#I was prepared for this but CLEARLY not enough

[grvait]

more old art!! featuring theo and my human harley fan design!! RUN THEODORE RUN (he's cooked)

im gonna talk about chapter 4 under here so only click if ur ok with spoilers! also its a huge yapfest. like HUUGE. i just want to voice my opinions about prototype because i've seen ppl sort of miss the point of what happened at the end of the chapter

I LOVED CHAPTER 4! IT WAS SO COOL!! i was sooo worried but im glad it turned out good. rip pianosaurus tho..

tldr (for the bunch of paragraphs where I talk abt prototype)

prototype being ollie is deranged because it means he was terrorizing the toys of safe haven on purpose for the fun of it when he could have killed them at any time. he also created an extremely close emotional bond with poppy for OVER A DECADE just to tear it all away from her at the end and tell her it was meaningless (he then proceeds to taunt her over the phone abt it). bro is LITERALLY TROLLING

you cant tell me that final scene w the "ive got something special in mind. i prepared it just for you, and this time you'll never want to leave." isnt some tom and jerry shit

ABT PROTOTYPE REVEALING HIMSELF AS OLLIE... (the long explanation)

we ALL knew he was ollie, but i don't think people are seeing the point of this reveal. it wasn't about revealing himself to us the player, it's about the implications that arise from it. he had been playing both sides for 10+ YEARS. that's deranged enough but not even CLOSE to the end of it

as ollie he had emotionally supported poppy in her lowest moments (as heard in the ollie and poppy tape). this tape also insinuates that (at least around the time it was recorded) the two of them called frequently, possibly every night. he wasn't just pretending to be everyone's ally, he was PRETENDING TO BE THEIR CLOSEST FRIEND THAT THEY COULD VENT TO 😭 he heard this poor girl sob into the phone and tell him about how she felt her humanity being taken from her, AND HE KEPT UP THE CHARADE AND COMFORTED HER, KNOWING THIS PATH HAD BAD INTENTIONS

what's worse than all of that, though, is that him being ollie means that at any time in the last 10 years he could have used the persona to force his way into safe haven. AT ANY TIME HE COULD HAVE KILLED THEM ALL. HE COULD SIMPLY USE THE OLLIE VOICE AND ASK THEM TO OPEN THE DOOR. why is this worse, you ask? because HE WAS LITERALLY TERRORIZING THEM ON PURPOSE.

think about the note in the cart/cave area. a toy from safe haven writes that prototype was right outside the door the night before, he'd gotten past the traps and was just tapping on the wall and staring. they said after he was gone they still felt they could hear it. HE IS LITERALLY BEING SCARY ON PURPOSE???? LEGIT TRAUMATIZING THEM AND FOR NO REASON. HE COULD GET IN THERE, HE'S SIMPLY CHOOSING TO MAKE THEIR LIVES HELL

so thats crazy.. BUT ALSO THE ENDING? in the poppy and ollie tape he says "im right here, poppy. for you. i'll always be here." AND AT THE END OF THE GAME, WHEN POPPY ASKS WHAT HE DID WITH OLLIE, HE SAYS THAT. you know what that means? that means he said that shit to her ALL THE TIME. clearly only the two of them would be familiar with the phrase which is why after he said it, she immediately knew he was ollie the whole time

i feel bad for poppy. she ran off but she was valid for that. all her friends from safe haven are dead, the only ones left are the player, kissy and ollie, but she soon realizes that ollie is WORSE than dead. he is LITERALLY HER ENEMY. the thousands of conversations they had, probably hundreds of times she vented and told him her plans and discussed her life with him? ALL FOR NOTHING. any time she thought she was winning the past 10 years was a lie, she was ALWAYS LOSING because he was GETTING ALL THE INFO FROM THEM. she genuinely never had a chance and i think she realized that

in her dialogue you can tell she's grieving ollie (obviously he IS prototype, but i think she's grieving the thought of him). saying "you lied to me" to the prototype of all people is absurd (considering he's done far worse than lie) but when you think about how she feels, it makes sense.

also the part where she said "this isn't right". again, a weird thing to say to him of all people, but if you put yourself in her shoes she's grieving the friend she thought she had, and she's struggling to grapple with the fact that it all meant nothing. somewhere in her mind she believes "ollie" as a personality is there somewhere, because how could someone be that close with you and mean none of it? she thinks that voicing this pain he's inflicted will change his mind, but it won't. and that's why it's genuinely really sad. that's why she asks if there was ever an ollie. i don't think she meant it literally, and i don't think his answer was literal either. she didn't mean "were you a mf named ollie once" she meant it like "was our friendship ever genuine?" which makes his response both heartbreaking and interesting.

so not only is her world shattered now, most of her friends are dead and the one who wasn't turned out to be her opp, but now he's TAUNTING HER OVER THE PHONE AND THREATENING HER. nice one... (loved the quip after she ran off btw. that shit was hilarious. like bro u made her crash out and went "some friend, huh?" YOU CANT SAY THAT BRO)

anyway think of it from her perspective: everyone you knew is gone, and soon the only 2 people that remain will be too. you can't run, or hide, or do anything. he WILL find you, and when he does he'll lock you away FOREVER where NOBODY WILL BE LEFT TO SAVE YOU. I WOULD RUN TOO.............. plus her running off probably led him away so.. she saved us sorta.

ALL THAT TO SAY THAT I REALLY LIKE THE OLLIE REVEAL FOR REASONS FAR BEYOND A SIMPLE TWIST. him being ollie for over a decade raises many many questions, and suggests very dark things.

hes crazy and the fact he did a monologue means he knows he won. he wouldn't have spilled the beans otherwise...

[sunflowerwinds]

sugar, sugar | v.a

summary: a week after isha’s birthday party, you tell vi it’s time to take the night on to make some blueberry cinnamon rolls. the two of you open up to one another in the midst of your baking session; your feelings for her somehow festering even more but maybe those feelings aren’t as one sided as you believe.

pairing: fem!reader x vi arcane

contains: modern!au, mila & jinx side-plot (that’s barely touched on), awkward and adorable tension, pining, fluff, talks of parental deaths on vi and reader’s end, possible incorrect depictions of baking (i love baking but im not an expert </3)

word count: 4.5K

a/n: i think i got one more part for you guys and i can’t wait for it :) i love love all of the overwhelming support for this little series; i cannot express it enough!! the reblogs & comments really help me keep going. i hope you guys enjoy this part!!

— THREE

“What are you doing?”

You hear from behind you as you were frantically wiping down the stone top island in the kitchen, making sure it was squeaky clean for Vi’s arrival.

After attending Isha’s birthday party, another week had flown by before you were able to have everything prepared. Okay, you had most of the materials at home already.

You felt you needed to mentally prepare to have Vi here in your childhood home; a place you go to for comfort at the end of a restless day. You had sent her messages with your address and what time she should make her way over to yours.

You hold back the eye-roll threatening your eyes at Mila’s judgemental tone. You were as ready as you could be, wearing a simple pair of striped sleeping pants and a dark gray sweatshirt that hung slightly off your shoulder with a back tank underneath. You were home so you wanted to be cozy yet cute. Your hair was up in a simple ponytail, a few flyaways escaping from your vigorous cleaning.

“Cleaning. What does it look like I’m doing?” You sarcastically respond to your sister, sucking in a deep breath as you move to another spot.

“I can see that but I mean, why are you scrubbing so damn hard? You’re going to carve the stone, dude.”

You close your eyes as you try not to snap at your sister. Your grandma had given you the day off so that you could spend as much time with Vi as you could. Even after insisting to her that it wasn’t necessary, she made sure you weren’t on the schedule and to not leave the house unless it was with Vi.

‘I need a daughter-in-law,’ were her words as she left the house to go to the bakery. She was very hopeful for you.

“I’m… a little anxious, okay?” You admit, ready to hear your sisters mocking.

She snorts at your words as she rounds the island to look at you. “Yeah, no shit.”

“Okay can you keep that to yourself, please? I-I don’t need this right now,” you wipe back some of the flyaways as you put the rag in the sink.

You wash your hands in silence, hearing your sister shifting behind you.

“Look, what I was going to say was that you are going to be fine. Clearly, she already likes you or else she wouldn’t have agreed to come over to help you,” Mila quietly tells you, tilting her head to try and find your eyes. “I know this doesn’t happen often for you but I don’t want you to screw it up.”

You take that in, ignoring the dig at your antisocial skills and lack of dating experience. You knew this was your sister's way of trying to comfort your scattered mind.

“Thanks… I think,” you squint your eyes at her, drying off your hands.

You hear your phone ding on the countertop, leaning over to check to see who it was. To your demise, it was Vi telling you that she had arrived at your house. You mutter a curse as you turn to your sister getting ready to tell her to go somewhere that wasn’t here. You hadn’t even heard the car rolling up the dirt driveway.

“You’re welcome. Now, I’ll be doing you a favor and leaving so you can have the house to yourselves.”

Your brows furrow at her words, questioning your sister’s whereabouts.

“Wait, where are you going?”

Mila grins at you before shrugging one of her shoulders, seeming sheepish. “Hanging out with a friend. I’ll see you. Have fun with Violet.”

She drags out Vi’s full name to tease you as she throws her brown suede purse over her shoulder. You practically shove her out of the house as you peek out the window once she shuts the front door. You knew your sister didn’t have a car, and she was not using yours, so you wanted to see who the hell was picking her up. Your eyes squint to see a streak of light blue hair in the driver’s seat and Vi walking up to your front door.

Vi passes your sister and gives her a slight nod and wave, telling her something that you couldn’t quite hear due to the fact that she was outside still. It took you way too long to realize that the head in the driver's seat was Jinx. Mila and Jinx were friends? And she just forgot to tell you?

Absolutely shocked by this news, you tug open your front to reveal Vi with her hand raising to knock but eyes widening at your confused expression as you look behind her at the car reversing and leaving the dirt driveway.

“Hey, uh,” Vi shoved her hands into the pockets of her zip-up, tilting her head at you, “is everything okay?”

You blink as your attention switches to Vi’s awaiting expression. You shake your head, an embarrassed chuckle leaving your lips.

“I’m sorry. Hi, Vi,” you grin at her before opening the door wider for her to step in.

“You’re okay. It’s Jinx and Mila, right?” Vi questions, an amused smile forms on her lips.

You nod slowly as you allow her to step further in, asking her to take off her shoes before nodding with a shocked expression as you shut the door and lock it.

“Yeah. They’re… friends?” You press, wanting to know your sister's business.

Vi pries off her shoes near the door and places them next to the small line-up of you, your sisters and your grandmother’s shoes.

“Yeah, I guess Jinx went to the bakery on her own and your sister was there and they started talking after that,” she breathed out a laugh.

“That’s crazy. I love my sister but she is cranky as hell at work,” you chuckle.

Vi shrugs her shoulders, her laughter fading to a small grin. Vi’s bright eyes dart around the interior of your grandmother's home, curiously examining every inch of the house you grew up in. You linger behind her as you try to compose yourself over the fact that she was here. You fiddle with your rings in an attempt to ease your bouncing mind.

