all of this.

Ben is not annoyed. Ben is having a lot of emotions, actually, but annoyance isn’t one of them. He didn’t get to help raise Luke the way he might have if Anakin hadn’t lost his shit, okay, he sees a small Luke and he wants to hug him and cry.

Luke would like to be able to purchase a speeder part without the lady at the stall asking him if he needs his “dad’s” permission.

Once they figure out when and where they are, they need to decide where and how to leave. There are general shenanigans to gamble their way into enough money to hire a ship. They are in the ass end of nowhere, but definitely not Tatooine. There appears to be a jungle. There appears to be a significant variety of man-eating creatures. There appears to be a temple to the Force of questionable origin. None of this is actually helpful, except for the moment they find a “baby’s first lightsaber” in the temple.

Luke only has one hand and, being a six-year-old, his body is growing too fast for him to bother with getting a wired-in prosthesis the way he could as an adult. He can get a more basic prosthesis, but nothing that attaches to the neurons. He’ll outgrow it too fast.

He’s tiny and he’s not used to doing things with just one hand. He uses the Force to do what one hand can't, and every time someone tries to tell him he's misusing the Force he whaps them with the empty sleeve.

So, you know, they find out what year it is. Ben has a breakdown. Luke is upset that he left behind his friends. Ben admits to him that Leia was his twin. Luke stares in horror because dude, she kissed him, you couldn’t have mentioned this earlier???

Ben points out that Beru and Owen were keeping Luke away from him for nineteen years, and then they had about three days of awkward travel to find Leia in the first place, and then Ben died. He didn’t have a whole lot of time to figure out how to tell him.

(This sparks an argument that lasts several days. All onlookers assume that Ben’s son is throwing a tantrum. He doesn’t correct them, even though this is a very valid reason to be upset, because the truth is much harder to explain.)

Sooooo they travel. Mostly, Ben plays Sabacc, cleans house, and pays their way towards Coruscant. Luke still really wants to learn to be a Proper Jedi, even though Ben is pretty sure that Luke would have... a lot of difference of opinion with the Temple, but sure. Coruscant. They can at least stop by, and see Qui-Gon, and Mace, and Quinlan, and Bant, and everyone else that’s still alive and not tragically deceased in the horror following the start of the Clone Wars and then the birth of the Empire, and Ben can have a nice sob over all his dead friends being alive again.

Ben is only barely holding it together while Luke is in the room with him at any given point. But it’s fine! It’s fine. He’s fine. All of his loved ones have come back to life! It’s great! HE’S FINE.

He is not fine.

Luke is also grieving all the people who haven’t been born yet, but he’s... significantly more okay than Ben is.

The closer they get to the Core, the more often people just assume Ben is Luke’s father, and then look shocked and uncomfortable when Luke flatly calls him by his name, and they just... compromise. This is the point at which Luke starts calling him “Uncle Ben.”

Ben cries in his bunk later that night. Luke overhears it and wonders how the HELL Ben is more unstable now, when there’s a chance to fix things and no Vader or Empire trying to kill or capture both of them, and all his friends are alive.

(Luke will later learn a lot about PTSD and realize this is actually a fairly normal situation, to process significant events and emotions only after gaining safety or catharsis.)

(Twenty years on a ball of sand with an alcohol addiction and debilitating fear of the man you raised as your own brother is not, in fact, safe or cathartic.)

At any rate, they’ve settled into that pattern by the time they reach the Inner Rim. The Inner Rim is the part of the galaxy at which they’ve collected enough money (and mental stability) to travel a little better, and to take a few more risks.

Risks like “manipulate people with those baby blues.”

Ben tells Luke that he’s a menace, after he pouts so cutely that he gets a free scarf added on to a purchase that Ben makes. Luke responds that Ben has no room to talk, since he flirted a free breakfast out of that one inn owner.

Also, Luke is currently physically six. That is objectively a situation that sucks. He deserves to use it for all it’s worth if he’s stuck like this.

“You know, if you keep wearing all-black and looking longingly at the velvet cape and Space Chanel boots, the temple is going to worry that you’re a darksider.”

“Uncle Ben... you told me, yesterday, that I sparkle so brightly in the Force that it’s almost blinding.”

“Yes, but the gloves--”

They don’t agree on this, but Ben relents. He does actually understand good fashion, unfortunately, and he’s not unaware of how much Leia taught Luke about such things.

Luke’s about forty years ahead of the curve, of course, but Skywalkers are prone to such things. It’s usually in regards to technology, granted, but...

They get to Coruscant. Ben is very obviously a Jedi. He knows all the right words and walks like a Soresu master and feels warm and comforting in the Force. They let him in with minimal questions. They note down “my first padawan left the order to have a child, but died shortly after; I consider Luke here to be my nephew, and have raised him as such,” and move on.

Luke is vaguely annoyed because he already had an uncle (and aunt) that raised him, but he admits that a person can have more than one uncle. He can live with this. Ben was more family to Anakin than Owen was, in some ways, so it’s kind of true. Luke is even working on feeling more childish affection for Ben instead of the complicated mess of emotions that come from being lied to about some very large and important subjects, and then seeing the person saying those lies have regular emotional breakdowns due to something as small as Luke saying he likes the curve of the hull on that freighter.

(Apparently he sounds just like his father did as a child. This is almost heartwarming.)

The thing is! The thing. The thing is, they almost make it to the Halls of Healing to get looked over for weird viruses, or Outer Rim Parasites, or whatever the hells needs to be happening. They almost make it without Ben having a flashback to dead younglings or brainwashed troopers or the declaration of a Sith Empire. They almost make it without incident.

Then Ben sees Qui-Gon, and freezes, and does not move again.

Luke cannot get him to restart.

People are staring.

They haven’t even made it to Medical, Uncle Ben, come on.

Young, local Obi-Wan comes over and asks if there’s something he can do to help. Or maybe this “Ben” knows Qui-Gon? Master Jinn doesn’t recognize Ben, but maybe Luke knows more?

Luke does know more, but what Luke actually says is “he probably needs a mind healer.”

(Ben will not appreciate this.)

(Ben is unfortunately standing in the middle of the hallway and completely unresponsive, and is unable to argue with this assertion.)

(Ben is pretty much proving this assertion entirely correct, actually.)

Obi-Wan is helpful, if a little bitchy in the manner of most late-teens individuals, and offers to help get Uncle Ben down to the Halls of Healing. It involves Obi-Wan gently pushing on Ben’s shoulders, and Qui-Gon offering to carry Luke so he can be in Ben’s sights (because Ben is a Mystery, and Qui-Gon is quite fond of those, so he wants to stay involved). Ben kind of just... shuffles on down.

There are medical tests. They ask about how Luke lost his hand. He refuses to talk about it. They ask how Ben got all his scars. Luke says he doesn’t know. They ask if he knows why Ben looks like he’s been through a war. Luke says it’s because he probably was.

They check for foreign viruses. They find evidence of thus-far-unpatented vaccinations. They ask Luke if he knows what he’s vaccinated for.

“How would I know? I’m six.”

They agree that this is a good excuse.

(It is not. He’s lying. They do not know this.)

They do some more tests. They find a lot of questionable medical bullshit in Ben’s body. Most of this is from the clone wars, but they don’t know this. Someone realizes they haven’t gotten a ping back from the Shadow Network regarding “do we have permission to pull the medical file of a Jedi that isn’t in the normal database? We’re assuming you know who he is, since we don’t.”

The Shadow Network does not know who Ben is.

The healers, of course, go “huh, that’s weird, but maybe the name he gave his nephew was fake. We can’t exactly ask ‘Ben’ for more details right now. We already had to sedate him. Let’s check the DNA!”

The DNA pulls up as Obi-Wan Kenobi.

The padawan who brought this guy in two hours ago.

“Huh, that’s weird. Let’s call in Kenobi and ask if he knows what’s going on.”

Obi-Wan absolutely does not know what’s going on.

They ask Luke.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he says, lying through his teeth and not even pretending otherwise.

“You’re not a very good liar,” teenage Obi-Wan tells him.

“I’m not trying to be,” Luke says. “Can you get Master Yoda? I feel like we’re going to need him.”

They normally wouldn’t get Yoda on the request of a six-year-old, but they also normally don’t have a catatonic thirty-something Jedi who looks like he’s been through a war popping up in the medical database as the pimply teenage padawan that broke his pinky trying to do a Badass Ataru Flip last week.

Or... whatever Luke i... is... oh dear.

“Young one,” Qui-Gon asks, while people whisper-shout behind him, not realizing he’s cutting the Correlian Knot and just asking the kid himself. “Do you know why your midichlorian count is so high? It’s almost unheard of.”

