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jemmahazelnut · 3 years ago

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Two broken hearts with matching sides - Chapter 4

Summary: Freed and Laxus were inseparable friends, they always spent their days together ever since they were children, so much so that they were considered indivisible. That’s why everyone was surprised when during the last year of high school, the two boys no longer spoke a word from one day to the next. That’s why everyone was surprised when Freed left for Germany and Laxus knew nothing about it. After three years the two will be forced to see each other again, and for a period to live under the same roof. [Freed/Laxus]

Link: AO3

Here you can find Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three.

Jealousy

It was eight o'clock in the evening when the doorbell rang and Laxus heard someone coming to open the door. He just hoped it wasn't Freed, but it was very likely, as Bickslow wasn't there and Evergreen was in the bathroom. The girl always stayed there for hours, he doubted she had finished yet. The blond threw a look in the mirror, finished fixing his hair with the gel and then left the room.

Of course it was Freed who had opened the door and made Rufus sit in. The two obviously made an effort to have a polite conversation, but they all knew there was no good blood between them. Freed and Rufus had never gotten along in high school, they had always clashed over everything, probably because of their similar characters. But that certainly wasn't the reason Laxus had decided to go out with him, although it would’ve been satisfying to piss off Freed.

“Hi Laxus,” Rufus smiled as soon as he saw him and Laxus forced himself to look at him and not Freed. It was the best idea, to go out and get distracted with someone. If that someone was Rufus, so much the better. Maybe he’d even have a little fun. Indeed, certainly, since the blond seemed to have an interest in him.

“Hey, I'll take my coat and I'm ready,” he said.

“I made reservations at the Sabertooth, I hope it’s fine,” Rufus said. Laxus nodded as he grabbed his coat.

“Perfect,” he said as he slipped it on. Then his eyes wandered to Freed, but the boy didn't seem interested in their date. Why would he have to be, after all? Freed wasn't interested in him. With some nervousness Laxus walked to the door, running a hand on Rufus' back and pushing him out. What had he been thinking? To make Freed jealous? To piss him off? Freed had never been interested in him, better stick it in his head once and for all.

“Have a good evening,” Freed told them coldly.

“Thank you,” Rufus replied with a smile as Laxus closed the door without deigning to greet him. Have a good evening. The asshole. Why the hell was he still so interested in what Freed thought? He was fucking pathetic.

“I knew Freed was back, but I didn't think he was living with you,” Rufus commented as they started down the stairs.

“He can't find another apartment,” the blond replied dryly, hoping that he too wouldn’t start over with the same old story. He was starting to get tired of what people said, or what people thought. He could see curiosity in everyone's eyes. Rufus was no exception, and he was looking at him hoping to find something.

“Was there ever something between you two?” he asked. Laxus looked at him in surprise and felt the tension in his arms. Of all the people who had tried to figure out why they had drifted away, none had ever come this close.

“Where does the idea come from?” he asked him. Rufus shrugged.

“You were always together,” he just explained. Laxus found himself once again unable to argue.

“No, we were just friends,” he replied. It wasn't a lie. They were really just friends. Friends who kissed when they were drunk and who found themselves with their hands in each other's pants. Friends who rolled around in bed when his grandfather wasn't there, who drank just to have an excuse to take off their clothes. But still just friends.

“And now why don't you talk to each other anymore?” Rufus asked. Laxus gave him a dirty look.

“Our fucking business,” he replied irritably. Luckily Rufus asked nothing more and luckily the evening went on better than it had begun.

***

“Where’s Laxus?” Evergreen asked as she came out of the bathroom and left a trail of perfume behind her. Her hair was tied up in a turban and a few drops still ran down her face.

Freed was sitting on the sofa and he was pretending to find an apartment to stay in. He pretended, yes, because he didn't really want to leave there. He wanted to talk to Laxus again, and only there could he find any excuse to do so. Too bad he hadn't succeeded yet. He wasn't a coward, just, talking to the blond was difficult. Besides, he still hadn't quite decided what to tell him. Which was stupid, he'd had three fucking years to think about it.

“Out to dinner with Rufus,” he replied, hoping his annoyance wouldn't be felt. Fortunately, however, in those years he had created a neutral tone to talk with, so that his emotions didn’t leak out. And luckily her friend no longer knew him as well as she once did.

“Oh,” Evergreen said in surprise.

“I didn't know he was going out with the boys,” Freed commented keeping his gaze fixed on the computer, so as not to reveal his jealousy. Besides, senseless jealousy. He wasn't Laxus’ boyfriend, the blond had probably dated a lot of other guys in those three years, and besides, it didn't make sense to be jealous after three fucking years. Despite this, Freed found himself seething with rage. Of all the guys Laxus could date, with Rufus. That first-rate asshole Freed never got along with.

“He’s gay, shortly after you left, he came out” said the girl “I thought you knew” she added with a surprised and inquiring tone at the same time. Freed stared at the computer, refusing to look away.

He obviously knew. He and Laxus had kissed. Many times. They had touched. More and more times. They had never had sex but still, they had become very intimate. But it was all theirs, their secret, something they had never talked about, something Laxus had refused to talk about. Something Laxus apparently had forgotten. Because obviously alcohol made you forget things, especially if they were uncomfortable things to remember.

“I didn't know” he lied to her and closed the computer with a dry gesture. He got up and went to his room, telling Evergreen that he wasn't going to have dinner.

***

He couldn't sleep. He kept tossing and turning in bed without being able to close his eyes. Every time he did it, he remembered the old days, the way he and Laxus had fun. The way they hid from external eyes to kiss, to run their hands over each other.

Freed turned in the mattress, struggling to push those damned memories out of his mind. Why did he have to get lost in the past like that? Maybe instead of standing there hoping he and Laxus could talk, he'd better leave. Maybe he should’ve returned to Germany.

He closed his eyes wondering why he had returned to Magnolia. The university was just an excuse, he had done it on purpose to see his old friend again. But what was the use if he couldn't even talk to him? What was the point if Laxus had never been interested in him?

He heard the front door open and something fall to the ground. Laughter and chatter. Freed was instantly irritated. Laxus had returned and was with Rufus. He didn't understand what they were saying, but they didn't try too hard to keep quiet. In fact, they seemed to be enjoying making as much noise as possible. To let everyone know that they had fucked, that they had fun and that they’d probably do it again on the sofa in the living room.

At that awareness Freed's anger escalated even more. For years Laxus had refused to talk about what was between them, for years Freed had kept his secret and hadn't forced him to say anything, and now he was fucking quietly without worrying about being overheard with that asshole Rufus? How the hell he allowed himself.

Freed got up from the bed pissed off, ignoring the voice in his head that was telling him he was screwing up, that he wasn't Laxus's boyfriend, that he had no right to be jealous, that he didn't have to demand anything from him, especially after having escaped to Germany. But he didn't care. He needed to let off steam, and luckily for him there were two assholes on the other side of the wall who deserved to put up with all his wrath.

He went into the living room and saw the two boys making out near the door. The urge to punch both of them ran by the arms, but the two broke away realizing that someone had entered.

“Uh, sorry Freed, did we wake you up?” Rufus asked with ruffled hair.

“Yes,” the boy growled, this time not bothering not to show his annoyance. He just wanted to insult them both, and maybe get the image of those two with their lips together out of his mind. “You're making a terrible mess, you'll wake everyone up,” he snapped.

“Put on some fucking headphones and go,” Laxus snapped, and Freed felt the urge to punch him again.

“No. He leaves. It's not his home and people are trying to sleep here,” he growled.

“Um... well, I really would go,” Rufus said noticing the air was blowing. He greeted Laxus with a sloppy kiss and left the apartment, under Freed's furious gaze. He was holding back, but he wouldn't be surprised if he walked through the door just to punch Rufus.

“What the hell is your problem, huh?” Laxus snapped as soon as they were alone. Freed was about to answer but the blond, obviously drunk, raised his voice. “This isn't even your apartment, you can't kick people out of the house!” he exclaimed.

“Well, I sleep here and pay the rent and the bills,” Freed answered between his teeth. “I think I’ve the right to sleep in peace without having to hear two drunks fucking in the living room.”

“No, you don't have it,” Laxus snapped, advancing towards him “You're a fucking scrounger, you're only here because Bickslow and Evergreen have pitied you, but since you arrived you've been making their lives worse. They can't stand you anymore. To tell the truth, nobody can stand you anymore. You should go back to Germany to your dear daddy and have your asshole cleaned, as you’re used to…”

The punch hit Laxus in the cheek without Freed even realizing it. His arm had gone off on its own, and he didn't feel guilty at all seeing the blond stagger slightly. To tell the truth, he felt a little better. He was beginning to repay the asshole for all the pain he had endured because of him.

Laxus turned to him, pushed Freed against the wall and a cabinet toppled to the floor. The flowerpot above broke into a thousand pieces but neither of them cared. Laxus punched him in the face and Freed gasped for a moment. He recovered quickly and was about to beat him again but at that moment the corridor light went on, and the two turned to see Evergreen and Bickslow.

“What the hell are you doing?” snapped the girl.

“Our fucking business,” Laxus replied immediately, then grinned, taking a step away from Freed. “Indeed, they’re your business too. This is all thanks to you, you’re happy to have us reunited now, right?” he asked furiously.

“You fucking idiot,” Evergreen growled as she stepped forward. Freed ran his palm over his jaw. Damn, Laxus had hurt him.

“Shit whore,” Laxus spat. “You organized all this, only because you’re not able to do your own fucking business. Next time maybe you'll learn not to get in the middle of my life” he growled at her.

“Shut your fucking mouth!” Evergreen yelled. “And here the assholes are you two. You can't even talk to each other civilly. But you're right, I was wrong to get in the way of your relationship. Go ahead and beat yourself up, but get it out of this apartment, because I won't take care of you two!” she blurted out.

“Oh, nowyou understand,” Laxus commented scornfully. Evergreen gave him a dirty look. Bickslow stepped in the middle.

“Ok, you've been drinking. Let's calm down and let's all go to sleep, huh?” he asked.

“And pretend nothing happened? Well, let's keep pretending that everything’s fine and it's not his fault.” Laxus growled pointing at Freed. The boy remained silent. “Why don't you tell him how bad you were left when he left without even warning you? Why don't you tell him what an asshole he was to go live with his rich daddy without even a fucking goodbye?” he blurted out.

“Laxus, you’re drunk. We better talk about it tomorrow,” Bickslow said trying to calm down. Evergreen ran her hands over her temples in exasperation. Neither of them had denied what Laxus had said, however, and Freed felt himself sinking. Why the hell had he gone back to Magnolia? He had been a fool. He passed Laxus and went to the door.

“Hey, where are you going?” Bickslow asked.

“Laxus is right. None of you want me here,” he replied, opening the door.

“Freed” Evergreen tried to say but her voice was obscured by Laxus's.

“Yes, go away. It's the only thing you can do!” he barked. Freed closed the door behind him as he heard Laxus' screams still in his ears.

***

Alcohol flowed into his body but Freed was grateful for it. It was only thanks to that that he could take refuge in a corner of the room and kiss Laxus. Feeling his hands on him, his lips on him, on his neck, all over his skin.

Laxus's fingers ran up his torso until they reached his belt and pulled it down. Freed moaned as he felt his hand disappear under his boxers and sat astride Laxus, kissing him madly and pulling his hair lightly. Good heavens, he hadn't thought a kiss would end like this.

Kissing at every party, at every hangover. Drinking and then locking himself up somewhere with his friend to make out and touch each other. He liked it so much, he didn't want to get out of there anymore, he didn't want that moment to end.

Freed pulled up his friend's shirt, but at that moment he heard someone knock on the door. Freed and Laxus broke apart, panting and red in the face. They didn't answer and the handle went down, but luckily the two had locked the door.

“Who's in here? Hell, why the fuck did you lock the door!” it was the voice of Cana. Freed jumped off Laxus' legs and buttoned his pants, while Laxus adjusted his shirt and stood up. When they were both presentable the blond opened the door.

“Oh, it's you two. What were you doing locked up?” asked the curious girl and Freed felt himself blush. A mischievous smile appeared on the brunette's face. “Were you fucking?”

“Don't bullshit, we were smoking weed,” Laxus snarled right away. Cana's eyes widened.

“What?” she asked stunned. Freed didn't dare say anything, fearing that whatever came out of his lips would make the situation worse.

“Don't tell anyone,” the blond growled and then left the room. Freed followed him carefully avoiding the gaze of the girl, who still looked at them in shock. Laxus was practically running down the stairs and Freed was following him, until he rolled over and hit him. He feared that Laxus would push him away, but instead the blonde held him straight.

“Hey, are you okay?” he whispered. Freed nodded vigorously.

“Yes,” he said in a whisper, feeling the warmth envelop him again. Obviously Laxus wouldn't push him away, he liked him. Good heavens, Laxus liked him. Even if it only happened when they were drunk, it meant something, right? It meant that Laxus liked him at least a little. More than a little, considering what his friend had done to him. Considering what Laxus had achieved with his hands. He tried not to think about it so as not to make the situation worse in his pants, which were already quite tight.

“Let's get out of here,” Laxus said and dragged him out of the Cana’s house. Freed didn't object, he honestly couldn't wait to be alone with Laxus. The two went out and hid behind a tree in the garden. As soon as they were there, Laxus pulled him towards him, taking his face in his hands and kissing him intensely. Freed instantly reciprocated, clinging to his shoulders and feeling his heart explode with joy again.

“It's our secret, okay?” Laxus asked as they pulled apart. Freed quickly nodded. Anything, just to spend more evenings like this with Laxus. He was about to ask him if he liked him, if it could be more, but Laxus kissed him again, preventing him from speaking. And after all, why did Freed have to complicate things? They enjoyed themselves, and even if they only did it when they drank, that was just fine with him. That just meant he’d get drunk more often.

#fraxus #fanfiction #laxus dreyar #freed justine #freed x laxus

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xsparklingravenx · 4 years ago

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to the heavens

Title: to the heavens

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Characters: Venti, Diluc, Venti’s Friend, Amos

Rating: T

Word Count: 6,619

Summary: Venti has lost more than most in the pursuit of freedom. One, unassuming evening, Diluc asks a question that prompts him to share those losses.

AO3

“Oh Mondstadt let me tell you,

Of violent tales of old,

Where a boy, no name or stature,

Took on a journey bold”

In the corner of a darkened tavern, a boy dressed in green sang. His fingers danced nimbly across a tinkling lyre, drawing forth sounds that could only be matched by divinity itself. Every word brought forth a new listener, drunkards, guild members, even the bartender himself, who stood steadfast behind the counter with his arms crossed. The story spiralled in song, Mondstadt’s past told to its present.

This boy, a bard, no fighter,

Took Mondstadt in his hands,

Saying no despot will hold on

To these gorgeous, sacred lands

The song itself was a new one, though the green bard had told the story in many forms before. In celebration, in joy, in a simple sharing of knowledge, but never had he sung it like this. The tune was haunting, like it had been possessed by a ghost. His attempts to liven it up had not worked entirely, it seemed.

Eyes closed, the bard carried on. How easy it was, to get caught up in song like this. He’d taken his time writing this one, had bought in his oldest companion to listen in on it. When he’d asked the dragon, Dvalin, how he thought it sounded, the dragon had replied simply, “It sounds like a ballad for a funeral march, Barbatos.”

It was neither a ballad nor a funerary song, the bard thought privately, and he also thought that Dvalin very much needed an updated education in the art of music. That being said, when he opened his audience looked very much morose, as if he’d struck them down with some kind of malady born from tune. Even the bartender, who the bard rarely ever saw look anything other than stone-faced, had his mouth downturned a fraction further.

None of them offered to purchase him a drink, though they did clap for him, and many showered him with coin at the end of his performance, some wiping away inexplicable tears. “Why, thank you! Thank you! Your generosity will be remembered—right when I go and get myself something from the bar with all your wonderful donations!”

Lyre still in hand, the bard marched up to the counter with all the confidence of someone twice his height. Pushing several coins onto the counter, he said, “One dandelion wine, if you please, Master Diluc.”

Diluc looked down at him, one eyebrow raised. His red hair was tied up as it always was. The bard thought it looked like a scorched sunset.

“If I start serving you regularly, people are going to think that I make a habit out of serving the underage," Diluc said.

“Oh, come now, I hardly show up that much!” The bard pushed the coins further across the table, as if that would somehow sweeten the pot. “I’m a paying customer. Angel Share’s most famous one at that. You know, I could write a whole poem about this place, bring people flocking in from all over Teyvat! I have friends in high places too, they’d spread the word even farther…”

“Business is already good enough.”

“And I’m not even underage, so your argument is void and forgotten.”

“Venti—” Diluc stopped, rubbing at his temples. Venti snickered, knowing victory was in reach. “I don’t understand it. Something as old, and as powerful as you, and yet you choose to appear as a child. Why not change? Then you’d encounter no trouble at all.”

It was a valid enough question. Venti leant back on his stall, placing his lyre on the free one next to him. How did he explain it? “It’s…a long story. One that I’m always happy to tell, but you’re free to listen, if you want.”

Dilic’s eyes flicked up to the clock that sat on the wall behind the counter. “Guess it’s a slow enough night. We’re still open for a while, so if you want to talk, then talk. Make it worth my while, though.”

“Only in exchange for a dandelion wine, of course.”

“At which point did I say I even wanted to hear your story?” Diluc asked, his expression utterly flat. “You get one wine, that’s it. I’m not dealing with your drunken antics. I’ve seen them, and I’m not impressed.”

Despite his reluctance, he got the glass and the bottle. Venti hummed as he watched him pour it. It was his favourite; if you could get comfort in a liquid form, then dandelion wine was it. Even old Morax enjoyed it, whenever Venti was willing enough to share it. He’d have to get them together sometime, so they could partake in some festive activities of their own.

Venti cupped his hands around the glass when Diluc handed it to him. He was eager to take the first sip, but he held back. Though he loved his wine, there was perhaps one thing he loved even more. Storytelling was in his blood. It was the reason he was still here after thousands of years of life and more to come.

“I didn’t always look like this, you know,” he said, eager to hook, eager to draw Diluc’s attention fully. And then, he winked.

Without his lyre, he sung once more.

“Master Diluc, let me tell you,

Of violent tales of old,

Where a boy, no name or stature,

Took on a journey bold”

~x~

The sky was a veritable nightmare of storm and fury, and yet, beneath it, life went on as it always did.

Mondstadt was a gilded cage, a prison where its people were protected and safe, yet wanting only for freedom. That was what the wind spirit had learned on its travels through the city. That was the wind spirit had understood upon listening to the singing of the young bard who made his home in the desolate cathedral.

The wind spirit came to listen to him often, for there was no other who could compare to him, not even outside the city. His voice carried on the wind like Decarabian himself favoured him, and maybe he did, enjoying how his songbird sang for freedom while locked in its cage. The young bard worked his lyrics to the bone, conveying so much with so little, emotion and feeling packed not just into his words, but into his nifty work with the instrument he carried. The wind spirit did not know the name of it, but it did love how it looked, how the boy made it sing too.

He wore his hair in braids, and the wind spirit never saw him without his brown cloak, which billowed in the storms that trapped them all. This was a human, it thought. So big, so powerful, with the ability to turn words into inspiration, to make thought into action. This boy was far stronger than the wind spirit, who was a simple thread of a single element, who could be blown away with even the simplest of gusts.

But even as skilled and as powerful as the boy was, it was a difficult existence. Though his magic was in his music, it was not a lucrative position. Much of his audience were struggling themselves, and there was little money to go around. The wind spirit watched from the shadows as the boy suffered; he was an orphan, hiding within the cathedral’s walls from the turbulent weather, sometimes going days without food when he could not afford it. Not even Decarabian helped. As his songbird starved, he paid no attention.

But the wind spirit did. One evening, after dark, when his audience had dispersed, it went searching. The market stalls had been cleared away, but, in a stroke of good fortune, the tiny spirit found something red and round and almost unbruised, tucked away near a tavern. An apple, it had heard the people call this particular fruit. It was not much for a human as big as the bard, but it was better than nothing.

So, with all its might, the wind spirit began to push the apple. It used all its very limited power over the wind, and slowly, it rolled the apple out of its hiding place. The trip back to the cathedral was long, and arduous—though not many people noticed the strange apple and the tiny spirit, for they were hardly important in the grand scheme of their own lives.

After much effort, the wind spirit arrived at its goal; though it soon found itself blocked by an object it had not expected; a heavy set of closed doors barring the way into the cathedral. Irritated, it puffed up its cheeks and kicked its tiny feet at the door. Let me in, it cried silently. I have a gift!

During the day, the doors were always open! How could this happen? Its poor bard was on the other side, starving, and the wind spirit had the answer right there. There was nothing for it; the little spirit would have to get his attention, no matter what.

As a being of the wind, it was easy to manipulate its form into almost nothing at all. It slipped through the cracks between the doors with ease, but the apple remained stuck outside. Popping back into existence as its usual form, the spirit fluttered its pixie-like wings and floated towards where the bard was curled up, his face screwed up as he slept. He was not the only one who called this abandoned cathedral home; there were others sleeping too, boys and girls with no parents, who had nowhere else to go. They were stuck here too. There was nowhere to escape to, not when Mondstadt was closed off to the rest of the world.

The wind spirit stopped in front of the boy’s face. What was he dreaming of, to look like that? Was it a bad dream? Something cruel? Did Decarabian himself appear, taunting the songbird that his freedom would never be near? Likely not, but the wind spirit could not help but consider the possibilities as it shook its stubby arms free of its tiny, white cloak.

It prodded the boy in the face. Once. Twice. The boy stirred a moment before rolling over entirely. No, thought the wind spirit in frustration. Pay attention to me!

So he floated over to the other side, and began again. Prod. Prod. Prod. Nose. Lips. Cheeks.

Finally, the boy cracked open an eye. “Who—”

He cut himself off when he spotted the wind spirit. There was a moment of tense silence, and suddenly, the boy bolted back with a gasp. The wind spirit, equally as shocked, fell onto its back with a shrill little cry.

So alarmed as it was, it kicked its little legs, its wings trapped behind it. It was not until the boy scooped him up and said, “Shh,” that it calmed. “Sorry, little guy. I didn’t mean to scare you. You just…well. Scared me.”

The little spirit placed its stubby arms on its waist in an imitation of what it had seen the bard do when he was irritated. This appeared to charm the boy, who let out a tinkling little laugh. “Sorry, sorry. Were you the one poking at me?”

His voice sounded different when he spoke. Still sweet and nice, but not nearly as lyrical. The wind spirit hopped off his hands, and poked at the boy’s stomach. Then, it went flying off towards the door, hoping the boy would get the hint.

“What are you doing?” the boy whispered, keeping his voice low as to not wake the others.

The spirit chirped. It didn’t quite have the facilities for speech, so it could only communicate through gestures and sound. It pointed to the door, and the boy clicked his fingers in triumph. “Ah! You’re trapped in here, and you want to be let out, right?”

Not quite, but at least it would get him to open the door. The little spirit chirped again, and the boy came over, finally pushing the door open. Free, the spirit immediately descended down to perch itself on the apple, arms at its waist again this time as it puffed up its chest in pride.

The boy stared at the apple and the spirit both. After a moment, he knelt down, and the spirit hopped off the apple to push it towards the boy. He took it in his hand, asking, “Is this for me?”

The wind spirit nodded. There was a lot to tell him, but nothing it could say, so it chirped once more. How it wanted to share its appreciation for the music the bard gave so freely, how it wanted to step in where Decarabian wouldn’t, but the apple would have to do for now.

“Thank you,” the boy said, looking at the red shine of the apple, and oh, what kind of words could he come up with to describe it, the spirit wondered? “Really. You don’t know how hungry I am…this means a lot. Do you have a name, little guy?”

The wind spirit shook its head left and right. It had been born from the elements, it had no parents like the boy once would have, and so, it had nobody to name it.

“You look a little like an elf…” the boy said, but the spirit shook its head at that too. “Oh, well, I’m sure I can come up with something for you, if you wouldn’t mind.”

The spirit could hardly believe its luck! A name! Something humans had! All in exchange for an apple? Surely it was not a fair enough trade. It would have to bring even more to make up for it.

Floating upwards, the spirit tugged at the bard’s sleeve. What’s your name? It wanted to ask so badly, but all it could do was hope that its intent was understood.

The bard tilted his head. “What is it?”

Name! The spirit chirped again. It flew to the bard’s chest and poked him in the chest. You. Tell me!

“Oh! Me?”

The spirit nodded. Finally! It floated up to the bard’s face, listening intently. It didn’t want to miss the moment. It wanted to commit this to memory forever.

The boy chuckled at its antics, and his laugh was such a wonderful thing. Decarabian was a fool, for staying up high, for ignoring his citizens, because listening to this, the wind spirit didn’t know how he could ever justify keeping his people locked away. If only he came down, then maybe he would understand. But he wouldn’t, because, as the people always said, the Archon was a tyrant who only cared about keeping his rule.

But that didn’t matter in the moment. The boy opened his mouth. The spirit listened.

“My name is—”

~x~

“So your story is tied to your song from earlier,” said Diluc, who had poured himself a drink of his own now. Hardly the most responsible act from the owner of Angel’s Share, but who was Venti to judge men on their responsibilities when he barely did anything from one day to the next? “The boy the wind spirit—you— met and the boy in the tale is the one and the same.”

“Well, yeah, but you didn’t have to jump ahead like that!” Venti huffed, taking a sip of his wine. The sweet, floral taste exploded over his tastebuds, the bitter hint behind it only strengthening the flavour. “Back then, Mondstadt was…boring. Stagnant. Everyone was trapped and lonely. They yearned for nothing but freedom, and music was a close way to get it—but the economy was suffering too, and the bard could barely make ends meet.”

“So, what was the name he granted you?”

“Oh, that. Yeah, he named me after some character in a book he was reading at the time. Barbatos, you might be familiar with such a moniker.”

“Interesting,” Diluc said, not sounding very interested at all. “Making Venti a…stage name?”