“It’s so… cozy here,” she voices her thoughts as she smiles at a photo of you, your sister and your grandma when you were younger that was sitting on a shelf underneath the living room TV.

Her light gray zip up was slightly falling off her shoulders to reveal the inch strap of her black wife pleaser underneath. The sight distracts you for a moment before you cringe at your younger portrait but Vi merely admires how much you’ve grown yet somehow look the same.

Beautiful, nonetheless.

“Everyone says that when they come over. My grandpa actually helped build this place with his friends when they were younger. He really loved my grandma.” You explain softly, looking at the back of Vi’s head.

Vi turned her head to look at you, nodding as she glanced around the room wondering how long it must’ve taken to do this.

“It’s really beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you accept the compliment on your grandmother and grandfather's behalf. “Oh, and I did make the dough last night because it needs to rise overnight so it can be all light and fluffy.”

Vi slowly nods at your words, furrowing her brows as she motioned towards the kitchen area that was adjacent to the living room.

“So what more do we have to do other than, you know, assembling them?” Vi questions as she waits for your response.

You hold your hands behind your back as you tilt your head towards the fridge, an eager smile spreading onto your face.

“Do you want to listen to music while we bake?” You question.

Vi’s eyes flicker to your elated gaze and she can’t help but smile at your question. When you look at her like that, she thinks she would do anything for you. She watches your movements as you scurry over to a side table that was next to the living room couch to undo the clasp of a vinyl player that was disguised as a leather brown suitcase.

You kneel down to tug out a crate that held around 50 records, humming to yourself as you pick up a record that satisfied you. Vi couldn’t see from where she was standing but was hesitant to move forward. You carefully remove the vinyl from its paper shell to place on the spindle, moving the tonearm to rest it on the song of your desire.

“This is just a bunch of different blues and R&B songs,” you inform Vi, your back still turned to her. “I thought it was fitting.”

Vi nods in understanding even though you weren’t able to see her. You stand back up to your feet once adjusting the volume, walking back over to Vi’s awaiting figure. You take her hand in yours and motion for her to follow you into the kitchen.

“Is this going to be messy?” Vi asks, distracting herself from how much she loved feeling your hand in hers.

“Mmm, I would be lying if I said no so you either roll up your sleeves or take off your jacket so you don’t get it covered in anything,” you suggest as you release her hand to tug open the fridge to retrieve what you needed for the filling.

Vi, to your wonderful surprise, zips down her jacket and lets the cotton roll over her toned shoulders. You stand frozen near the fridge for a moment at the sight of her back nearly covered in ink. You had to thank whatever or whoever sent her to your grandma’s shop because how the hell is she real?

Standing here in your kitchen looking like that?

Vi sets her jacket aside on one of the chairs that was pulled up to the island, her hands finding their place on her hips as she awaits further instruction.

“Okay so, what you’re going to do is sprinkle a bit of flour onto the island. Just all over it,” you motion to the bag of flour and use one of your to make a spreading motion to the lengthy surface.

Vi nods in understanding at your instruction, clearing her throat as she reaches carefully into the paper bag to grab a good handful as does exactly as instructed. You hold back your glee as you watch her lean over a bit to even out the flour. She glances at you through her peripheral to make sure you seemed satisfied with how that looks.

“How’s it look?” She hums, dusting off her hands over the spread.

“Perfect. Now, take the dough and just give it a few kneads to press out the air bubbles.” You point to the metal bowl full of dough, stepping to the side to move out of her way.

Following your words once again, Vi takes the malleable tan dough into her palms to plop it down onto the surface. You turn your head to cough at the gust of powdery air that blew upwards. She, too, waves a hand in front of her face to brush the puff away from her nostrils.

When Vi had said you only wanted her there so she could do all the kneading, you didn’t expect to actually be gawking over her doing it. She digs her palms and fingers into the dough, leaning her chest forward to press it into the flour. Her triceps tightened at the motion, readjusting the blob to spread the flour evenly throughout. You swore you heard a grunt of struggle leave her lips as the dough was a bit thicker than she was expecting.

You raise a hand to your mouth to push back the infatuated smile that was tickling your lips, just watching her knead the dough.

“Is this good?” Vi asks through another press into the surface, another light grunt leaving her mouth.

“Yeah,” you say without thinking, lost in your lust-driven daze.

Vi looks up at you from her kneading as she stops with her hands still buried into the dough, no longer sticking to it as it was covered in flour. You dart your gaze away from her as you shake your head, chuckling and muttering ‘right’ to yourself.

“I’ll get the, uh, rolling pin so you can flatten it out.”

You suck in a deep breath as you turn your back to her, shutting your eyes as you internally scold yourself to pull it together. Had she noticed your lingering almost creepy stare at her arms?

If she did, she hid it very well.

“Do I need to wash my hands?” Vi questions from behind your back as you kneel down to retrieve the rolling pin from the cabinet.

“No, not yet. After rolling them, you can. I’ll put the filling and roll them if you want,” you offer from over your shoulder as you grab the wooden object.

“Okay. You’re the boss,” Vi chuckles.

You stand back up on your feet, blinking harshly from the sudden rush to your head. Change the subject, you begged internally as you handed her the rolling pin. As you flicker on the stove and try to think of something else to talk about, you can hear Vi humming along to the song currently playing as she rolled the dough as instructed.

You smile to yourself as you begin to make the filling as quickly as possible.

“You know this song?” You question the red-haired woman, turning to her slightly as you watch the filling simmer in the small pot.

Vi seems to be caught off guard at the fact that you could hear her humming to herself along with the song's lyrics, pausing her movements for a second.

“Uh, yeah,” she clears her throat as she takes one glance at you before looking away flustered. “My… mom would sing it all the time. She was obsessed with it.”

“You know, you’ve never talked about your mom,” you state carefully. “Not that you have to. It just hit me.”

Vi shook her head, muttering a ‘no, it’s okay.’

“I guess I never really had a reason to but I don’t mind,” she reassures you to glance at you once again with a small smile.

You send her one back as you stir the filling slowly, watching the ingredients dissolve over the heat.

“What was she like?” You question.

“She was… loving. She, uh, passed when I was 11 and Jinx was 6. She gave us home hair cuts that were just so terrible,” Vi shook her head with a chuckle as she recollected on her childhood. “I mean, seriously. I mean, it looked like we had cut them ourselves but my dad claimed that we loved the look. I think it was because it was the fact that it was her cutting our hair instead of some stranger.”

You can’t help but smile at her words. Her voice had softened the second she had brought up her mom, signaling to you that her mom was a gentle soul. You could feel how much that transpired within Vi.

“Were her and your dad together for a while before they had you and Jinx?” You hum.

“They were never together. They were actually friends but my mom got knocked up by some random guy twice that they never knew about and my dad kind of took that position of being, well, a dad.”

Vi explains as she sucks in a deep breath, seeming as though she was composing herself. You furrow your brows as you are afraid that you’ve pushed it too far with the questions.

“Well, when did Isha come in?” You ask in hopes to distract her.

This Vi freezes at, releasing the rolling pin to turn to you with a soft sigh.

“She came out of nowhere. My dad told us one day coming home from school that someone had left a baby on our doorstep. We thought that kind of stuff only happened in the movies so we thought it was a joke,” she leaned her back up against the counter top, folding her muscular arms across her chest. “But then we came into the living room and there she was wrapped up in a little blanket in a bassinet. Jinx was more excited than I was because she got her own little sister.”

“You have a very loving family. It’s obvious, honestly. I can tell you have a good heart, Vi,” you tilt your head to make eye contact with her to show the sincerity behind your words.

Vi’s eyes hold contact with your own, pupils dilating to the point where the blue of her eyes was a mere ring. She exhales a soft breath as she just stares at you.

“What about your parents? Are they…?” Vi blinks and reroutes the attention to you now.

“Uh, no. My mom and dad died when I was 6 or 7 and Mila was just 1. They weren’t the best parents from what my grandma has told me. They tried but they were… angry and overworked,” you shook your head as you turn down the heat on the stove lower before looking at Vi with a shrug to your shoulders. “I guess they thought having kids would bring them closer but it only seemed to push them further apart. They had dropped Mila and I here one day and just never came back. My grandparents found out a week later that they had gotten into a car accident and died on the way to the hospital.”

You wince to yourself at the silence that had fallen over the two of you. The soft crackle of the record switching songs and the soft bubbling of the blueberry filling in the pot were the only sounds in the house.

“But I’m okay. My grandparents raised me and my sister and I can guarantee it was the better choice,” you attempt to make a joke but Vi simply looks at you with a genuine expression.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly.

“I’m sorry too.”

You clear your throat, a strained chuckle leaving your lips as you clasp your hands together.

“Sorry, the filling’s ready. I didn’t mean to get all– Well, to bring that subject up.”

Vi shakes her head to reassure your frantic mind, reaching for your hand. You allow her to do so, heart leaping into your throat when her thumb wipes over the back of your hand.

“I said it was okay. I meant that,” she persists.

You look at her with a hesitant expression, opening your mouth about to apologize but she gives you a pointed look as if she was testing you to try it.

“Okay, okay, let’s roll these.”

Vi seems content with that and releases your hand to let you bring over the pot to the counter of rolled out dough. You ignore the bothersome want to grab her hand right back as carry it over and rest it on a crocheted pot holder so it wouldn’t burn the surface. You two stay in a comfortable silence as you take a wooden baking spoon to scoop it and carefully spread the blueberry-cinnamon filling across the flat dough. Once everything was properly rolled up and placed onto the baking sheet, you popped it in the oven for its designated time period.

About 20 minutes passed of sharing soft words to one another in the kitchen, the timer on your phone went off. With the rolls fresh out of the oven, you started to make the cream cheese frosting to wrap it all together. You could see Vi lingering over the delectable smelling pastries out of the corner of your eye, seeming to be examining them.

“You really do have a knack for this, cupcake. These look incredible,” Vi praises you as you plop the ingredients into the bowl.

You tuck a flyway piece of hair behind your ear as you bashfully smile in her direction.

“Well, you did all the kneading. They wouldn’t been made without your help,” you switch it around to the pink-haired girl.

“I knew you were staring,” she teased as she took a few steps forward so her shoulders were a few inches apart from your own.

The close proximity made your stomach flip but you simply continued to whisk in the bowl. You gradually add the milk, careful not to add too much or else it wouldn’t be thick enough.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lie through your teeth. “I was making sure your technique was good. I’m the baker here.”

“If you say so,” Vi held her palms up in defense, that annoyingly attractive grin on her face.

You shake your head before vigorously whisking the frosting, watching it turn into the perfect texture. You sigh as you dip your finger into soft white glaze and hold it up to Vi’s mouth, wiping it on her bottom lip without thinking.

Your eyes widen as you realize what you’ve done, watching Vi’s eyes match yours. She licks her lips to taste the frosting regardless, raising her fingers to her lips when yours just was.

“I’m so sorry. I—When I bake at home with my grandma or my sister, we usually just do, well, that because we’re the only ones eating it,” you cover your mouth with both of your palms, shaking your head. “I’m sor-I’m so sorry.”