“Uncle Ben said my dad was the Chosen One,” Luke says, because he is capable of being a little shit and is actually really eager to let Ben deal with some of the fallout. He feels for the man, really, but he’s also tired of being the one to field every single question.

Also, the expressions that pass on Qui-Gon’s face are hilarious.

(Luke may or may not be more affected by his six-year-old brain than he would like to admit.)

“Thank you,” Qui-Gon says, sounding more than a little strangled about it.

It takes another three hours for Ben to wake up.

He listens to the questions. He hears what they say his ‘nephew’ said. He looks at Luke.

“Is this revenge for not telling you about Leia?”

“It’s not revenge,” Luke does not lie. “I just don’t know how to explain it.”

“It’s pretty easy to explain.”

“It’s not my secret.”

“This is revenge for the Leia thing.”

“No,” Luke says. “Revenge for the Leia thing was when I ate a live frog in front of you.”

This is the point at which someone interrupts and points out that they appear to be stalling.

“Oh, he is,” Luke tells them. He gestures at Ben. “I can’t tell you more, because it’s more his story than mine.”

“I’m afraid, Master, that I am very likely to have an emotional breakdown if I allow myself to consider the reality of this situation for longer than the fraction of a second I already have,” Ben reports, full of false cheer. “Suffice to say, I am far from stable and have only held out this far for Luke’s sake.”

“Can you explain why you have my DNA?” Obi-Wan asks, as the person who’s most concerningly involved in this situation.

“You can,” Ben says, smiling like there is absolutely nothing wrong in the slightest, ever. “I’m you, from the future. I actually died and spent a few years dead before coming back. I’m not sure why I’m younger than I was when I died, but I appreciate being able to put on my shoes without my knees attempting to mutiny.”

“He needs a mind healer,” Luke reiterates, in case the strained grin hasn’t made it clear. “So do I, but not as much.”

“I have felt literally every person in this Temple save for Luke and Yoda die,” Ben reports, looking a shade more manic than a few seconds earlier. “It’s very overwhelming to feel you all being alive again. I may be approaching a mental breakdown, and I’ve been rather strictly advised against using alcohol to treat my traumas again.”

Luke kicks him in the thigh. It’s not a very hard kick, because he is very small, and he does actually like Ben. “I’m not letting you turn into an old drunk again.”

After several seconds of silence, a healer quietly suggests that everyone clear the room, and asks if someone could fetch Master Yoda as the youngling requested.

(THIS IS ALMOST THREE THOUSAND WORDS. I started it less than two hours ago. Why am I like this.)

[cruelsxmmcr]

bluemmings​:

there’s a split second that makes her doubt the terrace, that he’s brought her here to hide her instead of wanting her just to himself. those doubts leave her the second he’s pulling her onto his lap, a place she’s realising she loves to be as her hands drape across his shoulders, fingers trailing the nape of his neck absentmindedly.  “ it’s okay, don’t apologise. ” adela really doesn’t need him to when she knew it was going to be weird for him coming back, he’d already ensured she’d be fine with putting herself in this situation and she is. the only thing that’s really rattled her is bash choosing to switch, assuming she was his choice, but adela’s more intrigued by whatever drama will be unfolding with all the other couples and hoping whatever josh or charlene has in store for naomi will keep her too preoccupied for dylan. she half expected him to regret his choice as they stepped into the villa, but she’s glad they spent their night in each others arms, stealing soft and tired kisses, it makes her feel secure in whatever they have right now. “ i’m actually feeling really good. ” she smiles against his lips, pecking the corner of his mouth and trailing kisses against his jaw. other than mali, adela didn’t think the recoupling was that bad, but she also has no connection to more than half of the people in here. it’s obviously different for him.  “ how are you feeling ? ” and she knows he spoke to naomi, and even if he hadn’t, their words at each other last night had some sting to them. “ any regrets ? ”

Dylan’s been honest with Adela about what she should expect coming back with him. He’s wanted to sort his business out as soon as possible, even though things weren’t very simple, but still, he’s appreciative she understands, and although they still have a few things to talk about, he’s more than happy to have some alone time with her. “Yeah? I’m glad to hear that. Have you met everyone else yet?” He smiles against her own lips, moving his head to the side as she peppers kisses across his jaw. If her lips reach his neck, it’s game over and he’ll have to put his all into keeping some semblance of control and not forget about the talk and just make out with her instead. He gently takes her chin in his fingers so he can look at her and presses a kiss, then another, then another to her lips. “You’re going to distract me.” A pause. “Were you surprised Bash wanted to couple up with you yesterday?” He was surprised, considering Adela told him it’s not in the cards for them, so it seemed to Dylan like Adela had not talked about this with Bash and Bash was under the impression there was something there, which Dylan finds weird. It’s why he wants to know what’s going on there. He feels bad about Bash, that he wanted to pick her and had no idea she was into him, instead, honestly. “I’m feeling good, too. Yesterday felt a little never ending.” He’s going to tell her about his talk with Naomi but I am waiting for me and Kati to get somewhere first before he starts to tell her lol. “Regrets? Hm.” He pauses, as if he’s contemplating this, just teasing her a little bit before the dimpled grin on his lips widens and he pulls her even closer to him, pushing a loose strand of her brunette hair gently behind her ear. “No. Absolutely none. I’m really happy you’re here with me, Del.” He maintains he’s made the right choice bringing her back with him. Granted, they’ve only known each other a few days and they still have to know each other outside the casa amor bubble, but so far, things look good.

[mountainofgoats]

Back in the Saddle

Midvale, a few weeks post-Phantom Zone. In an attempt to remaster the powers Kara spent months without, she and her two most important people make a road trip home to test her flight.

Or, I just want Kara to be able to fly for the joy of it the way Clark did in Man of Steel.

Read with “Flight” by Hans Zimmer playing. You won’t regret it.

/////

Lena knows the moment Kara emerges from the house up on the ridge. Alex’s eyes flick up, back down, then up again in quick succession. An entirely smug grin alights her face before she pointedly looks back down at her tablet.

“We’re going to have to have a talk about your affinity for making my sister new suits at some point, Luthor,” she says.

Lena feels her face heat up. “No idea what you mean.”

“Sure you don’t.”

Lena scoffs. “She needed a new one,” she hisses at the smirking elder Danvers. “The one she had was wrecked and there was no fixing it.”

“Agreed,” Alex allows, smile growing. “But this is what? The fourth one you’ve made for her?”

“One other! With upgrades!”

“Mmhmm.” Alex types a few more things into the tablet. Pulls out a USB and plugs it into the side. “Sure.”

Lena feels her face go hot. “What are you insinuating, Alex?”

Alex shrugs. “Not insinuating anything,” she says. She glances back up and smiles some more. “Just thinking you’re making a habit of making suits for Kara and I kind of appreciate it.”

At Lena’s questioning look, Alex elaborates. “Winn made her first one,” she says. “And yeah, it did the job, but it was-“ she waves her hand in a so-so gesture, wincing- “not the best. Prone to wardrobe malfunctions.”

Lena snorts. “Patriarchy.”

“Fuck ‘em,” Alex agrees with a playful two finger salute.

After a shared grin with Lena, her eyes travel back to where Kara must have made it down to the beach. “They’ve all protected her, the suits you’ve made,” Alex says. Her voice has gone quiet. Gone is the light teasing. She holds Lena’s eyes for a moment. “And I... can’t tell you how much that means to me.”

Lena’s eyes suddenly mist over, and her throat works against the lump that forms there.

Alex looks pointedly back down at her tablet, where she pulls up a video feed from one of the comm pieces resting on the boulder she’s made her impromptu HQ desk. She clears her throat. “I’ve never made sure you knew that. So. Now I’m telling you.”

Lena absolutely refuses to cry, but fuck if it doesn’t take a Herculean effort. She wrestles with the hot gratitude and affection boiling in her chest as Alex fiddles with the settings on the camera feed.

Alex glances up again, and her smile turns warm in a way Lena knows is reserved only for her sister. “Looking good, sis,” she calls. “Little weird without the cape, though.”

“Thanks! Lena made it!” Kara chirps from behind Lena. “Even has pockets! And yeah, I was going to ask you about that. Is there no cape, Lena?”

She barely dares to turn, but Alex is giving her one hell of a challenging look, and she’s still a Luthor.

And Luthors never back down from a challenge.

She turns her face just enough to look over her shoulder and immediately curses that particular Luthor trait.