“Psh.” Venti waved a hand dismissively. It was not a stage name, but they would get to that eventually. The cosy, dark atmosphere of the bar was making him a little drowsy, but he couldn’t just stop here now he’d started. “From there, I always came front and centre to his performances, but I soon came to realise that something was missing. Though he always sang of freedom, though he inspired the people around him to also yearn for it, he didn’t ever sing of what came after. He never sang about what to do with that freedom after their independence had been gained.”

The memories were still clear, despite having taken place over two millennia ago. It was easy to recall how the storms raged over Mondstadt, how they grew and grew, how, one day, Venti had realised how they nearly swallowed up his bard friend’s voice. It was as if Decarabian had grown tired of his singing, as if he’d figured out the truth behind his words and wanted to drown out his songbird before it grew restless enough to try breaking the cage.

“One thing to say, another thing to actually do,” Diluc said, but the way he said it suggested that he knew that better than most. Venti knew a little of his story, but not all of it, mostly gathered in scraps from others. There was a rift between him and that knight, Kaeya, that seemed like it would be difficult to patch. “But, we’re having this conversation right now, and I already heard the ending to your song earlier. He didn’t just sit on his hands.”

That was another memory, one so stark and clear that it might as well have been caught on one of the traveller’s kameras. Venti nodded, and he sung, into his drink.

“I want to see those birds in flight,”

A declaration swift,

But with it came a reckoning

That would set their fates adrift

Diluc said, “Is that really what he said?”

“Word-for-word,” Venti said. Now he really did need another sip. Remembering that statement both warmed him and tore his heart apart. Had the bard never said it, maybe he would have lived his life long, not content, but alive regardless—but Venti knew that a life imprisoned was no life at all. He was desperate to see those birds. To see even one in flight, to see the world outside and know it was accessible, it was a wish worth dying for.

“He wanted to write a poem so great, and he was going to use the birds to do it,” Venti explained around the wine. “I think he could have done it, too. He just…didn’t get the chance, unfortunately.”

In a rare act of compassion, Diluc topped up his glass. Noticing the delight in Venti’s eyes, he warned him, “Just once,” and then set the bottle back down. “So, none of this has actually explained to me why you’re so intent on showing up like you are. Are you actually going to tell me, or is this an elaborate hoax all so you can listen to the sound of your own voice?”

“Hey! I was getting to the point, you’re the one jumping ahead!” Venti glared at him over the top of his glass. “Anyway, my voice is great to listen to. You should be so honoured that the great bard Venti is taking time out of his personal schedule to tell you this.”

“Taking time out of his personal schedule to badger me into serving him wine, I think you mean,” Diluc said.

“Yeesh.” Venti shook his head. “Alright, where was I…oh, yeah. Birds in flight. Okay. Buckle up, Master Diluc.”

And so, he sang once more.

With companions at his side now,

The bard took forth his plan

To topple Mondstadt’s tyrant

And free his fellow man

~x~

The scrolls were scattered all across the cathedral’s floor. Images of sun, sea, and grassland glittered upon them, everything that laid beyond the storm able to be touched, visualised, dreamed of.

The wind spirit floated next to the bard as they both looked at the illustrations. Decarabian’s lover had bought them to show him after she had heard one of his songs. So touched by his tales of what might be awaiting them outside, she had stolen the scrolls from Decarabian’s personal affects, and brought them down to them.

The spirit knew that she was a beautiful woman, in the sense that he knew that the words to describe her would be the same ones traditionally used to describe beautiful women. Her hair was so blonde, it was near white, and it tumbled down her back in waves. Her smile was pleasant and pink, and her hands were slender and thin. They did not seem suited to the bow she carried with her, the bow that she did not need given her status, but she had learned to use anyway.

They were not the only ones looking upon the illustrations. Among the boys and girls who also lived in the cathedral, another new face had joined them; the knight, with hair as red as the sunset one of the images depicted. He carried a claymore wider than his body, and held knowledge of every wine in Mondstadt. Like the lover, he had also heard the bard’s songs of freedom, and he’d been enticed by them.

Somehow, their duo had grown to number four, all of them dreaming of something better. The wind spirit had not left Mondstadt in sometime, for it felt terrible to traverse the storm-clad sky without its friends, but it mattered little when everything it needed was right within the city’s walls. What was there to leave for, when home was right there?

The bard was strangely quiet as he looked upon the scrolls. The wind spirit sat on his knee, looking at them also. It watched in silence as he ran his fingers over the images of suns, of creatures unknown to them all, of gemstones and ore that could not be found in Mondstadt. So much awaited outside, and yet there was no way to reach it.

“There is little left in this city to see,” lamented the lover as she too looked over the scrolls. “Decarabian thinks he loves me, but he only loves his rule. I’ve told him so many times how I wish to see what is outside for myself, and yet…we remain here. Trapped.”

“If only battle were enough to see it done,” said the knight, sat on the pews with his sword at his side. “I would fight my way out of this prison if I could. I would take every man, woman, and child with me.”

The wind spirit chirped sadly, for it could do nothing but watch them. It had no power of its own, no ability to wield a weapon, no Vision to do magic with. It was simply a puff of air, an wayward shard of elemental power, to little to make an impact.

It floated upwards, looking upon a scroll depicting sky so blue, with birds flitting across it. The boy looked at it too, chewing at his lip. Was he so hungry that he had to eat that too?

“But what if…what if we could fight our way out of this prison?” asked the bard, drawing the attention of both the lover and the knight. He was like that; he could garner eyes like Decarabian garnered power. “I want to see the birds in flight. I want to write a poem so great. But…if we stay here, I’ll never do either.”

The wind spirit didn’t understand. What fighting could they do? The knight and the lover were strong, but the bard had little but his lyre, and the spirit had nothing at all. It wanted to ask, but the knight responded for him. “Preposterous!”

“Is it?” asked the lover, one hand at her chest. “Perhaps…perhaps if we go to him, if we show him with our own power what he has done wrong, Decarbia will open his eyes. Maybe he will see me for who I am…!”

“We would have to incite all of Mondstadt into joining us,” said the bard, and the knight looked positively dumbfounded. “It would be no easy rebellion…but maybe it would change something, right? Or, we’re all just going to live our lives caged like this, and that’s…well. It’s not living at all, is it?”

The spirit chirped. But what of the danger! Was freedom worth the possibility of fighting a god? Was that what the bard was trying to tell him?

“You’re mad,” said the knight, shaking his head fondly. “Yet…I can’t deny what you’re saying there. Our entire lives have been spent this way. People have lived and died for hundreds of years, never once seeing outside this storm. It steals our words and our opportunities…and yet nobody has ever challenged it. Not once.”

Was it out of terror? Or acceptance? Did the people take their lives for what they were because they knew there was no way out? Or were they just frightened of change? The spirit didn’t know enough to come up with an answer. It didn’t understand humanity enough to say. But it knew its friend, the bard, and it knew that he would never be scared of change. Instead, he would only ever fear life staying as it was.

The life of a caged songbird was an easy one, but it offered no opportunity for growth. There was no experience to be had within these walls, and at the least, the spirit knew that. So, when the bard turned to it with determination shining in his sky-blue eyes, the spirit understood that change was in the air.

There would be no going back from this. The bard inspired with his words. That was his power. With a hand outstretched to the spirit, he said, “Let’s do this, then. Let’s cast out the tyrant, and tear down the walls. We can take our plight to the masses and garner allies. If all of the city will fight, then what can one single Archon hope to achieve?”

Strength in numbers. That was the key to their locked door, the solution to the puzzle before them. If they showed the scrolls to the people, if the bard sung of the outside and what awaited there, then they could sway opinions.

That night, the wind spirit made a decision. It left Mondstadt for the first time in an age, and it traversed the mountainous region until it found an eagle. It watched it in flight, beating its wings against the midnight sky, stars twinkling above. It thought that, maybe, in the future, there should be a place to watch for sights just like this. Somewhere to view the stars. The sky.

As the eagle flew, a feather fell from its plumage. Inspired, the wind spirit leapt into action, snatching it from the air and cradling the large feather close to its tiny body. It was taller than it, and most definitely heavy, but it was inexplicably beautiful. Brown and soft like an embrace, it would make a wonderous gift for his bard friend.

But, oh, when to give it? Now felt too early. But what if the spirit was to stash it away? Keep it safe and present it to the bard when the battle was won, when the outside world was accessible to them all? Yes. To give it now would only upset the bard. It would only reinforce how he was still locked away.

So the wind spirit took the feather back to Mondstadt, hiding it within the cathedral. Its time would come. Once the rebellion was over, he would hand it over proudly.

After all, it thought, I’ll follow you anywhere, my friend.

~x~

“Hey, Master Diluc…do you have any regrets?” Venti asked.

He’d come to an abrupt stop while telling his story. Thankfully, his glass was still half-full, which was good because he knew he was going to need it for the last part. Diluc, who had been cleaning his own glass, stopped sharply in his movements.

The bar was much quieter now than it had been when Venti had been performing. Most of the other patrons had left by now. It was getting late, and yet Diluc had not done his last call. Instead, he’d carried on listening to Venti’s story, giving him his undivided attention.

“I…have my own, yes,” Diluc said stiffly. “None that I’m willing to share.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to.” Venti sighed, his earlier cheer having vanished entirely. “I have tons. Guess it’s hard not to, though. Comes with the territory and all. Being old is tough. I dunno how Morax does it.”

“Liyue’s Archon?”

“Yeah. He’s even older than me. He’s seen a lot of death and war in his time. Lost people close to him. That’s how it is.” Venti paused, leaning his elbow on the counter, and then his head on his hand. With his other hand, he circled the circumference of the glass. “I’m not even half his age, did you know?”

“I didn’t, but Morax doesn’t have anything to do with you being underage in my bar.” Diluc put his glass behind the counter and stood back. “So, I can make an educated guess here. You should have given the bard the feather when you had the chance.”

“It’s one of those funny things, huh? When you look back, you can see exactly what you should have done.” Venti thought on it any time he saw an eagle. If he could go back, he would never have stashed the feather. “The rebellion moved fast, once it began to assemble. Decarabian’s lover, Amos, she was swift and deft and eager to join the battle when it finally broke out. She went to the frontlines; she stormed the tower she’d once called home. The knight, he played the part of protectorate. I remember being so impressed, but…then, the God of Storms descended from his tower. And Amos was nowhere in sight.”

Venti’s fingers twitched. He still had her bow, and he sometimes wielded it into his own battles. It was all he’d managed to retrieve from her body, when he’d found it, rent asunder by Decarabian’s winds. Until that moment, he’d never known how damaging his element could be. Anemo was a wonderous thing, but so destructive too. That was the lesson he’d learned.

“You still haven’t gotten to your point, bard,” Diluc said. “I’m waiting with bated breath.”

He certainly didn’t sound like he was, but who was Venti to deny him? Smiling wryly, he began his song once more, building to the climax.

But the war was not without loss

And friends he loved were lost

And as those arrows flew free

For freedom, his life was cost.

~x~

In the aftermath of the battle, as the sun dawned on Mondstadt for the first time in ages, it was the lover that the wind spirit found first, though she was recognizable only from her hair, pale, near white where it hadn’t been stained red with her blood.

Debris had been cast across the city. The God of Storm’s anger had ripped it apart. The lover’s bow was held loose in her fingers, and the wind spirit touched it in sorrow. It was not big enough to take it in its hands. Freedom had been so close for her, and yet she had died in her pursuit of it.

In the storm, the wind spirit had been thrown from its companions, and now it sought them in the wreckage. There were bodies, countless, and the wind spirit found itself wondering, was liberty worth such loss? It had to be, surely. This was what the bard had been dreaming of.

Survivors sought their loved ones. The wind spirit searched too for its own. It had to bring them back to the lover, to retrieve her bow and lay her to rest. She had gone ahead, but the knight had remained behind alongside the bard. He would have protected him. That was his strength.

And indeed, it was the knight whom the spirit found then, hair as red as the apple that the spirit had forged a friendship with. He was knelt over someone as he cast his gaze at the decimated tower of Decarabian, and oh, how the wind spirit’s heart soared. It fluttered through the air, desperate to get to him—

Only to stop short when it laid its own eyes on the body that the knight held close. Arrows riddled their chest, turning their well-worn cloak red with blood. Their braids, so familiar, hung loose and undone. Almost unrecognizable was he, the bard whom the spirit had so dedicated his existence to.

Death was not something the spirit understood well, for it was not something that happened to elemental spirits. Surely the bard was simply injured. He did not look so bad as the lover did. Humans were tough, after all. A little Hydro magic, and he would be perfectly fine. They just had to find a healer.

But as the spirit drew closer, it began to realise that it would not be so simple. Healers only worked on those who still breathed, and the bard was as still as bedrock in the hold of the knight. The knight himself wore an expression so stricken with agony that the wind spirit could hardly believe it. He didn't look like the same man he had been before.

When he noticed the spirit, he ducked his head low in sorrow. The bard did not stir; he was not sleeping. Even when the spirit poked at him, he did not move.

Prod. Prod. Prod. Nose. Lips. Cheeks.

The boy did not crack his eyes open, because he was no longer with them.

A strange, brittle noise split the air. The spirit did not realise it was its own wails until the knight took it in hand and held it close. Why did it hurt so much? It was not injured, and yet it felt as if it had been torn apart by Decarabian himself.

In many ways, it had.

“I am sorry,” said the knight, whose remorse bled into his own voice. “Even my best was not enough to save him.”

But all the little spirit could do was blame itself. If it had not been separated, it thought, then could it have done something? It would have followed the bard to the end, but now, he had gone to the one place that the spirit could not follow. The caged songbird was dead, murdered in its search for freedom.

The eagle’s feather was nothing more than an empty promise, one that would never be fulfilled. As birds flitted their way across the unbound sky of Mondstadt, that was all the spirit could think.

~x~

“There were discussions, after, but I won’t bore you with the details. All you need to know is that Boreas chickened out of responsibility, so yours truly took up being the new Anemo Archon—and, well, that meant I got a whole lot of new powers too.”

Angel’s Share was near empty now, just Venti and Diluc left. Venti’s glass had been drained dry, and he was beginning to feel the buzz of it. Good. It was better that way.

Diluc took the glass and said, “Meaning you were a wind spirit no longer.”

“Well, yeah, and no. I’m still the wind spirit inside. If I dissolve this form, that’s what you’d see. Tiny little elf, that’s me.” Venti grinned and swung his legs off the stall. “But…I’m not gonna dissolve this form. Or change it. Because if I did, it’d hardly be honouring my friend now, would it?”

Diluc’s sigh was so heavy that even his shoulders deflated. “I had a feeling that might be the case. Still weighs on you even now, doesn’t it?”

Venti nodded. At least Diluc was clever enough to read between the lines. “I loved him. My friend, the bard—I did everything I could to honour him. He was a bard, so I learned how to sing. He wanted freedom, so I made that my core. He was Venti, so Venti was who I became—but the stories didn’t remember the name of the bard, so I decided to keep his memory alive like this. Barbatos is my true name, the name he gave me, but Venti is who I am when I want to live a little like he did. Free.”

“So, that new song tonight,” Diluc said, packing away the glass and the rest of the countertop. “What was that? An elegy for him?”

“An elegy? Nah. That’s more a lament for the dead, but this…well. I don’t wanna lament his life. There’s no point, he wouldn’t want it. I’d rather celebrate it instead. But everyone says it sounds sad. I guess my idea is different to everyone else's. huh?”

Diluc frowned. Times like this, he reminded Venti of the knight, with that stern expression. Maybe they were not so different, even with the thousands of years between them. “And what was the final verse again?”

Picking up his lyre once more, Venti let his fingers strum at it for the backing tune. Though the initial verses were indeed tragic, the final verses were not those of remorse or grief, but of the happiest ending he could come up with. Yes, his bard friend was long gone; nothing would bring him back, and yet Mondstadt stood tall and proud, free as it had been that day two thousand, six hundred years before.

But in his death, he found it

The freedom he’d so sought

To the heavens his soul flew on to

His struggles not for nought

So Mondstadt let me tell you,

Of violent tales of old,

Of that boy, no name or stature,

Took on his journey bold

Diluc closed his eyes as Venti continued to play the lyre, even when the song was finished. Sometimes, music was soothing in its own way. It didn’t need a literal story; the notes told its own.

“Thanks for the story,” he said eventually. “But that song still sounds like an elegy. Anyway, don’t think of this as a pass to come drinking in here looking like that all the time. At least do it when it’s quiet.”

“Diluc!” Venti gasped. “Is that an invitation to come singing in here more often?”

“I have no idea how you managed to get that out of what I just said,” Diluc narrowed his eyes. “If you want to play here, I don’t care. It’s me getting a charge for serving a child that I have to be worried about.”

“Like I’d ever let that happen!” Venti hopped off the seat, hands on his hips as he stood proud. “You know who you’re talking to?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Fortunately, yes,” Venti corrected. “And anyway, Jean would never let you be ruined for serving me, right? You’re fine. But…hey. Thanks for listening. Sometimes, it’s nice to tell the full story. Even if it hurts, it’s good to share it. Helps pass on the memory a little.”

Diluc nodded, answering only with a soft hum. Picking up the lyre, Venti continued to play it as Diluc finished his duties behind the counter, counting up his coin and clearing up the mess.

Until he snuffed out the final candle and the two departed, soft, dulcet tones rang out, telling a story all of its own.

#Genshin Impact #Venti #Diluc #Venti's friend #My Writing

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aros001 · 3 years ago

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First time read through light novel vol. 8. Random thoughts.

...So...does anyone else feel a little uncomfortable with that cover image between Reinhard and Felt? I mean, I know he's not going to do anything sexual to her and she's not as young as I originally thought she was (I think vol. 1 said she was 15, while ever since the anime I thought she was like 10 or something), but she still is underage, being forced into wearing and doing something she doesn't want to by a grown man, and I think just the way he's got his hand holding her bare thigh makes it feel more sexual than it should be.

Also, is Wilhelm floating? The heck is he sitting on?

Subaru was afraid of death. Dying constantly trashed his life with an unbearable sense of fear and loss. He thought it was like that for everyone; he assumed that was how it had to be. Subaru, who had experienced death more than anyone via Return by Death, didn’t want anyone else to know what it was like.

I'm definitely seeing more similarities between Subaru and Ferris here than I did in the anime. I like how they both have a more unique perspective on life and death than most people would; Subaru from his Return By Death and Ferris from being such a powerful healer (to the point he can even regenerate himself from near death, I guess). Again, for a series where death can be undone so easily, it really knows how to use that premise to show just how weighty and serious death is. While the two will and do kill, it sits with them more than it does for others because they know just how awful death can be.

Something I've really enjoyed when reading through various LN series after watching the anime first is that I end up liking certain characters that I didn't in the anime. I didn't hate Ferris but the cutesy way he talked really bugged me and I didn't focus on him much. Here though I'm definitely getting a better feel for his character, especially with how much he values life, cursing at the suicidal witch cult members for tossing theirs away so easily. He and Subaru's back and forth makes the ending feel that much more heartbreaking when Ferris has to mercy kill the possessed Subaru.

Also, just to clear up any confusion I have, is Ferris in drag or does he identify as a woman? I don't have any problem referring to him from now on as a "she" (I never had that problem with Magne in My Hero Academia) but I'd prefer to get my facts straight. Ferris also makes a joke about Subaru swinging over to his side of the fence but I'm not sure if that means he's gay or not. It's a little hard to tell how far his affection for Crusch runs, for example.

Similarly, there's Julius, a character I never disliked in the anime, but I can definitely see more of a path to him and Subaru becoming friends here. It is funny that a comment from Ferris got me thinking how something to two have in common is how easy it is for them to get others to immediately dislike them just by talking. For Subaru it's because he too often talks without thinking, shoving his foot into his mouth, and for Julius it's how unintentionally snobbish and "better-than-you" he can sound. It's also nice that the story is getting Subaru to try and work through his issues, acknowledging that he's being unfair towards Julius, whom really has done nothing wrong aside from unintentionally pricking at Subaru's inferiority complex.

Like Subaru, I thought demon beasts and monsters were just so common in the world that a barrier around a lord's domain was a very common thing. But from how the other characters in-story are talking, it sounds like Roswaal deliberately put his domain and the village in the center of (or at least nearby) a demon beast habitat. Even in the anime I always believed he knew more than he let on but here he feels like a straight-up mastermind with everything he's been pulling behind the scenes and all the things he's done that, as of yet, have no explanation or reason behind them. Just what is he up to?

One thing I'll say about this series in comparison to some others I've seen/read; the dark magic here, like with the Witch of Envy, Return By Death, the White Whale, and the Unseen Hands, really feels like DARK magic. I've seen series that have their own version of dark magic that'll make bad things happen or summon demons or sacrifice people, but this? Everything to do with the witch feels creepy and unnatural, like it's not or should not be part of the world. With how much suffering it's caused, the mystery behind the gospel, just how unhinged Petelgeuse is and his body jumping, it all feels like stuff you should really not be messing with. Even at the end with Subaru running off and Julius finding him, getting no response at first from Subaru, feels like something out of a horror movie.

Subaru keeps getting asked if he's Pride, to which I'm assuming they mean if he's the one to become the Archbishop of Pride. Personally, my theory is that because of how much the witch seems to "favor" him, Subaru is Envy, like, well, the Witch of Envy and the only one of the seven sins they never mention to have an archbishop, given Satella destroyed the other witches. If that's the case, I can only imagine how much that's going to piss off all the other archbishops, that after all their shows of devotion some schmuck came to their world out of nowhere and became Satella's favorite.

“Lending one’s strength does not mean merely swinging one’s sword. It means challenging the same foes, worrying over the same obstacles, sharing the wounds and the weight of the burdens. This we can do. This is the lesson I learned in the past.”

Obviously this is meant primarily for Subaru but I can't help but think it can apply to Rem and Emilia as well. With the exception of Puck, Emilia tends to go out of her way to avoid involving others in her problems or having them feel they owe her anything when she helps with theirs. Rem dedicated a good chunk of her life to live as her sister's replacement after Ram lost her horn and tried to kill all the demon dogs on her own after Subaru was cursed saving her. They both seem determined to bear the weight of their burdens solely on their own, like they're the only ones who need to suffer. Subaru goes back and forth on how much he involves others in his problems, but while he's more than willing to help ease the burdens on others, his problem for the longest time was that he was so fixated on "swinging his sword", as he thought fighting and strength was the only way to help (probably because strength would honestly solve a decent chunk of his own problems).

“Two days ago, the forest around the mansion became unnaturally calm... to the point that even my eyes could catch nothing. Thereupon, an armed group appeared bearing the crest of the House of Karsten, which had declared war with the blank letter... Surely you cannot blame my little bird’s heart for being on the verge of breaking?”

Ram, I had no idea how much I missed you until you came back.

Namely, that someone out there had swapped his letter of goodwill, aiming to turn Emilia and Crusch against each other.

I don't think a line or speculation like this was in the anime, which it probably should have been. Without it, it just seems like Subaru's an idiot and made a stupid mistake, but now it seems like someone is directly manipulating events behind the scenes. Personally, I'd say my money's on Roswaal if I didn't have terrible luck when it comes to gambling.

“Silence! Cease your prattle! Give that book back, right—”

“Hey, don’t shout. If you get too angry, you know—your brain’ll shake.”

...

“G...gah...! How dare you, dare you, dare youuuu! My disciple of love!!”

“Don’t gimme that, you’re the one who mixed us up! Tunnel vision! What, are you lazy?!”

HA!

Overlord was the first light novel series I read (the only other LN I'd read before was Death Note: Another Note - The Los Angeles BB Murder Cases and that was years ago), so naturally it's the series I tend to make the most comparisons to for the other series I've been reading. In this case, something I really like about both Ainz and Subaru is that, despite how they're presented sometimes, neither is actually stupid (though they too often suck at reading the room). They're both just in situations way over their head and they have no frame of reference for how to deal with these fantasy world situations. Subaru, like with tricking Sloth into getting attacked by demon beast or figuring out what was up with the flowers, has plenty of times where he shows he can come up with decent plans or quick thinking that can pull off a win. His flaws are based more in his own immaturity and need to grow more as a person.

Honestly, Ainz and Subaru are fun to compare because, of the LN MCs I've read so far, they both seem to get every break the other doesn't. Ainz is obvious. He's got actual power, tons of resources, and numerous people whose faith in him is absolute, while Subaru has almost nothing save for the curse and the clothes on his back and has to continuously struggle to make any difference. On the other hand, Ainz has no one in his life he can relate to or be his real self around, making him feel incredibly empty and lonely, while Subaru has attracted a surprisingly wide web of people around him whom, despite some hiccups, do genuinely believe in the real him.

I am 90% certain Emilia and Puck fighting Sloth wasn't in the anime. Well, no wonder anime-only fans have trouble liking her when you cut out nearly all of the character's best sh*t! [Edit: I was wrong. Another post pointed out it was at the end of ep 23. Like I said, it's been a bit since I saw the anime and I remembered none of this fight. Though I still stand by that LN Emilia is better than anime Emilia] Like I've said before, it's not like anime Emilia could just be replaced with a sexy lamp and nothing would be different, but compared to the LN version she really didn't get a lot to do in the anime outside of the first arc. She wants to be queen and sometimes heals people. Otherwise she was mostly off-screen or serving as Subaru's object of affection (and sometimes obsession). Just being able to fight isn't everything but Emilia here certainly feels like she has a lot more fire to her personality and does more when she appears. She's not just a nice, pretty girl for the MC to fight for.

Somehow, he’d died again. He’d probably lost it all once more.

He surrendered everything to the abyss. This was the familiar embrace of failure after he pathetically lost his life.

Look back at the world.

Look back at your failures.

Don’t forget. Don’t forget. Do not forget.

Ferris’s tear-filled voice. Wilhelm’s lament, shaking with regrets. Julius’s resolve and remorse, so great he probably gnashes his teeth over it—Don’t forget, ever. No matter how low you are, don’t ever let go.

Is this Satella saying this to Subaru? I'd assume so since it ends with the "I love you" line Subaru's been getting before he RBDs. But if so, why is she saying this to him? One theory is that she has her own regrets from her life and is giving Subaru a chance not to have the same. That assumes she is a good person and that the stories around her are wrong. Another theory, given the Witch of Envy title, is that she's insisting Subaru never let go of what's his. It's his (and hers, since he is hers) and no one else can have it. I mean, that applies more to greed than envy, I suppose, but stretching a bit you could say she'd be jealous of a world moving on without her.