“No, no,” Vi raises her hand to wave you off, a weird chuckle leaving her lips. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

You sigh, the embarrassment still clinging to your skin as you replayed in your mind how easily you did that.

“It’s good, though,” Vi adds through the silence.

You can’t help but let out an amused laugh at the way she immediately tries to assure you that what you did was in fact very normal. You knew it wasn’t… by any means but she attempts to make you feel better regardless.

“What?” Vi asks through her own soft laughter.

You shake your head as you motion to the fresh cinnamon rolls.

“Can we frost these, please? I’m trying to save myself from embarrassment.”

Vi simply grins at you as she reaches two fingers into the glaze to gather a bit on her pointer and middle before sticking it in her mouth. You stare at her, unable to utter a word. What the hell is wrong with her?

“See? It’s good.”

Instead of humiliating yourself further, you shove her back with one arm as you scold: “Did you even wash your hands?”

“I did, actually.”

“Then get to it,” you point to the cinnamon rolls and hand her a spatula.

Vi glances down at the bowl of frosting and the wooden spatula with a soft blue rubber before taking it from her hands to do as you had asked. You watch her step around you to take a good scoop of the glaze to spread it over the warm treats. You spoke quietly to one another, asking her random questions to pick at her mind a bit more; to get to know her better.

“You think you could teach me how to kick box?” You question as you are now sitting in your living room.

Two small ceramic plates that were in the style of pool balls on the coffee table in front of you; Vi’s being the 6 green ball and yours being the 8. Cinnamon rolls sat on either one; yours being less eaten than Vi’s. She had mere crumbs left as she nodded into her last bite.

“Oh yeah. You can let me know and I’ll clear out some space for you.” Vi grins as she licks her lips to be rid of the cinnamon from her lips.

“I will definitely,” you chuckle as you take another bite.

“Hey, uh, speaking of that, I have this kickboxing tournament coming up in a few days. I… want you to be there,” Vi looks at you with an awaiting expression; hope glimmering over her eyes.

Your eyes meet hers as you chew your food, a hand hovering over your mouth so you don’t drop crumbs. I want you to be there, her voice rang through your mind.

“You’ll be competing?” You wonder.

“Yeah and a few of my older students,” she confirms.

You’d be an idiot to say no. A stupidly giddy smile spreads onto your face as you set the last quarter of your cinnamon roll back on the plate.

“I’d love to be there. I’ll cheer you on from a distance.”

Vi tilts her head from next to you, bumping her shoulder with yours.

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah. I’ll embarrass you with a huge sign that says ‘Go Vi’ in rainbow glitter,” you lean closer to her face as you tease her.

Vi eyes flicker down to your lips for a split-second as you lean in. You notice the action but brush it off as the closer proximity.

“You’ll be my cheerleader?” She questions, a smirk forming.

“Always,” you whisper, sucking in a deep breath as you shift yourself so that your body is facing hers.

Your answer sends a shiver down Vi’s spine, her heart leaping into her throat. She lifts her hand to take one of yours before she opens her mouth to say something. A loud knock fills the house causing the both of you to jump.

You mutter a curse to yourself as you excuse yourself to Vi to walk over to the door to unlock it to see your sister and Jinx standing on the welcome mat. They both held cheeky, suspicious grins.

“Hey guys,” you furrow your brows at the two. “Back so early?”

“Early? It’s been three hours,” Mila states with raised brows, stepping into the house.

Vi must’ve heard Mila’s voice and appeared behind you at the door, cursing to herself as she did not realize how much time had passed. She checked her own phone before looking at her sister.

“Shit, I gotta go. I promised I would take Isha to the park before it gets too dark,” Vi runs to grab her zip-up, sadly shielding her toned arms once again. When she walks back over to you, Mila and Jinx, she wraps her arms around you to give you a warm hug. “I’ll text you all the details, I promise. Thank you for letting me come over. I had a good time.”

You hold onto her tightly, discreetly inhaling the cinnamon-blueberry scent that was clinging to her skin.

“Yeah, me too. Let me know everything, Vi,” you pull away to see your sister and Jinx giving each other weird looks.

Okay, their friendship was going to drive you up the wall.

“See you, cupcake. Bye, Mila,” Vi grins at you and waves at your sister.

“Bye, Vi. Bye Jinx. Text me!” Mila calls after Jinx as they both walk away to the running car.

Jinx turns her head to send your sister a knowing smile, calling back: “I will, Mils!”

You and your sister watch the two open their designated sides of the car, leaning against the door with a long sigh.

“God, could you act like you’re not in love with her?” Mila teases before walking over to the kitchen to probably devour the pastries you had baked.

You shake your head to yourself as you think that no, you really can’t.

previous part -> next part

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[antinousletmehit]

˚₊‧꒰ა Chapter 6 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

⋆˚࿔ Book 2 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

୨୧┇pairing: Telemachus x reader

୨୧┇we FINALLY meet other characters

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

Antinous leaned against the cold stone wall of the training grounds, his chains rattling softly with each movement. His sharp eyes tracked Telemachus, who stood across from him, tense and visibly fraying at the edges as the weight of the looming war pressed down on him. “Tell me something, king,” Antinous began, his tone dripping with venom. “Do you really think you’ll make it to y/n in time? Or do you just enjoy playing the tragic hero for show?”

Telemachus’s fists clenched, but he didn’t turn around. “We’re preparing. Every soldier is being trained, every ship outfitted. I’ll get her back, Antinous. I swear it.”

Antinous scoffed, the sound filled with derision. “Swear all you want. Swear to the gods, swear to me. It doesn’t change the fact that she’s gone. And who knows what that bastard is doing to her right now?”

Telemachus spun around, his eyes blazing with fury. “Shut your mouth!” he snapped. “You think I’m not already tormented enough?”

Antinous took a step forward, his chains clinking as he moved, the mocking smile on his face fading into something cruel and unrelenting. “Tormented?” he repeated, his voice lowering to a dangerous growl. “You don’t even know the meaning of the word, Telemachus. Do you realize what could happen while you waste time preparing? She might already be carrying that monster’s child by the time you finally decide to act. Or worse…” He leaned in closer, his words slicing through the air like a blade. “She might not be alive at all.”

Telemachus froze, the weight of those words slamming into him like a blow. He opened his mouth to argue, to scream back, but nothing came. His breathing turned ragged, his mind flashing with horrifying images he didn’t want to believe. “You think she’s just sitting there, waiting for you to come save her?” Antinous continued relentlessly, his voice rising with bitter anger. “She’s suffering, Telemachus. Every second you waste is another second she’s being tormented by that prince you so graciously welcomed into your home. You let this happen. You let him near her. And now, you’re just standing here, hoping war will fix everything.”

Telemachus’s shoulders slumped slightly, the weight of guilt pressing him down. “I’m doing everything I can…” he murmured, his voice cracking.

Antinous sneered. “Everything you can? Clearly, it’s not enough. You’re her husband, aren’t you? Her protector? Then why is she gone? Why is my sister—your wife—at the mercy of a man who doesn’t know the meaning of mercy?”

Telemachus took a shaky step back, his mind a storm of emotions: anger, shame, fear. Antinous’s words were cruel, yes, but they carried the sting of truth. “I’ll get her back,” Telemachus finally whispered, his voice hollow but determined.

Antinous shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping him. “You’d better. Because if you don’t, if she’s already lost by the time you finally get to her…” His expression twisted into something cold and menacing. “You’ll wish I was still chained when you return.” The words echoed in the space between them as Telemachus turned away, his heart heavy and his resolve burning brighter than ever.

——

The salt laden wind whipped Telemachus’s cloak as the Ithacan ships sailed eastward, their oars cutting through the restless waves. Determination burned in his chest. He needed more men—strategists, warriors, anyone who could strengthen their force and ensure his wife’s safe return. He scanned the horizon as their fleet neared the ports of various islands, each harbor holding the potential to tip the war in his favor.

Druses

Telemachus stepped onto the polished marble streets of Lyris, a city known for its artists and beauty. Among the crowd gathered in the marketplace stood Druses, a man with an ethereal elegance that rivaled the gods. His long black hair flowed like a river of silk, and his piercing purple eyes seemed to strip away all pretense. When Telemachus approached him, Druses’s lips curved into a knowing smirk. “King of Ithaca,” he drawled, his voice smooth but laced with indifference. “What brings you here, so far from your shores?”

“I’ve come to ask for your sword,” Telemachus said plainly, meeting his gaze. “Your reputation precedes you, Druses. I need warriors of your skill.”

Druses tilted his head, inspecting Telemachus like one might study a sculpture. “And why should I care about your war? What honor is there in chasing after a stolen wife?”

Telemachus clenched his jaw but kept his tone steady. “This isn’t just about my wife. It’s about justice. If men like Raphael can take what they please without consequence, then what’s to stop them from doing it again? Stand with me, Druses, and your name will be sung for generations as a champion of righteousness.”

Druses’s smirk softened into something more thoughtful. “Honor, you say?” He paused, letting the word linger in the air before nodding. “Very well. I’ll join you, if only to see if your conviction matches your words. But be warned—I expect no less than glory on this campaign.”

Florus

Their next stop was the tranquil island of Myrinthos, where the forests stretched endlessly and whispers of an unmatched strategist echoed through the villages. Telemachus found Florus perched in a tree, his bow strung lazily across his back. The young man was slight, with an air of calm intelligence that belied his sharp wit.

“Florus,” Telemachus called out, drawing the archer’s attention.

Florus glanced down, one brow raised. “And who might you be, shouting into my forest?”

“King Telemachus of Ithaca,” he replied. “I’ve heard of your skill with the bow and your brilliant mind for strategy. I’ve come to ask for your aid in a war.”

Florus hopped down from the tree, dusting off his hands. “A war, you say? Sounds messy. And loud.” He gave Telemachus a lazy smile. “Not exactly my idea of a good time.”

“Would you rather stay here, bored out of your mind, while the world changes around you?” Telemachus countered. “You’re too sharp to waste your talents in obscurity. Join us, and you’ll have the chance to shape the course of history.”

Florus considered this, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “Boredom has been a problem lately…” He grinned. “Alright, you’ve convinced me. But only because I can’t resist a good challenge. Just don’t expect me to get my hands dirty too often.”

Cassander

Their final stop brought them to the bustling city of Almyros, where Cassander was found in a tavern, charming a group of women with his cocky grin and boastful tales. The man was tall and broad shouldered, his confidence radiating like the sun. Telemachus approached, his presence commanding enough to make Cassander glance up from his admirers. “And who are you?” Cassander asked, raising a brow.

“King Telemachus of Ithaca,” he introduced himself. “I’m forming an army to wage war against Skiaphos. I need men like you—strong, fearless, and skilled in battle.”

Cassander laughed, leaning back in his chair. “And what’s in it for me, your majesty? Gold? Glory?” His grin widened. “Or perhaps the promise of beautiful women to claim as prizes after victory?”