Sure, she made the suit. But that in no way prepares her for what it looks like when it’s wrapped around Kara. The dark blue, almost black throws her golden hair, shimmering in the late sun, in sharp relief. The smooth material sweeps over the dips and curves of her shoulders and biceps, the dip in the high collar exposing slightly below the hollow of her throat. She approaches silently on the sand, the soft and supple deep maroon boots smooth and soundless. Lena had left the pants a little loose, a little more comfortable, but that did nothing to hide the muscle that bunches and releases rhythmically as Kara walks across the sand.

And she’s looking quizzically at Lena. Head slightly titled, blue eyes somehow even bluer against the darkness of her suit, the blue and red accents, and the reddish tint of the setting sun.

Lena rips her eyes away from the subtle dips in Kara’s abs and desperately wracks her brain to remember what question was asked of her.

“Cape, Lena?” Alex prompts with a shit eating grin.

“Right,” Lena coughs. She turns fully to meet Kara, hand already pointing to the belt slung diagonally across Kara’s chest. “I figured, since you’re not wanting to be in the limelight just yet, I should make it a bit more understated,” Lena explains. “Did you see the crest on your left shoulder?”

“Yeah,” Kara nods. “I like that it’s so small.”

“Press it.”

Kara’s eyes dance with curiosity, not leaving Lena’s, as she reaches up to press on the tiny S affixed to the dark brown leather.

At the press of Kara’s fingers, the nanites immediately begin to crawl across the suit, gathering and extending down her back and around her chest in a long, deep maroon cloak. Kara lets out a startled sound of delight, swishing the thick material and stroking at it with near reverence.

“More nanites?” Alex smirks.

Lena shrugs, tossing the elder Danvers a smirk of her own. “I mean, I do have an MO at this point. No sense in ditching it.”

“It’s great!” Kara exclaims. She swishes the cloak again, grinning happily. “I can put it away if I want! This would have saved me so many headaches years ago!”

She bounces over to Lena and wraps her up in a warm hug. “Thank you,” she says quietly. Only for Lena. “I love it.”

Lena squeezes her around the back, hands fisting in the material of the cloak, feeling herself flush with happiness. “I’m glad,” she whispers.

“That’s actually a pretty good idea, Lena,” Alex says as they break apart. She’s back at the tablet, tapping and looking over some sort of read out. “She was always complaining how the cape got in the way.”

Lena arches an eyebrow at Kara. “What about your cape tricks?”

Kara grimaces. “Much less useful than I was led to believe.”

Alex snorts. “Understatement of the century,” she mutters. “Okay,” she strides over to a Kara and gently fits a comm around her ear. “That has a GPS and camera built in. We’ll be able to see what you see, know where you are, monitor vitals-“

Kara makes a face. “Wait, if you can track me, couldn’t someone else?”

Lena shakes her head. “The crest has signals built in to interfere with radar. Any signal that’s not Alex’s will get scrambled to cloak you.”

Kara surges forward for another hug, and over her shoulder Lena sees Alex smile with an exasperated shake of her head.

“Always protecting,” she mutters.

“What, Alex?” Kara asks as she lets Lena go and takes a step back.

“Nothing,” Alex says. She inputs a few more commands on the tablet, then looks up at Kara. “So. You ready?”

Lena glances over to Kara for what she thinks will be a quick confirmation.

But in those brief seconds, Kara’s easy smile and eager brightness had darkened.

In the red glow of the sun, she stands with her face tilted upward. She gazes at the sky with unfiltered longing, but her hands are trembling. Her whole being quivers, wound tight like a spring, as if she wants nothing more than to hurl herself up to the clouds. But there’s a tightness in her eyes, something there that just... won’t let her. She just stands there, shaking, looking up with haunted eyes.

Alex reaches out, rests a hand on Kara’s forearm. “Hey,” she murmurs. “You don’t have to do anything crazy. Whatever you’re ready for is all you have to do. The rest will follow.”

Kara nods, but still she hesitates. “But what if- what happens if I can’t- I mean-“

“I caught you floating in your sleep two nights ago,” Lena says gently and Kara’s eyes - desperate, scared eyes - whip to hers. “You can do this. But only if you’re ready to. Okay?”

The near manic desperation in Kara’s eyes cools as they hold each other’s gaze. She squeezes Alex’s hand, takes a breath, and nods resolutely.

“Yeah, yeah,” she mutters, giving her shoulders a shake. “I’m good. I’m okay.”

Alex squeezes her arm, then lets go. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Kara has her eyes on the sky again, gives her shoulders one more fortifying shake. She flexes her hands, rubs them on her pants once. She glances over at Lena and seems to brighten at the reassuring smile Lena gives her.

“Okay,” she breathes. “Here goes nothing.”

She stills, closes her eyes. Breathes in deep, then lets it out slow.

She breathes once more, the tense lines of her face relaxing.

Silently, her feet leave the sand.

Alex reaches over for Lena’s arm and grasps it tightly.

Eyes still closed, Kara rises higher in the air, straight up. She turns in gentle circles as she ascends, up and above the ridge.

Alex is looking over the read-outs on the tablet, eyes darting back and forth with near frantic energy. “Looking good so far, Kara,” she says distractedly. “Vitals are good. You’re at a hundred feet now.”

“Feels good,” comes Kara’s voice through the comms. “I’m not even trying.”

Alex’s smile is so proud Lena wants to cry. “That’s good, kid. That’s so good. Two hundred feet now.”

Alex is still gripping Lena’s arm painfully tight, but she’s rocking up on her toes happily, shooting Lena fervent looks of pure joy.

“Knew you could do it, Kara,” Lena says into her own comms, taking Alex’s hand away from her arm but keeping ahold of it. She squeezes as tight as her own bubbling pride allows.

Kara’s finally in the air. She’s flying. It’s one more step closer to conquering the giant mountain they’ve been climbing since she got back.

“How high now, Alex? I’m not looking.”

Alex glances at the screen, then up towards where Kara is becoming a dark dot among the clouds. “A thousand feet. Still feeling good?”

“Yeah. Really good, actually.”

“Have you opened your eyes yet?” Alex’s voice is teasing.

“No. What if I’m suddenly afraid of heights?” Her voice is childishly whiny, drawing a chuckle out of Alex and Lena.

Lena glances down at the video feed from Kara’s earpiece and has to stop herself from gasping.

“Kara, I think you should open your eyes,” she says slightly breathlessly.

“I’m gonna fall if I do,” comes Kara’s tight reply.

Alex is also staring at the camera feed, watching as the view of the water recedes farther toward the bottom of the screen as Kara rises higher and higher. “Kara, you want to see it,” she says. “Trust us.”

Lena knows the exact moment Kara opens her eyes. There’s a tiny gasp through the comms, and the camera arrests in place. Locked on to the brilliance of the shimmering water, the watercolor of the clouds in the light of the setting sun.

For a moment, Kara hangs motionless in the air.

Alex is anxiously tightening and loosening her grip on Lena’s hand. Looking up to where Kara is barely a speck in the sky, back to the camera, then back up again.

“Kara?” she says, a small break in her voice. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” comes Kara’s breathless voice. “Yeah, no, I’m good.”

There’s another moment of silence, then “It’s breathtaking. I... I’d almost forgotten-“ her voice cracks, and she clears her throat -“How beautiful this planet is.”

Alex squeezes Lena’s hand so tight it hurts, and Lena brings her free hand to grip at Alex’s forearm.

Alex sniffles, swipes her eyes against her shoulder. “It has its moments,” she rasps.

For a few long moments, they three stay silent. Lena and Alex on the ground, clutching at hands and arms in barely restrained joy with the waves lapping nearby.

And Kara, so high they can’t even see her, hanging in midair. Silent save for her gentle, easy breathing and the wind whistling around her.

And then, so suddenly both Lena and Alex flinch, she huffs a breath.

“Wanna see how fast I can get around the world?”

Alex barks a laugh, exchanging a fond and relieved look with Lena. “Your record is what? Thirty four seconds?”

“I can beat that,” comes the cocky reply.

And god, she sounds so happy.

Alex scoffs. “If you say so.”

Lena pulls out her phone and sets up a stopwatch. “On my mark, then?” she says.

“Don’t break anything, Kara,” Alex warns, though there’s no bite in her voice.

“And don’t break that suit,” Lena chimes in.

Kara’s voice has a tiny edge of Supergirl - the first since the Phantom Zone - when she replies. “Nothing’s getting broken here except the sound barrier.”

A shiver shoots down Lena’s spine. She does her best to ignore why.

“In three, two, one-“ she taps her phone- “Go.”

BOOM!

The noise vibrates through Lena’s chest. High above, the sky seems to part for Kara as she rockets towards the sun, leaving a trail in her wake.