Original Reddit post: https://www.reddit.com/r/Re_Zero/comments/gwjfwy/novels_first_time_read_through_light_novel_vol_8/

#re:zero #random thoughts #reddit repost

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halo-jpeg · 4 years ago

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Bearable | A Reddie Fanfiction

Read it from the beginning

Chapter 3

Eddie stood looking at himself in the mirror. The sky outside of his window was darkening, on the brink of sunset right near 6:30 pm. He was dressed in what he considered his 'party clothes', or at least the closest thing he could find- he wore a brown plaid button-up tee with a darker brown v-neck sweater, finally finished off with a pair of khaki pants. It was nothing special, really, but it was probably the most, as Bill had put it, 'chillax' thing he currently owned. Living with his mother, Eddie had grown used to wearing what she bought him and only what she bought him, which only consisted of simple tees, polo shirts and, of course, his occasional button-up. The sweater he currently wore had been a gift from Stan for his 18th birthday- he has gotten a similar one for his 19th as wel.

"St-Stan? Eddie? Ruh-ready to go?" Bill's voice echoed through the house, snapping Eddie from the odd trance he'd fallen into, staring right into his own reflection. Right, of course- he had a party to go to.

"Coming!" He called, and was just about to turn and leave the room when his eye was caught by an object on the surface of his dresser- It was his inhaler. For a moment, Eddie stared, and felt as if it were calling to him. He hadn't used it for months until the fight with his mother, and already he had vowed not to use it again. He'd been trying to shake the habit of using it just as he had started faking swallowing his old placebos; sadly, however, the effects of his false-asthma still kicked in so hard he had to take a puff or two. Eddie's lungs felt tight with anxiety at the idea of this stupid party, and he only debated for one more moment before grabbing the inhaler and jamming it into his pocket, just in case. He was quick to join his two friends, and they both set off- umbrellas in tow- into the now-starting rain.

***

It had been approximately 10 seconds and Eddie was fighting back over stimulation. Shit, he hasn't even knocked on the apartment door yet, and the booming, thumping music with it's impossibly heavy base was already putting him on edge. Stan was close to his side, Bill just a few paces ahead, and though he was more than grateful for their comforting, familiar presence he was terrified. Eddie didn't know these people. He was walking into a strangers home. He'd seen horror movies, he knows what happens in big, crowded parties with alcohol and hormonal teens and what happens is they get slashed by a serial killer. Maybe it was just paranoia, but Eddie was already wishing he could turn tail and flee. Bill, Stan and he stopped in front of the door belonging to the source of the noise, and that anxiety in the pit of his stomach tripled, if that was even something that could happen at this point. Eddie tried his very best to suck in deep breaths, but they came in with a slight whistle and made his chest ache.

"Ready?" Stan said, quickly straightening out the collar of his navy dress shirt, passing a quick glance and a warm smile in Eddie's direction, "It'll be okay, Eddie, you can stick by our side the whole time." Eddie nodded his head, clasping his hands nervously together in front of him. Bill gripped the door handle, giving it a twist and pushing it wide open. Ah, yes- Eddie hates this, indeed.

"Oh, no..." The words were spoken mostly to himself, drowned out almost entirely by the speakers throbbing throughout the house. It was dark, the only illumination coming from colorful fairy lights strung high above everyone's heads. The place was packed with moving, dancing bodies, red solo cups held in the hands of nearly everyone. Eddie could see glow sticks wrapped around wrists and hanging from necks, and even spotted a woman in a too-short dress clashing lips with a man in a Letterman jacket. Before he really could give in a flee, a hand was set gently on his shoulder, and he turned his head to see Bill grinning down at him, his eyes alight with a mixture of excitement and concern. The question didn't need to be spoken for Eddie to know that Bill was nervous for him. With a simple shake of his head, Eddie dismissed his worries and motioned with one hand for the redhead to lead the way.

"Hey!" Before any of the three could move an all-too familiar voice rang through, slicing through the sounds of the party and calling all attention in that direction, "My dear friends, you made it!" Richie pushed past a few people on his route to the trio, his cheek-splitting grin even wider than usual and clearly under the slight influence of alcohol.

"Hey, Ruh-Richie! Thanks for inviting u-us, this is... a bigger puh-party then I've ever been to in my li-life!" Bill extended a hand for Richie to shake, and the host was quick to accept it with the one hand that wasn't harboring another one of those red cups. Eddie caught a glimpse of a dark liquid, along with the smell of booze and citrus.

"It sure is something," Stan agreed with a nod, and Richie gleamed with pride.

"Can I get you three some drinks? They may or may not be spiked. We also have, uh... grass, if that's any of your styles." Before Richie could be judged (Eddie was just about to scold him for drug use) he tacked on, "It's not my type of thing but I wouldn't mind if it was yours!" He started to laugh along with Bill, even Stan letting out a small chuckle, but Eddie was still hugely unimpressed with this all. Much to his demise, Stan the Polite had to go and agree to the drinks. Before he could protest, Richie was leading the way directly into the throng of people towards a kitchen. It was miserable. Dancers blocked the way to their desired destination, meaning the group had to push right through them. Not only was it impolite, but these teenagers were also drunk and disgusting. Eddie was trying so hard not to be so uptight, at least for one night, but he just couldn't do it. He pulled his arms into himself and braved the traverse, wincing as he began to attempt to weave through. He was pushed from all sides, sworn at by one rowdy man who he had accidentally bumped into and winked at by a drunken girl dancing with her friends. Though it was only momentary, it felt like centuries past where he was drowning among these bodies, afraid and struggling to breathe. Then, just like that, he was free on the other side, still right beside his two friends and the host who was bringing this treachery into his life.

"Quite the crowd," Eddie grumbled to Stan, both Richie and Bill failing to overhear. Stanley smiled and bumped Eddie gently with his elbow, yet again delivering a small form of reassurance. The kitchen was emptier than the rest of the house, but there were still a fair amount of party goers within it. Among them, Eddie recognized Mike leaned on the counter at the far end with two other kind-enough looking people- he also recognized these two from the coffee shop where they'd met Richie. A tall, sturdy man leaned against one wall, watching with obvious heart eyes as a redheaded girl seated on the counter chattered away about one thing or another. Right at their side sat a massive punch bowl, half empty but with plenty of other bottles of soda and alcohol around it to refill later if need be.

"Heya, you three," Richie greeted them with a smile and a wave, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of Stan, Bill and Eddie, "I'm sure you all remember these guys." Richie spun on his heel, leaning his back against the counter and beginning introductions, "This is Bill, Stan and Eddie; and this is Beverly, Ben a Mike. Shake hands, maybe share a kiss, and give me another damn cup of punch." Eddie did none of the above, even when Bill moved forwards to do the first option. He shook hands with each new person in turn, and said his courteous 'nice to meet you'. Even Stan spoke up with a greeting and a small wave. Sure, Eddie felt like an antisocial asshole but he was having enough trouble keeping his asthma in check without touching a bunch of strangers. Speaking of his asthma, yeah, sure, it wasn't real or whatever but right now it sure felt like it was.

"Care for a drink?" Beverly hopped down from the counter, motioning towards the stack of unused cups there for the taking.

"Y-Yeah, hell yeah," Bill responded with a smile, "What... whu-what is it?"

"It smells rank," Stan grabs a cup, leaning over and staring down into the bubbling liquid, "I'd love some."

"This, my good friends, is what I call my 'Tozier Juice'- Orange juice, ginger ale, and lots and lots of alcohol, courtesy of Haystack over here," Richie patted Ben on the shoulder, sending him a friendly grin that much resembled the ones that Eddie and his two best friends shared- it was that of a close bond built on top of years and years of memories.

"Th-that actually doesn't suh-sound too bad," Both Stan and Bill helped themselves to the drink, and then they turned to Eddie. Both seemed to know that he wouldn't be interested, but a cup was offered by Bill either way. "Sh-sure you don't want any? Not even just a glass?"

"Fuck no, I don't want to ruin my liver- or my heart, or brain or-" A sharp intake of breath, it hurts,"-pancreas, for that matter. Did you know drinking too much can increase your blood pressure? Have you ever heard of a stroke?" Eddie crossed his arms, the muscles in his shoulders tensing just at the thought of what this alcohol could do to him. He could drink too much, just a little too much, and then that would be it for him. He'd collapse to the floor and he'd die right here and now. "Plus, if my mom ever found out she would kill me, like literally-"

"Hey, calm yourself, Eduardo," Suddenly, Richie's arm is sliding over his shoulders, pulling him close, too close, to that mass of tangled dark hair that could possibly be housing every louse on the planet, "This is a party, you don't have to follow mamma's rules!" Eddie shoved himself away with a grimace, his lungs closing tighter in on themselves. The contact was too close, Richie was too strange, and now Eddie was only growing more and more frightened and uncomfortable.

"Don't touch me, Richie! Jesus, that's-" Eddie shudders, his breath catching in his throat. He can feel anxiety building in his throat, climbing upwards and begging to be let out in a scream or something of the sort. Eddie hugged himself tightly, scrambling away from Richie and closer to Stan and Bill.

"Wow, Jesus, I-" Richie laughed nervously, and Eddie watched him exchange a curious glance with Stan, who only waved a hand dismissively. "Sorry, I, uh... I guess. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything." Without returning an answer, Eddie glued his gaze to the floor, feeling heat rise up his neck and into his cheeks. Now, tension hung in the air like a shroud and it was because of him. Shit. He didn't mean to ruin everything. For a minute, and then two then three then a whole fourth, no one spoke, simply sipping at their drinks and listening to the deafening music. With each second that ticked by Eddie's throat closed tighter.

"So," Beverly broke the absence of speaking first, her voice raised to overpower that music that was still so loud, so fucking loud, throat tight, head pounding, "Tell me about yourselves. Rich tells me you're going to the same Uni as us? What classes do you have?" Bill took a sip from his 'Tozier Juice', and then responded in a voice just as loud as hers- he was too loud, now, too. His words begin to blend together into a collective hum, nothing but an indecipherable murmur as Eddie held himself tighter- he could hardly breathe, oh it hurt- The weight in his pocket was tempting, so tempting, and he wanted nothing more than to pull it out and take a puff, even if it was just sugar and water. The only thing stopping him was Stan and Bill on his either side, because they were against the placebo, they were trying to wean him off of it. Overpowering that murmur now was a sharp ringing, only pierced by the sound of collective laughter, too loud, suffocating. Eddie's face drained of it's colour, and no one seemed to notice. Can't breathe. He felt frozen, all of a sudden, rooted in place as if left in the cold for too long. He couldn't move his arms, his legs, and now his throat was growing tighter. He snapped his mouth open, fighting to suck in a breath- all at once, the sound came rushing back and it was all just too overwhelming. Eddie was gasping, fighting, snapping from his trance as all air fails to rush into his lungs. All eyes turn to him, Bill, Stan, Richie, Ben, Beverly, Mike- everyone is staring at him, looking at him, as he stumbles to the counter, his legs threatening to give out, Ben hurrying out of the way as Eddie almost falls right into him. The asthma attack was so sudden, so powerful- he had reached that tipping point, and gone tumbling right over the edge. Now, his throat was swollen shut, his head was pounding, that ringing was loud and the music was louder.

"Sh-shit, Eddie!" Bill was the first one to arrive at his side, and then everyone else. Every fucking person was surrounding him. He clutched onto the counter, still gasping, face paler than a sheet as he desperately fought against his reflexes. One powerful half of his mind screamed GRAB YOUR FUCKING INHALER EDDIE GRAB IT OR YOU'LL DIE YOU'LL SUFFOCATE RIGHT HERE AND- while the other half was shouting not to because then he was failing and when you fail you disappoint and he doesn't want to be any more of a disappointment than he already is. He gasps, sputters, grits his teeth and fights to reopen his throat but it won't cooperate. Strangers gazes bear into his back. He's the center of attention. His throat his shut like a vice.

"Eddie, hey, you okay?" Stan was there, a hand on his shoulder but that was too much, this was all too much and he didn't know what to do to stop it to stop the pain and the fear and the suffocation and he can't breathe.

"Hey hey hey hey, what's happening Eds? What's wrong, what can I do?" Richie was here now too, stupid annoying Richie with his caring tone and the hand he sets on Eddie's. Just like the too-loud laughter had been what sent him over the metaphorical cliff edge towards an asthma attack, this overload of contact had been him hitting the icy waters below. Without a second thought he burst upright, both Stan and Richie falling away, and ripped his inhaler from his pocket. He pulled off the cap and stuck it between his lips, pressing the button on the top and sucking in the breath with a sudden jolt. Air passed, a minute amount, and he needed another puff, and then, finally, a third. Each one rocked through his body, trailing with it relief, euphoria, burning through his veins, his throat, down into his lungs until- he let out a gasp as the inhaler left his mouth and felt the guilt rapidly push the good feelings away. The entire group had gone silent again, until Bill stepped forwards to place a hand on Eddie's arm.

"A-Are you okay now, Eddie? Did it help?" His tone probably wasn't meant to be condescending, but that was the only emotion Eddie could get from it. No, Bill, I'm not okay and I'll never be okay because my mom fucked me up big time, Bill, is what he wanted to say but he didn't get the chance because now Stan was on his other side with that sickly sweet concern that Eddie doesn't really deserve and they probably don't really mean.

"Can I get you water? Anything?" Eddie was quick to shake his head. Stan sucked in a slow breath, and let it out in a shudder. From his peripherals, Eddie caught the sight of him and Bill sharing a glance. He didn't miss the way Stan's lips quirked down into a frown, or the feeling of Bill just slightly shrugging one shoulder. He hadn't even been here for twenty minutes and Eddie was done. They were disappointed in him. He could sense it. Jamming his inhaler back into his pocket, he shook off both hands and set off to who knows where. He didn't know this apartment and he didn't give a shit. He needed to find a bathroom, a bedroom, a balcony, a something to get him as far away from the noise as possible. He hears them calling after him, Bill and Stan and maybe Richie too but the music swallows him whole as he pushes into the crowd towards what he thinks is a door to outside. He pushes, uncaring in it's entirety, needing to get out, away, to suck in the fresh air. His lungs feel tight again, but not as tight as before and he refuses to use his inhaler. He breaks free from the crowd and lets out a wheeze of a huff, falling into the door and shoving it open and closed as quick as possible.

Just like that, it is calm. With one shoulder against the glass he can feel the reverberation, the bass shaking the building in it's place. It's quieter now, faint enough that he can feel thoughts swimming around like panicked fish. Eddie pushes off of the door and staggers towards the railing, letting himself lean on it despite what his mother would say. You're so high up, Eddie-bear, don't lean like that or you'll fall! You'll tumble right down all six floors and then you'll be done for! The mother in his mind continued on about something else, about him not loving her enough to take care of himself, about why does he hate her? What did she do for him to treat her like this? But he pushes those thoughts away and locks them in a tight little box so he doesn't burst into tears. For the first time he realizes that the rain is heavier now, pouring down in steady, thrumming sheets, blotting out the streetlights below and further muffling that music. The smell of petrichor and lightning fell around him, probing in through his open mouth and cleansing his lungs of the placebo. It was soothing, so much so that his eyes fell shut and his head tipped back. He let the utter pleasure of the weather soak into his skin, the chill biting at the tips of his nose and ears. He could catch a cold, his mother warns from inside his head, but he locks those thoughts up even tighter and tells himself he doesn't give a shit. With each deep, rain-tasting breath his lungs give way a little more until it's clear again. A few minutes pass of deep breathing, exercises he's learned through the years. Calm washes over him and now he doesn't mind the distant heartbeat of the bass. Time seeps by slowly and he doesn't mind it.

Behind him, the door opens, and the tension sets in again.

"What do you want?" Eddie's voice is cold. He doesn't know who it is, assuming it's Bill or Stan and hating that he's not right. The music grows louder and then fades again as the door opens and shuts.

"Hey, Eds," Richie shatters his peace with a tentative tone, and then he's there at his side leaning against the railing.

"Don't call me that."

"I, uh... I wanted to say sorry." The rain thrums on. Richie stands at his side. Eddie hates this party. "I... I didn't know..." Richie struggles to find the right words. The rain sounds like static, buzzing, hissing, calming. Richie should leave Eddie to enjoy this peace but he doesn't. "I didn't mean for this to happen." A heartbeat passes in time with the bass. Eddie finally answers, his words quiet, clipped, cold.

"Get lost, Richie." Richie doesn't. Instead, his movements slow, careful, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out two things- a packet of cigarettes, and a lighter. He doesn't waste his time offering one to Eddie, simply lights one for himself and takes a deep, sluggish inhale. All is quiet except for the static and the heartbeat of the bass. With an unwanted wave of vulnerability, Eddie feels his eyes begin to sting. The ocean inside of his stomach, tossing and turning and churning is made of liquid guilt. He feels horrible for failing Stan, for failing Bill, for ruining the party they'd both been so excited for. Richie takes another drag, letting out a cloud of smoke that's ripped away, sent spiraling, by the beating rain. As the party rages on just feet away, Richie stays with Eddie instead of leaving him to join back in on the fun. Eddie hates that he feels gratitude. Minutes pass, and the rain washes away the last traces of warmth. Before he knows it, Eddie is shivering, a gentle tremble that might have less to do with the cold and more to do with how exhausting it is to withhold his stinging tears.

"Here," Richie slides one arm out of his black button-up, passes his cigarette to his now free hand, and then liberates the other. Without asking, he moves towards Eddie, placing the thin fabric around his shoulders to provide as much warmth as possible. Richie returns to his place from before. A few more moments pass when Eddie finally finds the stability to answer.

"Thank you." His cheeks glow pink in the pale, black light, but Richie smiles anyways and simply nods his head. With his lungs clear and that warm gratitude calming the tidal waves of regret, he speaks in a low, quiet, shaking tone. "It seems you can keep your mouth shut, hmm?" This time, Richie laughs, a light chuckle that blends with the bass and the static in a perfect way.

"I'm making a special exception, Eddie. Don't take it for granted." Richie bites on his cigarette. He lets out another cloud of smoke. The rain slices it apart. "But, hey," Leaning on one elbow and glancing Eddie's way through his thick-framed glasses, Richie looks almost nice, "I really am sorry. If I'd known you would been stressed or over stimulated or whatever, I would have warned you." Sucking in a slow breath and letting it out in a sigh, Eddie shrugs his shoulders, pulling the black button-down tighter around him.

"It's fine. I should have handled it better.- I'm the one who should be saying sorry" At that, Richie quirked a brow.

"It's asthma, you can't really control it- unless that's some sort of super power." As an after thought, Richie added, "Pretty lame one if you ask me." Eddie held a hand out into the rain, soaking in the biting cold of each drop. It streamed down his hands, off of his fingertips.

"No, it's... it's all bullshit. Nevermind." A heartbeat passes, "You shouldn't smoke. It risks lung cancer." Silence yet again. Richie didn't ask to leave, and didn't make any move to. Once he finished his cigarette he dropped it to the ground beside him and crushed it under his heel. The two simply stood, side by side with a few feet between, looking out into the rain and soaking in the peace. The party continued on behind him, but Eddie couldn't care less. While Stan and Bill were enjoying themselves, so was he, to a degree. Richie's normally overbearing aura had calmed, dulled, softening around the edges so now it wasn't as much a bright yellow as it was a soft red.

"Eds?" Richie asked in a questioning tone, not shattering the fragile silence but rather parting it like hanging vines, "Can I make you a deal?" Eddie nodded his head. "Come by and buy coffee every once and a while and this whole ordeal is forgotten, no hard feelings. I'll make you my signature drinks on the house to apologize to you, and you come by and chat with me every few days to apologize to me." Letting out another sigh, Eddie said,

"Yeah, fine."

"And don't call me Eds."

#reddie #reddie fanfiction #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #bill denbrough #ben hanscom #stan uris #stanley uris #beverly marsh #mike hanlon #the losers club #it 2017 #it 2019 #it chapter 1 #it chapter 2 #it movie

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visander · 4 years ago

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Bones in the Ocean | Ao3.

This is part of the @sh-rare-pair-exchange and is a gift for @jesssssah. I hope you like it! This is also my ‘fairytale AU’ bingo square for @shadowhunterbingo.

There was one simple fact about Jace’s life. He could not live without Alec. So, when Alec was taken out into the ocean never to break the surface again, Jace knew that he had to follow him, no matter what it took to do so.

Malace, vague warnings for injuries and drowning.

Alec had been gone for about a month before Jace finally broke. For a month, Jace managed to pretend that everything was okay. He managed to close himself off, force down all his emotions, go to work everyday and be a shadowhunter, not Jace, not the man who used to be Alec’s parabatai, not a man who was missing half his heart but a shadowhunter. He was just a shadowhunter and he managed to keep that up for a month before all at once, he snapped.

All at once, he wasn’t a shadowhunter anymore. He wasn’t even Jonathan Herondale - greatest shadowhunter of their generation. He was Jace, a twelve year old boy who’d come to the Institute as an orphan, a boy who’d found solace in Alec, a boy who needed his parabatai back, no matter what the cost.

Jace knew then that he needed to get Alec back. He needed to see him again and he needed to make sure that nothing could ever separate them again. Now, he didn’t know how he could do that but he knew that he’d be willing to do anything to make it happen.

Jace dug up anything he could find of the fae. Anything that shed light on the elusive class of them that preferred to hide in the depths of the water, away from human civilization and fae civilization alike. They were the one class of fae that had their own government entirely separate from the Seelie Queen. Her influence couldn’t quite reach them under the water and apparently, they preferred it that way anyway.

This also meant that information on them was hard to come by. They rarely surfaced at all. They wrote no books Jace could read. They weren’t very forthcoming about any information regarding them whatsoever but what Jace did know from personal experience was that they could turn people, much like a vampire or werewolves could, though their ritual relied on magic rather than saliva or venom. Those who were turned weren’t as powerful as those born to the water nymph. They didn’t inherit the magic the others were born with. Turning was also very rare, hard to do and dangerous for everyone involved.

Jace didn’t manage to find out much else but that simple information was enough for Jace to wonder. Was Alec even still alive? Had he survived the transformation? If he had, what was his life like now, being so powerless compared to his new peers? Did he know how to survive by himself? Was Magnus helping him? Had the vicious nymph slaughtered him, regardless of what Magnus had promised Jace? Had Alec even survived a week?

Other things Jace thought about too. What did Alec look like now? Would Jace even recognize him? Did he look like the water nymph in the sketches Jace had found? With huge dark eyes, clawed hands and those sharp teeth that gave Jace nightmares, though he would not admit it. Did he look half as viscous as the sketches did? Did he really look like that much of a monster now?

That was all of course, if Alec had even survived the transformation. If he hadn’t, then none of those concerns were valid at all. He’d simply died in the water, probably in pain with no one who cared about him there to comfort him before he went but Jace tried to push that thought away. He had to believe Alec had survived. If he was proven wrong, Jace didn’t even know what he’d do.

If Alec had died, Jace didn’t imagine that things would ever be okay again. So, he couldn’t be dead. He simply couldn’t be but that belief didn’t help Jace when he had no clue what to do next. He needed to contact him or he needed to contact Magnus and unfortunately for Jace, he had absolutely no clue how to do that.

Asking around about the water nymph was not easy. Downworlders didn’t like shadowhunters and even if they knew something, few of them would be willing to share downworld secrets with him, especially about a species as elusive and powerful as the water nymph were. They rarely got involved in above water debacles but Jace did know there were rumors about their armies and their strength, so no one really wanted to anger them.

Jace didn’t even know if that was true. He didn’t know if they really had armies at all. He knew so little and no one at all seemed willing to help him fix that or they also knew nothing, which was almost worse. If no one knew anything, that meant there was no way Jace could get any information. That meant that he had no clue what to do and he had no plan and he had no way to even find out if Alec was alive at all.

Jace just needed to talk to him. He needed to know if Alec was okay. He couldn’t think about anything else until he did.

Jace finally got a lead a few days later. There was a faerie who apparently had close connections to the water nymph. Tracking him down was a hassle in and of itself but Jace finally found himself standing in the woods in some isolated park, weaponless as requested, feeling as if he was walking into a trap and finding it a little hard to care. He needed to find Alec. Even if he knew this was a trap, what else could he do but come and try?

Jace was jittery, looking around at every noise, waiting to have seelie weapons drawn against his throat but that didn't happen. When the faerie finally arrived, Jace looked up and simply found him standing there a few feet away. He was wearing armor with a blade across his side, looking ethereal and deadly all at once.

Jace, with his plain clothes and empty hands, felt entirely underdressed and under prepared but Jace supposed that was the point.

“Shadowhunter,” Meliorn cooed. “I hear you’re asking around about the water nymph.”

Jace took a deep breath in. “Yes, my parabatai-”

“Alexander,” Meliorn cut him off. “I’m aware of what happened with your parabatai.”

Jace didn’t ask how he knew. Word got around, he supposed but if Meliorn knew about Alec it had to mean he knew someone who had contact with him. Word had gotten from the water out somehow and Jace needed to know how.

“I need to know if he’s okay.” Meliorn’s eyes flickered up and then down Jace, frowning. “I heard you’d like to know a bit more than that. I heard you want to know how to do it.”

“It?” Jace murmured, knowing what Meliorn meant but asking anyway.

“You’d like to join him.” Meliorn said evenly. “It’s rare for a shadowhunter to be willing to undergo such a transformation. Are you sure you’d like to do it?”

“No, I’m not.” Jace snapped, his eyes flickering away. “I just… I need to know if Alec is alright and after that-” “You’ll decide if you can live without him or if you’d rather be cursed, like he is?”

Jace’s gaze sharpened into a glare. “Alec isn’t cursed.”

“He might disagree,” Meliorn murmured. “He’s alive. He survived the transformation. Magnus has been caring for him. I hear he’s grown quite fond of him.”

Instantly, Jace’s eyes snapped up. “You’ve heard from him?”