Telemachus fought back a grimace. “If it’s women you want, then you’ll find no shortage of them on the battlefield,” he said evenly, though his tone carried a subtle edge. “But if you’re truly as skilled as they say, then you’ll also earn the respect of kings and warriors alike. Your name will be known far beyond Almyros.”

Cassander chuckled, clearly pleased by the prospect. “Alright, King Telemachus. You’ve got yourself a deal. But don’t forget—when this is all over, I expect my rewards to be worth the trouble.”

With Druses, Florus, and Cassander aboard his fleet, Telemachus felt the weight of his army grow stronger. Each man brought something unique to the table, honor, strategy, brute strength, but as the ships sailed onward, Telemachus’s mind remained focused on one thing: bringing y/n and Adonis home. No matter the cost.

——

The sea stretched endlessly before them, the waves rocking the fleet of warships as they made their way toward Skiaphos. But no amount of salt air or open water could calm the growing tension aboard the Ithacan flagship—thanks entirely to Antinous and Eurymachus. “Can you not chew like a wild boar?” Antinous snapped, glaring at Eurymachus, who was sitting on a crate and loudly munching on a piece of dried bread.

Eurymachus smirked, deliberately chewing even louder. “What’s the matter, dungeon boy? Can’t handle the sound of freedom?”

Antinous’s jaw twitched as he took a threatening step forward. “Say that again, and I’ll throw you overboard.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Eurymachus shot back.

Before Antinous could follow through on his threat, acrisios groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “For the gods’ sake, can you two not brawl for five minutes? Some of us are trying to work!” Antinous crossed his arms, muttering under his breath, while Eurymachus grinned smugly, enjoying his small victory.

Later, Telemachus assigned Antinous and Eurymachus to work together, hoping the shared responsibility would force them to cooperate. It didn’t. “You’re supposed to tie the knots tighter than that,” Antinous barked as Eurymachus attempted to secure a sail.

Eurymachus raised an eyebrow. “And you’re supposed to be useful. Guess we’re both failing today.” The knot slipped loose, and the sail whipped wildly in the wind. Antinous cursed, lunging to fix it while Eurymachus leaned lazily against the mast, clearly enjoying the chaos.

When the sail was finally secured, Antinous turned on him, his face red with fury. “Do you have any idea how close that was to tearing?”

“Relax,” Eurymachus said with a shrug. “You caught it. No harm done.”

Antinous lunged at him, and the two ended up wrestling on the deck, much to the crew’s dismay. It wasn’t just each other they tormented, Antinous and Eurymachus managed to irritate everyone else on the ship as well.

Antinous had a habit of pacing the deck at all hours, his restless energy keeping half the crew awake at night. “Could you not stomp around like an elephant?” one sailor finally snapped.

“I’ll stomp wherever I want,” Antinous retorted, glaring at the man.

By the third day at sea, Telemachus was at his wit’s end. He cornered the two troublemakers on the deck, his voice low but filled with warning. “If either of you causes one more problem, I’ll personally throw you both overboard,” he growled.

Antinous crossed his arms, looking unimpressed. “I didn’t ask to be here with him, king.”

“And I didn’t ask to babysit a dungeon rat,” Eurymachus added, grinning. Telemachus rubbed his temples, wondering leaving them chained together in the brig for the remainder of the journey might actually be worth it.

Despite their constant bickering and knack for causing chaos, there was an odd energy between Antinous and Eurymachus that somehow managed to keep morale from sinking entirely. Whether it was the absurdity of their arguments or the sheer entertainment of watching them try to one up each other, the crew found themselves laughing more often than not, even if it was through gritted teeth.

——

The ships rowed steadily through the darkened waves, the creak of the oars and the low murmur of voices filling the air. But even the rhythm of the sea couldn’t drown out the constant bickering and antics of Antinous and Eurymachus. Their usual antics got on the nerves of the crew, especially Druses, who had been sitting quietly in the corner, trying to focus on sharpening his blade.

Finally, with a loud clang, Druses slammed his dagger down onto the wooden crate beside him. His usually composed and serene face twisted with frustration as he stood up abruptly, his long black hair whipping around him like a dark storm. “Enough!” he roared, his voice cutting through the air like a whip. Everyone froze. Even Antinous and Eurymachus stopped mid insult, turning to look at him. “What is the point of this ridiculous expedition?” Druses snapped, his violet eyes blazing as he gestured toward Telemachus. “All this effort, all this chaos, to save a woman who, let’s be honest, has likely already been defiled and used by that Skiaphosian prince you’re so obsessed with! She’s probably broken by now.”

The silence that followed was deafening. The words hung in the air like a poisonous cloud, and the crew shifted uncomfortably, some exchanging nervous glances. Telemachus’s hand shot out, slamming against the mast as he pushed himself to his feet. His usual calm demeanor was gone, replaced with a cold fury that made even the bravest men step back. He locked eyes with Druses, his voice dangerously low but steady.

“Say that again,” Telemachus hissed, each word laced with venom. “Insult my wife one more time, and I’ll throw you as a sacrifice to Poseidon myself.”

Druses scoffed, crossing his arms but stepping back a fraction. “You’re blind, Telemachus. You think she’s waiting for you with open arms? You think she hasn’t been ruined—”

Telemachus didn’t let him finish. He strode forward, grabbing Druses by the collar and yanking him close, his teeth bared in a snarl. “She is my wife,” he growled. “The mother of my son. You will not speak of her that way. Ever.”

The tension was suffocating, the other men watching with bated breath. Antinous leaned against the railing, clearly enjoying the show, while Eurymachus raised an eyebrow, muttering, “Didn’t think Druses had it in him.”

Druses, though shaken by Telemachus’s fury, held his ground, meeting the king’s glare with a defiant gaze. “Fine,” he said evenly, though his voice was quieter now. “But don’t let your emotions cloud your judgment. You’re leading us into war over one woman. If this fails, it’s not just your loss—it’s ours.”

Telemachus released him with a rough shove, his hands trembling slightly from the sheer force of his rage. “Then stay behind if you’re so concerned about your loss,” he snapped. “No one’s forcing you to be here, Druses. But don’t you dare insult her again, or I’ll make sure you regret it.” Druses straightened his tunic, his jaw tightening as he turned away without another word. The crew remained silent, the tension thick as Telemachus stood there, his chest rising and falling with deep, controlled breaths.

Finally, Eurymachus broke the silence with a lazy drawl, “Well, that was entertaining. Let’s see who snaps next.”

“Shut up, Eurymachus,” Telemachus barked, and the former suitor raised his hands in mock surrender, grinning. The king returned to his spot, his eyes fixed on the horizon. His heart ached, not from Druses’s words, but from the fear that they might be true. But he shook the thought away. She was strong. She was his—and he would bring her home, no matter the situation.

@procrastination20 @jackiepackiee @barrythestrawberry041 @blessedbyahuntress

@f3r4lfr0gg3r @permanently-nothere @eyuunho @jackintheboxs-world

@simpingmyassoff @sunshinewhosketches

@sugarlillycookie @kaguraaaa @doodle-with-rhy

@0anodite0 @cocosparkel @tati-the-fangirl @dazedemery @tsmaruchan

@holywizardprincess @galaxygurlll @pjopinkk

@h0ne4bee @minteaspoon @zendoesstuff @xo-cuteplosion-xo

[oh-phoenixx]

"Crazy" - Jegulus microfic @into-the-jeggyverse - 354 words

-

Since Gryffindor had won the match against Slytherin, Regulus had refused to talk to James. James didn’t know what to do. If winning came with the cost of losing his boyfriend, he was prepared to tank every match they had against Slytherin. 

After a week of being ignored, James couldn’t bear it anymore, he was going crazy. When he spotted Regulus in the hallway and noticed the glare he was fixed with, James pulled Regulus into an empty classroom, despite his protests.

“Get off of me!” Regulus grumbled, putting a good amount of distance between him and James.

James tried not to let Regulus’s sudden disdain stop him from speaking his mind. “You’ve been ignoring me,” James said, surprising himself with how calmly it came out.

“Of course I have,” Regulus spat, not looking at James.

James walked towards him and grabbed his arms before he could step back. His grip wasn’t tight enough that Regulus couldn’t pull away, though he hoped he wouldn’t.

“Love, I- I don’t know what I’ve done wrong, I’m sorry,” James said softly. “Please look at me?”

Regulus complied, looking up, though his stare was hard. “You kissed that girl after the match on Saturday.” His voice was angry, defiant, though James could hear the sadness beneath it.

“What? No- I- What?” James struggled. “I didn’t, love. I would never do that to you.”

“McKinnon kissed you on the cheek,” Regulus muttered.

“Oh. Oh, Reg.” James held back a laugh. “She’s like a sister to me. Seriously, I’ve known her since I was three. And she’s a lesbian. If you’re uncomfortable with her doing that, I’ll ask her not to. I don’t want anyone but you.”

Regulus only nodded, clearly trying to act indifferent, but James could practically feel the tension leaving his body. He leaned his head on James’s chest.

“I’m sorry I ignored you.”

“I’m sorry I hurt you.” 

Before Regulus could argue that it was his fault, which James knew he would do, James kissed him. He couldn’t even go a week without Regulus. He hoped he would never have to lose him for any longer.

[dorabellingham]

Vows in a rush

warning: none

characters: jude x fem!reader

summary: when after years of marriage you decide to renew your vows and he surprises you

may contain spelling and translation errors!

The afternoon was golden, tinged by the sunset that painted the sky with soft shades of pink, orange and blue. The place chosen by Jude for the renewal of the vows was a small garden hidden between hills, surrounded by ancient trees and wildflowers. It was a dream setting, intimate, just for you.

You had imagined that it would be a special moment, but nothing prepared you for what you saw when you approached the altar.

Jude was there, waiting for you, wearing an elegant dark suit that made him look even more handsome. But it wasn't just him. Next to him were Jayden and Oliver, your two boys, dressed in small suits identical to their father's. Jay, with his curls perfectly arranged, held a small pillow of wedding rings, while Oli, on his father's lap, looked around with curious eyes.

Your heart stopped for a moment.

The vision of them there, the three men of your life, waiting for you at the altar, was enough to make tears fill your eyes before even taking the first step.

-Oh, Jude...

You whispered to yourself, feeling your legs almost fail.

You held the bouquet harder and tried to take a deep breath, but the tears were already rolling freely down your face. You walked slowly through the improvised corridor, feeling his heart beating faster with each step.

When you finally reached the altar, Jude smiled at you, his eyes shining with emotion.

-You look so beautiful, darling.

He murmured, holding your hand.

You looked at him, then at the smiling boys, and sobbed softly.

-You took me completely by surprise, babe.

Jude laughed, wiping a tear from your face with his thumb.

-I thought it would be special if we did this together. You're not just my wife, Y/n. You are the mother of our children, the woman I want to live with every day of my life. I wish they were here to see this, to feel how strong and full of love this family is.

You bit your lip, trying to hold back your tears, but it was impossible.

The ceremony began in a simple way, only the two exchanging sincere vows, with the little boys as witnesses of the love that united them.