Lena and Alex crowd the screen, watching wide-eyed as the ocean zips by far below, clouds whipping past, the camera quivering with the breakneck speed.

“Oh my god,” Lena murmurs almost by accident.

On the screen, a dark line of land rapidly approaches on the horizon as Kara hurtles toward it.

“That’ll be Japan,” Alex mumbles. She checks the read-outs and nods to herself. “Vitals are still good. Heart rate’s a little elevated, but considering-“ she gestures to the screen with a wry smile.

Lena nods, barely holding back happy tears.

On screen, Kara slows just enough for the sound to come back. Air whistles through the comms, her breathing slightly labored, and she ducks her head to watch the cities blink far below.

She won’t break her record by slowing like this, but Lena doesn’t mention that. And neither does Alex. They just watch as Kara picks up speed again, camera angling strangely as she dives.

She shoots west, weaving in huge slalom turns. The camera angles and tilts as she looks across the water, across the trees and grasslands and mountains as she passes them. Cities and towns flash past like street lights on a highway.

On the screen, her GPS tracks her through the rest of Asia, across India and into Africa. It’s a far cry from the speed she’d shot off at, but she doesn’t seem to mind as she dips and rolls through the clouds, hand outstretched as if to catch the swirling vapors.

Once she reaches the distant coast, Kara dips so low her hand reaches out to skim the water. She sails over the waves, fingers dragging, until she finds a pod of dolphins playing in the white water. For a moment, she flies just above the waves with them as they leap and dance.

The camera jerks toward the sky, and Kara gives a loud, delighted whoop as she shoots upwards. Spinning and spinning so fast the camera is blurring with the speed.

And through it all, Kara is laughing. Huge, joyous belly laughs, arms outstretched and head thrown back as she sails back into the clouds.

At 40,000 feet, she slows her ascent. Like a ball tossed in the air, she hovers at a stop for a split second before she starts to plummet. She turns, belly down and arms outstretched as the ocean rushes to meet her.

Still laughing with outrageous joy.

“God I missed that,” Alex murmurs. Her voice quivers and breaks.

Lena doesn’t take her eyes away from the screen. She doesn’t want to miss a single moment of this. But she does give Alex’s hand a squeeze in agreement.

Because hearing that laugh, being here and watching as Kara rolls and dives through the air, is healing pieces of Lena’s heart that she didn’t think would ever even scab over.

Kara’s joy is infectious, like it had always been. And Lena finds that she’s soaking it in like a woman parched.

On screen, Kara shoots off with another mighty BOOM. Her GPS shows her hurtling across the US at breakneck speed.

“Not even close to her record,” Alex laughs wetly. “Guess we’ll have to try again later.”

Lena swipes her hand under her eyes with a chuckle, catching tears that neither of them really acknowledge.

And seconds later, Kara lands with a muffled thump. Sand flies under her feet, and the ground trembles.

But her face is flushed, smile radiant, eyes glistening with tears.

Alex takes a step toward her, but pauses. “You okay?”

Kara gives a sobbing laugh, gestures helplessly with her hands. But her smile is wondrous.

Alex surges forward and wraps her in a tight hug. Kara clutches back, hands buried in her sister’s jacket and face pressed against her shoulder.

After a moment, one hand reaches out, fingers wiggling invitingly.

Lena takes that hand in both of hers and holds on tight. Over Alex’s shoulder, Kara’s eyes crinkle with her smile, sparkling and overwhelmed. She squeezes Lena’s hand, then tucks her eyes against her sister’s shoulder with a huge breath.

In a way, Lena feels as if they’re all breathing that same breath of relief.

“I wanna go again.” Kara’s voice is muffled adorably against Alex’s jacket.

Alex chuckles and rocks Kara back and forth happily. “We can stay out here as long as you want.”

Kara nods. “’Kay,” she says. But she holds on to Alex tighter, fingers digging into her jacket. “But in a minute, okay?”

Alex nods. Presses a kiss to the side of Kara’s head. “In a minute.”

And that seems to suit all three of them just fine. No one’s quite ready to let go yet.

/////

I'm a sucker for the angst just as much as the next nerd but I needed them to just... be happy and together. Just for a moment.

[cloudenthusiast2]

To be a human - Scaramouche x reader - Part 7 (Final)

You knew committing to a relationship with Scaramouche would be no easy task but you loved him dearly and unlike others, you believed he wasn't evil. But as a mortal and the devoted protector of your village you were too much of a good person, too much of a human compared to him and your differences slowly start to show.

Previous: Part 6

Length: 4000 words

Trigger warnings: blood, mentions of loss

A. note: Scaramouche is my favourite character in the game and I really love him. But I couldn't help and feel awful when he said those words in Inazuma. Look, I don't think that Mihoyo is gonna let the huge opportunity slip and not make him playable (for which we need to have at least a tiny bit of friendship with him and well, right now mc straight up hates him) but in case that does happen, in case he doesn't get a redemption arc, I made one myself. I wrote this to redeem him in my own, and hopefully your eyes as well. I hope you enjoyed reading this story of that little bastard as much as I enjoyed writing it.

It was fair to say that Scaramouche was stunned by the sight of the local people.

Certainly not because he suddenly grew fond of them. It was rather because the way they appeared out of blue when little Yu gave them a sign. She let out three short whistles and the forest came to life in front of the harbinger.

Old men and woman, little children and whole families walked towards them. It was clear even for Scaramouche that they looked uneasy and hostile. They surely wouldn’t have appeared in front of the fatui if it wasn’t for Yu.

The sixth harbinger was astonished.

Because they would trust someone, especially a child so much.

Because there were so many of them.

He counted the people walking towards Yu. Way more than he’d thought there would be.

These people were injured, dirty and exhausted. But they were alive. And all because of one person.

‘Impressive’ he thought to himself.

Yu talked to them, explaining why the fatui was there and promising that they’re not in danger any more. The people seemed less at ease in his presence now but the harbinger still felt the piercing gazes. If looks could’ve killed he would have been dead in an instant.

He knew they all blamed him for the things that had happened. Maybe they even thought he was the one who made the abbys attack their village.

But Scaramouche got used to these types of glances during the years and he did not care about them any more. All that mattered was that they were able to help.

He stood behind little Yu who was still clinging onto her doll. Scaramouche stared at the bloodstains on the toy as she asked the people of Qingce to help find you.

The thought to promise them money crossed his mind but the instantly threw it away. He just somehow felt that it would be very wrong.

These people won’t help him because he can pay them. They won’t help because Yu asked them to either. They will help because you had been guarding them for years.

Mentioning your name caused them to stir up, to get loud and the all of a sudden the whole crowd was ready to go and search in the mountains.

It was obvious how much they loved and respected you. Maybe even more than Scaramouche used to, he realized.

Yu turned to him and nodded.

‘I think we can go now.’

‘How are you going to search everything?’ the harbinger asked as he crouched down to the child. It wasn’t needed since he wasn’t much taller than her but it felt like the right thing to do.

Yu’s eyes wandered to the hat. She reached out and gently touched it.

Scaramouche normally would’ve ended the person who messed with his hat but when the child did it, he somehow felt no urge to do so.

‘It’s because so many people are watching’ he explained to himself. But it still felt a bit weird not being annoyed.

He cleared his throat so Yu would focus on him again.

‘We know this place well’ she answered, letting her arms fall back to her side. ‘We will split up and warn each other if we find something.’

‘My people are out too.’

‘Then call them back.’

The harbinger glared at the child. She really was fearless, wasn’t she, huh. First touching his hat and now disrespecting the fatui.

‘You know…’ he crossed his brows as he began to speak but Yu quickly cut him off.

‘Everyone is afraid of them. And they’ll just be in the way. They don’t know the mountains, do they?’

Scaramouche clenched his teeth together. But he had to admit that the girl was right.

He stood up and walked towards the agents standing by a nearby bridge. They were there since the people appeared to make sure they don’t try to do anything to their harbinger.

He gestured to bring them closer then stood and crossed his arms.

‘First, I want to know how a big group of fatui agents were unable to find anyone when there was a whole village hiding in the forest’ he questioned them with a glare.

The agents were bowing already but now they bowed even deeper.

‘F-forgive us, our lord!’ a pyro agent answered. ‘They’re locals and we…’

‘Spare your apologies, I don’t care.’

Scaramouche closed his eyes for a moment and let out a sigh. He really didn’t care, he only snapped at them to let out a little frustration.

‘Call back everyone from the mountains. And let these people do what they want. Anyone who disturbs them in any way shall be punished.’

‘But my lord…’

‘Do as I say!’