“I’ve heard from Magnus. He also told me that you should move on. He said Alec is safe and he’s adjusting and that you should adjust as well.” Meliorn stared at him for another moment longer before he kept speaking, “He’s not part of your world anymore, Jace. Trying to contact him would only make it harder for you both.”

“Alec is my parabatai.” Jace snapped. “I can’t live without him. I don’t know how.”

“And yet, you have to.”

Jace tightened his jaw in his mouth. “You won’t help me?” He asked finally.

“I think I already have. If you’re asking if I’ll help you contact him again, the answer is no.”

“Great,” Jace snapped bitterly, already turning to leave. Jace made it nearly twenty feet before he heard Meliorn call out to him, making him stop in his tracks.

“If you really want to do it, find Ragnor Fell. He’s Magnus’ oldest friend and one of the only people above water that he keeps in contact with.”

Jace spun around instantly, scanning Meliorn’s face as if to see if he was lying but Faeries couldn’t lie, could they? “Thank you,” he said finally, breathless in his disbelief.

Meliorn pressed his lips. “Don’t thank me. He probably won’t even talk to you.” Meliorn turned away before Jace could say another word.

Jace watched him leave, struggling to comprehend the fact that he had an actual clue. Alec was okay, Jace thought, repeating it to himself until the words sunk in. Alec was okay. He hadn’t died. He was alive somewhere and for now, Jace’s life was not over and thanks to Meliorn, he even had a lead.

Ragnor Fell. Jace had heard of the warlock before. He couldn’t be that hard to track down. If Jace was lucky, his address would be in the Clave’s files and it would be as easy as that to find him.

Jace, as it turns out, was not lucky. Ragnor Fell was in the Clave’s files, listed as one of the most powerful warlocks the Clave had ever worked with. His last known residency was a loft in London, one that had been long abandoned. He had no known address on file, only a small annotation that read ‘seen last in New York- 1997.’ There was a little blurb about him owning a club in New York but that wasn’t as helpful as knowing where the warlock lived.

Jace had to hold back a sigh as he read it and then searched through the system again, hoping maybe there was more information filed under something else that would help him. There wasn’t.

Jace finally spun away from the monitor, jumping as he came face to face Isabelle, who had clearly seen what he’d been searching for. “Ragnor Fell?” She demanded. “What the hell do you want with such a powerful warlock?”

Jace froze for a moment, not even able to come up with an excuse. “It’s nothing,” he said before he was pushing past her.

“Nothing?” She echoed, darting after him. “Jace, I know you’re looking for Alec,” She snapped when Jace refused to slow down.

“No, I’m not,” Jace said simply.

Isabelle reached out and grabbed his arm, forcing him to a halt. “Yes, you are. You’ve been asking everyone how to get a hold of Magnus. You didn’t think I'd hear?”

Jace turned to her, frowning. “So, what if I am?” He said at last.

“So what?” She snapped, appalled. “Jace we were told not to contact him. It was part of the deal. They don't like shadowhunters. You could be putting him in danger.”

It had been part of the deal. Magnus had told them that if he took Alec, he didn’t want any other shadowhunters bothering him again but how could Jace just move on? “I don’t think I am putting him in danger,” Jace said finally.

“What do you mean?” Isabelle asked cautiously.

“Magnus has been taking care of Alec. He likes him. He’s grown fond of him. Magnus isn’t going to hurt Alec.” Jace turned away from her, heading down the hallway towards the supply room.

After a second, Isabelle darted after him. “Ragnor?” She questioned simply.

“He’s Magnus’ oldest friend. He’s the only one Magnus keeps in contact with up here,” Jace explained as he walked into the room, darting over instantly to the weapon’s rack, where he snatched up a blade and started to head towards the door.

“Where are you going?” Isabelle asked behind him.

Jace paused for a moment, turning back to look at her. “Ragnor used to own this club downtown. He hasn’t been seen there in years but someone might know where he is.”

Isabelle hesitated for a second before she grabbed her own weapon off the shelf. “Fine, I’m coming with you,” She said, heading past him and starting to go out the door without another word.

“Are you sure?” Jace asked, as he followed her outside. “It’s not only going against what Magnus said,” Jace reminded her. “It’s going against Clave orders.”

“I’m sure, Jace,” she said and Jace could do nothing but nod in response. Secretly, he was a little relieved to not be going alone. He was so used to doing everything with Alec. Having to do everything alone was one of the hardest parts of him being gone.

He was used to being two parts of a whole and now, it was just him, trying to find his other half again.

The pandemonium was as full as Jace imagined it always was on a Friday night, being that it was the most popular downworlder club in New York. Jace made his way through the people towards the bar after splitting up with Izzy, both of them agreeing to do what they do best - flirt and try to find information. Though, normally on a mission like this, Alec would be there watching from somewhere, waiting to jump in if they encountered trouble.

It made his absence all the more obvious, not as if Jace had been able to think of anything else since Alec had been gone. Jace settled at the bar, ordered a drink to look casual and then started smiling at people, flirting, dropping Ragnor’s name when he thought he could without raising any red flags but if anyone did know how to contact Ragnor, no one was very forthcoming.

On the outside, Jace knew he looked at ease. He knew it looked like his attention was on everyone around him but in reality, Jace’s mind was only on one person and he was reliving one thing in his head, no matter how much he tried to push it away and focus on the task at hand.

He was thinking about Alec. He was thinking about what had happened to him. He was thinking about what Meliorn had said about his parabatai being cursed and he was thinking about that awful day that they’d lost him, the last day Jace had seen him.

It had been a simple mission, a deceptively simple mission. They’d been trying to chase down a couple of Shax Demons that had popped up on their sensors. It had been a little odd how the demons had clustered in the same area and showed up at the exact same time but they didn’t really question it before they set out to find them. Either way, they needed to kill the demons.

They’d found themselves in a graveyard, a small one Jace had never been to before despite living in this city for most of his life. One of the demons had popped out. Alec had taken it down with one arrow and that was supposed to be how the rest of the mission went. Simple. Easy. Kill them and get out but when they finally made their way towards the back of the cemetery, they’d seen something they were entirely unprepared for.

They’d seen a rift and without a warlock present, they had no way to close it. They could only fight the demons that kept spilling out. Izzy called the Institute. Alec and Jace kept fighting, trying to hold them back until enforcements got there and hopefully, a warlock as well but then, the unthinkable had happened.

A demon had dived at Alec and Alec, with his attention on a demon that was going towards Jace, hadn’t noticed. The demon had tackled him and before Jace could even blink, Alec had disappeared with the demon into the rift.

A warlock finally came. They closed the rift. Jace raced back to the Institute, clutching his parabatai rune. He could tell Alec was alive still but he was so hurt and they had no clue where he was. The Institute finally got the call that Alec had popped out of a rift that had opened on the sea coast. Alec, already injured from the demon attack, had fallen nearly twenty feet before he’d hit the sand.

Jace wasn’t quite sure what happened after that. He wasn’t there and he couldn’t convince a warlock to open a portal for him on such short notice. Magnus Bane had been there, somehow. He’d come to check out the rift so close to his ocean and he’d seen Alec, a crumpled bloodied mess on the ground.

All of Alec’s bones had been broken. Even with all the help the Institute could get him, Alec would not survive and then, something Jace still didn’t understand happened. Magnus offered to take Alec. He offered to change him and either Alec would die during the transformation or he would become one of them, stronger with Magnus’ magic, healthier, more vicious, never to leave the ocean again, never to again be human or nephilim, never to speak to Jace or any of them again.

It was part of the rules when things like that happened. If a nephilim became a vampire, they were not to talk to them again. If a nephilim became one of them, well the same rules applied along with the fact that the water nymph did not like them, would not tolerate communication between them and lived in the ocean, so far disconnected from modern forms of communication like the cell phone.

Magnus had offered to turn Alec only if he would not have to deal with any other shadowhunters again. He made it clear Alec would not be worth his effort, if he was going to be cursed having to deal with nephilim for the rest of his life. If any of them contacted him about Alec again, Magnus would simply kill him and move on.

But how was Jace supposed to do that? How could he possibly move on and leave Alec behind, especially now that he knew Alec was alive? Besides, Jace was kind of banking on what Meliorn had said. Magnus was fond of Alec. He was protecting him and keeping him safe. Surely, he wouldn’t kill him just because Jace tried to contact him, right?

Jace was jolted out of his thoughts when someone stepped in front of him. It was a warlock, Jace recognized instantly. The warlock had horns and skin that could have been off colored but Jace couldn’t tell in the flashing colored lights of the club. Finally, the lights flashed white for a moment and Jace could see the emerald green skin.

“I hear you’re walking around my club bothering all my patrons to try and find me,” Ragnor posed, looking exceptionally unimpressed. “Find your sister and follow me. I’ll give you five minutes if it will make you never contact me again.”

Before Jace could say anything, Ragnor turned and was heading towards a room in the back of the club.

“What do you want?” Ragnor snapped, sounding as if he was already reaching his limit with the situation at hand.

Jace started speaking instantly. He wasn't going to push his luck with pleasantries.“I need to contact Magnus Bane. I hear you know how.” Ragnor eyed him, not looking any more impressed with Jace’s explanation. After a second Jace kept speaking, “My parabatai, he-”

“I know who your parabatai is.” Ragnor said before sighing, turning away from them both to head towards a drink cart Jace saw in the corner.

“I need to talk to him,” Jace insisted.

Ragnor peered at him, pouring a drink without looking at it. “Magnus told all of you not to contact him.”

“I know but-”

“What do you want Magnus to do anyway?” Ragnor continued. “You know your parabatai survived. What, do you just want to meet up and have a chit chat about life? There’s no reason for you to have to contact Magnus. Your parabatai is in a different world now. You knew that when you agreed to have him changed. Trying to contact him isn’t going to do anything but make it harder for you both.”

At that, Jace hesitated and after a moment, Ragnor’s eyes widened just a fraction. “Magnus isn’t going to change you too.” He snapped, sounding shocked Jace would even consider it.

Next to him, Isabelle finally seemed to find her voice. “He doesn’t want to be changed,” she said confidently before turning to Jace and seeing just how unconfident he looked.

“Why wouldn’t he?” Jace asked quietly, ignoring what Isabelle said all together. “He was willing to do it for Alec.”

“Jace-” Isabelle snapped, looking horrified. Jace ignored her and kept his eyes fixed on Ragnor.

“Yes well, Magnus has a soft heart for shadowhunters who are bleeding out on his beach. You are decidedly not bleeding out and you don’t know what you’re asking for anyway. It’s a painful transformation, one you probably wouldn’t survive, one your parabatai almost didn’t.” Ragnor stared at him for another moment before he sighed, placing his drink down. “It must be… hard losing him-” Ragnor said, sounding as if he was trying to find a single sympathetic bone in his body and struggling. “But Magnus isn’t just going to change you because you’d like it. That’s exactly why he hesitated in doing it to Alec- he didn’t want all of you bothering him.”

“I’d just like to talk to Magnus once.” Jace murmured softly. “If he tells me no, I’ll move on,” Jace said, only half meaning it. There was no moving on from Alec but if Magnus did say no, what other choice would he have?

“I’ll ask him and I’ll let you know.” Ragnor said at last, “But I wouldn’t expect an answer other than no.” Ragnor waved his hands towards them both. “Get out of my club before I change my mind and don’t ask at all.”

Jace hesitated for a brief moment before Isabelle reached out and grabbed his hand, starting to gently pull him towards the door. It was only outside in the cold crisp air that Isabelle spoke again. “You can’t really want to join him, Jace?” She asked softly.

For a moment, Jace kept walking, ignoring her. At last, he snapped, “Of course, I do. He’s my parabatai, Izzy. ‘For whither thou goest, I shall go’ and he had just-” Jace broke off with a shaky breath.

“He had just told you that he was in love with you,” Isabelle finished softly. “He told me.”

Jace stopped in his tracks, his hands clenched into fists at his side. “I didn’t react right. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t tell him that I loved him too and now, he’s gone.”

Isabelle sighed softly. “That’s a big choice, Jace. You’d be leaving everything you’ve ever known behind.”

“Except Alec.”

They stared at each other for a moment before they both started walking again, in silence.

Ragnor’s answer came the next day in the form of a short fire message. “He said yes. He’ll meet you at the dock near the Los Angeles Institute at midnight tonight. If you’re late, he will not see you again.”

Isabelle said she’d come with him, though Jace tried to convince her otherwise. Magnus was centuries old. He had a greater demon’s blood and he was one of the most powerful beings the Clave had on record. If Magnus did not like them, this could go bad very easily but Isabelle insisted she’d come. This was about Alec. Of course, she’d come. Besides, she told Jace if he ended up not coming back, she wanted to be there to say goodbye.

How could Jace argue with that?

The meeting spot Bane had requested was isolated enough to make it a hassle to get to without a portal but at last, they managed to find the right spot. It was an isolated dock that Jace wouldn’t quite describe as close to the Los Angeles Institute. It was more vaguely near, if you considered a couple miles of nothing as near.

Regardless, they made it there only a little late. Ragnor’s words about not being late rang through Jace’s head but Magnus wouldn’t really leave because they were a few minutes late, would he? They walked out onto the dock and both of them, even with their most important runes lit, almost missed the fact that there was a man standing on the dock, looking out at the ocean, as still as if he’d been a statue.

They both froze a couple of yards away. Isabelle’s hand snapped to her whip. Jace reached for his blade but didn’t pull it out yet. For a moment, it almost seemed as if the man hadn’t heard them and them, he turned and peered across them both only looking mildly interested.

Jace knew at once that this was Magnus Bane. It could be no one else. His cat eyes cut through the darkness sending a chill down Jace’s spine. The man was nearly naked and not seeming to find that fact disturbing one bit. For a moment, Jace was thankful he could only just make out the shape of Bane’s body. He couldn’t get distracted. Not now. This was about Alec.

“Bane,” Jace called, knowing it was him but needing some kind of confirmation. Bane was a water nymph and yet, he stood here, his body more human than not, his scales mostly gone, his fingers twisted, humanish in the light and his legs.

Jace had heard rumors that the sons of greater demons could do what the rest of the water nymph could not - they could shift and move to walk among the humans but Jace had always assumed it was rumor. Apparently, he’d been mistaken.

“Lightwoods,” Bane called over, sounding unimpressed with them already. “You’re late.”

“We had a hard time finding you-” Jace started but Magnus waved him off before he could keep going. Jace fell silent instantly and that seemed to make Magnus smirk in the darkness.

“Oh, you’re obedient. What a pleasant surprise.”

Jace stayed silent and he wasn’t even sure why. Magnus had told him to be quiet, more or less, and he wasn’t going to speak and mess up whatever chance he had at seeing Alec again. Jace told himself that was the only reason why but in the back of his head, he knew it was something else too.

Magnus was commanding. He held himself with such confidence that even Jace paled in comparison to. It was hard to not want to listen to him, that and the fact that he was unnerving, scary in the way that monsters who appeared human were.

Magnus’ eyes flickered to Isabelle at last. “You can go,” he stated simply.

Instantly, Isabelle started to protest. “I’m not leaving him here alone.”

Magnus’ eyes flickered to Jace and then back to Isabelle once more. “I wasn’t asking,” He said mildly. “You can see him again when we’re done talking. I’d like to speak to him in private.” Isabelle opened her mouth to protest again but Magnus raised a finger, silencing her. “Or, I can just leave,” He threatened.

“Go, Izzy,” Jace said without looking over.

They stood for a tense moment before Izzy finally turned and started walking off the dock, leaving Jace and Magnus completely alone. Jace was happy that Isabelle left without a fight. He knew she didn’t want to leave him. Truthfully, being alone with someone as powerful as Magnus made Jace nervous but it was better than Magnus leaving and Jace having no chance of seeing Alec ever again.

Magnus eyed Jace for a moment before he turned to face the ocean like he had been when they’d first walked up. “Come,” he murmured softly.

For a moment, Jace was surprised Magnus would turn his back on someone who stood there armed but that also meant Magnus knew he had nothing to worry about. Jace wouldn’t be able to hurt him and besides, Magnus had Alec. Jace wouldn’t hurt him, even if he could.

Jace eased his hand off his weapon and walked forward, until he stood a few feet away from Magnus, his body tense all over. Magnus was completely naked, Jace could see this close. He put his eyes pointedly forward, watching the waves crash out on the dark ocean.

“You’re human,” Jace said finally, unable to stop himself from saying it.

“No,” Magnus murmured. “I’m not. I just look it.”

“Could Alec-”

“No,” Magnus said simply before the hope could grow in Jace’s voice. “He couldn’t. The transformation is permanent. He isn’t like me.”

“Oh,” Jace whispered, unable to keep the disappointment out of his voice. If Alec could look human again, that could change everything. Jace could come here and they could visit. Alec could talk to him. Alec could walk up on the beach and tell Jace all about what he’d been doing recently but that was just a fantasy. Alec was stuck, with literally an ocean keeping them apart.

“Why did you want to meet me, after I explicitly told you not to contact me?” Magnus spoke mildly but there was a twist in his words that reminded Jace he’d already disobeyed him by asking him to come here at all and yet, Magus had come to meet him.

“Meliorn told me you were fond of Alec. I was hoping you wouldn’t really hurt him.”

“That’s not a reason. That’s a justification.” Magnus turned to look at him and Jace found that his eyes were almost hypnotizing this close. “Why did you want to talk to me?”

Jace swallowed, his throat suddenly incredibly tight. He thought about telling him he wanted to ask how Alec was. He thought about telling him that he needed to know that Alec was okay. He thought about asking him to tell Alec that he loved him and that he was sorry he ever hesitated in saying it back.

That was all true but that wasn’t really what Jace was hoping to get out of this. “I want you to take me too.” Jace said, something pleading breaking out in his voice. “I want to be with Alec. I can’t live without him. I want to come too.”

The moment Jace said it, Magnus’ entire face softened. He stared at Jace and in the pale moonlight, he almost looked sorry for him. “Ragnor told me you wanted to do it but I didn’t believe him. Most shadowhunters would choose death over a life in the ocean.”

“I’d choose a life in the ocean over living without Alec,” Jace said and there wasn’t even a flicker of hesitation. He even surprised himself with how sure of it he was. He hadn’t wanted to admit it to Meliorn. He hadn’t wanted to admit it to Ragnor or Izzy but it was true. He wasn’t just thinking about it. He didn’t just want to make sure Alec was okay. He wanted to go with him more than anything. He needed to go with him.

For a beat, Magnus eyed him as if fully taking him in for the first time. Finally, he looked back up to Jace’s face and though nothing in his expression had changed, Jace got the impression he was pleased. “You’re lucky you’re cute and not as incredibly annoying as you seemed when you were asking about me to anyone who would listen.”

Jace didn’t know how he knew he’d been asking around about him, nor did he ask. He didn’t want to risk suddenly appearing annoying and having Magnus change his mind. “So, you’ll do it?” Jace asked, half in disbelief.

Magnus raised an eyebrow, “You do realize there’s a great chance you won’t survive. I’m surprised your parabatai did. I had to do a lot to keep him alive. The chances of both of you managing to survive is slim.”

Jace nodded. “I know.”

For a moment, Magnus kept eyeing him, as if he was waiting to see any hesitation, any glimmer that showed Jace did not want to do this. Instead, he saw nothing. Magnus turned back towards the ocean, letting out a soft sigh.

“Go say goodbye then,” Magnus said.

Jace turned and started walking down the dock towards Isabelle before Magnus changed his mind completely.

Jace had almost expected Isabelle to try to talk him out of it but she didn’t. They’d both come here knowing that if Jace was given the chance to join Alec, he would. He loved Alec more than anyone in the entire world and if Alec was somewhere, Jace had to go with him. The fact that Isabelle had ever been surprised he’d wanted that was shocking in and of itself.

Isabelle didn’t try to talk him out of it. She didn’t even comment. She just hugged him tight for a moment and then, she let him go. They both knew they wouldn’t see each other again. The ocean was vast and after Jace changed, if he even survived, they would speak entirely different languages. Jace was leaving her behind here but Alec had already left them and Jace had always been Alec’s anyway.

“I love you,” he murmured as he let go.

She nodded, looking as if she was trying hard to keep the water out of her eyes as she responded. “I love you too,” she murmured. “Take care of him.”

Jace nodded and after a moment, he turned away from her. Shadowhunters didn’t say goodbye and though Jace wouldn’t be a shadowhunter soon, he wasn’t about to break that trend. Saying goodbye would almost be like tempting fate to make him not survive this and he needed to survive this.

Alec would blame himself forever if Jace didn’t, so there was no other option. He needed to survive. He needed to join him. He couldn’t let Alec do this alone.

Jace walked down the dock until he met Magnus, where he stilled. Jace hoped Isabelle had started to walk away already. She didn’t need to see whatever would happen now. Jace didn’t even know what would happen now. Would Magnus do it here on the dock? Would he drag him to the bottom of the ocean?

Magnus turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “Are you ready?” He murmured.

When Jace nodded, he frowned, his eyes flicking up and then down Jace. “I do hope you survive,” Magnus said at last. “You’ll make a pretty one.”

Jace didn’t even have a chance to respond to that before Magnus grabbed him, his grip tight on Jace’s upper arm as he pushed him and then, the world disappeared in a blur of dark blue. Jace was suddenly freezing. For some reason, he hadn’t expected the water to be so cold.

Something moved in front of him and the dark figure made Jace flinch, his shadowhunter instincts yelling at him to find a weapon, to get out of the water where he’d be able to defend himself more easily but after a moment, Jace’s eyes focused on what the figure actually was and his heart started pounding in his chest.

It was Alec. He looked nothing like Jace remembered him but it was him. Jace would recognize him anywhere and he was suddenly ashamed that he’d ever questioned if he would or not. He was huge, which probably shouldn’t have surprised Jace as much as it did. Alec had always been big as a shadowhunter. He’d been bulky and tall and his form now was even more so.

His scales were dark blue and in the water, Jace could just barely see the way they shimmered in the pale moonlight- flickering in light blue, touches of green, turning his body from a dark almost black blue to a cascade of different hues. He had claws now too, long dark spikes that came off his webbed fingers into claws sharp enough that they looked like they’d stab right through Jace, if Alec wanted to do so.

He looked dangerous and terrifying and he looked like Alec. His eyes flashed across Jace and Jace could see that same concern in them that he saw when he got hurt and Alec was there, trying to save him. Jace saw something else moving and it took him a moment to realize it was Magnus. He’d changed now and he looked so entirely different from how he’d looked a moment before, on land.

He was so different from Alec. His scales were bright gold even in the dark, shimmering in hues of red as he moved. His eyes glowed bright in the water and he moved like a blur around Alec, leaving Jace to only see the flash of his tail before he’d moved out of sight again.

Alec darted forward suddenly, pressing his cold mouth against Jace’s. Jace was startled for a moment. Of course, he wanted Alec to kiss him but he was surprised that was his first reaction. Then, he felt Alec pushing air into his lungs and Jace realized what Alec was doing.

Jace was drowning. He was trying to stop Jace from drowning.

Alec grabbed Jace as he pulled away, being careful not to stab Jace with his claws as he did so. He moved like he was going to pull Jace to the surface but Magnus was suddenly there again, grabbing Alec to stop him and chattering in some language Jace did not understand. Whatever Magnus said came out in a series of chirps and noises. Jace wondered if Alec had understood him instinctively when he was turned or if he’d had to learn their language.

Jace had never been fantastic at languages. That had always been Alec’s thing.

Alec pulled away from Jace, looking angry. He seemed to argue with Magnus about something for a moment before Jace felt Magnus grab him and start pulling him down, leaving the pale light from above to start disappearing as they sank.

Alec froze for a moment and then, he darted after them, following them as they went to the bottom.

It was just about then that Jace realized his lungs had started to burn. He was drowning, he realized after a second and this time, Alec was not there to push air into his lungs. Jace didn’t know why he was surprised by that. He’d kind of expected that he’d just change before he had to feel this awful choking feeling but that apparently wasn’t the case because even when they stopped going down, neither Magnus or Alec did anything about the fact that Jace couldn’t breath.

Alec just hovered, looking exceptionally concerned as he made circles around Jace’s drowning body, looking like he wanted desperately to do something to help him but couldn’t.

Jace passed out at some point and when he woke up again, the only thing he could feel was pain. His whole body was lit in pain and that horrible feeling was still burning his lungs. He felt like he was so far past drowning. He felt like he should be dead by now but he wasn’t.

It was a few moments later that Jace started breathing, somehow. He could feel himself doing it in the water but he couldn’t even think about how because everything suddenly hurt so bad that Jace couldn't think of anything else. It felt like all his bones were breaking and it felt like his skin was being torn off but eventually, the pain subsided and when Jace opened his eyes an unknowable amount of time later, everything was different.

At first, Jace didn’t notice that he was different. He noticed that everything around him was different. The ocean, which before had looked like nothing but dark shapes, was lit in a way Jace had never seen before. The light wasn’t actually coming from anywhere but Jace could just see through the darkness now. He could see every particle floating through the water and every small creature fluttering by. He could see the rocks and the grains of sand at the bottom of the ocean. He could see to the water line far above and the warmth.

The water had been freezing when Magnus had pulled him in but now, it felt like a warm bath. It felt like it was the perfect temperature to live in forever and when Jace finally looked down at himself, he realized why. Suddenly, he remembered exactly what happened and he realized for a startling second that he was breathing in the water.

Which made sense, considering that when Jace looked down, he had a tail. It wasn’t as bright as Magnus’ or as dark as Alec’s but instead, it was somewhere in between. Jace’s scales almost looked like Magnus’ gold scales except they were muted, shimmering more in hues of silver and green instead of the bright red of Magnus’ own.

It was beautiful, he thought for a moment but he still didn’t quite feel like that could possibly be him but when he moved, his tail flicked softly and he knew that he was undoubtedly looking at himself.

The moment he moved, he saw a flash of movement next to him and before he even registered that someone was there, he was looking up at Alec. Alec’s eyes were wide and frantic, flicking over him as if he was expecting to see an injury that it didn’t seem like Jace had.

Alec’s mouth opened and he was speaking suddenly. Jace could hear two things happening at once, he could hear the individual sounds that Alec was making, the clicking noises that Jace had heard before, the sounds that had sounded like nothing meaningful at the time but now, Jace could understand him. He didn’t even know how but he could.