Jude held your hands gently and took a deep breath before starting.

-Babe, I chose you years ago, and I would choose you as many times as necessary. Since the day we said "yes" to each other, we went through incredible moments, through challenges, joys that I never imagined I could feel. You are my partner, my best friend, my home. With you, life is always worth it. Today, in front of our children, I want to promise once again that I will love you, protect you and make you happy for the rest of my life.

You sniffed, laughing in the midst of tears.

—Jude...

You tried to speak, but the voice failed from so much emotion.

He smiled, waiting patiently while you took a deep breath and tried to compose yourself.

-I've told you before, and I'll say it again... I would marry you a thousand times, Jude Bellingham. Not because I need to, but because you are the love of my life. From the moment we started this journey, I knew that it was with you that I wanted to grow old. You give me strength, make me laugh on the worst days, make me feel the most loved woman in the world. And, above all, you gave me the greatest gifts of my life: our children. So, today, before them, I promise to continue by your side, to continue loving you, to continue being yours, forever.

Tears ran freely down your face, and the man in your front couldn't hold back the emotion either.

Jay looked at the two, clearly confused with the crying, and pulled the bar of his father's suit.

-Daddy, mommy is crying.

Jude laughed and took his eldest son on his lap, while you held Oliver.

-It's because she's happy, Jay.

He explained, kissing his son's forehead.

Jayden looked at you with the most expressive brown eyes he had ever seen in your life and, in the purest innocence, opened his arms to you.

-I love you so much, mommy!

And that broke you completely.

You hugged the two boys and Jude at the same time, letting all the emotions overflow.

At that moment, in that small altar surrounded by flowers and love, you knew, more than ever, that there was no better place in the world to be.

[laceyxpierce]

Lacey grinned, her eyes glinting with mischief as she leaned back slightly, tapping her fingers thoughtfully on the table. "Oh, you’re onto me, huh? I had a very elaborate revenge plot all planned out, but I’ll give you credit for spotting it early." She winked, clearly enjoying the banter. "But, I will admit—Blue Eyes followed by a Rob Zombie might be a bit of a curveball even for me. You’d kill it, though. There’s something about singing Sinatra with all the passion of a horror movie villain. It’s a vibe."

She watched him with a knowing smirk as he rambled, his playful self-deprecation making her laugh softly. "I see what you’re doing, though. You’re making sure I’m entertained while you’re secretly preparing to throw me into a black hole of your own making. But I’m onto you. Not gonna fall for it… not today." She paused, feigning an exaggerated dramatic sigh. "And the drink offer? Now we’re talking. That’s what I like to hear."

She leaned in slightly, making sure her voice was low enough to feel almost conspiratorial. "But I’ll have you know, I’m a woman of high standards. So, if you’re gonna make it up to me, I’m thinking something with a little more flair. Something to match the level of entertainment you’ve been providing."

"You know? I'm going to keep your number on speed dial, because you are just inflating my ego over and over during all of this. And I'm the one who cursed us to be spilled on. Is there some large revenge strategy? Get me into karaoke to kill it in some old Blue Eyes and then you swap it out with a Rob Zombie or a James Buffett. I can see through your schemes and, while I approve of said schemes, I shall not fall for them today."

"It's all I've got on that front, don't get too expected with me now. I'm running out quick here. Like I'm being pulled towards a...a black hole? See? I'm already floundering. Fading! Oh, stars fade. Okay, never mind I'm back. Now how about I buy you a drink if you're so inclined? To make up for the instance of our meeting here?" @laceyxpierce

[bianca-mii]

Paul & Richard kiss

Little post about one of my favorite kisses from the 2022 tour. There's a few different angles already "giffed", but I needed this particular sequence to write about.

The beginning is so cool with Paul's somewhat challenging look, like "okay, here we go, bring it on!"

The guitarists get close to each other and keep prolonging the final notes of Auslaender. Paul makes a gesture with his right hand, I'm not really sure what he's trying to do - tease Richard that he'll spoil something with his guitar stings?

Anyway, Richard remains unphased. He lifts his gaze at the other man and soon... Ohhh, you can easily tell when the idea comes to his mind.

He starts smirking mischievously and all his attention gets focused on Paul's cute little nose. Not for the first time though - we could watch the little pat on Paul's nose from Richard earlier on (2019, obviously the end of Puppe):

Also the other band members don't seem immune to its cuteness:

But what Richard does here is plain off limits. He tickles his fellow guitarist's nose with his predatory gaze and lips stretched into an extremely evil grin for almost 5 seconds. He stays alert, though, for any signs of Paul's disapproval, and when the rhythm guitarist moves his head, probably slightly annoyed anyway, Richard hesitates for a moment. But obviously seeing that Paul is hardly angry (we can't see it from this angle, but Richard certainly can and I believe that it is the case here), he continues his mischief for another while.

Now, I've watched this moment several times and couldn't believe it actually happened. At the beginning I thought Richard was messing with Paul's guitar head. I mean, are they even serious?! A nose tickling session?! Bloody hell! I can't with these two!! Is there anybody who can?!

Okay, another angle. And what do we have next, an annoyed Paul being like "Richard, what the hell"? Nope, of course not. We see Richard grabbing the back of the neck of a broadly smiling Paul, allowing all this like "sure this idiot right here is the biggest dork you'll ever see, but how can I get annoyed at somebody I love..." He prepares for the kiss, his chin lifted, his lips plumped, his eyes closed, and...

And the last angle... It always gets me and makes me truly, truly weak... I've seen many kisses, experienced and keep experiencing quite a few myself, but never have I seen anybody that entirely cheerful and smiling into a kiss as Richard is here. I'm suprised he was even able to kiss Paul with his lips so widely stretched into a grin. The pure joy, happiness and love for the slightly shorter man simply beams from his face with an otherwordly intensity. And when the kiss, by far not as brief as in the earlier shows, is finally ended, he looks at Paul with his eyes confessing the overwhelming feelings yet again.

Clearly deciding all what has happened in this very moment between the guitarists is fairly enough and satisfying for now, Richard lets his beloved bandmate go, probably remembering Paul's favorite places for such intimate interactions are behind the drumkit, under the B-stage, anyway, definitely not in the spotlight. The guitarists part their ways, go back to their reality, already thinking about Du Riechst So Gut intro, and it's only us, the fans, left, who need to come to terms with the fact we've just seen something we may likely never experience ourselves...

The whole video (cropped by me):

Credits: LIFAD Ukraine, richard_paulfuuuk, luisbawzaski

Quelle: Instagram

[clemelntine]

I like the contrast in Fadel and Styles caps. Fadel brought what seems to be a cheap (easy to buy) and inconspicuous cap that is just a solid color making it hard to find out anything about him from the cap alone (you can't figure out where he brought it, it doesn't show any logo or other image, and the color doesn't catch the eye), it's one he probably bought for spying specifically. While Style clearly just brought a cap that he owns for fashion reasons; with a sticker under it (easily identifiable), a logo on the front (tells you something about the owner) and model that makes his head look really good (probably why he bought it). He was still smart enough to pick a color that is not super noticeable, but it is still not as good as Fadels and clearly portrays the difference in their experiences and how they are both differently prepared and trained

[academyofbrokenhearts]

I have finally finished reading Blossom. Happy ending in the novel too, although a lot of things were vastly different; the main couple, of course, remained superior until the end.

Things we got in the novel that I am glad didn't make it into the series:

Dou Zhao, an adult woman, scheming and navigating complex familial relationships while in a two year old, then a five year old body. I get how it might be interesting for some, but it was incredibly boring for me, and since she managed to neutralise her stepmother quite early on, I saw no need to spend so much time watching her building up and managing relationships with everyone in the Dou family. Moreover, I am glad that the size of the family was trimmed down (I still can't make sense of all the relationships presented in the novel) and some characters were changed compared to how they were in the novel; it was amazing to see Grandma, who had been only a concubine in the book (and therefore couldn't even be called Grandma by Dou Zhao according to customs, let alone have any kind of power), turning into a formidable matriarch, and it was also cool to see Zhao Zhangru as the constant sidekick;

no Song Mo until 114 chapters in. I must confess that my main fascination in both the series and the novel was the relationship between the mains, and the fact that he is only mentioned once or twice before his first dramatic appearance was definitely not enough for me;

way too much time spent on side characters; like I said in a previous post, did I really need to know in detail how Suxin and Sulan ended up serving Dou Zhao? And it felt even more useless since in the novel they end up getting married and leaving the Song Manor, and only getting mentioned in passing from that moment on;

Things I wish would have made it into the series, but did not (and some of them could have never made it, unless the entire censorship board would have been in a coma):

all the sexual encounters between Song Mo and Dou Zhao. Like in the series, the start of their physical intimacy is quite slow, they don't consummate during their wedding night (but unlike in the series, it's not because she prepares a period PowerPoint presentation, it's simply because he knows the next days as newlyweds will be tiring, and just wants to allow them to rest). Unlike in the series, no one is cockblocking Song Mo (in fact, their subordinates are even alarmed at the lack of consummation), and when he decides to make a move on Dou Zhao, he does it, and no one dares to interrupt. They make love quite regularly from that moment on, and I like how Dou Zhao's reluctance is gradually melting away, and how the novel is clearly stating that she enjoys the encounters just as much as he does, and even becomes bold enough to initiate later on;

them being parents. I know we get that one cute scene with their daughter at the end of the series, but Song Mo is such a good dad and husband in the novel, constantly prioritising Dou Zhao's comfort and being just as involved in the child's rearing as she is (to the point that their son learns to say Papa before Mama). I surely wish we would have seen more of that in the series.

Song Yichun does not die in the novel. He is, in a delightful twist of fate, forced to expel Song Han from the family, a treatment he had hoped to apply to Song Mo, and is left disabled after Song Han attacks him. Moreover, the daughter he had switched at birth with Song Han is discovered alive, Song Mo takes her under his protection, and she gets married and lives happily. I surely wish karma would have hit the old man in the face like this in the series as well.