Scaramouche turned his back to them and the agents hurried away. He watched as the people of Qingce split up and began their search in the forest, around the destroyed village.

He looked up to the mountains. Clouds hid the most of them, they were so huge, so high. And there were so many places you could be.

Was is it even possible that you were alive?

Scaramouche never lied to himself and this was the first time he wanted to. He simply just didn’t want to accept the small chances of finding you. He wanted to feel hope.

‘You better be alive, Y/n’ he muttered to himself. ‘For your own sake.’

For his sake.

*

‘Have you taken a look around in that cave too?’

‘I haven’t but I can go if…’

‘Stay.’

Scaramouche climbed to the cave and looked into the hole. It was smaller than it seemed from below and inside it there was absolutely nothing.

He quietly let himself down. He jumped on a bigger stone on the path under him, the bells violently jingling on his hat.

Little Yu asked nothing. It was obvious from the harbinger’s expression that he found nothing.

The air began to feel a little chilly in the mountains. The sun was getting ready to go down and let the moon take its place.

They’ve spent their whole day with searching. They’ve found absolutely nothing so far.

There were a lot of traces left behind the abbys order and the monsters. It was also clear that the fight continued outside of the village as well. Corpses of dead monsters bordered the narrow paths.

But your body was nowhere to be find.

Scaramouche looked up to the sky. The first star had already appeared. And with that, their last piece of hope started to slip away.

‘We haven’t looked there yet.’

The harbinger snapped out of his dark thoughts and glanced at the child in front of him. She pointed at a smaller mountain nearby.

‘That’s very far away from the village’ Scaramouche claimed. ‘We’d be just wasting our time.’

‘Then where do you want me to go?’ Yu asked.

The man let out a sigh. She was right, they’ve already looked through every bush and searched every rock on this mountain.

He started walking towards the other one without saying anything, and Yu silently followed him.

In the valley below them, lots of figures were moving and changing places. The locals still haven’t given up even though it was getting colder and darker with every passing moment.

A red dot appeared. Then another. They started lighting torches.

Scaramouche felt like choking. He touched his throat and fastened his steps.

He tried to banish the horrifying thoughts from his head but his desperate tries were unsuccessful.

You’re dead. They’re only going to find a cold body and not you. You’re dead and it is his fault.

He shook his head to quiet the voices and to get back into focusing on his search.

This made him realize that he hadn’t seen little Yu in a while. Scaramouche stopped and turned his head to check on the girl.

She was behind him a few meters away. Her movements were too slow to keep up with the harbinger’s.

‘Are you coming or not?’ The man growled at her. ‘Hurry up.’

‘Sorry…’ She was out of breath, quietly panting. ‘You can leave me behind. I know I’m just slowing you down.’

Scaramouche rose his brows at the young child who was not even tall enough to reach the ground from a bigger rock. Was she really that aware? What should he do now? Just leave her here? He was willing to do that, to be honest. The sun was about to completely disappear.

Yu grabbed the side of the rock. She let her feet down, trying to get down safely but she was too tired – the little girl stumbled and fell.

Scaramouche didn’t even realize he was reaching out – but a moment later he found himself holding the child in his own arms.

They stared at each other, the sixth Fatui Harbinger and the kid from Liyue. It was impossible to tell who was more surprised, the one holding or the one being held.

But it was the man who found his voice first.

‘Don’t think I’m gonna carry you like this to the other mountain.’

‘I didn’t think that’ she answered quietly.

Scaramouche cleared his throat and opened his lips. But before any other words could’ve come out of his mouth, a sharp whistle cut through the air.

They both jerked their heads up.

The sound was coming from below, south to the village.

The whistle was repeated – two short, two long ones.

‘They’ve found her’ Yu said.

*

Scaramouche had no memories of how he got down from the top of the mountain.

All he remembered was the crazy pace of his heartbeat. The darkness invading his head. That terrific feeling clenching his heart, incredible, deep fear he’s never experienced before.

There were many people standing in his way in front of a big cave. He pushed them away as he rushed to get closer.

It was dark. Everyone stood with a torch in their hands. He heard the whispers but the words were incomprehensiblenext to the loud beating of his own heart. There were figures but they were blurry, everything was blurry…

Until he saw you.

You were laying on the ground. Your body completely still, your chest not rising nor sinking. Your clothes torn, bloody.

There was so much blood.

He stumbled and fell on his knees in front of you. A local turned to him and spoke but he understood nothing. His hand was shaking as he reached out to touch you.

You were… cold.

He forgot how to breathe and just stared down at your body. Your messy hair hid your face and that just didn’t feel right.

Why was this happening?!

Everything was supposed to become alright after they’ve found you!

How dare you be dead, how dare you not wake up to his touch, to his wishes, to all wishes around you…!

‘Balladeer!’

He snapped out of the blurriness when someone grabbed his arm. An old lady with a serious look tried to pull him back.

‘Let go of me!’ he hissed, pushing her away. He groaned when the grip became stronger instead on his arm. Pain in his heart and body blinded him as he shouted. ‘I said, let go of me or else…’

‘Please stay out of the way of my people’ the lady asked in a calm tone. ‘She needs serious help.’

‘What help can you provide when she’s dead?!’ he screamed at her in a hoarse voice. ‘You stay away from her!’

‘Please calm down. Y/n is not dead… yet.’

Scaramouche slowly closed his eyes. The words echoed in his head.

She’s not dead. She’s not dead. She’s not dead. Yet.

He took a deep, shaking breath. The cold air in his lungs cooled him off a little.

You were alive. But also, only barely. He finally understood what that meant. But he couldn’t let himself feel any relief nor fear…

He was a harbinger, he was part of the Fatui under the rule of the almighty Tsaritsa. He was Scaramouche, the Balladeer who simply could not allow himself to show any vulnerability in front of mere mortals.

Even if it was about you.

Even if he wasn’t the same person any more.

‘Bring a healer’ he said in a lower tone.

‘We don’t have any vision bearers among us’ the lady answered. ‘But we’ll do everything to keep her alive.’

Scaramouche nodded and stood up. It took a lot of strength to tear his eyes from you but he forced himself to do it and turned around.

‘Alert my people and tell them to give you all that you need’ he told the locals as he fixed his hat. ‘Tents, medicine, food, everything.’

The people stood there in silence for a few seconds, not knowing whether to obey him. They only moved when the old lady from before thanked him. Then they finally set off towards the village.

Scaramouche wanted to turn back and take a glance at you one more time to make sure you’re really there and not just a hallucination. But suddenly little Yu appeared in his sight and that made him stay.

‘She’s alive’ the girl whispered. The mask she had worn so far finally broke and her expression was an expression of a little child. She seemed tired, sad and a little happy. ‘I’m so glad… Scara.’

The harbinger nodded and closed his eyes for a moment. His heart was still beating fast with fear but those heavy weights on his shoulders finally started getting lighter.

He felt something touching his hand and he opened his eyes to the sight of Yu holding onto him.

This type of physical connection was very far away from what Scaramouche would tolerate coming from a human but he felt way too tired to resist. He just let the little girl clench his pinkie and they both watched silently as some helpers grabbed your body and moved it to a safer place.

*

You felt like something that had been sitting on your chest for a while finally moved. Something even bigger, a huge, scary type of darkness slowly left your body.

It left you with the first breath you were aware of taking in a long time.

You let out a small sigh. And opened your eyes.

There was a fabric cover above you.

You were in a tent, safe and sound. Alive.

The first thing you noticed was the temperature. It was warm, welcoming and comforting. Lot of soft blankets covered your body which hurt badly but the pain was dim.

You tried to look around but your head was too heavy. You could barely tip your head to the side.

But the sight was worth it.

Your breath was taken away one more time. You just stared in silence and you could feel your eyes widen in shock.

‘You’re awake.’

Scaramouche closed the book he was reading and looked at you with a straight face.

‘Finally.’

He put the book down with a slow movement.

Mixed emotions invaded you. You fell from relief to happiness to fright in a span of a few seconds. You were alive and Scaramouche was here with you, but – why did he seem so distant? Was he still angry at you even after everything that had happened?

You almost let fear overrun you. Almost.

But your gaze fell on his hands and he couldn’t hide his true feelings from you any more. His hands were visibly trembling as he still held onto his book.

Little did you know he could have not read a single word written in the last couple of hours. He just sat there and watched over your sleep, not dozing off for even a second himself.

The shaking of his hands became even more obvious and he couldn’t hold himself back any more.

He moved closer and placed his trembling palms next to the sides of your body. He looked down on you from above and as you stared back at him, you could clearly see something that wasn’t there before.