“Are you okay?” Alec asked and even though it sounded so different from english, Jace could hear that same alert tone in Alec’s voice that Jace was so used to.

Jace opened his mouth but english words couldn’t seem to find their way out. He fumbled for a moment before Magnus was there at the other side of Alec, speaking softly, “He’s fine. It’s going to take a while for him to be able to speak,” he said, seeming as if he was reminding Alec of that fact. “Remember you?” Magnus asked.

Alec nodded but his eyes didn’t move off Jace. Finally, Alec darted forward and Jace felt Alec’s arms wrap around him. Their tails curled together and Jace felt Alec huff what sounded like a laugh in Jace’s ear.

“I’d have killed you if you died trying to come to me,” Alec murmured to him.

If Jace knew how to speak, he’d have told Alec that he should have always expected Jace to follow him but he didn’t know how to say it, so he just held Alec closer, trying hard to be aware of the talons he now had and not dig them into Alec’s side. If he could have, he’d have told Alec that he loved him too but he couldn’t, so Jace could do nothing but let it wait.

After a few moments, Magnus said they should go home and then, Alec pulled away and Jace got to learn how to swim for the first time.

‘Home’ it turns out was a cave. It was a nice cave admittedly, but still a cave and still very different from anything Jace had ever considered a home before. There was coral growing all around the outside of the cave along with other plants that looked like they had been intentionally placed there. Long flowing strings of seaweed obscured the entrance but they really looked more decorative than truly placed there to hide the cave.

Inside, it was even more intentionally decorated. Jace looked around and found shells. He found pretty, intricate looking gems and stones. There were glass containers pressed into the crevasse of the rocks, containing some things Jace recognized - vampire fangs, feathers - and some he didn’t. There were some human things too.

There was a small row boat pressed into a corner, almost looking like a bed. There was a net hanging across part of the ceiling, swaying gently in the water like a hammock in the wind. Jace could see live fish caught in another smaller net, fluttering around as they attempted feebly to escape.

There were lights here too, lit with some force Jace didn't know of. There were glowing stones across the walls and they reminded Jace of witch lights, something that comforted him and reminded him of home all at once.

Alec didn’t let Jace look around for too long before he was pulling Jace and pushing him gently into the boat, telling him that he needed to rest. Jace sank into the boat without much protest. He wasn’t that good at swimming anyway, especially not if he didn’t have Alec by his side to help him.

Besides, Jace was exhausted. Jace relaxed into the boat and let himself close his eyes, well aware of the fact that Alec was hovering around him anxiously, keeping a close eye on him as if he expected Jace to disappear.

Even that anxious vibe that Alec gave off was comforting. Jace didn’t think he’d ever feel Alec stress him out again.

It was apparent to Jace rather instantly that before he’d arrived, Alec and Magnus’ relationship hadn’t been strictly platonic and now that Jace was there, neither of them seemed to know where they stood. Neither of them said this to Jace but Jace could just tell and suddenly, Meliorn’s words of Magnus being fond of Alec rang a little differently in Jace’s head.

Jace wanted to say something about it. He wanted to talk to Alec and tell him that he loved him but that if he’d moved on, Jace was happy just being with Alec again but his ability to express himself wasn’t quite on par with saying that.

He understood Alec and Magnus instinctively and some part of him knew how to answer them too but trying to actually get the sounds out of his mouth was a hard and difficult process. Apparently, Alec had taken to the language much more easily, which Jace wasn’t really surprised by.

Jace had always gotten praise because he was more flashy than Alec and he excelled at catching everyone’s attention but Alec was always innately more skilled than Jace was, he just kept it to himself. It was only ever people like Izzy and him that noticed but here, the difference was apparent.

Even so, Jace didn’t find himself annoyed by it. He’d thought he’d lost Alec for so long and if it was Alec’s time to outshine him, then Jace was fine fumbling as he tried to speak, as long as Alec would stay with him while he did.

Jace didn’t actually find the words to try to talk to Alec for a few weeks.

Jace was eased into things like he was a baby. Magnus caught his food for him. Magnus showed him how to eat it. Magnus corrected him when Jace swam wrong. Magnus snapped at him when he strayed too close to something dangerous or too far away from him and Alec at all.

Alec himself seemed more than comfortable hovering around Jace and swimming slow circles around him that Jace couldn’t do if he tried, while Magnus did the actual teaching. It occurred to Jace that Alec might not actually know what was dangerous and what wasn’t yet, that or he just referred to Magnus’ judgement anyway.

The three of them had fallen into some kind of hierarchy and Magnus was undoubtedly at the top. When they went out, they went where Magnus brought them. They listened when Magnus spoke. If they came across others (which had only happened once and apparently did not happen often), Magnus was the one that spoke for them.

Magnus was bigger than them and more powerful and far more knowledgeable and that was a comfortable thing to fall into. Jace could see that Alec liked having someone who took care of everything for them and handled all of the important stuff. On the surface, Alec had always had so much on his plate and it must be rather nice now having someone else who took that role. Jace didn’t really mind it either. He’d always been strong headed and even with Alec but here, it was nice that Magnus corralled them like they were children. The structure felt nice in a world that was so foreign, even if Jace really wanted to touch the spiky thing just to see what would happen.

If there was anymore of a hierarchy beyond Magnus being at the top, it was certainly Alec and then Jace. Magnus would ask Alec’s opinion sometimes. They would have discussions that Jace was never involved in and he had the feeling that even when he was able to talk, he wouldn’t be but he wasn’t offended.

He was at the bottom but that came with a freedom that Jace breathed in as easily as his new gills pulled air from the water. Magnus and Alec took care of everything. Jace was safe and he could dart after fish and try to catch them (a task that Magnus did very easily, Alec was good at and Jace hadn’t quite mastered yet) and be dragged back like a child when he got too close to the drop off only Magnus ever seemed to venture into.

He was at the bottom but that was a comfortable place to be. He was taken care of and for once in his life, Jace let himself accept that. He’d never really been taken care of before. He’d never really let himself be but he was learning fast that it was a nice feeling.

In the end, it wasn’t actually Jace who broached the topic of their relationship. Jace had been planning on waiting a little bit longer before he tried to talk to Alec about it but when Alec brought it up, Jace couldn’t exactly tell Alec to wait until he could say more complex things.

It was one of the times Magnus was gone that Alec finally said it. He’d gone out to look for something he was out of, leaving Jace and Alec home alone in the cave. Alec had been folding seaweed, making a little rug out of it that Jace had seen them use like a basket. Truthfully, Jace didn’t think they needed any more of them and the ones they had looked better than the one Alec was making but maybe, Alec just liked having something to do. Jace himself was perfectly content curling against Alec's side, watching him maneuver his claws and trying not to cut the seaweed as he did.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Alec said at last, not even looking up from his task. “Before,” he murmured softly. “It’s okay if you don’t love me but I meant it and I’m glad to have said it but I’m sorry if it upset you.”

It took Jace a second to even process Alec’s words and then, even after he did he wasn’t sure how to respond. He knew what he wanted to say but he didn’t know how in the world to go about saying it, so before he could possibly overthink it, say nothing and react even worse than he had last time, Jace started speaking. “You didn’t,” Jace snapped frantically.

Alec paused and looked over to him, a small frown coming across his dark, scale flaked face as he waited for Jace to continue.

“Upset me.” Jace said, only recalling how to say it because Alec just had. “You didn’t upset me,” Jace repeated, finally stringing his thought together into a full sentence. Jace frowned himself, fully expecting Alec to cut him off as he struggled to find the words but Alec didn’t, he just waited and Jace was thankful for it.

Jace looked up to meet Alec’s eyes again, “I love you too,” he murmured. “I just didn’t-” Jace shook his head, frustrated. “I was scared,” he started again, scraping his unfinished sentence completely. “But I love you,” Jace repeated, hoping if Alec heard anything in his mangled words that he’d hear that.

Alec’s eyes were wide and soft. He looked away, not exactly looking disappointed but more shocked, as if the world had shifted in a direction he hadn’t expected and he didn’t quite know how to process it. Jace understood the feeling.

“Magnus?” Jace posed simply.

Alec slowly looked up to him. “Do you like Magnus?” Alec posed simply in response.

Of course, Jace liked Magnus. Magnus took care of them. Magnus saved Alec. Magnus reunited them by taking Jace too and besides, Jace did like Magnus even personally. Jace liked watching Magnus. Jace liked doing stuff Magnus didn’t like him to do, just so Magnus would roll his eyes and stop him. Jace liked how easy on Alec Magnus was and he liked how Magnus always seemed to know what not to say to Alec, to avoid pressing all those insecure buttons that other people had always seemed to press so easily.

Similarly, Jace liked how soft on him Magnus was too. Jace was still testing that boundary with Magnus but so far, Magnus never seemed honestly annoyed with him. He was always lighthearted about it, even when what Jace was doing probably was annoying to a centuries old all-powerful being but Magnus never lashed out at him and he ever seemed to get aggravated with Jace, not really.

But even besides all that, Jace knew that wasn’t what Alec was asking. Alec knew Jace liked Magnus. It was obvious but he was asking if Jace liked Magnus and the truth was, Jace wasn’t sure.

Magnus was beautiful. He was charming and he was fun to be around. He certainly flirted with Jace enough to indicate that he was interested but… it was obvious that Alec and Magnus were drawn to each other. Certainly, Magnus couldn’t really be interested in him too? That’s just how Magnus was. He flirted where others would normally do anything else.

“Does Magnus like me?” Jace asked instead of answering.

For a second, a brief almost amused smile flickered across Alec's face and then, someone else was speaking from behind them.

“Smooth way to avoid the question,” Magnus called over. “I haven’t peaked your interest yet?” He asked, half flirtatious and half joking. He raised an eyebrow and at once, Jace wanted to point and exclaim that that was why he didn’t believe Magnus was ever actually interested in him.

Magnus flirted with Alec too sure but Magnus also leaned close to Alec. He’d touch him softly and murmur to him. With Jace, Magnus only ever did this - he’d flirt, always half joking, never completely giving Jace any reason to think he meant it.

“You’re joking,” Jace snapped, his tone flat.

Instantly, the smirk on Magnus’ face disappeared.

“You never flirt with me like you do Alec.” Jace continued. “You’re always kidding.”

For a moment, neither Alec nor Magnus responded and then, Magnus opened his mouth, looking confused. “I’m not kidding,” he said softly. “Have you thought I’ve been kidding?”

Jace had the urge to deny it suddenly and avoid the embarrassment but after a second of hesitation, he nodded.

Magnus looked astonished. “I wasn’t kidding,” he insisted. “I just-” Magnus gestured over to Alec. “I knew Alec was interested, Jace. We talked about it before you came.” Magnus paused for a moment, frowning. “I didn’t know if you were or not and with you here, I wasn’t exactly sure if I was being cut out.” Jace stared, his mind struggling to process exactly what Magnus was trying to say. “So, you weren’t kidding?” Jace asked at last.

Magnus' expression flickered in an amused smile but there was something a little… self conscious beneath that. “I wasn’t kidding,” he confirmed.

“Oh,” Jace said, struggling to come up with a response.

“Disappointed?” Magnus asked, his lips quirking like it was a joke even though he didn’t seem to find it amusing.

“No,” Jace said hastily. “Surprised,” he insisted instead. They both stared at each other and after a pathetically long moment, it occurred to Jace that Magnus was scared Jace didn’t like him. He thought that somehow, Jace didn’t like him. “I’m not kidding either,” Jace said, which didn’t really make sense because up until now, Jace hadn’t really said anything at all, let alone something that Magnus might mistake as a joke but Magnus seemed to understand what he was saying anyway.

Magnus nodded slowly, “And… you two?” He asked, glancing between them.

Jace looked to Alec. “Not kidding?” He asked after a moment.

Alec huffed a soft, chipped laugh. “Not kidding,” he assured.

For the moment, it seemed it was as simple as that and there really wasn’t anything else to say until Magnus finally spoke again. “Well, let’s go,” Magnus said, turning towards the entrance of the cave that he’d come from a few moments before. “You’re finally going to catch a fish,” Magnus called over his shoulder.

Jace groaned softly before following, as Alec laughed an adorable, distinctly inhuman sound behind him.

Jace’s new life was easier to fall into than he’d expected it would be. He thought it would be a struggle all the way through and while some things were, even the struggles came easier than Jace had expected. Jace struggled to speak but neither Magnus nor Alec rushed him to get better at it any quicker than he did, so it didn’t seem like it was that big of a problem. Jace sucked at catching fish and he wasn’t stellar at swimming but Magnus caught them food and besides laughing at Jace’s attempts to be as elegant as Magnus was in the water, they didn’t rush him on that either.

Similarly, Magnus and Alec were easier to fall into than Jace had expected. With assurance that Jace was in fact interested, Magnus was more blunt with his flirting. He’d lean into Jace like he did Alec. He’d brush Jace’s golden wispy hair back and he’d press kisses onto Jace’s cheek, being careful to keep his sharp teeth and claws safely tucked away (something Jace learned that he was not fantastic at, when their relationship started to involve a bit more interactive things).

Alec was a bit more hesitant with him and it didn’t help that Jace felt equally as unsure with Alec. It was easy to fall into that relationship with Magnus when the man himself was the one initiating it but neither Alec nor Jace seemed quite sure how to go about it with each other. For a long time, they’d been friends and then, they’d been parabatai and now, they didn’t quite seem to know how to be something else, even if they both wanted to be.

In the end, they realized they were both vastly overthinking it. Nothing about the way they interacted had to change. Jace didn’t have to push aside his playful nature to try and flirt and Alec didn’t have to push aside his predisposition to be annoyed at what Jace did, so they could try to be more romantic.

Their same banter was fine and at night, if Jace wanted to tuck his tail around Alec’s and bury his face in the man’s neck, he could and that would be fine. If Alec wanted to wake him up by kissing him, he could and overthinking the way they interacted otherwise helped no one.

It was Magnus who so very helpfully pointed this out, after awkwardly watching both of them try to fumble around their new relationship for a few days. They both realized very quickly that Magnus was right, as he often was.

Looking back on it, joining Alec hadn’t exactly been a choice. He hadn’t really thought about the consequences or what life would be like underwater. The only thing he’d thought about was Alec and that he needed to follow him, regardless of where he went. There hadn’t been another choice but overall, Jace found that he couldn’t regret what he’d done at all.

Shadowhunters thought of those underwater as cursed, vicious creatures. The latter, Jace could understand given that he thought Magnus could kill someone in a second but the former? No, Jace didn’t think they were cursed. The real curse would be a life trapped away from Alec. The real curse would be knowing that Alec was here with Magnus and being stuck above.

Jace was not cursed. Alec was not cursed. Their lives were just different now and besides, if it meant that Jace could spend eternity with Alec and Magnus, how could it be anything less than a blessing? How could anyone pity them?

Besides, Jace also learned fairly quickly that his new anatomy was quite a bit more fun than what he’d had as a shadowhunter. Magnus said that their bodies were more sensitive than human bodies and that was a fact that Jace was more than a little excited to explore himself.

If Jace had been cursed with anything, it was an astounding appreciation for everything his new body had to offer. Things were different but overall, Jace really couldn’t complain, even if he never quite seemed to get the hang of the spinning maneuver that Magnus and Alec could do in the water.

Jace really, really wanted to be able to do it but he had a long time to practice and Magnus had a long time to be able to laugh at him as he tried to do it. Jace really thought that things could have ended up far worse for him than a life like this, with two boyfriends who he was not worried would get sick of him and a home full of water where he was safe from scary predators when his far more capable boyfriends were away.

Jace didn’t think that a life cursed to remain in the ocean was that bad.

#shadowhunters #tsc #Malace #fics #Magnus Bane #alec lightwood #jace herondale #sh-rare-pair-exchange #my fics

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eternvlblyss · 4 years ago

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i never knew why i hesitated counting it as my “first time” and now it’s so clear why...

tw//sexual assault

“no” means “no,” but so does...

i’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. i feel like since this pandemic happened, it’s allowed me to think a lot about my past, what i’ve been through, what i’ve achieved, and what broke me, because like, what else am i gonna do throughout my days lol

so while i was scrolling through twitter late at night one time, i stumbled upon a thread, which i linked above. this person listed other phrases that also meant “no.” their intention with that was to bring awareness to what consent is and what the difference is between a solid “yes” and an unsure “yes.” for the longest time, i always thought when i had my supposed “first time,” it was my fault it happened and it was “consensual” because i didn’t exactly say “no.”

i remember vividly how it went, how i felt and what i said. it was nothing at all how i wanted my “first time” to be. i really blamed myself a lot for it and regretted it immediately after it happened. he was my coworker and for a while, i had this crush on him, but i never acted on it because we worked together. i didn’t want to make anything uncomfortable for me or him, so i never tried to pursue anything. he initiated everything; conversations, texting, and me having a crush on him, i went along with everything. he messaged me one day and sent me pics of cookie dough that he bought from the store, because at work, i would always tell him that i love to bake and cookies were my favorite dessert. he asked if i wanted to bake them together, of course i immediately said yes and went over. i was 20 at the time. i was young and i’m a late bloomer. i never had guys reach out to me first ever, so any attention that i got from a guy, i melted and fell head over heels for them. THAT, i learned to get over. men ain’t sh*t.

i literally didn’t think anything would come out of this, even though i had a slight crush on him. like i said, i didn’t want to make things complicated at work. so i went over to his house to bake cookies and hung out with him as friends, that was all i wanted to do. he even had one of his friends over and so i was just excited to chill, rather than be stuck at home alone studying for a quiz i had the next day. we baked the cookies and we were having such a great time. i even remember thinking that the way we were making a mess and having fun in the kitchen was similar to how it went in romcom movies. god was i so naive :/

so after we finished baking, we drank a little, smoked weed for a bit, as college students would, and i planned to sober up before i drove home. we talked for a while, but then he had to go and drop his friend off back to his place. that’s where i should’ve gotten up and said, “ok well i’ll just go home now too.” before i could even say anything, he told me, “can you wait here? i’ll be back in a few minutes it’ll be quick.” me, being so afraid to say “no” because i had this small crush on him, said “yes” and waited at his house all by myself.

there were so many moments where i knew i should’ve just gotten up and left the house. i wasn’t sober enough to drive and i think that’s why i didn’t leave, but i also had the option to text my best friends to come and pick me up, and i really, really wish i had done that ): i kick myself over it every time i think about it. the rest of the night was just not it. i never once said “yes” to wanting to do whatever he wanted. i wasn’t dressed in a way that people could argue and say that i gave off the wrong idea to him, because i was wearing jeans, a long sleeve shirt and a jacket over the long sleeve. the only fault i kept thinking about was that i didn’t say “no.”

what also made me think this was wrong was that, the condom had broke once, i told him to “stop” and that i was tired, but he kept asking and begging to keep going. i had told him to “stop” even before that, and yet, he didn’t listen to me. that’s when i gave up trying to say “no,” and i just said “fine.” i wanted to write this because the exact words i had said to him that night while it was happening were in that thread: “stop,” “maybe another time,” “i don’t want to do this anymore,” “i don’t think so,” and “not right now.”

i’m such a “yes” girl in general, and if i really wanted to do something, i will say “yes.” with something i don’t want to do, i can never get myself to fully say “no.” i’ll say things like those phrases, and it would insinuate that i don’t really want to do it. i know that can get me into trouble though so i do need to work on being more assertive and learn how to say “no.”

after it happened, i didn’t feel okay, i felt kind of empty and disappointed in myself. i clearly remember trying to rush out of his house, but he kept asking me to stay. i made up such a stupid excuse of saying “oh i gotta go study for my quiz,” when it was freakin 4am. i got into my car and i felt so ashamed of myself because that’s not at ALL what i expected to happen and the way it happened wasn’t who i am. i really felt like i was lost or i just wasn’t the same girl anymore, and that made me incredibly sad. i just wanted to bake cookies with my crush and instead, that happened. i thought he would get the hint, but i kept telling myself, “you didn’t say no alyssa, so how is he supposed to know you didn’t want to do that.” but like )’: i felt so empty.

it didn’t feel right to me at all, and at the time, i just never knew why it didn’t feel right. when i told my friends and cousins about it, the first thing they asked me was if it was consensual. i remember clearly how i answered and i knew i hesitated, but i told them "yes” it was, because i mean, i really didn’t say “no.” i thought that was the only reason why what had happened, qualified as me giving my consent. with my best friends, i was so scared of them asking me why didn’t i just say “no” if i didn’t want that to happen, because my answer would’ve been, “i was too afraid to.” i thought that wasn’t a good enough answer. i didn’t want them or anyone to be mad at me for being afraid to say “no,” because if i had just said “no,” none of that would have happened right? it just felt like that was all society needed to know in order to consider it as sexual assault or not. i blocked that night out of my mind, brainwashed myself to think it was consensual, and that was my “first time.”

just last year, i finally stopped blaming myself for what happened because of others who came forward with their stories. i read similar stories to mine, and all this time, i thought me acting and feeling this way over something i conditioned myself to think was “consensual,” was stupid of me. i didn’t think i had the right to even feel like i was violated that night because social media made me believe that i was in the wrong when i didn’t fully and exactly say “no.” i thought no one was gonna be on my side or empathize with me because i didn’t say “no,” so there was no point in me feeling empty about it after all these years. but i now know that i shouldn’t feel like it was my fault. i knew there was a reason why i could never bring myself to talk about my “first time” so casually, and why i cringed at the memory of it. it was because i did not give my consent for it to happen and even when i tried saying “maybe another time” or “not right now” or even “stop,” he still didn’t listen to that.

i’ve learned that there are people out there who are like me and struggle with saying "no,” especially in a situation like that. so if something similar happened to you, please understand that you are not in the wrong and it is not your fault. if you struggle with saying “no,” and haven’t given a solid “yes,” then you did not give your consent. people who cross that line and disregard it are perpetrators and they are in the wrong for not sensing that someone is uncomfortable.

for years i kept thinking to myself “it was consensual because i didn’t tell him no, right?” but after seeing so many others experience the same situation as me, it’s clear now that i really tried to say “no” to him in ways that i was comfortable with. consent is so important. if it is not a solid “yes” then it is a “no.” “no” and any of those phrases in the thread does not mean try and coerce someone to change their mind or wear them down to the point where they feel like they have to say “yes,” it doesn’t work like that. consent is not negotiable.

#blog #3/9/21 10:29pm #tw//sexual assault #harassment #assault #me too movement

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spnjediavenger · 5 years ago

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Who You Are (Sam x teen!sister!reader)

Title: Who You Are (Sam x teen!sister!reader)

Type: one-shot

Warnings: self harm scars, brief talk of SH (nothing at all graphic), depression, some bullying and angst

Spoilers: none

Notes: I in no way fantasize self harm, i’ve struggled with it which is why i wrote this. If you struggle/have struggled, you are much stronger than you think! Just know you're not alone and that there's so much help out there!

Also, sorry for the lack of Dean. As much as I love him (though I’m still totally a Sam girl), I see Sam as more of the better/easier one to talk to for emotional topics.

Y/n took long, fast strides as she neared the bunker, anxious to get inside and forget about her day at school.

Y/n was Sam and Dean’s half sister. After she lost her immediate family, the boys took her in and did all they could to give her a normal(ish) life. She wanted to go to school like a normal teenager. Live out her high school years like a normal kid would do. Have normal classes and normal, non-hunting friends. Not that she had anything against hunters, but she wanted to avoid any outside hunting stimuli.

When she got to the bunker, it became a big home. She got very close to Sam, Dean, and Cas. She was able to get away from her past struggles and was ready to get back to school and start over. But today, and days prior, she was sad to see that just wouldn’t be the case.

Y/n could always see the stares. But she didn’t care. She knew almost everyone had bullies; she could ignore hers. She wouldn’t let them get the best of her. But as the days and weeks went on, it got harder and harder to ignore them. The lines on her wrist and light ones up her arm made sure of that.

Losing her family was hard on her, as it would be on anyone. But her underlying mental illness made it that much worse. Even with Sam and Dean saving her and taking her in, she turned to cutting. It was a release, gave her some semblance of control, and the physical pain took precedence over her emotional pain.

But with the boys’ help, she was eventually able to stop. And she was able to move on from that part of her life. She still didn’t feel comfortable showing her scars and often wore long sleeves. So when they rolled up one day, Y/n was unfortunate enough to have a lot of others see.

“Freak.”

“Couldn’t you do anything else?”

“Weak.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

Shame.

“She’s messed up.”

“Why would you do that to yourself?”

Shame.

Though the comments weren’t always hateful persay, they still hurt because they made her feel alone and misunderstood. Today she got an extra dose of it when some bullies were picking on her. Blaming her for being careless, weak, and stupid. They made her feel shameful of what she did. For her actions that will forever be indented into her skin.

So, Y/n threw the bunker door open, quickly closing it behind her and running down the stairs. Sam was sitting at a table in the library, Dean gone on a solo hunt, and looked through the war room upon hearing her.

“Hey, kiddo. How was school?” he called as he turned his head. Though by the time he asked, Y/n was already gone. Uh oh, he thought. Sam lightly sighed, closed his book, set it down, and headed to Y/n’s room. Walking down the hallways, he finally approached her door. “Y/n?” he said, lightly tapping his knuckles on the wood. “Y/n/n, can I come in?”

He almost didn’t hear it, but a quiet, small-sounding ‘sure’ came from the girl’s room. Sam opened the door to find Y/n laying on her side, facing away from him, sniffling quietly. Sam sighed again and went to sit at the edge of her bed. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Nothing,” Y/n whispered, shaking her head a little. She knew Sam would see right through her lies, but she didn’t want to look weak in front of him. She was supposed to be past her struggles - over the hurt and the pain.

Sam almost rolled his eyes at her stubbornness were she not upset right now. “You know I can tell you’re lying, right?” he lightly jested her. He grew serious again before adding, “Really, what’s wrong? You know you can talk to me about anything.”

Y/n sniffled before sitting up against the headboard of her bed and wrapping her arms around her legs, still not looking at Sam. He looked at her patiently, but his concerned expression willed her to speak. Y/n sighed. “It’s just-...just some kids being jerks,” she said, eyes downcast as she felt ashamed for letting people getting to her, as well as what they shamed her for.