Other things that got changed which I am fairly neutral about:

Song Mo and Dou Zhao's backgrounds in life 1. I have to say I loved how the series made it crystal clear that life 1 was an utterly doomed timeline, with both of them being betrayed and ultimately killed, while the entire country was burning. Life 1 in the novel was bleak in a different, more subtle, way. Dou Zhao dies after a long illness, almost completely devoid of any human warmth - the novel tells us that both her sons with Wei Tingyu are distant, as a result of her being too busy with household matters to be able to form a bond with them, and the only warmth she gets is from her daughter, a child she had after forcing herself to have sex with her husband once more (she had trauma from miscarriage), hoping she could get pregnant again and alleviate her loneliness somewhat. And Song Mo, unlike in the series, is a very powerful figure after the coup, but is perceived as merciless (having slaughtered both his father and brother), cynical (he never finds out the truth about his uncle's death, and never bothers to) and, in the end, utterly, utterly alone;

the dynamic between them after the rebirth. Unlike in the series, where they forged a bond in life 1 which was the basis for their relationship as adults in life 2, in the novel they meet as teenagers (when he is 13 and she is 14), and he is more or less smitten from the beginning, whereas she fears and despises him at first, gradually starting to understand him the more their paths cross. While in the series, they are already both in love by the time she accepts his proposal (having gone through a lot of adventures together that strengthened their bond), in the novel, he is the one with the huge crush, while she accepts his proposal for more pragmatic reasons, trusting that he is capable and will support her in the way Wei Tingyu was unable to. But the attraction between them is mutual, and I really liked watching her slowly but surely falling in love with him due to his constant care and attention towards her;

Song Mo is way more calculated in the novel than in the series, where he's simply feral and would wreak havoc at any given moment were it not for Dou Zhao and her more sensible approaches. It makes for an interesting dynamic in the series, where they pretty much compliment each other, but I must confess I loved his scheming and 5D chess playing in the novel;

Dou Ming's entire character. Unlike in the series, which presented a nature versus nurture situation, with Dou Ming being shrewd in life 1 after being raised by her mother, and a sweet, innocent girl in life 2, as a result of not being raised by her mother, in the novel, Dou Ming exhibits jealousy from an early age, and constantly feels inferior, which ultimately results in her taking Dou Zhao's place as Wei Tingyu's wife. Their marriage is unhappy, as, just like in the series, he is not very smart and doesn't like facing difficulties. Unlike in the series, she doesn't die (she's too petty to die), but it's clear by the time she makes her last appearance in the novel that her life is miserable, and there is no chance of improvement;

Wang Yingxue is not even half as cunning and manipulative as her series counterpart; she fails to charm Dou Shiying in any meaningful way (he is never in love with her and only wants to take her as a concubine because they had a sexual encounter while he was drunk, and he wants to save face) and ultimately she pushes him away, becomes a pariah in the family and is sent to a country estate to die forgotten by everyone, including her daughter;

Miao Ansu has a completely different familial background and no connection to Dou Zhao prior to her marriage with Song Han. She's also far from being the timid forest creature the series portrays her as;

Song Han manages to be somehow even more awful than his series counterpart. Not only is he not in love with Miao Ansu, he also lacks any kind of respect for her, which ultimately pushes her to align with Dou Zhao and Song Mo, and initiate his downfall. His death is not described in the novel, but it is heavily implied.

Overall, while there were a lot of things I liked about the book, I think I prefer the pacing of the series way more. Also, the series got a "will they get their happily ever after, won't they?" feeling with the poison subplot that the novel lacked until very close to the end (when Dou Zhao is almost taken hostage during the palace coup). The royals are awful as hell in both iterations, the injustice never really gets solved (in my opinion, the Emperor was also very much to blame for Jiang Meisun's death, not only the scheming Empress), but at least the lovely main couple lives happily ever after.

Would I rather recommend the book or the series? Honestly, probably the series, but the Song Mo/Dou Zhao dynamic is lovely in the novel as well, and, if nothing else, those passages about their relationship are definitely worth reading.

[wzrd-wheezes]

Smitten - James Potter x Reader

AN - Here's a little James fluff that I wrote and completely forgot about lol. Enjoy <3.

He’s smitten. Completely and irrevocably captivated. One glance from her and the world shifts on its axis. When she smiles, his imagination soars and his brain is all white doves and champagne toasts.  

Her laugh isn’t just a sound. It’s church bells on a spring afternoon. He’s not a religious man, but for her, he’d build a cathedral with his bare hands and worship at her altar forever. A simple curve of her lips and he’s envisioning vows under a canopy of twinkling lights, her name being the only prayer he’ll ever need. 

Pathetic. That’s what he tells himself when her hand brushes his. The fleeting touch sparking fireworks he swears other people could see if they looked close enough. In his mind’s eye, he’s already down on one knee, slipping a pretty ring onto her finger. He doesn’t even know her that well yet, but one thing he knows for sure: he’s done for. 

This isn’t like anything he’s ever felt. He’s dated before – flirted, kissed, even thought he’d loved once – but none of that prepared him for this. His heart races, his palms sweat, his cheeks flush whenever she’s near. 

“Mate, you’ve got it bad.” Sirius drawled, taking a long sip of his beer, “I’ve never seen anyone go full Romeo like this before.” 

“Romeo wrote poetry. I’m not writing poetry.” James shot back, leaning against the table. 

“Yet.” Sirius quipped, “Give it a week. You’ll be sitting in your room scribbling odes to her in your journal.” 

“That’s Moony’s thing, not mine.” James teased, raising his glass in mock toast towards Remus. 

Remus raised an unimpressed eyebrow but didn’t miss a beat, sticking two fingers up at James and rolling his eyes, “At least I have the self-respect to not get googly-eyed over someone I’ve spoken to, what? Twice?” 

“Three times.” James corrected automatically, only to wince when his friends dissolved into laughter. 

“You fall in love quicker than Sirius can down a pint.” Remus quipped, clearly enjoying himself. 

“So, when’s the wedding?” Sirius tormented, “or have you not planned it yet? Here, Moony, do you think Prongs is a spring wedding guy, or more of an autumn kind of thing?” 

“Spring.” Remus replied dryly, “Flowers blooming. Birds chirping. All very poetic.”  

“Obviously, there’ll be doves,” Sirius added, gesturing grandly as if arranging the scene. 

“Maybe throw in a harpist for good measure,” Remus suggested, deadpan. 

James groaned and dropped his head into his hands, “You two are insufferable-” He froze, mid-protest, his groan dying in his throat as the sound of laughter drifted across the pub. It wasn’t loud or dramatic, but the soft sound hit him square in the chest. 

 She was here. 

Of course she was. The universe had an impeccable sense of irony. 

Sirius, ever observant, followed James’s line of sight and grinned like the Cheshire Cat, “Oh, would you look at that.” He said, far too loudly for James’s liking. 

“Keep your voice down!” he hissed, “Shit. What’s she doing here?” 

Sirius and Remus exchanged a shifty glance with each other and Sirius took a slow sip from his pint, his grin growing more smug by the second.  

“You bastards!” James gasped, realisation dawning on him, “You knew she was going to be here! I thought it was weird that you picked this pub and not the Broomsticks!” 

Remus snorted, his mouth splitting into a cocky smile as he nodded. Maybe the universe wasn’t cruel, but his friends sure were.  

“Guilty as charged.” Remus sniggered. 

“Yep.” Sirius replied, popping the ‘p’, “Mary mentioned that they were coming here tonight. Thought you could do with a little push in the right direction.”  

“You planned this?”  James said incredulously, “You’ve been conspiring behind my back!” 

“More like wingmanning really,” Remus shrugged, “You go on about her all the time Prongsy. We were just... facilitating the inevitable.”  

“Right, and what was the grand plan?” James pretended to look annoyed but his heart was racing a little, “I’m supposed to just walk up to her now and –what? Spill my heart out?” 

Sirius quirked an eyebrow, “If you want to. Or you could just start with ‘Hello’. You know, like a normal bloke.”  

“Or go and buy her a drink.” Remus drained the last drop of his beer and waved the empty glass in James’s face, “It’s your round anyway.” he winked. 

James hesitated, glancing across the room to where she stood. 

“Fine.” He muttered, raking a hand through his hair, “but if this goes sideways then I’m blaming you.” 

Sirius grinned, “Oh, it’ll go brilliantly. Go get her, Romeo.” 

Okay, Potter. Play it cool. Don’t trip. Definitely don’t trip. 

James’s heart hammered in his chest as he crossed the pub, the hum of chatter and clinking glasses fading into the background. All he could focus on her- and the pounding in his chest. She looked so effortlessly radiant, standing with Mary and Lily, a drink in her hand.  

Just say hello. He told himself. It wasn’t hard. Two syllables. Completely manageable.  

When her reached their table, she turned, her smile softening when she saw him. “James, hey! I didn’t expect to see you here.”  

Step one: complete. She remembers your name. 

He shoved his hands into his pockets to keep from fidgeting, leaning casually against the table. Or at least, what he hoped looked like casually. 

“Hey. Yeah, funny coincidence, huh? Was just on my way to the bar when I saw you guys. Thought I’d come and say hello.” 

From across the room, Sirius fake coughed something that sounded suspiciously close to “liar!”. James ignored him, focusing entirely on her. As always. 

“Are you out with Sirius and Remus?” Mary asked, smiling at him knowingly. 

“Sat planning their next scheme I assume?” Lily grinned.  

“Probably.” James tried to slyly wipe his clammy palms on his jeans, “I’ve learned not to ask questions.”  

“Smart man.” Y/N smiled softly, “So, are you here to escape them?” 

“Something like that.” the tightness in his chest eased a little, “I’m just heading to get a drink. Do you want anything?” he directed the question towards her. 

“Oh, I'll come with you.” She said, standing up, “It’s my round anyway.” 

He barely managed to keep his face neutral as she fell into step beside him, the warmth of her presence making his brain short circuit.  

“So,” she said, glancing at him as they approached the bar, “Did Sirius and Remus drag you here, or was this your idea?” 

He hesitated for a second, scared that he’d been caught red handed. He could like, pretend this was all a coincidence, but something about the casual way that she asked made him think that she’s just making conversation. She doesn’t know. She can't know. She has no idea how often she’s occupied his thoughts, how ridiculous he’s been about her. 

“They had opinions of the venue,” he settled on, trying to keep his tone light, “Remus often drags us here – cheaper pints and all that.”  

She hummed, considering his answer and then picked up the menu, “So, what’s your usual?” 

James blinked. “My what?” 

“Your usual drink,” she clarified, throwing him a bemused look, “Please don’t tell me you’re one of those blokes who just orders whatever.” 

“Absolutely not.” James lied. 

Y/N narrowed her eyes playfully, “You so are.” 

James shrugged, trying not to look thrown off, “I like to keep things interesting.” 

“Yeah?” she said, clearly unconvinced, “So what are you ordering then”? 

He opened his mouth to speak before realising that he doesn’t actually care what he drinks. He couldn’t order a beer, could he? That was far too predictable. A cocktail maybe? Then, to his horror, he blurted out, “What are you getting?” 

She lifted an amused eyebrow, “What, are you going to copy me?” 

“No,” James scoffed, as it that would be ridiculous, “I’m just... curious. Looking for inspiration.” 

She pursed her lips a little, scanning the selection of bottles behind the bar, “I was thinking a rum and coke.” 

“Excellent choice.” James said, as if he had any thoughts on rum and coke whatsoever. 

“That’s what you’re getting, isn’t it?” her lips twitched into a smile. 

He gestured vaguely, “I mean, if I happen to want the same thing-”  

She laughed, shaking her head as she places their order. James exhales, wondering if this conversation is going as awfully as it feels, but she seems relaxed, like this is normal.  

Which for her, it probably is. She doesn’t know. 

“You didn’t properly answer my question earlier.” she turned back to him. 

“Which one?” 

“Why this pub?” she tilted her head, “You guys are always at the Broomsticks.” 

Shit. Shit. 

“Oh, are you stalking me now?” he teased, “Change of scenery I guess.” 

She hummed again, clearly not buying it, but before she can dig deeper, the bartender returns with their drinks.  