The usual cold, emotionless blur was nowhere to be found in his dark eyes. Instead, there was pain. And a lot of it.

‘How dare you do this to me?’

During the years of your relationship, he’s grown to be comfortable in your presence but he never ever showed any signs of vulnerability in front of you and you just accepted that it’s probably never going to happen.

It was shocking, almost scary seeing him like this.

The desperate expression on his face softened and he let his head plop on your shoulders.

‘Scara’ you whispered. Your voice was hoarse and dry but it was your voice. You were able to speak.

The realization of how unlikely your survival was suddenly hit you and your eyes teared up.

‘Scara, I… I really thought I was gonna die…’

‘Then you’re stupid’ he answered, speaking into the blankets covering your shoulder. ‘You should know that you can’t die without my permission.’

You laughed through your tears. They streamed down on your face, straight into your ears. But even that felt so good. Crying was a sign of being alive from the very beginning of life and you never understood that so much than at that time.

‘Don’t… leave me ever again.’

You didn’t event think, the words just left your mouth.

‘Don’t worry.’ Scaramouche finally got himself together enough to sit up and at least pretend that he was alright. ‘You have successfully proved you’re not capable of taking after yourself so now I’m definitely stuck babysitting you till the rest of our lives.’

His movements said otherwise though. The way he caressed your cheek to dry the tears up showed that he’s not just stuck. He wantsto stay.

Just what kind of thinks did he go through in the past days? – the question occurred to you.

To think about it… why did he even come back? How did he hear what happened? And your people?! Were they safe?

So many questions echoed in your head and you couldn’t even put most of them into words that made sense. So opened your mouth and quietly asked:

‘What happened?’

‘I want to know the same’ he said. ‘What happened? How did you get so far away from the village? How are you alive in the first place?’

You thought back to the night. Pain stabbed you instantly and you had to close your eyes for a moment to calm it.

‘I don’t remember much. But I think the abbys wanted to take me with them. Is that… possible?’

‘I heard all kinds of things about them’ Scaramouche nodded. ‘It is very possible. Continue.’

‘There isn’t much to say… Obviously I tried to resist but there were too many of them. They probably realized I would be just a burden. I remember a mage knocking me out. But they didn’t kill me…’

‘Well, given your injuries, they must’ve thought there’s not a lot of time left for you. It really is a miracle that you’re alive.’ Scara stated. ‘And you were in that wet cave for an entire day too. You were nearly dead when we found you.’

‘We?’

You stared at him and your heartbeat dropped.

‘You mean…’

‘Yes’ he sighed. ‘That people of yours.’

He went silent for a moment then rolled his eyes.

‘They helped me out… I guess.’

‘So they’re all alive and safe?’ you asked and couldn’t help but laugh in relief. ‘That is so amazing! Thank you, Scara!’

‘Thank yourself, idiot’ he snorted. ‘You were the one who kept a whole abbys army away from them after all.’

The harbinger shook his head.

‘I hate that you were so reckless to do that… but I have to say I’m impressed. We should spar again sometimes.’

‘Aren’t you afraid you’re getting your ass kicked?’ you grinned.

‘I compliment you one time and you get this cocky?’ he crossed his eyebrows. ‘I have to put you back into your place, I see.’

You laughed and as you were finally strong enough to move a little, you grabbed his hand. He had to oppress his smile with force.

‘And how did you know… we were going to be attacked?’

The question made his task much easier. The harbinger’s face turned back to being serious once again.

‘I have my connections’ he answered briefly. ‘But you don’t have to worry, the fatui had nothing to do with the attack.’

‘I would never think that’ you rushed to make your words clear. ‘I just… hope that my people feel the same.’

Scara shrugged. Then averted his eyes as he thought of someone.

‘I don’t know about the others but there’s one person who clearly does.’

‘Who?’

‘That girl… Yu or whatever her name is.’

You stared at him in surprise. You’d never thought the day would come where he mentions a child and doesn’t frown. And to think that it’s Yu as well! Yu who was normally wary of strangers and such a gentle child…

Just what happened to him? – you asked yourself again.

You searched for answers in his eyes but it seemed like there were things that even this new type of Scaramouche, this more vulnerable and open one wouldn’t tell.

But it was alright. Maybe you didn’t need to know. You were just happy to be there and experience it yourself.

‘How is Yu?’ you asked.

‘Alright’ Scara muttered.

‘Her mother?’

‘Oh, her… Well…’

He hesitated for a moment and that was enough. Every good and warm feeling was instantly replaced by cold ones and you found yourself sitting up in dread.

‘Please tell me… She’s not…’

‘Hey, don’t sit up! Lie back right now!’

When you didn’t obey, Scaramouche pushed you back with his own hands. He was right, your body started aching terribly from moving and the physical pain almost outgrew the pain in your heart.

‘Is she…’

‘Yu’s fine. Don’t worry.’

‘No! I need to talk to her!’

‘You won’t.’

You clenched your teeth together in despair and Scara flinched. He saw himself in you when you did that. Earlier this day his expression was still this full of pain.

‘Scaramouche!’ you said, calling him by his first name which he suddenly realized, he hated more than that stupid nickname. ‘I will go and talk to her and you can’t stop me!’

‘I…’

‘Just think about everything you felt while I was missing! I know you don’t want me to go away again but you need to understand.’

‘All I’m trying…’

‘Maybe I really am cocky to think that it was painful to you but if I’m not and it really was, then just imagine that Yu feels like that too right now. And on top of that, she has no hope whatsoever. She knows that her mother is dead and there’s no…’

‘Oh, to Celestia, can you shut up for a moment?’ Scara interrupted you harshly. Then he frowned and quickly continued. ‘What I was about to say is that under no circumstances should you get up with these injuries. But you can talk to Yu.’

‘I can…?’

‘Yes, idiot. I’ll call her over.’

You stared at him in silence.

‘You’d… do that?’

‘Yes.’

‘So… you won’t mind if she stays with us?’

‘I guess not?’

‘Not even for a long time?’

‘I said no, stop asking these stupid questions.’

You were speechless and just gazed at him without saying anything for a long time.

You had mixed feelings about the Scara you woke up to so far. But this had finally convinced you that he really has changed into something better.

A slow smile formed on your lips. It grew bigger and bigger and it completely lit your face up.

‘You’re grinning like an idiot’ Scara claimed but nothing, not even his salty remarks could take away your happiness any more.

‘Scara, I really love you.’

‘You better do.’

He stood up and turned away as quickly as he could to try and hide the blush on his face. He knew if you saw that, you’d be teasing him about it till the rest of your lives together.

You were still grinning “like an idiot” as he was rushing to leave the tent. But even though he was in hurry, before he’d stepped out, he made sure to turn back and say:

‘I’ll be back.’

[puffpasstea]

Satellite

Warnings: drugs, alcohol

---

Chapter 6

I spent the last two hours of the night, before the sun came up, in the bed in one of Harry’s guest rooms, scrolling on my phone between the seemingly infinite number of “news” articles publicizing the photos from earlier tonight. They were analyzing the handful of pictures that people had snapped. Some clearer than others. The stuff they published made me sick. Not only were they scrutinizing our body language, facial expressions, and my dress, but they had “insider sources” who “reported” that Harry and I were “spending time together.” Whatever that meant. I’m sure it was intentionally vague. Designed to get clicks and keep people talking without actually saying anything that would get them in legal trouble. The comment sections oscillated between two extremes. Some commenters left variations of heart and crown emojis, commending Harry for being “such a gentleman” for letting me hold onto his arm, and others called me a fame hungry whore, or a “beard” concealing whatever it is they think Harry has to hide. We aren’t even dating. A fact that hardly seemed relevant to those who were openly offering their very strongly worded opinions on our non-existent relationship. The dizzying speed at which these photos were being shared and written about made me nauseous. Just when I thought I’d seen it all, something new would pop up. My social media accounts exploded with notifications. I don’t know what made my skin crawl more, people I’d known my whole life and hardly ever spoke to who were now suddenly emerging from the midst of nowhere to “reach out” to me, or complete strangers tagging me, commenting on my past posts, and reviewing my every digital move. I instantly felt defensive though I wasn’t sure what I was defending or why. If a few moments of walking alongside Harry had resulted in this burst of articles and rumors, what would people say once they’ve had a few minutes to scroll through my accounts? For a moment, I had the urge to set all of my accounts to “private,” but that somehow felt weird and cowardly. Like I was afraid, or had something to hide.