Sam’s heart panged with empathy. “I know the feeling. I was bullied when I was in high school too. And I know it’s easier said than done, but you can’t let them get to you. How long has this been going on?”

Y/n shrugged. “Since starting I guess. But I was always able to handle it…”

“So what changed?” Sam asked, worry lines creasing his forehead.

He caught the movement of her hand unconsciously going to hold her left wrist, a couple tears finally escaping her eyes. That told him all he needed. Sam sighed as his heart got heavy. Not just at his sister’s hurt, but at how people could be so ignorant.

The younger Winchester brother scooted up to fully sit on Y/n’s bed. He ran his hands comfortingly down her arms until he reached her wrists, untangling them from around her legs.

“Y/n, don’t listen to those kids. They have no idea the pain you went through that drove you to do that. You-”

“I was weak, Sam,” she whimpered. “I messed up by doing these things and I’m stupid for-”

“Y/n Winchester, you listen to me,” Sam interrupted her, voice shaking with emotion. Y/n finally looked him in the eyes to see his tearing up as well. “Those kids don’t decide who you are. You do. And if you look back and see the strength it took for you to reach out, get help, and quit cutting, you’ll see yourself as a strong, brave young woman who survived her own personal hell.” Sam paused to grab the left sleeve of her shirt, making Y/n grab his hand, squeezing her eyes shut and clenching her teeth to keep a cry from escaping.

Sam put his free hand to lovingly cup her cheek to make her look at him again. “Y/n, it’s ok. Don’t be ashamed of these,” he continued, successfully pushing her sleeve up to reveal the group of scars, some different shades and different thicknesses than others. He ran a thumb over the lines and gave her a sad, tearful smile. Y/n closed her eyes again as she finally let out a soft sob. “Don’t be ashamed of your scars. They’re a sign of your strength and are a reminder of how far you’ve come. Other people might not understand that, but I want you to. Alright?”

Y/n nodded and sobbed again as Sam pulled her into a hug, holding her head against his shoulder. He gave his sister a kiss on her temple and rested his head against hers. “You are so strong, Y/n. If I need to remind you every day, I will. Please don’t be ashamed of what you did or who you are.” Y/n nodded against his chest and hugged him tighter.

“I love you, Sammy,” she cried.

Sam wiped a hand down his face to clear the tears away. “I love you too, sis. Dean and I both do. And we’re proud as hell of who you are, baby girl.”

A/N: I wrote this one a little in haste as well cuz it was something I've had in my mind. I hide my scars like this but only around my dad cuz i know he views them so negatively and i dont have the emotional capacity to deal with that on a daily basis.

Anyway, if you have scars and struggle with your image like i do sometimes, don’t let anyone make you doubt yourself or your worth cuz they have no idea the pain you’ve been through that drove you to those actions. A line in one of my favorite songs goes, “every scar on my skin is a beautiful reminder/of a moment when I didn't give in and I walked through fire” (Warrior by Hannah Kerr). Hang in there!

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic #SPN #SPN FANDOM #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #Sam Winchester #sam and dean #Sam and Dean Winchester #x reader #spn x reader #spn x teen!reader #spn x sister figure!reader #self harm scars #mental health awareness #winchester sister

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dopescotlandwarrior · 5 years ago

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Unforgettable-Chapter Five

Previous chapters on AO3 A special thanks to @statell for all your help

Chapter Five

“Finally! I thought Friday would never come. How are ye Sassenach?”

Claire tried to smile and laugh but it was a pathetic attempt and Jamie’s trained eye was instantly sending a warning that something was wrong. Her eyes darting around the room, pale skin color, hand at her neck, and pupils dilated.

Claire watched Jamie look at his lap for a minute, he was writing something and quickly held the note to the camera. IS SOMEONE THERE?

“No.”

“What has ye so wound up Claire?”

Jamie wasn’t smiling. He was watching all the subconscious indicators of Claire’s health, body and mind.

“Probably nothing. It feels weird around here the past couple weeks. We usually see patients from morning till night, with a line clear out the door sometimes. The villagers stopped coming. It’s like we are a medical staff with no people to treat. I’m a little scared by it is all.”

Jamie’s voice took on a tone she had never heard, and it sent shivers up her spine.

“Claire, I want ye to leave and head for the airport as fast as you can, understand sweetheart?” You have good reason to fear. All of you need to move out at first light.”

“Why are you trying to scare me, Jamie!”

“Sassenach, listen, I know something about this, it was my job for six years. If ye’ve ever taken a leap of faith, do it now.”

“Why? Tell me why, and I’ll do it, Jamie.”

“Because I love ye Sassenach, from the top of your head to the soles of your feet. I know I canna keep ye so don’t get scared and run away.” Jamie lowered his voice and stared into her eyes. “This isn’t about getting you back to Scotland, it’s about getting ye and yer friends out of the country. You must hurry and send me updates every hour so I can track ye.”

Claire watched his mouth move but heard nothing after “I love ye.” She watched his clear eyes get close to the camera as he was making a point about something. She giggled at him with stars in her eyes. Jamie stopped his tirade and looked at her face blushing like a spring rose, teary eyes, a big white smile, he knew then she was on a different page than he was, maybe a different planet by the looks of her.

“Sassenach, what’s the last thing I said?”

“You love me, Jamie?”

“Oh my God, lass, yes.” He spoke just above a whisper, “and by the looks of ye, that makes ye happy, does it nae?”

She almost seemed catatonic but shook her head yes.

“Listen to me, Claire. I need another seventy years to tell ye I love ye and I promise I won’t hold ye down, but ye have to survive getting to the airport. Promise me ye will do as I say.”

Claire seemed to snap out of her reverie. Her eyes got wide and panicked, “What do we do Jamie.”

Jamie repeated the instructions to leave at first light for the airport, take the first flight out of the country, anywhere safe, and send her location hourly if she could.

“Charge yer phone right away then keep it on you in a secure pocket. Get Joe, Kevin, and Cutter ready to leave with you. Take the keys for one of the vehicles so it canna be taken by others and fill the tank tonight. Passport, money, credit cards, and phone, leave the rest. Do you understand, love?”

“How do you know all this stuff?”

“If ye promise to follow my orders, I promise to tell ye. Go and get yer friends ready. I love ye Sassenach.”

Holy shit she thought! Feeling her hands shake, she forced herself to push away from the fear and jumped into fresh field pants, black wife beater, pulling a black t-shirt over that. She zipped her freshly charged phone into a pocket.

Claire opened Joe’s door and crept into the room squatting next to his bed she called to him quietly. He jumped violently and she immediately silenced him holding both his arms.

“Please Joe, shh! You must wake up. Something bad is happening…”

As Claire woke Joe and gave him instructions, the front door of the hospital opened and something like a bowling ball rolled into the hallway, silently making its way until it stopped, made a clicking sound, and exploded.

The sound was deafening, and Claire was slammed into the wall and dropped to the floor. She screamed until her lungs were empty, grabbing at Joe and pulling him out of bed. Two more explosions were heard toward the other end of the building, and then the screaming started, followed by machine gunfire.

Claire was so scared she couldn’t move. They were trapped in Joe’s room with Kevin who had just entered. It would be like shooting ducks in a barrel, so any chance they might have was worth the risk. Kevin grabbed Claire pulling her screaming out of the room seemingly directly in the line of fire. She struggled against him and felt him pick her up by belt and arm as he launched her into the laundry shoot headfirst.

Claire was in utter shock, grasping for the slippery sides of the chute, trying to slow her descent until she was free falling into a large pile of bed sheets, towels, and gowns. She rolled off feeling the pressure of the two men falling onto the laundry after her. They had all done many shifts down here and ran for the only exit door from this level.

Again, Kevin grabbed Claire and ran with her outside toward the edge of the vegetation. There was a twenty-foot gap between the building and the jungle. Claire ran, hearing the screaming from inside the building and several shooters outside to pick off runners.

She expected it, she waited for it, just as the vegetation touched her lower legs, Joe threw her to the ground and laid on top of her, ”sh!”

They were much too close to the hospital. When Claire felt Joe yank her arm up, she knew to bolt. Joe held her and Kevin’s hand to prevent separation as they took off. With every step, he felt more confident until Claire’s hand was ripped away from him. The jungle lit up like it was daylight and Claire was in the air, spinning until she came down in the brush.

Kevin yanked Joe hard to the ground and put his hand over his mouth. They were frozen that way until the giant light went off and men were yelling in Spanish. The rebels pulled the light for another fifty feet and lit up the dark looking for running bodies.

Joe was crying and whispering, “they shot Claire.” Kevin begged him not to move and stay quiet. He put his arms around Joe for a minute and squeezed with all his might. Joe rolled away from him, crawling in the direction she was moving. Kevin stayed low as he searched close enough to hear Joe. The unmistakable sound of fabric ripping brought Kevin close to Claire, he felt the ground and found her body.

Kevin was choking on his need to sob. It was right in his throat and if he took one more breath it was coming out. Just before he felt he would pass out from holding his breath, a tiny voice bounced off his eardrum and he exhaled quietly. She was speaking to Joe! He felt Joe flat on the ground, Claire was inching towards him. Kevin grabbed her hips and hoisted her on Joe’s back. In minutes, they were running again, except Claire, who was hanging on for dear life with one arm.

They stopped to rest, and Claire climbed off Joe’s back, telling him no when he tried to get her back on.

“It’s not bad Joe, it went straight through and missed the bone. It hurts like bloody hell so I’m going to make a sling if you help me. I can run.”

She got her t-shirt off and handed it to Joe, who created a tight sling in a matter of minutes. It eased the pain in her shoulder, and she started running forcing the men to follow and stop nit-picking about her injury. Kevin pointed them toward the rocky hills, praying they were going in the right direction. The night was so black they could easily get turned around and run right back into the hospital. None of them knew how long they ran but when they stopped to rest, Claire pitched forward unconscious.

“Listen to me Joe, Kevin’s mouth on Joe’s ear. I know there is a cave along this side, I’ve seen it. Stay with her, lay flat if you hear anyone coming, and wait for me. He kissed Joe hard on the mouth and took off along the hillside. Joe held Claire in his arms and pushed her hair away, praying Kevin would hurry.

Jamie went from one site to another on the dark web, looking for news about Honduras and there was nothing. So why didn’t Claire answer his text messages and calls? It started out with a desire to calm her down after his show of force during their Skype call, but when she didn’t answer he became concerned.

He was about out of his mind with worry when the Central America Hot Zone site jolted him to his feet. “Christ,” he whispered. It was a preliminary report about an attack on a hospital. He read a little more and knew it was Claire’s hospital. Jamie ran outside and jumped in his truck.

Hearing the door slam shut, Geneva sat on Jamie’s bed fuming with anger. Did he forget she was here? She looked down at the new teddy she purchased today for this very night and planned to keep a low light on just for him. She could feel he was somewhere else for weeks. At first, she played her usual card, nose in the air, pissed off, no communication. Then he started leaving on the weekends to camp or something. The little time he gave her during the week was rushed and he was in no mood for sex. “This is ridiculous.” Geneva changed her clothes and left the teddy on his bed, then went home. She figured he would be at her door in the morning with flowers and an apology.

Jamie headed for Lallybroch at triple the speed allowed and parked away from the house so he could approach in silence. He pressed against a fake wall in the barn and grabbed his bug-out bag, then replaced the wall. He left as he came, in silence.

Jenny stood in the dark of her room and watched her brother run away from the barn. Somehow, she knew and crossed herself praying for his safety.

Hot cocoa and a blazing fire was Jenny’s cure for insomnia and worry. She deployed both and rocked herself into memories of the past when Jamie’s life changed forever. Since he was a lad all he wanted to do was be a doctor and heal people. He had the intellect but sadly not the money to fund his education. When he learned that the government would pay for his training, he made an appointment at the local recruiting office. Ten hours the first day, and ten hours the second day, testing the whole time.

She remembered him sitting with their da at the kitchen table explaining the benefits of the program, how he scored, and how many different people he had to test for. Most importantly, they would send him to college and medical school. The arguing raged for days and then one morning when they got up, Jamie was gone. It would be two years before they would see him again. In the interim, there were extravagant gifts for Christmas and birthdays, and cards sent from all over the world.

Jenny knew nothing of what Jamie did, no one did. She assumed he was a soldier of some kind because he left soon after his military testing. The one thing he would say when asked is that he worked for Scotland. Why is he goin again, she wondered and pulled a shawl across her cold shoulders.

Jamie pulled everything out of the bag on his kitchen table and shoved batteries into his communication device that would encrypt the code he entered and continue to morph the code until it was received. He scribbled his questions, writing the code below the letters. His fingers flew over the keys on the device, request ground extraction Honduras 3 male, I female, deadly force. gr-ex-hdrs-m3,1-df Send. He watched and waited. With wide eyes and a ramming heart, he saw the response, N, NS. Neg, no sanction. Jamie was stunned. It took a full minute to consider the alternative and called the one person who might agree. Jamie needed a sniper to clear the way so he could find Claire and the others.

“Low, sorry …meant... heeelllo.”

“Christ are ye drunk?”

“No.”

“CAH support, NS”

“Ahh, Mexico is so beautif…. damn phone drop, oh, shit I kick it, where did it go?”

Jamie had clicked off. The drunk idiot better show up in Mexico in six hours, ready to fight, he thought. He gathered his gear and headed for his clinic. It was almost light; the babysitter would be there soon.

She was vetted by four countries, hired and paid by someone unknown. Gorgeous, with a full set of attributes that made her job doable, if not easy. She knew all the doctors in the area on a first name basis and would reschedule Jamie’s patients among them for as long as he needed to be away. Speaking of the invisible group they both worked for had a penalty second to shooting your commanding officer. Still, Jamie teased her once. They were alone, the clinic was locked so he asked how he would know she wasn’t working for the other side. He was joking, she was not. “Because you would be dead…long time ago.” she said as she walked back to her desk.

He kept dialing Claire and looked up as the office manager came in. She looked at him, “How long?”

“Five days, I hope.”

“Have a nice trip doctor.”

Jamie put his ball cap on, and the physician gave way to the soldier.

Joe was getting scared because he couldn’t wake Claire. He felt the pulse in her neck, it was weak and thready. He could see the glow of the sunrise on the horizon and knew they would be exposed in a very short time. He felt a hand grab his shoulder and pull him up.

“Jesus I’m glad to see you. Did you find the cave?”

“I did. It’s a bit of a climb but it will be a safe place to regroup and get Claire on her feet. Let’s go.”

When Joe laid Claire on the ground in the cave, he took his first look at her shoulder. It was serious, and her wife-beater was soaked with all the blood she had lost and was dripping onto the ground. They were exhausted, so when Kevin pulled him to the ground, they slept.

Claire's vibrating phone pulled Joe awake and he scrolled through the numerous calls from Jamie. He answered the call.

“Who is this! Joe! Is that you? Please tell me who ye are.”

Joe heard the voice on the other end, in Scotland, safe, no idea what they had been through during the night. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t bridge that gap. He knew Jamie loved Claire and here she was dying. How could the world get so fucked up so fast?

“STATE YER NAME,” Jamie roared into the phone.

“Joe.”

“That’s a good lad. Is Claire there with ye?”

“Yes, but she’s in a coma, Jamie. She’s been shot and she won’t wake up. Tremendous loss of blood. She will die and we can’t get out of the cave.”

“Yes ye can laddie, I’m close. I’m on a fast boat from Mexico, very close, with ground transport waiting. Put the phone on the ground, please, and step away from it. I’ll lock yer coordinates and be there in less than an hour. Tell Claire I’m comin.”

Joe backed away from the phone just as Kevin came rushing into the cave after doing some reconnaissance.

“Jesus, Joe they are everywhere, combing through the vegetation. I think they’re looking for us. They’re gonna know about the caves.”

“Quiet, before you scare yourself to death.” He nodded toward the phone on the ground, “Jamie will be here in an hour. We’re saved.”

Kevin had to actually walk in front of Joe to see if he was joking or just lost his marbles during the night.

“If he doesn’t have an army behind him, how is he supposed to save us, Joe?”

“He didn’t say, but he sounded pretty confident.”

The men sat near Claire and quietly waited, both expecting to die in the next few minutes as they could hear the voices of the rebels shouting in Spanish.

Joe looked at Kevin, “I feel so bad we couldn’t get to Cutter. Do you think he got out?”

“No, he’s dead Joe. I saw them shoot him as I ran to your room.”

Joe felt like he was coming apart. It was too much for him to process and he couldn’t stop the tears from coming. For Claire, for Cutter, for everyone they knew and worked with all these months. He broke down and Kevin held him fiercely asking him to be quiet. Kevin knew their time was short, so maybe it didn’t matter.

The rebels were getting closer. Kevin heard the loud directive from someone, “bomb the caves.”

Kevin pulled Joe close and kissed him like it would be his last.

“I’ve fallen in love with you, handsome. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, deal?”

Before Joe could respond the first grenade went off below them, then another, then another. They heard the loud machine gun fire pinging on the rocks and dirt flying outside the entrance.

“They want to scare us into running, makes it easier, and uses less resources.”

“Well, it also works, it’s taking all my strength not to run out that opening.” Joe looked down at Claire. “I would never leave you,” he squeezed her calf.

The gunfire stopped, and in the silence, the men harbored hope they were saved. The next explosion was so loud it made them both dive for the ground as dirt and rocks from above rained down on them. Joe covered Claire with his body while Kevin watched the shadow of a man walking toward them.

He prayed to God and filled his mind with his mother’s face, he still had so much to say to her. Both men watched the shadow on the rocks moving closer. The man was tossing a ball in the air and catching it, but it wasn’t a ball, it was a grenade. The other hand came up to pull the pin and the man lurched forward landing face down right in front of their entrance.

“What the fuck?” Joe was looking at the half-headed dead man with the grenade still in his hand. “Did you hear a shot?”

“I heard nothing. Joe, I’m scared shitless.”

A large man dropped down from above with his arms raised.

“I’m unarmed, lookin for my girl and her friends, I’m Jamie Fraser.”

When he saw Claire on the ground, he dropped to his knees asking questions about the injury. She was burning up, so Jamie put a small round piece of plastic on her cheek and a minute later had a read on her dangerously high temperature. The velcro of his pockets ripped and a syringe was being filled with life-saving antibiotics. Jamie unclasped her pants and rolled her to the side where he plunged the needle into her scorching ass. He rolled her back and looked at her beautiful face for just a moment, then he was moving again.

He stuck her finger and filled a stick of blood. Placing it in a special container to keep it upright. Connecting the container to a string, he stood up, spinning the tube of blood at the end of the string. He spun as hard as he could for five minutes until Joe jumped up and took the string, Kevin was next and after ten minutes they had a rough idea of her blood volume.

Jamie typed Claire’s blood and called out the entrance of the cave, “what’s yer blood type?”

Joe and Kevin almost fainted, pleading with Jamie to be very quiet.

Jamie stopped moving holding tubing and catheters. “Why, what’s amiss?”

“We’re surrounded by rebels Jamie, they want to kill us.”

“They’re gone, dinna worry.” He was moving fast again but felt the sudden tension in the air. He looked up and slowly behind him. The stock and silencer of a very large sniper rifle was inching into the cave.

“Put that gun down, ye dolt. This is my future wife in here fightin for her life and these brave men have protected her. What’s your blood type.”

The tip of the rifle suddenly pointed down and John Gray moved into the cave.

“Sorry, I’m a bit cranky with a hangover gentlemen. Meant no disrespect.”

Jamie was winding a strip of silver fabric around miniature forceps. He washed the wound and then packed it with the spirals of silver material. Joe and Kevin watched wide-eyed as he worked. When the wound was packed from both sides, he gingerly released the tourniquet and they all held their breath. No bleeding after five minutes, Jamie exhaled and sat next to his love.

John wanted to give Jamie some time alone so he pulled Claire’s friends outside. “Come out here and I’ll show you where I killed everyone.”

Jamie looked at the girl who stole his heart in under twenty-four hours and thanked God he got here in time.

“Sassenach, I’m here to get ye away safely. The guys are here, unharmed, so as soon as ye can, wake up. Ye need to drink whatever we can find. I’ll be givin ye a transfusion here in a couple minutes and ye’ll feel so much better after that.”

The absence of Cutter Anderson was not lost on Jamie. “Rest in peace,” he whispered.

By nightfall, Jamie had given two units of blood and needed to eat and rest for a few hours. John offered to find the hospital and steal whatever food he could find, and then he was gone.

“How can he do that? Just walk into the enemy territory alone?” Joe was in awe of both of these men.

Jamie gave a lazy half-smile, “I pity the blokes that are still there. And by the way, ye owe me, aye?” Jamie laid on the ground next to Claire and closed his eyes. “Yer gonna promise me that if she follows ye again, it will be sandy beaches, perfect weather, culture, and things to learn”. He looked directly at Joe, “where she will never be scared like this again. Otherwise, I leave ye here.”

John came back loaded with food and water. As expected, the rebels had cleared out quickly, taking most of the medical supplies with them. The men ate in silence, each fighting the fears in their head, wondering how they would ever get out of there.

“Why are they so determined to kill us for Christ's sake? Haven’t they had enough with all the dead at the hospital?”

Joe looked at the ground, not expecting there could be an answer, hoping it would become too risky to keep hunting them. John had killed at least a dozen of their men. Maybe it was enough to scare them away.

“Plausible deniability,” Jamie’s voice was low and exhausted. “Ye witnessed the massacre. If anyone wanted to prosecute, which they won’t, you could hang them all with what ye saw. In other words, it’s not over.”

Later, John sat next to Joe who was shaking hard, teeth chattering, and a glazed look in his eyes. When he felt for a pulse, Joe looked down like he didn’t understand.

“Don’t be mad, dear boy, this is the cure to what ails you. Look up!” The knee jerk reaction to that command was to look up, and John blew white powder into his nose from an outstretched palm.

Kevin launched into the cave after relieving himself. “I fuckin hate going out there, I can’t see anything!”

“And they cannot see you,” John told him. “I am taking my post outside to give you all a secure lullaby. Can you sleep, or do you need help?”

Kevin looked up at him, mid-yawn, “what?”

“Never mind.”

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spilledinkstories · 4 years ago

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Be A Time Lord, and Pass Your Own Vibe Check

I’ve struggled to put together a review for this, but I’ve taken an interest in this kind of writing recently, so...here goes. I promised myself I would review the books I read this year lol, and...

I started reading a couple “self help” books this year.

And “Stop Doing That Sh*t” by Gary John Bishop is kind of the self help book for people who don’t want to be dazzled by, well, bullshit.

Rather than trying to shower you with glitter and sprinkles, platitudes and promises that you hold the keys to your future...you know, the kind of stuff you think some infomercial guy might turn into an audiobook with serene music in the background...

yeah, this isn’t that.

This guy shoves your own nonsense in your face and says “ya like the smell of that cookin’?”

He basically says “waddup nerd, this is your psychology and you should make an effort to understand it, so you can accept it.”

There’s literally a quote toward the end where he says the most pure form of human acceptance is the general way we perceive a lightbulb: not positive, not negative, we literally have no opinion on if its good or bad, it is just a lightbulb. Or a clothes hamper. It’s just a hamper. No “charge or reaction to” the thing, is how he phrases it. It just is, and we give it no second thoughts.

And he says that’s how you need to learn to view your insecurities and negative thoughts toward the world. You can’t outrun, outsmart, or outwork the core conceptions (there are 3, and he spends a lot of time explaining them, but basically deep-rooted values that colour how you’ve trained yourself to “survive”. they’re usually negative beliefs, and they are central to how you behave). So he says understand and accept them, and you can pivot away from certain reactions because you’ll be able to see them coming.

Like, that’s the book.

It doesn’t dare you to stop hitting your snooze button.

It doesn’t bring up running marathons, or hitting a personal best in weight lifting or getting through your never ending to-be-read pile because you’ll finally start reading in the evening instead of watching TV.

He doesn’t point to a path that he thinks will be your version of success. It’s more like “you know your own dreams, and here’s why you’ve been standing in your own way”, and I find psychology interesting so it was an interesting take on this kinda stuff.

Literally he says you should just work on being self-aware for a while. Why don’t you want to try with things that you say you want? He calls it “self sabotage” and it’s to do with the core negative beliefs you hold.

He spends the last lil chunk of the book saying once you’ve got that down, you know what core beliefs tend to make you throw everything to the dogs (like being insecure or fearing you’re not enough stopping you from taking great job opportunities or maintaining healthy relationships, or just allowing yourself to be yourself with your friends), you need to learn to accept that you can have a great life.

A quote he puts in is “How good can you stand it”, which weirdly is something I thought about before reading this? That’s a bit “self-helpy”, I get that, but like...if you could have a so called “perfect” life, your absolute dream life...then what? would you be able to keep it? This guy is a life coach and he says it’s a super real problem.

He says you get addicted to your beliefs. So if you believe life is a struggle, absence of struggle in your life can make you uncomfortable because it would force you to find a new definition of life, causing you to self destruct (gamble away money, ruin relationships, etc), because self destructing puts you back at square one which is comfortable. It allows you to maintain damaging beliefs (yeah this book is brutally honest at times lol).

He literally says people self destruct because it allows them to avoid growth/change, and stay comfy.

The last bit, I really liked, and it reminded me a bit of another book Atomic Habits by James Clear, kind of about identifying yourself with what you want, not what you have been.

He throws in a quote that goes something like “we assume the past drives the future”, that those core beliefs and preconceived notions dictate what is possible for later life. That you can’t break the cycle, that time is linear.

He suggests instead to really hold in your mind’s eye what you want: career, living situation, partner, blah blah blah, and then break that down into milestones, and then into baby steps, and then start walking.

forget what systems you lived by before, cause they don’t work. You’ll stay stuck.

He argues not to predict your future based on now, but to dream a future and then start peeling away everything that isn’t that.

He uses the example of Michelangelo chipping away everything that wasn’t the statue of David, as he famously said he believed David to be underneath all that rock the whole time. He gets into this because I guess we all grow up with caps on what we deem possible - our parents made this much, so we aim for X, and too much excess is just out of bounds. Which I guess makes sense (and as a personal aside I disagree with his statement that “gratitude has been done to death”. Knowing how to be happy with a little is important, I think. Define your values and know what matters).