James latched onto the distraction like a lifeline as he paid.  

“Cheers,” he said, lifting his glass. 

She clinked her against his, smiling easily, “Cheers, Potter.” 

His name sounds too good when she says it.  

When he returned to the table, Sirius is grinning like he knows exactly what’s going on.  

James pointedly doesn’t look at him. 

She doesn’t know.  

And maybe, for now, that’s for the best. 

“You’re gone, mate.” Sirius smirks. 

“Completely gone.” Remus agrees. 

“Yeah, I know.” 

[mllemaenad]

It's fascinating that the people who have most consistently and successfully established a connection to the titans are the Grey Wardens.

I'm not trying to oversell here: what they're doing has a lot of downsides. But while there are rare incidents of a dwarf truly connecting to a titan across the Dragon Age stories ... only the Grey Wardens have found a way to do it that's even moderately predictable. Sure, the Joining might kill you. But if it doesn't – congratulations, you're linked up to the Song of the titans.

Of course, they're connecting to the corrupted dreams of the titans: the infamous blight. And the more obvious differences in that connection obviously stem from that: the infertility, the eventual corruption of their bodies, the call of the Song that can overwhelm their minds.

But it's interesting what else is going on with them. I've never seen a Grey Warden dwarf do magic, the way Valta or Harding can. But I do wonder if that's an absolute rule, or just a side effect of the way they're connected.

It does seem to reconnect dwarves to their dreams. The archdemon dreams are the most obvious example, but there's also Oghren's account of a normal dream in Awakening. I recognise that that anecdote is meant to be funny but a) it still happens and b) there's now a lot of material from Harding that could also be described as "funny stories about dreams", and we aren't meant to disbelieve her.

So why no (obvious) magic?

Well, the thing about the Joining is that it is at least an attempt to connect to the blight safely.

The Joining requires darkspawn blood. Recruits are typically sent out under the watch of an older Warden to slay darkspawn and collect the blood. This is a test to see if the recruit has the courage and ability to fight darkspawn. Once the blood is collected, the Wardens add a single drop of Archdemon blood and use magic to make it at least remotely safe to consume. Archdemon blood is among the rarest substances in all Thedas, and it makes the Joining all the more exclusive a ritual. Older Wardens carry a small amount with them at all times. – The World of Thedas Volume 1

The exact details of how the blood is prepared remain a mystery, but the Grey Wardens have clearly gained some control over it. A recruit who is suffering from the taint may not be cured of it, but if they survive the Joining they will develop a resistance that may last decades. Without the Joining they will die or become ghouls like anyone else, so while a certain resilience on the part of the recruit may be part of the magic, it certainly isn't all of it.

Prospective Wardens consume as little as possible, as safely as possible, in order to gain the skills necessary to fight darkspawn: the ability to sense their presence, a practical if not literal immunity to the taint – and the all-important archdemon-killing presence of the taint in their veins.

Most of them aren't trying to do more with it. Although, yep, Avernus has the general idea:

The taint allows us to sense the darkspawn. The longer we survive with the taint in our blood, the more potent it becomes. Unfortunately, this corruption will eventually overwhelm the Warden; over time, it devours both mind and body, leaving nothing. But what if the spread of the corruption could be stopped, or contained in some way? What if the Warden could become more powerful, without having that power kill him? How great would that power be? Would it be enough to stop the demons? The Joining ritual is crude. We take into yourself the blood of the darkspawn in the most obvious way. Most die from the corruption immediately; it is, after all, poison. There must be some way to refine the Joining. Isolate the true power that is found in darkspawn blood, and leave behind the evil that kills us. I can feel the corruption starting to take its toll on my body. I must not succumb. There is too much work to be done. Through my magic I've been able to slow its inevitable spread, but not stop it completely. I am starting to hear things, even while awake: A voice—more beautiful than any other—that calls to me from the depths. In my dreams, I see the Black City, and I am drawn towards it. There is something there, an answer to what this taint is, this taint that we share with the darkspawn… —From the notes of Avernus. – Avernus's Notes

And that's the key thing he points out: the taint within a Grey Warden grows more powerful over time. However, the mental resistance to that taint breaks down as it grows, so by the time the taint is at its full power the Warden is effectively a ghoul. Yes, there are instances of intelligent, functional ghouls – but they're not the norm.

Power develops over time. One of the first things Alistair will tell a newly recruited Hero of Ferelden is that he can sense the presence of nearby darkspawn, but you can't ... yet. That power will develop with time.

In practice, by the time most dwarven Wardens have developed enough taint in them to even attempt magic, they're in no condition to try it. And even if they were, would they think to?

By contrast, both Valta and Harding are basically smacked in the face with the raw power of lyrium. It does not grow in them slowly, it comes to them all at once – and a certain amount of involuntary magic is performed on the spot. Once it's happened, they can't ignore it. They know they can do it.

I wonder if a dwarven Warden on the brink of their Calling might be able to throw some rocks around, if they really tried.

After all: genlock emissaries have magic, and a genlock is ... not exactly a dwarf, no, but it's also not exactly not a dwarf.

[4thwallbreakerdraws2]

Decided to join @grinnames silly little event :3

Novel incoming, because I’m incapable of writing small stories-

STUCK

“YOU IDIOT! I TOLD YOU TO WAIT FOR MY SIGN!”

SMG3 quickly rolled to the side, one hand shielding his face, as a boot burrowed itself in the street, the impact sending debris through the air where 3’s body had just been a second ago.

The owner of said boot, a robotic police officer in black coat with a screen for a head, now leaned forward, a gloved hand reaching for SMG3.

The eldritch vessel quickly rolled back to his feet, his wings shoving the police officer to the side, slicing the fabric on her arm, exposing the metal beneath.

While the officer took a second to look at the damage, SMG3 used his chance to bring enough space between him and their attacker again.

A simple mission to corrupt this world’s population had taken an unexpecting turn when their first and nearest target of choice, the apparent rookie officer, had taken it upon herself to try to send them on their second trip to the afterlife.

All because SOMEONE couldn’t wait!

Said individual was currently frozen in place, hand still stretched out for an attack that he had planned before suddenly being hit by what appeared to be a timeout of some sort.

A holographic timer on SMG4’s chest was steadily ticking down, while yellow eyes were focused on 3, having clearly heard his previous insult.

Given he hadn’t managed to break free until now, 3 guessed that his partner wouldn’t be much help until those 5 minutes had run out.

Which meant he was stuck alone to deal with this homicidal peacekeeper.

“You have awful familiarity with two criminals I know of.”

3 quickly turned his focus back to the officer whose female monotone voice could now be heard for the first time.

The officer adjusted her green bowtie with one hand, before tensing up again.

“Stop resisting and I won’t have to hurt you.”

The eyes with the seemingly always bored expression and curly mouth (or were it just markings?) never changed as she spoke.

SMG3 couldn’t help but let out a cackle.

She literally nearly crushed his head just now!

“Yeah, right! And what then? Dream on, I won’t listen to some cop of all people!”, he spat, before showing a toothy grin. “Come at me!”

His opponent’s expression remained unchanging.

“Alright.”

This time SMG3 was prepared when a fist came for his head and he ducked under it, before using the open space to aim with his claws for the officer’s torso- only to have the other hand catch him by the wrist.

In the next second 3 felt himself flying through the air and he instinctively extended his wings to feather his fall.

With a thump he hit the asphalt, a frown now spread on his face, before realizing that she hadn’t let go.

The robotic officer suddenly made a side step and 3 felt a sudden tug at his wrist, as his body was suddenly spun with surprising strength.

Oh no, not this time!

Lunging forward, he fought against gravity, grabbing the officer’s arm, digging his claws through he fabric until he finally felt them dent through the metal beneath.

The hand around his wrist quickly let go and 3 dragged his claws down, as she retracted her arm, leaving a row of deep scratches before jumping back on his feet.

Behind him he could hear 4 snickering.

Glad someone was amusing himself.

Briefly looking at the turquoise liquid on his claws, 3 then grinned, before taking a stance for yet another attack.

“Not so invincible after all, huh?”, he mocked her, a grin spreading widely on his face, before freezing, when the officer suddenly made several steps back.

Usually, he would take a retreat for a win, but this wasn’t right, not after the ruthless attacks-

“DUDE! SHE’S TRYING TO FREEZE YOU!”, 4 shouted behind him.

“Shit-”, 3 cursed, as a turquoise holographic started to appear next to his opponent in the next second.

The disgraced meme guardian quickly took a step back, extending his wings, before using them to boost himself forward.

She would dodge this attack and press that button before he could harm her, he already knew that.

Which only left him one choice.

The second he reached her, he latched himself onto her, before crawling straight through the metal into her body, phasing through like a ghost.

The officer held in the midst of her motion, screen flickering and limbs twitching for a second before she suddenly shut off.

A loud thumb could be heard as the invisible power around 4 suddenly faded and he fell to the ground.

Rubbing his head, he groaned before getting back up on his feet.

“Ugh, finally…hey, 3, you still there?”

Upon mentioning the other’s name, the screen of the officer twitched again, red switching out the green metallic parts of the body that were visible before the metallic fingers broke through the gloves, turning into sharp claws.

The entire right arm now broke metallic spikes through the fabric, missing texture skin travelling around the torso and up to the screen head which now turned on again.

The before blue eyes had intol yellow ones with a pink zero serving as a pupil in the left one.

“Yeah, I’m here.”, SMG3’s now more robotic voice could be heard, before the body came into motion again, a slight grunt escaping.

“Shit, this thing’s heavy.”

“No shit…”, 4 snickered, as he walked past the hole that the officer had previously left in the ground.

“It’s weird, you know…something about this feels awfully familiar…”, 3 continued, now looking at the arms of his new body, the scratches he had left previously already starting to heal up again by the same eldritch entity that had them in its grasp as well.

“Like how?”, 4 asked, while circling 3’s newly acquired puppet.

Only now he really noticed how small the officer was.

He easily had to be one head taller.

“I don’t know, like I found something that I didn’t know was missing.”, 3 hummed, closing and opening his fists. 

“Uhhh…”

4 had stopped behind 3’s back out of which holographic like wings much like his usual ones had started to spread. The fabric along the back had been torn, giving view onto the red markings on the metallic body.

Something about it had also given 4 a familiar feeling and he quickly figured out why shen he slightly tilted his head.

“What??”, 3 now asked, annoyed at his partner’s sudden silence.

“The Godbox sign is on your back.”

“What?!”

3 spun around, an obviously futile motion given it was his back now, before chuckling.

“Holy shit, I think this thing’s running on that same power! That’s why it’s so familiar!”

“Explains that power level too!”, 4 agreed, before making an impatient hand gesture. “So does that mean you can use that timeout thing too?”

A shrug.

“I don’t know, give me some time to figure this out! Possessing a machine is a bit weird!”

After some fruitless tries, 3 finally managed to summon the same holographic screens, now tinted magenta, though with different text.

“No way…”, 3 huffed, as he started scrolling through it. “This cop has a whole set of moderation tools!”

“For real?”