I’d managed to work myself into another spiral. I needed a break. As the sun was rising in my window, I buried my phone underneath a mountain of pillows and got up to go check on Harry. I hoped the medication he’d been given, and the events of the night before, had knocked him into a deep slumber. When I got to the living room, the couch where I’d set him up, and where he’d drunkenly kissed me, was empty. Shit. Where l was he? How’d he even manage to get up on his own  with one of his arms mysteriously immobilized? Why do I feel like I’m in charge of babysitting a toddler?

 I walked around the house looking for him. He wasn’t in the kitchen, or in either of the massive dining areas. I went upstairs to his bedroom, but the room was empty and his bed looked untouched. Perfectly made with the throw-pillows symmetrically aligned. He hadn’t slept in it. He was nowhere to be found when I checked the bathroom, and the five guest bedrooms and bathrooms that he’d shown me in a tour of the house upon my arrival. The gardens on his property were enormous, but as far as I could make out from the front of the house, none of them had been lit during the night. No way was he out there on his own. 

I dialed Harry’s phone but was sent straight to voicemail. Fuck. Could he have gone back to the hospital, or something? Was he in so much pain that he just had to leave in the middle of the night to go back to the emergency room? If so, why hadn’t he come to get me? Or at least leave a message? My mind had no trouble at all coming up with several violent scenarios for me to choose from. So. Many. horrible things could’ve happened.

Numerous attempts and three voicemails later, I called Christopher to see if he’d heard from Harry, or if he had any idea where Harry could be.

“I’m sorry, no. I’ve just been sleeping since we dropped him off.” Christopher’s sleepy-leaden voice grumbled from the other end of the line.

I sighed loudly. Unable to voice the spiral in my mind.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure he’s fine. Wherever he is.” Christopher offered, clearing his throat to sound more comprehensible. 

“How? How could you be ‘sure he’s fine’ if you have no idea where he is? Hmm? What if he’s hurt? What if he needs help?”

“You’re spinning out, you realize that, right?”

“S-sorry. I just- he’s not well. He’s on pain pills and whatever else he imbibed at the afterparty, and-”

“Fine,” Christopher groaned. “ I’ll come over.”

***

In Harry’s kitchen, Christopher leaned against the counter as I poured us both some coffee from the touch-screen espresso machine that Harry had shown me how to use. 

“Should- we call the police? Report him missing?” I asked as I handed Christopher his mug.

“And risk a public outcry? Are you insane?”

We’d spent the early hours of the morning unsuccessfully negotiating with his security guy. We begged him to let us see the security footage to check where Harry might have gone, or if he’d ordered a car or used his own, but the guy wouldn’t budge. Our names were not on Harry’s emergency list. Therefore he wasn’t going to share ANY information with us under any circumstances. Even though we were Harry’s guests.

“At least the police would be able to override the security guy…” I shrugged and  took a much needed, enormous sip of my coffee and burned my tongue.

“You’re crazy. It’s Harry Styles. in LA. He’s safe. I’m sure. Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you prepared to deal with the public outcry that will definitely happen if it turns out that he isn’t safe?”

Christopher rolled his eyes.

“Cuz I’m not. Fans will crucify you. For the rest of your life, suspicion will haunt you. You’ll be THAT guy. The guy who could’ve called the police but didn’t. Wonder why? You wanna be that guy, Christopher?”

“Have you…been taking Harry’s pain pills?” 

“I hate you.”

 Chris laughed and pulled out his phone.

“What are you doing?” I walked over to stand over his shoulder.

“Like I said, it’s Harry Styles, this is LA. Chances are, if he’s somewhere public, someone out there must have seen him somewhere.”

Christopher opened his instagram app and searched for Harry’s name. His account information with its trusty blue checkmark appeared. Christopher swiped to Harry’s “tagged photos” and found the most recent picture he was tagged in. It was from two hours ago.

“Would you look at that?” Christopher handed me his phone and I immediately knew what he meant.

“Of course.” I was relieved he was okay.

“Already on it.” Christopher pulled up his contacts and made the call. “Hey, sorry to wake you. Could you put Harry on the phone, please?”

“Dude, speaker!” I whisper-yelled at Christopher.

He obliged, putting his phone down on the kitchen counter between us and hitting “speaker.”

“He’s not here, Chris. Not anymore, anyway.” Sienna’s voice replied. “He was. A couple of hours ago. Asked if he could borrow my dog and-”

“And you let him??” I interrupted, perhaps a bit too aggressive. Christopher shot me a corrective look.

“Forgive her. She’s really worried. Sienna, did he tell you where he and the dog were going?”

“I don’t know but I can send you the address. He seemed too loopy to drive so I called him an Uber.”

“Text me the address?”

“You got it, Chris.”

Ending the call, Chris gave me a fake sigh and smiled. “You and Harry better get married at the end of all this.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

****

I got into a car to the address that Sienna had sent us without thinking, but now that the driver had dropped me off, it occurred to me that I hadn’t thought far enough into the future to decide what I was going to do. I stood in front of the front door of this home. It must be a friend of Harry’s because the place was in a gated community. Weirdly, Harry’s driver’s car was recognized and allowed inside, so Harry must have been here before. I rang the doorbell without a clue who’d be on the other side, but as soon as the door swung open, everything made sense.

“H-how? How’d you find him?” asked the tall, dark haired man in the sweat suit as soon as he saw me.

“It’s Jeffrey…right? We met. At the Forum, remember?” I extended my hand out.

Remembering his manner, he shook my hand. “Please, call me Jeff.”

“Jeff, I just wanna talk to him. Make sure he’s okay.”

“He’s so gonna kill me for this,” Jeff mumbled under his breath as he stepped aside, letting me in.

“Don’t worry. I won’t let him.”

***

“He’s right through there” Jeff nodded as he walked me down the hallway of the second floor of his home. “Last door on the felt.”

I thanked him for his help and he retreated back to the lower floor to give us some privacy.

I knocked twice before opening the guest room door where Harry had spread out on the floor, Sienna’s beagle snoozing next to him, with a guitar on the floor, Harry struggling to hold it with his one functioning arm, beer bottles, empty cans, and an ashtray scattered in a semi-circle around his body.

“Seriously, Harry?” I exhaled in disbelief, walking in and shutting the door behind me.

Clearly startled, Harry looked up from his spot on the floor, his expression twisting into distant avoidance as he realized it was me. “Alice.” his eyes darted around the room, looking anywhere but in my direction. The height difference between us made him look small and scared. I wished I could understand what was going through his mind or comfort him. But it was more likely that I was the cause of it all.

I was taken aback by the pain that this caused me. He might as well have driven a knife through my chest. This was the first time Harry had ever called me by my real name. No “Matilda.” Not even “babe,” or “darlin.’” Just “Alice.” 

“What- are you…how? How did you...” 

 Though he never finished any of his questions, I knew what he was trying to ask, so I pulled my phone out and showed him the instagram picture of him with Sienna’s dog that led me here.

“‘Course, internet.” he  nodded, mumbling to himself.

“Harry, how drunk are you right now?”

“Not drunk.”

I squatted down and took a seat on the floor next to him, shoving the beer bottles to the side to make more room. 

“You’re not supposed to drink with the meds you’re on.” I reminded him, glancing around the room for more evidence of his solitary activities. “...or smoke…or take other pills…gosh, Harry what’ve you ingested? Is there anything you HAVEN’T taken?”

“You know, a little bit of this, a little bit of that.”

I rolled my eyes. Fighting the urge to indulge in his self-pity. It was extremely difficult though. I kept my face harsh and steady, but it was killing me to see him like this.

“You wanna share? I bet I could scramble together a line at least?” He grabbed his credit card off the carpet and felt around his small clear baggies for leftovers.

“That’s not funny, Harry.”

“Wasn’t joking.”

“Stop, okay? You’ve had enough. Let’s get you home.”

“I’m not goin’ home…I’m- staying here.” His speech was slow and slurred. Sienna’s dog got up and walked in circles scratching at the floor to find a comfortable spot, then giving up, he jumped right into Harry’s lap.

Harry’s hand automatically began petting him.

“You need to go home and get some sleep. Flush all this…shit out of your system. Sober up.”

Looking me dead in the eyes, Harry grabbed a pill out of one of his plastic bags and swallowed it whole. “No.”

“Look, I get it. You’re in pain. You’re angry with me. You’re sad. We’ve all been there. Things suck right now, but you can’t run from your feelings. They’ll catch up to you eventually. And thing will be much worse when they do.”

“Like you even care? We’re not together, remember? We can’t be. You said that last night. So why are you here? Why are you trying to help me? I don’t need you to help me, I need you to love me. But you won’t do that, so why’d you come here? What, were you hoping to apologize and make it all go away? I can’t do that anymore, I can’t keep making allowances for your emotional shortcomings. It’s exhausting, I’m exhausted just leave me the fuck alone, Alice!!”