Use the future to inform your next steps, he’s saying, and recognize your own wiring and internal monologue, so you can sense your own bullshit from a mile away and do one of those pivots that Ross is so fond of. So if you do get the life you dreamed of, you don’t screw it up once you're there.

You have the backbone to find a new dream.

***

Cons:

he doesn’t say much about positivity, which ironically I really felt the lack of, even though going in he promised none of it and I found it refreshing.

I think that if you’re gonna pay this much attention to your own thought patterns, you should build in habits of gratitude and like...recognition of all the things that can and do go right. I think for some people, a starting point of “lemme see everything I’m doing wrong in my mind” could go sideways pretty quickly. If you’re new to that kind of thing, I would say approach it slowly and with caution and take breaks. You’re not setting out to beat yourself up. Just observe. Don’t judge. Take field notes, and do experiments with reacting differently to things and take field notes again. Let yourself be.

I also don’t think that you should ignore your intuition. There are times where it’s good to pass on relationships or opportunities or jobs. Don't push yourself to do things for the wrong reasons - I guess that would count as self sabotage too.

TL;DR He’s really just saying get to know yourself so you can steer your own ship effectively.

Anyway.

This was way more rant-y than I intended it to be but oh well this is my blog lol.

2020/Covid/suddenly living in the slow lane led me to do some internal maintenance this year, and I've been interested in being responsible for my own psychology for years, so...I thought I’d share my thoughts. :)

also it is late there are probably spelling mistakes too bad lol

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eveningcatcher · 5 years ago

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Portia x Muriel headcanon

"Pepi, are you there?" Portia called out to her beloved kitten, "Don't go too far away, okay?"

Pepi sat down on the grass, purring.

"It might be dangerous, you know?" She crouched and started collecting some plants, "So we're going back as soon as we collect herbs for Mazelinka, got it?"

The cat meowed, walking away deeper into the forest.

"Just don't go far away, okay?" She continued to pluck plants.

"Let's see... I got Chamomile but I also need, what was it called once again..." she rubbed her temple with the clean hand, trying to remember the plant's name, " Rhodiola, yeah, that's it. If I remember correctly, Mazelinka told me it grows a bit deeper in the forest," she stood up, putting the herbs into the basket, " Pepi!" She called, " Come on girl, we're going on an adventure!" Just as she was about to call her cat once more, the little siamese came out of the bush with a little branch in its mouth.

"Aw, did you find this for me?" She pats the cat's head, "Thank you, you're an amazing dear. Let's go now," she pointed forward, "Into the forest! And possible danger, but who cares?" She started talking to the cat, "It's more interesting that way, you know? Maybe we'll find a ghost or something like that. That would be so cool!" She said, her eyes gleaming, "Girl, think about it," she lowered her head to the cat, who just stared at her, "That would be- oh look!" She walked a bit on the left from the path, "I think this is the plant!" Pepi sat down, grooming herself as Portia cut the plant by the handle, "Babouche said that mushrooms are growing in the forest, wanna go and find them with me, Pepi?"

"Mroow."

"Let's go! Don't ask where 'cause I don't know," she giggled by the end of the sentence, " On the bright side if we get lost we can always orient by the stars during the night." She chuckled nervously, "You'd protect me, wouldn't you?"

Pepi meowed in approval, jumping on Portia as she tried to climb to her shoulder, burying her claws gently in her clothes.

"What's wrong dear?" She pats Pepi's head, looking in the direction her beloved cat is hissing, and she realised something was wrong. A giant black wolf was walking to them, with a gleam of curiosity in its bright yellow eyes.

Portia stood there, not daring to even flinch. She knew that sudden reactions won't help, so she slowly started to back off as she held her cat still.

The wolf noticed her getting away, so it started to walk closer, fixing its gaze on Portia. It walked slowly as if it were a bit scared of Portia herself.

"Easy there," Portia said as she raised her unoccupied hand, trying not to disturb the animal, "I don't want to fight, okay?" she gave the wolf a worried smile.

The wolf sat down, shifting its head.

"I'll be going now, alright?" Portia took the opportunity and picked up the speed.

The wolf seemed to notice, so it stood up and walked to Portia, whimpering.

"I..." Portia looked at Pepi for advice, who just meowed and hopped off her shoulder, starting to play with the wolf.

"Weren't you the one who was scared of her?" Portia giggled, "Mazelinka won't believe me when I tell her who I've met in this forest," she pats the wolf, " Oh, aren't you a good girl? Sorry for being scared of you," she crouched to the wolf, combing its fur with her fingers, "Your fur is so soft..." she smiled as she stood up, "Sorry but we have to go. Come on Pepi," she snapped her fingers twice, " Say goodbye to the wolf and let's get going." She waited for Pepi to nuzzle her head on the wolf, saying her farewell to the tame wolf.

"Now, off we go!" she smiled as she continued the conversation with Pepi, as if nothing happened, "You know, I hope the mushrooms I took aren't poisonous," she giggled, "I can't remember if Babouche said that the mushrooms had a dark brown colour," she stopped talking for a moment, trying to recall the conversation she had with Babouche. After a couple of moments, she brushed the thought off and continued talking, "Guess we'll find out at Mazelinka's."

She would continue with her chatter if she didn't hear someone walking behind her. She quickly turned, adrenaline running through her veins, only to find that it was a false alarm.

"Oh, it's you," she smiled at the wolf, "Whatcha doing here buddy?" she continued walking, with the wolf and Pepi following right behind her, "Sorry, but I don't have any treats on me, so you should look for food somewhere else. Come on," she pointed at the forest, "Pepi and I will visit, right girl?"

"Meoww."

"See? Now go, to your family and...friends?"

The wolf walked right in front of Portia, tilting its head to the side, giving Portia the saddest look. Soon enough, the wolf was not the only one who looed at Portia imploringly; Pepi joined, sitting to the wolf's left, pleading not only with sad eyes but also with her constant meowing.

"Ugh, fine, we'll stay," the animals looked at her with utter joy, the wolf howling happily as Pepi walked around her legs, meowing happily.

"We won't stay for long though," she started explaining to the animals like she would explain it to her brother, "Because if we do, Mazelinka will get us with her spoon," she shivered at the thought as she followed the wolf who lead them back into the forest, "There is no mightier weapon than that wooden spoon," she laughed as she tried to imitate Mazelinka's voice, "Made from the full palm wood and older than the two of you rascals," she giggled.

"Meow," Pepi got in front of Portia, looking for Mazelinka, "Mrrow?"

"She is not here, cutie. It was just me."

Then, out of nowhere, the wolf started barking happily as she ran past Portia, nearly knocking her over.

"Ow, slow down," she flinched as she looked at who the wolf ran to. A giant man, who must have been at least half a meter taller than she bent down to the wolf, giving it a pet. With a low, scratchy voice, he said, "Inanna, I have been looking everywhere for-" he raised his head, looking straight at the girl.

"Um, hello there," she gave the man a gentle smile, "Her name is Inanna?"

"..." the man stared at her for a moment, then let out a sigh, "If you went right behind you, you'll get out of the forest."

"Don't worry, I'm not lost."

"Then leave. The forest is dangerous, you'll end up hurt."

"Oh please," she brushed off his comment, "This forest fears me!" she puffed her chest, forgetting how she got terrified of the wolf just an hour ago.

"..." he just stared at the short girl with a smile, "Says the girl who collected poisonous mushrooms."

"So they are poisonous," she giggled, "But I was told the mushrooms were brown..."

"You're probably looking for Maitake mushrooms."

"Yes," she snapped her fingers, her eyes glowing, "That's what they are called! Could you please lead me to where they grow?"

"...Fine," he sighed, "But then leave."

"Alright, alright, I promise," she said as she dropped the poisonous mushrooms on the ground, following the man, "So, you know the forest well?"

"Yes."

"That's... great, and useful," she smiled to him, a bit nervous at how stiff the man is around her, "Honestly," she started talking to the man, trying to break the silence, "When Pepi and I first saw Inanna, we were terrified, haha."

"She means no harm."

"Oh, we realised that," she smiled, "I didn't catch your name, sir."

"..." he was silent for a moment, but decided to respond to the chatty girl, "Muriel."

"Well, thank you, Muriel, for helping us! It means a lot. I'm Portia!"

He was silent for a moment, not knowing how to respond to her kindness, so he just changed the topic, "We're here," he gestured at the mushrooms.

"Already?" she started to collect the mushrooms, "I guess that the time does fly with a great company," she smiled.

"I...guess," his cheeks flushed, "You're... not that bad," he returned the smile.

"Aw, thank you, you're so kind," she giggled as she struggled to take a particular mushroom, "You're not going to take any?"

He just shook his head in response.

"Why not, there is enough mushrooms for at least seven people, plus if you cut them like this," she showed him as she cut the mushroom with a knife, "It will grow back by the next morning. As long as you don't take the root, too, of course."

"I just... don't have the will to collect mushrooms now..."

"Oh, if that's the case, then I'll cut them for you! Here," she gave him half of the mushrooms she collected, "This should be enough for the both of us!"

"...Thanks."

"I should be thanking you, Muri, for showing me a way to this place," she walked alongside him, giving him a friendly pat to the back, "You're so kind!"

"Don't, don't call me that."

"Why not? The nickname is cute, just like you~" she giggled, "You know there's no need to be dense around me, alright?" she told him, as she admired the silence of the forest.

It seemed that the more she was in there, the more familiar the forest seemed to be. All of these mysteries regarding this rumoured forest intrigued her, and her interest peaked when she met Muriel. This soft giant is something else. He is so distant and a bit cold for Portia's taste, however, she felt like she could spend a day beside him, not doing anything.

"So, where do you live?"

"That's none of your business."

"Come on, don't be like that, I would like to hang out with you sometime," she admitted.

"...You're weird," he responded after a short silence.

She didn't take his words to heart, instead, she raised her unoccupied hand to her heart, pretending to be hurt, "Are you saying I'm a bad company?"

"No," he shook his head, "I'm just saying you shouldn't trust strangers. For all you know, I could be a murderer."

"Oh please, as if you would do anything bad to me."

"But what if-"

"Sh," she placed her index finger over her lips, "Stop making excuses! If you don't want to- oh my gosh!" she stopped midsentence, walking to a bush next to her, "Is that... a chicken?!?"

She crouched right next to the chicken, extending her hand.

"What are you doing?" Muriel asked her.

"I'm showing her my hand so that she could sniff it!" her eyes gleamed, "I don't want it to be scared of me."

"It's not a dog, there is no need for that," he crouched beside her, "Also Yolky is not shy, just don't make any sudden movements and it should be fine."

"Yolky?" she asked, carefully taking the chicken in her hands, "Is this your chicken? Did it get lost?"

"It's not my chicken, it's more like a... neighbour."

"Neighbour?" she looked at him, "So you live in a forest?"

He nodded hesitantly while giving the chicken a little pet.

"That's so amazing! Did you make a house in here?"

"Yes," he nodded, blushing.

"On your own?" she asked, hugging the small chicken, not letting it get out of her tight grasp.

"Well yes, but it's not that impressive."

"Don't be like that! You should have more confidence! Making a house on your own, in the middle of the forest is amazing!"

"Mrrow," Pepi walked in between Portia and Muriel, nuzzling her head on the chicken.

"Oh, fudge! I'll be late! Mazelinka will kill me!" she put the chicken down and stood up, "Say, do you want to come with me to the Mazelinka? She's my honorary grandma!"

"I don't think I should..."

"Nonsense, she'll love you, trust me!" she grabbed his hand, tugging him with her, "Plus her soup is truly something else! You have to try it."

"I have some things I need to take care of," he said, thinking about all of the protection trinkets he needs to make.

"Oh, if that's so, then I guess I'll see you later," she said sadly as she walked back to town, "Bye, hope to see you soon!"

Muriel didn't go immediately, instead, he waited for her to get out of sight, into the streets of Vesuvia. He turned back and, along with Inanna, went into his hut. This day was quite out of the ordinary, but he didn't care. He knew she won't be able to remember him, which made him feel a bit gloomy. Even though she was a bit too talkative for him, she seemed like a good person. He shook the thoughts away, knowing it won't do him any good. This is the path he has chosen to go down to, there is no time for regrets now.

This is for the best, he thought as he picked up some herbs from the table, For both me and her.

As he walked out of his hut, back into the forest, he continued with his thoughts:What good would it be even if she stayed around? She would run away as soon as she would find out the truth... As she should.

He decided that thinking too much about her was doing nothing to his benefit, so he focused all of his attention on making the protection trinkets. Time passed by, but Muriel didn't notice, nor did he care. He just enjoyed the silence, the sound of the wind, the smell of the grass after the rain. Yes, this is where he belongs.

"You know magic?!?" Portia asked him.

"What the," he flinched when he saw the girl crouching right next to him.

"How long have you been here?"

"About..." she put her index finger on her lips, "Let's see... fifteen minutes."

"Fifteen minutes?!? What have you been doing for fifteen minutes? Why didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't want to disturb you," she explained, "You looked so into what you were doing, so I just waited for you to finish it. What is that anyway?" she pointed at the protection trinket, "Are you putting a curse on someone?" her eyes gleamed at the thought.

"What? No, it's just a protection trinket," he dug some dirt, taking an old trinket out, "After some time, the magic in the trinket weakens, mostly because of someone trying to break in," he frowned, thinking of a certain goat man.

"Wow, that's so great!" she carefully observed him burying the new trinket, "Can you teach me?"

"I don't see how you could be interested in this," he shrugged, having a question on his mind. How is she able to remember him?

"Oh, please~" she begged him, "Wait, is that something like a family secret that I'm not supposed to know?"

"It's nothing special... But if you want to learn that badly-"

"Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!" she put a flask down and gave him a tight hug. She pulled away, handing him the flask, "I felt bad for not giving you any of Mazelinka's soup, so I brought some for you."

He took the flask, and felt the familiar smell of myrrh, "Thank you. Here," he handed her some myrrh from his pocket, "I assume you've already noticed, but people... forget me."

"Oh, I thought I just had a headache or something like that," she flushed from embarrassment, "Why does that happen? Are you cursed?"

"I... guess you could call it that."

"You poor, thing," she covered her lips with her hands, "Is that why you put these protection trinkets?"

"Let's just put the matter aside," he sighed, not knowing how to explain his situation to her, "If you have myrrh around you should be able to remember me."

"Oh, that's one of the ingredients in the soup!"

"I noticed," he said, "The one who made it is great at green magic," he smiled.

"Green magic?" she asked him, "Mazelinka knows magic? What's green magic?"

"Green magic is like... friendly magic," he didn't know what he was talking about, but he didn't stop, "It's not flashy, but it's more of a... family type of magic, the one to..."

"Calm you down?"

"Something like that," he smiled as he continued to explain everything he knew about green magic.

#saveportia #portia #muriel #the arcana #portia x muriel

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rhub4rb · 5 years ago

Text

Me, Just me

Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6

So uhh, the story is starting kinda slow-paced??? sorry??? it won’t be like this forever I promise--

-_-_-_-

“Girl, what has gotten into you lately?” Alya asked.

Marinette had been spaced out for the good majority of the week. At first, Alya had thought she was finally stopping with the Lila hate, but then she realized that Marinette still refused to sit with them during lunch.

“Hm?” Marinette perked up, looking at Alya.

Truth be told, it was because she had been thinking about all the possible schools for her to transfer to. She had been looking all week, but for the time being, she had come up with nothing. It wasn’t that Marinette looked for something in particular, but now that she was actually going to transfer, she wanted to go to a place where she knew she would actually be happy to be, even if she ended up friendless and alone.

So far, she had no luck, but she wasn’t giving up!

“You need to lay off with Lila, Girl, this can’t be good for you, and it’s certainly not good for her.” Alya said.

Marinette clenched her hand but kept her facial expression neutral.

She had stopped considering Alya a friend a while ago, probably after she wrote the letters, but she wasn’t going to start an unnecessary confrontation because Alya was being rude.

“It’s nothing, I’ve just been working on some new designs.” Marinette said, giving a small, polite smile.

Alya nodded, looking skeptical, before leaving Marinette alone at her desk, heading towards Lila and a good chunk of the class.

Marinette sighed. This was getting exhausting. She looked down at her desk in thought, before nodding, deciding with herself.

If she couldn’t find a school at the end of the day, she thought she would fall in love with, then she would just settle with whatever would bring her away from Dupont.

Maybe she was just too picky? If Marinette had just made a choice already, then she wouldn’t have had to be there now. She wouldn’t have to listen to Alya complain about her, the others in her class whisper about her, Lila lying about her.

It was getting straining to stay.

Marinette looked out the window and watched the streets of Paris a bit, at least what she could see of it.

She mattered. It might not have felt like it in the moment, and yet she knew this. Somewhere, out there, someone would miss her. She mattered.

Marinette kept repeating that to herself until school ended, more determined than ever to get away from Dupont.

“Ugh, this is hard Tikki!” Marinette exclaimed as she drooped in her chair.

The first thing Marinette did once she got home was go to her computer and start searching again, but with little luck.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to find something Marinette, you just need to have a little patience and not give up.” Tikki said. Marinette just groaned in response.

“I don’t even know what it is I’m looking for, at this point. I feel as if I’d be happy with anything as long as it doesn’t have Lila in it.” Marinette continued to rant.

She had already been looking for a week, and her parents had too. It was getting annoying at this point.

“I want to find a good school, but I never thought-“

“Marinette?” Sabine called from downstairs, cutting Marinette off. “Nadja is here, she has something exciting to share with you!”

Marinette looked at Tikki curiously, who only shrugged in response. What did Nadja possibly have to share with her?

Marinette walked down to the living room, where her mother and Nadja sat, Tom most likely being downstairs and taking care of the bakery while the two women talked.

“Ah, Marinette,” Nadja smiled at her gently. ”Your parents told me about what was going on at your school. I’m sorry to hear it.” She said sympathetically.

Marinette just smiled awkwardly, not sure what to say.

“It’s okay, there’s not much you could do about it anyway.”

Nadja nodded, not looking satisfied with this fact. Then she perked up, seemingly remembering what it was she wanted to tell Marinette.

“I’ve found something you might find useful.” Nadja said as she pulled out what looked to be a brochure. “Your parents told me you had been struggling with finding a new school to go to, and I remembered I had wanted to show you this a while back, before all of this mess was a thing.”

She handed Marinette the brochure, who read it over.

Académie Voltaire, school for the creative arts.

Marinette opened it, a little more interested in its contents than she had been before.

“It’s expensive.” Nadja said, cutting through Marinette’s awe as she read about the academy. “But it’s possible to get a scholarship.”

“Even this late into the year?” Marinette asked.

“There should be.” Nadja smiled at Marinette, placing a hand on Marinette’s shoulder. “You have an impressive resumé, Marinette, and you’re very talented. I have no doubt in my mind that you’ll be able to get in.”

“I- I don’t know what to say-! Thank you so much!” Marinette threw her arms around Nadja, hugging her tightly, meanwhile Sabine and Nadja shared a look over her shoulder.

Académie Voltaire was- way out of her league.

The school itself was an old chateau in great size, made of old bricks with vines climbing up the walls. There was a big fountain at the front, and gardens with flowers in every color of the rainbow decorated the grounds.

It had a focus on creative arts, all the way from composing to fashion design. The first years were 11 and the 7 years were 18. Some, if not most of the students at the school start from the very beginning, but it wasn’t unheard of to start later.

Everything in Marinette screamed that it was her dream school, but Nadja really wasn’t lying when she said it was expensive.

She wasn’t going to give up though, even if, at the moment, it felt like her chances of getting in were close to none.

Marinette read over the scholarship requirements, and the things that could help her get in. She wanted the odds to be with her in this, and that meant doing everything she could to higher her chances.

First, she needed to make a portfolio of what she felt was her best work, then she needed to write a 5000-word essay on why she deserved to get in, and if she could get it, a recommendation letter.

The most daunting task was most definitely her portfolio. It wasn’t that she thought she was a bad designer, but the thought of real professionals judging her work, deciding whether or not she was good enough to get in was absolutely terrifying.

The recommendation letter was… a different issue.

Marinette didn’t want the others to know about this. They couldn’t. But she feared that if she asked Mme. Bustier to write a recommendation letter, the others would find out and that… wasn’t a fun thought.

Of course, she could always just ask Mme. Bustier to keep quiet about it. Mme. Bustier might ask why, but Marinette could just say that she didn’t want the others to now before she was certain that she got in.

That… could probably work.

With her decision made, Marinette found every sketchbook she had for design, and got to work.

Convincing Mme. Bustier to keep quiet about the recommendation letter was surprisingly easy. Marinette had a slight feeling that Mme. Bustier knew what was going on in the class, but she didn’t mention it.

What else had been surprising was finding Adrien waiting for her outside of the classroom.

“Hey Mari.” He said. He looked… sad.

“Hey, what’s up?” She asked, smiling politely.

“I uh… I thought I could walk you home today. If you wanted, I mean.”

Before, Marinette would probably have stammered off, most likely thanking him profusely too, but not now... Now, she just smiled and nodded.

“Was there something you wanted to talk to me about?” Marinette asked.

Adrien hadn’t really talked to her unless necessary for a while now. At first, Marinette wasn’t sure why he was avoiding her like everyone else, but then she overheard Nino talking to him about how being seen talking to her was a bad idea.

“Yeah, actually…” He looked down, seemingly unsure. “Are you okay? You’ve been… different, this past week.”

“I’m fine.” She said, with a slightly strained smile. “Just had a lot on my mind is all.”

“What did you need to talk to Mme. Bustier about?” Adrien asked.

“I just needed her help with something, nothing to worry about.” Marinette explained, without going into detail.

Adrien looked hesitant, and if Marinette wasn’t already so done with Dupont and everyone in her class, she probably would have been concerned. As of now though, Marinette had seen no sign of Adrien being as concerned for her as he was for Lila.

“You… You know you can talk to me, right? About anything.” He said.

“I know.” Marinette replied, but didn’t say anything else. Just because, theoretically, she could tell him anything, didn’t mean she was going to.

Adrien looked slightly hurt at her refusal to talk, but he didn’t say anything about it.

The atmosphere was awkward and tense, and once upon a time, Marinette would have tried to ease up the tension, but for now, she was fine with walking in stifling silence. She didn’t have to use her words on him if she didn’t want to. Clearly, the feeling was mutual.

“Well,” Adrien said. “We’re here.”

Marinette nodded in acknowledgement, gave him an awkward wave, before heading inside, not sparing him a second glance.

“You’ve really messed up this time, Kid.” Plagg said, after Marinette had disappeared.

Adrien sighed. “I know.”

“You told her you were in this together.” Plagg said.

Adrien sighed again, this time with clear frustration lacing its tone. “I know.”

“You knew something was wrong-“ Plagg started to say but was interrupted by Adrien.

“Yes, Plagg, I messed up big time! But what do you want me to do?” Adrien exclaimed, trying to keep his volume down as people walking past looked at him questionably.

“Geez Kid, calm down.” Plagg said. “Have you ever considered, I don’t know, apologizing to the girl?”

“How am I gonna do that when she doesn’t even want to talk to me?” Adrien asked.

“She seemed pretty polite despite everything, Kid, I’m sure she’d hear you out if you explained.” Plagg tried to reason.

“You don’t know her like I do, Plagg. That may have seemed polite, but Marinette has never been this cold to me before.” Adrien worried.

“Well I don’t really know, and I don’t really care, as long as you start heading home so I can get some food to eat.” Plagg said, though that wasn’t completely true. He did care for Tikki’s holder, she seemed like a good kid, but it was clear Adrien wasn’t going to listen to him at this point.

So, he just sighed and hoped things would get better by itself.

“Adrien seemed worried about you, Marinette.” Tikki said, once Marinette had gotten up to her room and let Tikki out of her purse.

“I know but… I guess I just… don’t care anymore?” Marinette sighed, slumping down in her chaise. “It’s confusing though, and a little infuriating really. He turns a blind eye when he sees everyone ganging up on me, but the moment he can talk to me alone without any preying eyes, he suddenly cares?” Marinette shrugged as she tried to explain to her kwami. “It just feels… fake to me, I guess.”

Tikki nodded at her chosen’s explanation. When put that way, it did sound kind of bad.

“But it seems like he feels bad about it, doesn’t it?” Tikki asked, trying to mend the broken bond between the two holders.

“It feels more like pity to me.” Marinette mumbled bitterly.

If Adrien wasn’t going to talk to her where the others could see, then she saw no reason to talk to him when they were alone. He made his choice, he didn’t get to ignore her struggles and then act like he cared, that just felt half-assed and ingenuine.

“Ladybug should always be forgiving.” Tikki tried.

“What is there to forgive if he doesn’t seem apologetic?” Marinette asked. “I’m not going to try if he isn’t, that’s not fair to me. I’m tired of being forgiving, simply for the fact that I have to be the better person.”

Tikki was quiet after that.

-_-_-_-_-

@magnitude101999 @starry-bi-sky @kaydenth3gayden @kuroko26 @uninspired-writer

#ml salt #marinette dupain cheng #marinette #me just me #ml fic #miraculous ladybug #mlb

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ddaengyoonmin · 6 years ago

Text

Chapter 3

Pairing: Jungkook x reader, Taehyung x reader, eventual Ot7 x reader in later chapters

Genre: fluff (not really in this chapter), angst, uhh maybe smut eventually??

Theme: Based kinda on sword art online a lot of similar ideas and themes kinda combining the idea of them trapped in the game, but the world is closer to ALFheim online

Word count : 1.9k

Warnings: Swearing?..I swear a lot it can’t be contained. Mentions of death, Panic attacks,

a/n : I realize in this chapter I’m taking a lot from the plot of SAO, I feel like I have to explain it more than I’d like to, most people probably already know what happens in SAO ( I did try to make some changes) but for the sake of people that may not know, and the characters and their personal feelings and reactions to what happens I’m gonna go into detail about it all. I swear I’m gonna deviate a bit in later chapters and make it my own. I just gotta set the scene for all of this and it’s taking longer than I wanted lmao, its my first fic okay, of course I got in over my head lmaooo

next -> Chapter 4

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“I’ll show you the way” he said with a grin. But something seemed off about that grin, there was worry hidden behind it. You didn't like this at all..

Kookie had taken your hand and led you to the town square that the emergency notice had instructed everyone meet at. It was a quiet walk that took about 30 long, worrisome minutes. Neither of you exchanging many words besides an “It’ll be okay” from Kookie a few times when he’d glance at your nervous face.

When you arrived there were thousands of others filing in. The golden colored stone courtyard in the middle of the town was more than big enough to space everyone, yet you found your anxiety growing bigger and bigger as more people flooded through the walkways leading into the town.

You had been fine when it was just you and Kookie, you’d started to think maybe you really did like being around people. This crowd was not to your liking though, it only heightened all the panic you were already starting to feel.

Maybe it was that fear, or maybe it was the fear that you had no idea why you couldn't log out of this game, but something pushed you to grab Kookie’s arm and hold it tight.

He didn’t seem to mind, he didn’t look at you though. His eyes scanning the crowd of other worried faces, turning his head to try and listen in to others’ conversations”

“I tried to contact support but there's no button for it!” A large fairy with wolf ears and gray wings complained

“I’m sure my mom will just turn the thing off soon and i’ll snap out of it! Dammit! they told me not to be on past 8” a small red winged fairy whined.

“This is so stupid, you’d think with all the money I spent on this they’d have fixed this all by now” someone Kookie couldn’t quite see sounded out from behind you both.

Kookie sighed and puts a hand over one of your hands that gripped his arm. Finally looking at you he tried to assure another “It’ll be okay” and that one was the most insincere sounding one yet.

His own fear starting to break the calm and relaxed composure he was trying to maintain for your sake. You wished you could maintain your own calm and relaxed facade. You’ve had to be brave before for many things and you’d always handled it pretty well.

But this, felt different. The whole aura here was off in a way that made you feel slightly sick to your stomach and if it weren’t for the fact that this is where you’d met your new friend Kookie, the first friend you’ve had in years...you feel that you would wish you’d never even opened the box for this damn game.

A loud noise resembling a gong interrupted your train of thought. Causing gasps and many jumps and various noises from the crowd of thousands.

A bolt of lightning slowly shot through the now somewhat darkened ,red sky and the crowd shifted its attention to that direction.

A dark smoke started to creep from all over and assemble into a figure in the spot where everyone was focused. The figure had to be about 100 feet tall, hovering in the sky above the square. It was only a silhouette, but you could distinctly make out that it had the head of a wolf and the body of a human, with a long flowing cloak that sat on its shoulders, extending far past its feet.

Your grip on Kookie’s arm tightened even more at the appearance of this mysterious floating wolf in the sky.

“Good evening” Its voice boomed out “I am Fenrir, head game maker. And ruler in this world,” it paused only briefly, “I suppose you are all wondering why the log out button seems to have disappeared from your menu screen. I can assure you it is not a glitch, it is completely intentional”

A series of shocked noises rumbled over the crowd as they all took in the information that was just stated. You looked over at Kookie with wide eyes. He was focused intensely on the floating figure, brow furrowed and anger clear on his face.

“To explain further, this is how I designed the game. None of you can log out and if anyone from the real world attempts to remove or disconnect your headsets the high density microwave transceivers that have made this world feel like a reality” another erie pause, “Will fry your brain stem and end your reality here and in real life. You will die.”

The crowd erupts into even louder discussions and irritated banter with one another. You hear someone not to far from where you and Kookie stand yell out “Yeah fucking right man, I call bullshit freaky floating wolf man”

As if he heard that cry, or maybe it was the cries of many similar outbursts that had followed that he had heard, he spoke again, “If you don’t believe me, I’d like to inform you that though I put out a warning on public broadcast, some player’s families also doubted my message and tried to remove their loved one’s headsets. I’d like to inform you all that this new game I’ve created contained 12,000 players when I removed your option to leave, now it only contains 11,856. 144 players have been eliminated from the game...and from real life”

As he spoke that last sentence he waved a hand and the horrific proof appeared all over the sky. On at least 10 different screens floating in the sky were news broadcasts from all over the world. Stating exactly what he had said. Images and videos of families sobbing, and of people being interviewed in front of the office of the game creators of the full dive technology. Headlines reading:

“144 Dead in tragic gaming incident, 11,856 players still trapped in the game”

“Families grieve the loss of loved ones in horrific gaming incident, head game maker and CEO of new full dive technology missing”

“Faerie Realm traps 12,000 players in a deadly game”

You tore your eyes away, tears formed and your body started to shake. Your hands slipped from Kookie’s arm and traveled to your face holding your cheeks in horror.

Kookie was frozen staring at the screens, perhaps searching to see if he knew anyone who had died?

The screens disappeared and the dark figure spoke loudly again. You tried to focus your attention back on him but the ringing that had started in your ears made it difficult. You missed the majority of what he said, but managed to collect yourself only slightly enough to make out the last part.

“To put it more simply, you will now feel pain. And if you die here in the game, you die in real life, good luck to you all” Then the smokey figure evaporated.

You fell to your knees, hands on the stone floor of the courtyard, unable to contain your panic anymore. Tears fell in intense streams down your face as your body shook in a way it never had before. While struggling to catch your breath, two arms wrapped around you and pulled you up, Kookie held you tightly and close to his chest. “Shh..sh” he whispered while stroking your hair. In any other situation this intimate moment would feel totally inappropriate considering you'd only just met this man today. But you welcomed his touch as it really did seem to calm you down from the sheer panic you felt.

He took you by the shoulders and brought you where you could see his face. He was trying to mask it, and he definitely had been doing a decent job at it, but he was just as terrified as you were.

“We need to find my roommate” he said in a soft voice suddenly, “my...friend...my best friend...he should be here too...we came in together but decided to do our own thing...he's gotta be...no one would’ve been in our house to take off his headset so...he's gotta be...here…” His cracking voice let on to the panic he was feeling.

Your heart broke for him, you could tell his thoughts were racing faster than he could sanely handle, as he wondered if his friend could be among the already dead.

“Of course” you nod “go find him”

“I don’t think it’s best for me leave you alone, lets stick together okay?” he said, not really giving you an option as he grabbed your hand and franticly started dragging you through the crowd, looking over every face he passed by.

He came to a dead stop and yelled in pure overwhelming relief “TAEHYUNG!”

A seemingly tall, attractive man about your age with mint green hair, and shimmering emerald wings sticking out from his back was sat on a bench about 10 feet away, eyes glazed over and un-moving with his hands in his lap.

Kookie rushed over to the man and kneeled down to his level, “Hey man, holy shit, I was so worried,” The green haired man, Taehyung, you assumed, snapped out of his trance with a small shake of his head and stared at Kookie. “Jungkook...what...what the fuck is happening?” his face forming into an expression of terror.

Kookie, well...actually Jungkook as you’d just learned, embraced Taehyung in a quick hug and pulled him up off the bench.

“We gotta make some kind of a game plan dude, the game maker said the only way out of here alive was to beat the game, so shits probably about to get pretty crazy. When you complete a quest, boss challenge, or defeat a animal that’s on the list of required tasks to clear each level it disappears for good, and once all of them on each floor are taken out you can move on to the next level. 100 levels may take a long time to beat. Our best chance is to move quick. It’s going to be tough with people going around trying to snag all the best and easy loot and experience points once they realize that getting as strong as possible, as quick as possible, is the best strategy to stay alive” he rambled,

Taehyung nodded at Jungkook’s words but Jungkook could tell he didn’t fully understand what was being implied.

“I think we need to leave. Now. The longer we just stay camped out here wondering what’s going on like everyone else is right now, the less of a chance we have to be the ones to get the best chance of survival”

It clicks for Taehyung, his voice wavers

“Kook...Wouldn’t that...be kind of a dick move? Snagging up all of the best stuff before anyone else can get to it? If that’s the best way to survive shouldn’t we let everyone know?”

Jungkook shook his head sternly, “No. I only care about us making it out of here at this point.” he nodded his head towards you and then to Taehyung.

Did he really just say he didn’t care if anyone else died?

You studied Jungkook for a second, his mannerisms were changed from the charming, friendly, smiling man who showed you around the forest earlier today, he was stiffer and more rigid in his stance. You couldn’t even see panic on his face anymore, instead there was a strong look of determination.

You weren’t sure if you liked this Jungkook you were seeing now, but you couldn’t fully blame him for the drastic switch, people can change when they are thrown into survival mode, and this...was now life and death.

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snappedsky · 5 years ago

Text

Fanatics 71

The kids return to Skool, and it's an eventful first day back. Previous! Next!

New Year, Same Sh!t

“I cannot believe you all went to Irk without me!”

Zim, Dib, Gaz, Pepito, and Squee glare exhaustedly at Kat- Tak’s human disguise- as she blocks the entrance to the Skool. She glares right back, much more angrily.

“Give us a break, Tak,” Zim snaps as he shoves past her. “We’ve barely been home for a week and now we gotta go back to Skool.” “You didn’t even tell me you were leaving!” she barks as she follows them through the busy halls. “I only found out because of Maddie. I thought we were, you know, friends.”

“You’re right,” Squee says, “we are friends. And we should’ve at least said goodbye. We’re sorry.”

Kat’s glare withers ever so slightly and she huffs. “Fine. So, what’s got you all so tense?”

“A week ago we found out the Irken Empire sent assassins after us,” Dib replies, “we had no idea. If it wasn’t for Squee’s Night Terrors, they probably would’ve wiped us all out.” “Are they Irken Bounty Hunters?” Kat asks.

“I don’t think so,” Zim replies, “according to the Night Terrors, they were too easy to kill. Probably just academy-trained assassins.”

“Kio’s looking into it,” Squee explains, “but we’re not sure how to handle this. Obviously we can’t just let assassins try to kill us, which is why the Night Terrors are keeping watch. But soon the Tallest will figure out the assassins failed and send stronger opponents.”

“Well, you should’ve expected this,” Kat points out, “starting a war with the Irken Empire.” “We saved them first,” Gaz argues, “it’s not our fault they’re sore losers.” “And now we have to go to Skool like nothing happened,” Pepito groans.

“Keep your heads up, team,” Zim orders, “we’re back to our normal life and we will not let the Armada ruin it.” The others reply with uncertainty.

“I’ll see you guys at lunch,” Gaz grunts before splitting off. The others go upstairs to their lockers.

After everyone’s gathered their stuff, they head to homeroom at the sound of the bell. Zim and the others cluster together in desks near the window, along with Maddie. The other students quickly pick their desks as their teacher, Miss Sweeties, stands at the front of the room.

“Welcome back to Skool, everyone,” she chimes, “and a very special welcome back to Zim, Dib, Pepito, and Squee, who, due to ‘family issues’, were unable to attend Skool last year.”

“You guys completely skipped 11th grade,” Zita points out, “how did you not get held back?” “Um my guardian has a…‘rapport’ with the principle,” Squee replies while Zim, Dib, and Pepito chuckle knowingly.

After morning announcements are played over the intercom, the students leave for their classes. Maddie and Tak wave to the boys as they split off.

“It’s too bad we got stuck in the lower tier classes,” Dib comments, “it’ll be a smear on my record.” “Yeah, but at least we’re all in the same classes this year,” Pepito points out.

They arrive at their classroom and quickly pick their desks, again together near the windows. Standing behind the teacher’s desk is a younger man, pale and blond with fidgeting hands. He waits until everyone’s seated before speaking.

“G-good morning, students,” he says in a cracking voice. “I-I am your teacher, Mr. Tense. I will be teaching you maths and sciences.” “Who is this guy?” Pepito whispers.

“Don’t know. I’ve never had him,” Dib replies.

“B-because we’ll be spending a-a lot of time together, I’d like to start off by going around the room and h-hearing something about everyone,” Mr. Tense declares.

“Oh, god,” Squee groans, rubbing his forehead.

“We’ll start on this side of the room,” he says, pointing at Zim. “Please stand up and state your name and-and a fact about yourself.”

Zim stands up dutifully. “I am Zim and I will rule you all! But don’t worry, I’ll be a benevolent leader.”

“Uh o-okay, thank you, Zim,” Mr. Tense says as Zim sits back down and Pepito stands up.

“I’m Pepito, and I’m gonna be a rock star,” he says.

“Oh, a musician!” Mr. Tense smiles, “how nice.”

Pepito smiles as he sits down and the student behind him goes next, a cheerleader who goes on for a few minutes about how she loves manicures. As they continue down the row, Squee digs his hand into his forehead, dreading his turn.

Finally it’s the next row’s turn, and Dib starts off. “I’m Dib, the world’s greatest paranormal investigator.”

“And crazy person,” one of the students whispers loudly and the others giggle. But Dib ignores them as he sits back down, smiling proudly.

Squee stifles a heavy sigh as he stands up, squeezing Shmee inside his bag. “Uh I-I’m Squee a-and-.”

“What kind of a name is that?” another student sneers.

Squee takes a deep breath before continuing. “And I like to write.”

As he sits back down, Pepito shoots him a thumbs-up and he smiles gratefully.

The introductions continue throughout the classroom. A couple of students Zim and the others already know, like Willy, Poonchy, Carl, or Jessica; but many they’ve never met before. Not that anyone pays close attention to the introductions anyway.

Once everyone’s finished, Mr. Tense clears his throat. “I-it is wonderful to meet you all. I hope this will be a prosperous last year of High Skool for you all. Now then, let’s just dive right into math. Open you textbooks, please.”

The next hour is spent learning math. Mr. Tense is very non-inclusive and only reads the lesson directly from the textbook very stiltedly, or writes on the board. Which means the students are free to pay no attention.

Zim scrolls through his phone- which now, thanks to Kio, is connected to galactic wide news- and tries to find news on assassins coming to Earth. Dib is busy reading one of his new books on the supernatural; he missed out on a lot being in space. Determined to make original songs this year, Pepito is trying to write song lyrics. And Squee just stares through the window, somewhat absentmindedly, but his eyes still scan for the slightest threat.

Everyone is quite surprised when a hole is smashed through the ceiling and Mr. Fuck, with smeared make-up, torn clothes, and gashes and cuts, slams into the floor at the front of the classroom.

Screaming, the students all leap out of the desks while Mr. Tense nearly jumps out of his skin.

“Eff!” Squee exclaims.

Eff coughs as he sits up, dry wall dust and debris still falling around him. He glances at Squee and smiles and waves.

“Oh, hey, Little Boss. Don’t worry, the situation is completely under contro-.” He stops as he reaches for his hat and realizes it’s not there. “That asshole has my hat!” With that, he jumps up and disappears back through the hole onto the roof.

“O-okay,” Mr. Tense stammers, “do-don’t worry, kids. J-just exit into the hallway in an orderly fashion.” Nobody listens to him as the students race out of the classroom, except for Zim, Dib, Pepito, and Squee who look up through the hole.

“K-kids, we all need to leave,” Mr. Tense says to them and waves towards the door, but they ignore them.

They can hear shouting: the Night Terrors cursing and voices speaking in Irken. They spot an Irken fly past the hole and Reverend Meat leap after them.

“Assassins?” Pepito questions.

“No,” Zim growls, immediately recognizing the unique armor the Irken was wearing. “Irken Bounty Hunters.” “They’re gonna need help,” he declares, “Irken Bounty Hunters are specially trained killers and they always travel in groups. Do you all have your weapons?”

“Yes,” Squee nods as he draws his knives from his bag, along with Shmee.

“Me too,” Dib replies, rolling down the sleeve of his coat to reveal his bracelet.

“Got my weapons right here,” Pepito says as he clenches his fists and they start glowing black.

“Good,” Zim grunts as he extends his spider legs and grabs his laser guns.

“You guys go on ahead,” Dib says, “I’m gonna check on Gaz. We’ll catch up.” “Alright,” Zim nods as two of his spider legs reach up for the hole while Squee and Pepito grab the other two.

“Uhm,” Mr. Tense croaks, speechless as they disappear through the hole and Dib races past him into the hall.

The rooftop is a warzone. The Night Terrors are covered in injures and torn clothes but continue to hold their own against the seemingly five unstoppable Irkens. Their heavy armor has been cracked and damaged and their laser rifles are scattered in pieces. But they still have their PAKs and with their sharp spider leg appendages swinging around, the Night Terrors can’t get close.

“Pick a target,” Zim orders.

“I’ll help Eff,” Squee declares as he races off to help the Doughboy wrestling to keep a spider leg from impaling him.

“I’ll get Sickness,” Pepito says and hurries to her as she dodges an Irken’s striking attacks.

Zim spots Reverend Meat, struggling to hold off two Irkens. He grins and leaps forward on his spider legs, flying right for one of them. “Mine!”

Back in the Skool, none of the other classes are aware of the danger yet. Ms. Bitters is still busy teaching Gaz’s class history. She barely pays attention, doodling in the margins of her notebook.

The classroom slams open, startling everyone, and Dib races in. “Gaz!” “Dib?” she questions.

“Oh, fer-,” Ms. Bitters scoffs, “I thought not having you as a student meant I wouldn’t have to deal with your interruptions.” Dib ignores her as he hurries to Gaz’s desk. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she replies incredulously. “What’s going on-?” Before he can answer, Psycho Doughboy slams into the window outside, crying out as he falls to the ground.

All the students scream with surprise as they leap out of their desks, except for Dib and Gaz who just stare outside.

“You got your hammer?” Dib asks.

“No, but I have a bat in my locker,” Gaz replies.

“Get it,” he orders, “and meet us outside.”

Without another word, Gaz races off while Dib opens the window and climbs out. He lands beside D-boy just as he’s starting to sit up, rubbing his face, and they both look up.

An Irken leaps off the roof and plummets towards them, spider legs pointed down. Dib activates his bracelet, transforming it to his power glove, and readies a blast.

Meanwhile, as Gaz races to her locker, an announcement plays over the intercom.

“Attention, the Skool is under a state of emergency. Please evacuate to the street in a calm and orderly fashion.” In the other grade 12 classroom, Kat perks up while her classmates chatter curiously amongst themselves.

“Wonder what’s going on,” Maddie mutters as the teacher starts ushering everyone out. Kat ignores them and looks outside, activating her cybernetic eye. Immediately seeing the presence of five unknown Irkens, she growls.

The tide of battle really turns thanks to the Battalion. The Irken Bounty Hunters are now outnumbered, having to split their attention between one of the Night Terrors and one of the kids. But they still hold their own despite the odds, really showing their Irken strength and ingenuity.

Squee, Eff, and Shmee surround an Irken, his spider legs raised defensively. Squee goes in first with his rocket wheelies. As soon as he’s disappeared from sight, Eff and Shmee charge in.

The Irken blocks them with his spider legs while a buzz saw like weapon pops out of his PAK, protecting his head as he correctly predicts that Squee would strike from behind. He stops just before he can connect with the spinning blade but rebounds quickly, ducking down and knocking his leg into the Irken’s ankle, tripping him.

The Irken reacts quickly, blocking his head from hitting the roof and thrusting a spider leg at Squee. He dodges with ease by zipping around to his other end and charging in, knives up. Scowling, the Irken jabs all four of his spider legs towards him. Squee waits until the very last second before speeding backwards out of harm’s way, while Eff appears by the Irken’s head and swinging knives of his own.

Gasping, the Irken barely catches Eff’s hands with his own, keeping the blades inches from his face. Eff smirks and the Irken realizes he’s been duped as Shmee leaps off Eff’s head and pile drives the Irken’s stomach, smashing him through the roof.

Squee and Eff peek through the hole just as Shmee jumps back out, tossing the unconscious alien at Squee’s feet. They all smile victoriously at each other.

Meanwhile, another Irken is struggling to survive against Sickness and Pepito. She can’t match Sickness’s speed, so she keeps her spider legs close, not allowing her to strike. But she doesn’t even have time to focus on Sickness as she tries to dodge Pepito’s blasts.

He fires relentlessly, barely giving her time to think and move. Because of her agility, each one only grazes her, but one slip up and he’ll reduce her to dust.

She growls, getting sick of this, and withdraws her spider legs. But before her opponents can react, a small of pair of rocket thrusters extend from the bottom of her PAK and she blasts into the sky. Once she’s a few feet high, two of her spider legs extend again and she points them down, preparing to fire lasers.

Pepito smirks and his wings expand from his back, bursting through his shirt. Before the bounty hunter can fire her lasers, he flies up to her, hands glowing black. She ceases her laser power-up and instead uses her spider legs to block him. Locked in a parry, they glare at each other.

Sickness watches them for a second before crouching, tensing her leg muscles, and jumping into the air, cracking the ground beneath her. She flies up behind the Irken, who is unable to react, held in place by Pepito. Sickness lifts her leg and slams it onto the Irken’s head, sending her plummeting back down and through the roof of the Skool.

Pepito and Sickness land on either side of the hole and look in. The Irken is blacked out unceremoniously on top of some desks. Smirking, Pepito shoots Sickness a thumbs-up, and she good-naturedly rolls her eyes.

On the ground, Dib and D-boy are having trouble getting a hit in against their opponent. The bounty hunter keeps them at bay with his spider legs while also dodging the blasts from Dib’s power glove.

The Irken lunges his spider legs at them, two for each. D-boy blocks his two with his giant mallet while Dib catches one with his glove and barely dodges the other; he winces as it slices a bit through his side.

The Irken tries to retract his appendages but Dib keeps good grip on one as he charges a blast. He destroys the spider leg and the bounty hunter stumbles back in pain. Scowling angrily, he lunges his last three right for Dib, who lifts his arms in a feeble attempt to block.

D-boy flips in and smashes the legs out of the way with his mallet. The Irken goes in for another attack when his antennae twitch and he looks back just in time to see Gaz swinging her bat. He leaps out of the way and she smashes the ground where he was standing.

Snarling, the Irken lunges his spider legs at her. Again, D-boy flips in and helps Gaz block them. Before the bounty hunter can retract them, his antennae twitch again and he looks over to see Dib charging up a blast.

The Irken tries to retreat but finds himself stuck in place. He looks in despair at D-boy as he smirks and holds tight to his spider legs.

Dib fires his blast, reducing the Irken to dust and leaving behind nothing but his lifeless spider legs. D-boy lets them drop to the ground while Dib lowers his hand, sighing with relief.

Back on the roof, Zim and Reverend Meat have their hands full with the last two Irken Bounty Hunters. They stand back to back, repelling their opponents’ attacks with barely any chance to throw their own.

Zim’s spider legs repeatedly clash with the other Irken’s. Zim lifts his laser guns and fires at her. She leaps backwards, dodging the lasers and fires some of her own from her spider legs. Zim creates a force field with his, blocking them.

Behind him, Reverend Meat can’t get close to his Irken opponent. He keeps his spider legs close and fires lasers to keep the monstrously strong meat reverend at bay. Reverend Meat is forced to stay on the defensive and dodge, lest he get filled with laser holes.

He spots Zim with his force field and gets an idea. Keeping his eye on his opponent, he reaches around and grabs Zim’s head, picking him. Zim exclaims with shock as Reverend Meat holds him out, using him like a shield.

“He-what are yo-release Zim immediately!” he snaps.

“Just roll with it,” Reverend Meat orders, “and keep your shield up.” Zim does so and blocks laser blasts from both Irkens. With his other hand, Reverend Meat smashes another hole into the roof and breaks off a large chunk, throwing it at the bounty hunters. The Irkens are taken aback but easily blow the chunk to pieces, only to find Reverend Meat and Zim have disappeared.

They immediately look at the new hole in the roof and begin firing their lasers downwards. Then their antennae twitch just as Zim and Reverend Meat smash through the roof, jumping up right behind them.

Reverend Meat grabs the Irkens’ PAKs, smirking as he crushes them to pieces with his large hands. They both shudder and collapse to the ground on their knees. Zim grins as they look back and lifts his laser guns to finish them off, but freezes when he spots one of Irken’s removing her glove. He immediately recognizes the device on her wrist and flinches back.

“She’s gonna self-destruct!” he shouts.

“What!” Reverend Meat exclaims.

But before she can activate the device, a plasma beam fires from the side through her arm, completely destroying the bomb. Everyone looks to the left as two more beams are fired through the bounty hunters’ heads, and Tak approaches, lowering her cyborg arm.

“I didn’t need your help y’know,” Zim grunts.

“Yeah, yeah,” she sniffs.

Everyone finishes their fights around the same time and look around to check on the others. As D-boy leaps back onto the roof with Dib and Gaz, they quickly realize they’ve won and smile victoriously.

“Oh, hey, Tak,” Pepito says as they gather together. “Where’d you come from?”

“I’m not gonna let you leave me out of the fun again,” she replies.

“Hey, check it out,” Squee says, pointing to the main road. All of the students and teachers are gathered there as a couple police cars arrive. The kids settle on the edge of the building and watch as the police attempt to interview the rattled and excited students. Nobody’s noticed them on the roof yet.

“Well, the Skool was evacuated and we caused a lot of property damage,” Dib summarizes, “and it’s not even lunch yet.”

“Yup. Not bad for our first day back,” Pepito comments.

“If this is an omen to how the rest of the year is gonna be, I might just drop out,” Squee grunts, resting his chin in his hand.

“We will not be defeated,” Zim declares, “no matter how many assassins come after us, or whatever else, this year will not beat us.”

The Night Terrors sigh comfortably as they sit in between the kids.

“Besides, you got us,” Eff smirks, patting Squee’s head.

“Yeah, aren’t you lucky,” Reverend Meat sighs and leans against a grumbling Zim.

“And me,” Tak adds, “whether you like it or not.”

“I hate to say it, but…we can use all the help we can get,” Dib says.

“Uh oh,” Gaz grunts, “we better move. I think one of the cops spotted us.” “Yup,” Pepito agrees as they retreat farther onto the roof. “Wanna just ditch for the rest of the day?”

“Yeah, let’s go to my house,” Zim declares.

With the help of the Night Terrors, the two groups jump off the Skool and disappear through the back field, never to be found by their classmates or teachers until they return for classes the next day.

#invader zim #invader zim fanfiction #johnny the homicidal maniac #johnny the homicidal maniac fanfiction #iz jthm crossover #myart #myocs

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