[ootahime]

analyzing every gojohime moment in the manga >:) pt. 3

more and more paragraphs ahead.  BE PREPARED!

i’m also writing this at 3 am so please bear with the horrendous grammar and punctuation.

chapter 63

i know he’s probably like this with everyone but i love how excited he is bragging about his students to her.  he’s like a child telling his mother about an amazing adventure he had with his friends, making sure he mentions every detail.  in the anime, their conversation lasted for 3:41 :3 backwards 341 is 143 which means i love you.  

1 letter = i

4 letters = love

3 letters = you

chapter 63

i love her fit!  i also like how both of them like to wear baggy clothing that accentuates their collarbones `w` it’s like they’re matching in a way.  even if she did tell him to cut the crap, she still let him run his mouth to his content LOL i feel like if he didn’t compliment himself at the end, she would have said something different.  UGH HE LOOKS SO HAPPY CALLING HER

 ah, let me translate the conversation just in case anyone needs it.

utahime: you wanted to talk about the investigation, right?

gojo: well, got any idea who?

utahime: i have no idea.  no one seems suspicious.  what do we do now?  should we ask the students for help?

gojo: yeah, that’s fine.  i’m busy so asking the kids would be okay.  keep looking.  i’m counting on you.

I THINK THAT’S WHAT THEY’RE TRYING TO SAY.

OR it could mean that she’s asking if they should start investigating the students.  it would make sense either way because gojo says in the next panel that he doesn’t want to assume that the mole is a student, and in chapter 79, gojo sends the trio to utahime to help her.  

chapter 63

these two love their students to death.  neither of them wanted to assume that the mole was a student.  in chapter 79, when utahime is talking to the trio about the mole, nobara points out to the group that the traitor must be from kyoto because utahime is the one who’s reaching out to the tokyo side.  utahime has a dismal look on her face, almost like she’s saying, “i didn’t want it to turn out this way -- for this to be true.”  after mechamaru says his farewells to miwa on the train, mai tries to talk about what he did to which utahime says, “it doesn’t matter, he’s dead, after all,” with a similar sunken expression.  i just love how her care for the students is one of the biggest aspects of her personality that’s been showcased so far.  it’s also cool how it ties together with gojo’s belief that no child’s youth should be taken away.  i truly think these two have the capacity to understand each other to a deep level, down to the core.  seeing as utahime is also a teacher, it’s safe to assume that she also wants to raise the next generation of sorcerers to be strong.  utahime and gojo’s similarities and contrasting elements are so interwined, i really wonder if it’s intentional.  like am i looking too much into this?  are utahime and gojo really meant to be this connected?  think about it.  similar motivations, care of the kids, contrasting palettes, the bickering, long history.  IT’S JUST TOO MUCH. 

also can we mention how their phone calls and meetings must be heavily planned out?  this means they’ve talked and interacted with each other A LOT behind the scenes.  she doesn’t answer his call with “what do you want?  don’t bother me on my day off.”  she knows exactly why he’s calling her and they even speak in code.  she probably meets up with him and tells him to call her on a specific day and at a specific time.  they must know each other’s schedules very well in order to execute this investigation in complete secrecy.  when he says, “we can never be too sure who is listening in around utahime” it implies that they find calling a risk, so in order to guarantee that there is no one around, they have to meet up in person.  see where i’m getting at?  they talk A LOTTT and most likely are aware of each other’s daily lives.  

the fact that gojo is her main source of stress when he’s literally a 3 hour train ride away from her is hilarious LMAOOOO.  you know what that means, right?  he must call and text her constantly about random things to annoy her.  

chapter 65

ah yes, my favorite moment by far.  look at that smile on his face.  

chapter 65

he loves saying her name.  he probably rushed over with the sole purpose of doing something like this to her LMAOOOO like i mean, mei was in there with her so technically they both needed to be helped but judging from his words and expression, he only wanted to help utahime.  notice how mei’s not there in the debris.  could she possibly have suspected gojo’s presence or an outside force?  or was she fast enough to avoid being in the debris?  either way, her lack of presence in this scene helps highlight the fact that this is a special interaction between utahime and gojo.  he refers to her in a very familiar sense.  the most formal way to address someone is by their last name followed by the honorific, -san.  in gojo’s case, he should be calling her iori-san if they weren’t acquainted.  he doesn’t even bother to call her utahime-senpai.  granted, gojo is not the most respectful and socially competent person out there because geto points this out to him.  he isn’t even aware that she finds him annoying because he views her bad attitude toward him as her just playing along with him.  he probably thinks she’s flirting back LOLOL

since he asks her “you cryin?” that definitely means that gojo witnessed her crying on one occasion or maybe multiple.  who knows, the old utahime could have been a very emotional person.  while this is happening, mei is close to gojo, she then asks him if he would console her if she were to cry in a flirtatious manner.  gojo dismisses her attempt at flirting with him and says she won’t cry because she’s strong.  now normally, you’re supposed to face the person you’re talking to, GOJO.  he KEEPS his eyes on her even when more people come to join the conversation.  

now, we can all agree that geto, mei, and shoko are better at picking up social cues than gojo.  they probably knew the vibe of the conversation and decided to play along with gojo’s antics.  

chapter 65

WE were worried about you.

pay attention to the order of the characters that show up.  gojo makes his appearance first, then geto, followed by shoko.  based on utahime’s reaction to seeing shoko, it’s evident that these two share a close bond.  shouldn’t shoko be the one to arrive on the scene first?  she’s the closest to utahime and would therefore be more concerned about her condition, right?  i know shoko’s technique doesn’t really allow her to do anything other than treat the wounds of others, but if you heard your friend was missing, you would definitely rush to the scene.  

look at geto’s reaction when mei says, “you’re the one who’s picking on her, geto.  you don’t even know it.”  i think it’s mei who’s saying this because gojo calls geto “suguru”.  but anyway, mei is aware that they’re picking on her.  i don’t think she’s the type to legitimately bully someone for their strength.  her reaction to all of this is very playful and her “heh heh heh” is proof of that.  when geto shows up and swallows the curse before it gets to utahime, he says, “satoru.  it’s not nice to pick on the weak.”  by saying this, he pisses utahime off because he too, is joining in on gojo’s joke.  i believe he’s unaware that he’s making fun of utahime because his reaction is “gah!” with a sweatdrop.  he probably thought gojo was making fun of weak people in general.  

geto’s usually a gentleman seeing as it is canon that he is more popular with girls than gojo.  BUT WHO KNOWS...you gotta be a specific type of person to be best friends with gojo.  maybe he ain’t shit too...  okay, my point is that everyone is just playing along.  when shoko shows up, utahime is relieved to see her because shoko doesn’t tease her like this.  since utahime tells shoko to not become like those two, this implies that geto teases her as well (probably not as much as gojo).  we all know geto is really big on looking out for the weak so he probably wouldn’t have insulted her for real.  

verdict: utahime being weak is just a joke.  i’ve mentioned this so many times, sorry if it’s getting annoying and repetitive hehehehehe...

chapter 65

these three aren’t irresponsible.  geto and gojo are a troublesome duo for sure, but they’re dependable.  seems unlike them to forget something so simple and essential to pretty much every mission.   

chapter 65

here’s my headcanon.  they were hanging outside or in the car when their assistant manager got a call.  the assistant was informed that two days have elapsed since mei and utahime went on their mission (or last contacted someone).  

gojo: that’s weird.  mei’s with her so they should have finished exorcising the spirit sooner.

geto: you think something happened to them?  maybe it’s a strong special grade.

gojo: utahime probably dragged mei down with her.  poor mei-san~  

gojo gets up 

geto: where are you going?  

gojo: going to save utahime!  it’s fine i’ll put up a curtain!

manager: gojo wait!!!!!!!!!!!

geto sighs

shoko: that idiot’s always running off without us.

they pin the blame on gojo for saying that he’ll put up a curtain and leaving the assistant manager behind.  you know what this means?  he ran and the manager couldn’t catch up HEHE... why the rush, gojo?  were you actually concerned about her?  

tbh i don’t see gojo ever running to something unless it’s urgent.  the fact that he ran to save her says a lot.  

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let me know if you have any thoughts or questions!  i forgot to add this but gojo had a more serious expression when he was explaining how they must’ve been trapped in a barrier that messes with time.  he then states, “we thought it was weird even though you’re here, mei.”  i know he was probably worried sick because if mei couldn’t be contacted then that means something must’ve happened to utahime too.  okay that’s it for now.  i’ll be bringing up this little detail i’ve noticed about utahime in the manga next :3