4 now looked over 3’s shoulder, whistling at the different options.

“Banning too? Wonder what that can do. Hey, try one out!”

“‘Aight.”, 3 meant, eyes temporarily disappearing and being switched out with a red toothy smile. “How about mute?”

“Hey-”, 4 protested as 3’s clawed finger pressed against the command.

[Access restricted.]

“What?”, 3 growled in annoyance, pressing again to only have the same result.

“Aw maaan…”, 4 pouted, ears flicking as he shrugged. “Maybe she can’t use it either?”

3 scrolled to the timeout command which they had seen the officer use before, trying to select it.

[Access restricted.]

“What is this shit?!”, 3 now cursed, throwing hands in the hair. “What use is this body when I can’t use this?!”

“I mean…there is still that physical strength, plus metal is much more enduring.”, 4 argued, though he was also slightly disappointed.

“True.”, 3 grumbled, before his grin grew slightly wicked again. “Imagine the damage I could do- AGH-”

“3?”

A warning sign appeared on the screen, as 3 suddenly started twitching, before the yellow eyes faded to blue.

A hand lashed out, stopping around 4’s throat, twitching as it found itself unable to close around the skin as something was holding her back.

“You’re in so many violations right now.”

The former meme guardian, made a step back out of reach, hiding his surprise behind a smirk.

“Oh, so you’re still conscious.”

“I will always be alerted of a crime or it being planned.”

“Listen, cop-”

“Officer Mod.”

“Right.”, 4 meant carelessly, making an uncaring hand gesture. “Just let my partner have full control and you don’t have to be there for any of this! Just take a break!”

A huff followed and it was the first time the two of them heard a change of emotion in Mod’s voice.

“No matter which version of you, you sure love to undermine my mission. Fine by me. People learn best through consequences after all. Just know this was you and not me.”

Then the red was back with 3 cursing.

“That little shit locked me out!”

The other fallen meme guardian shook his head.

“Let’s just get rid of her and search for someone else to possess.”

3 seemed to consider it for a second, before tsking.

“Y’know what? You’re right for once.”

Silence followed with 3 standing still.

“Well?”, 4 spoke up again after a while.

Another short silence.

Then 3 spoke, voice slightly pitched in disbelief.

“I’m stuck.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Anyway hope you liked this small story :3

I chose my OC Mod since I found that it could be fun to insert someone in this who already is involved in the Godbox lore beforehand!

So yeah if you read the whole thing you now know more Mod lore than anyone ever before lol

Some facts about Mod:

She’s working as a police officer in Hal’s department to fulfill her mission of creating a world of order

She’s built from Godbox scraps that were retrieved after it got destroyed by the meme guardians

the scraps give her an unlimited energy source, though she has to recharge if he she uses it up too quickly

her engineer somehow figured out how to use the Godbox powers for moderational use instead of courruption

however it still has slightly negative effects on her her such as making her heavily obsessed with rules (though her programming also is at fault) as well as rather cold

she’s a rational thinker, way too rational for the goofy world that is SMG4

emotions are new territory for her, she usually doesn’t even know what she’s feeling

She’s rather violent though that’s mainly because that’s how she’s taught to act with criminals

Some things I imagine for Mod in this scenario:

Due to also having the power of the Godbox as well as being practically an anti-virus to SMG3, she is capable of keeping him contained to a certain level

however SMG3 is still able to take control of her whole body

Mod can communicate over pop up windows

She could technically let SMG3 leave, but her programming restricts her from just letting a criminal go free

her programming could also lock SMG3 temporarily out and take control whenever it detects a crime happening (I will leave that one up to you tho sjsk)

Since you want to make your own take on the Posessed collection, I refrained from designing Possessed!Mod myself. I still hope you like this idea lol

My god, whoever reads through all this you’re a soldier lmao

[all-our-turf]

scared to live (scared to die)

Ajax and Swan are out on a mission when they have a run in with the cops. It rattles Ajax more than she was prepared for.

--

explored swan & ajax dynamic post canon but also lots of remjax and background swercy! read under the cut or on ao3 !!

+++++

It wasn’t often that Cleon sent anyone out with express permission to start a fight, but when she got wind of a group of guys harassing women on the edge of Warrior turf, she told Ajax and Swan to “handle it”. 

Ajax suspects it might have been a ploy to try and get her and Swan to actually talk to each other, but Cleon underestimated just how willing the two of them were to spend the entire walk in dead silence. 

Ever since Ajax got out of jail, things between her and Swan have been - well. Complicated, to say the least. The first few days were especially volatile, and Ajax knows she hasn’t done much to make it easier. Once the burning anger faded away, she and Swan seemed content to avoid each other, despite some of the other Warriors trying to get them to just talk about it. But everything between them - everything they probably should say to one another - felt too heavy, too wide and dangerous of a distance to even attempt to cross. 

Which brings them to where they are now, walking side by side and refusing to look at each other. Ajax shoves her hands deeper into her pockets, trying to ignore the way her mind is buzzing in the tense silence. Before leaving, Rembrandt had asked her to try, and part of Ajax wanted to. 

She hates this weird limbo they’re in, hates that it’s putting Rembrandt and the other Warriors in an awkward position. She knows Rembrandt wants things to go back to how they used to be, and Ajax can admit that she wants that too. If Cleon had given her and Swan this mission six months ago, they would’ve spent the whole time shoving at each other and bickering playfully, placing bets on who could end their fight the fastest, and Ajax felt a pang of longing go through her at the thought. 

But nothing done could be undone. And considering how Swan hasn’t made any effort to cross that bridge either, Ajax doesn’t know if there’s any hope of salvaging what’s left of their relationship. 

She’s brought out of her depressing train of thought by the sound of shouting up ahead, and as her and Swan turn a corner they find what they set out to look for. 

There’s a group of four guys up ahead, whistling and getting closer to a girl who couldn’t have been older than 16. Ajax glances over at Swan and finds her already looking back, the same fury lighting up in her eyes. Despite the situation, Ajax grasps onto this one moment of normalcy, of her and Swan being on the same page for what must be the first time since before that night. Without a word, they both stalk forward towards the guys. 

“What’s going on over here, boys?” Swan calls out, a clear warning in her voice as they approach. 

Go as far as you need to get the point across. 

Cleon’s words echo in Ajax’s head as her and Swan place themselves in front of the girl. She hears the girl inhale sharply at the sight of the red W on the back of their vests. Ajax glances back and finds her staring at them in wide eyed awe, and for a moment she’s reminded of Fox. The memory of her lodges itself painfully in her chest. Ajax lets it fester into anger. 

“Just talkin’. You ladies shouldn’t be out by your lonesome this late, ya know.” The one in the front says, his voice a sleazy drawl. The others chuckle at his words. 

“This is Warriors territory. Fuck off while you still can.” Swan’s itching for just as much a fight as Ajax is, clearly, considering her half assed efforts to diffuse the situation with words. 

The guys laugh again, and one of them is stupid enough to take a step closer, nearly leaning into Swan’s space. 

“Don’t worry, there’s more than enough of us to go around. I’m sure I could show you a good time.” He bares his teeth in what he must think is a charming smile. He reaches a hand out towards Swan’s face and Ajax flexes her fingers at her side, but keeps her eyes locked on the other three so they don’t try anything. “I bet a girl like you likes it rough, I -” 

His sentence cuts off in a cry of pain when Swan stops him from touching her - probably by breaking his fingers. Ajax doesn’t give the others time to react. 

“Think it’s funny to harass women, motherfuckers? Fucking try it with us,” She snarls, sending the first guy crumpling to the floor with a violent kick between his legs, punching wildly at the other as he tries to get his arms up to block. She suspects the third one has gone to defend his friend against Swan, but considering the pathetic noises the two in front of her are letting out, she’s not too worried about Swan holding her own. 

Ajax vaguely registers the girl they saved running off, but she can’t bring herself to care much about anything other than the assholes in front of her. It’s been too long since she got to throw herself into a fight like this, and maybe if Ajax were a better person she’d think of that as a good thing. Cleon’s been working so hard to make Cyrus’s dream a reality, to make it so they don’t have to fight, but this anger - this violence - has been a part of Ajax for as long as she can remember, has clawed and ravaged at her insides, begging to be let out, and the urge has only gotten stronger since that night. Since Fox. Since prison. Since Swan stopped being able to look at her. 

Ajax doesn’t think you could even call this a fight, really, but she doesn’t stop. The guys are on the ground, barely moving, but she can’t bring herself to stop, even as something crunches under her fists and her knuckles split open and blood spills over her hands. Swan never moves to stop her, and Ajax suspects Swan is taking the same chance to finally let loose in the way she always holds herself back from. 

They’ve always been more similar than either would care to admit. Ajax knows the anger that rages inside her also lays dormant inside Swan. Ajax wonders if they’ve been carrying the same pain for the past few months. 

“Hey! You two! Stop!” 

It’s not the voice that pulls Ajax out of her head - it’s the way the world flashes blue and red immediately after, the sound of sirens piercing through the air. Something foreign curls in her chest - something that makes her lungs stop working and every muscle in her body tense. 

This feels too familiar.

She remembers the park, the metal closing around her wrist, the concrete box she was locked in for weeks. Being away from Rembrandt, from the Warriors, not being there to protect the people she was supposed to protect. 

It must be panic that’s taking root in her chest because all Ajax can think is that she can’t go back there. 

Suddenly Swan’s in front of her, grabbing onto the fabric of Ajax’s vest and shoving her forward.

“Ajax, fucking run!”

And for the first time in her life, Ajax doesn’t stop to question the orders. She turns and takes off at a sprint, away from those fucking lights. 

Her feet pound against the pavement, but she can hardly hear anything over the deafening sound of her own heartbeat in her ears. Judging by the sharp pain that blooms in her side, Ajax doesn’t think she even breathes. She can’t even think of anything aside from getting as far from those fucking cops as possible - of making it back home. 

She makes it all the way back to the Warriors’ apartment building, flying halfway up the steps before she finally starts to come back to herself. She grasps at the railing, desperately gasping for air and listening for the sound of anyone chasing her. 

She can still hear the sirens, but they’re further away now, and when she turns there isn’t another person in sight. 

Ajax freezes for an entirely different reason, her stomach dropping. 

Swan isn’t behind her. 

Ajax waits, a lump in her throat, hoping, wishing, praying that at any moment now Swan will whirl around the corner, indifferent as always, and make a quip about Ajax worrying about her. The seconds tick by. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

Ajax flies up the rest of the stairs, pounding on the door to Cleon’s apartment, where the others are likely waiting for their return. 

The door finally opens, and Cleon’s suddenly in front of her with a warm smile that immediately fades at the sight of Ajax. 

“What happened?” 

She ushers Ajax inside to the living room, where the others are sprawled out. Everyone sits up when she comes in, and Rembrandt is in front of her in half a second. 

“Ajax? What’s wrong?” Rembrandt cups her face with the softest hands, soft in a way Ajax doesn’t deserve right now. Not when she just ran and left Swan behind. “Baby, you’re shaking.”

“Where’s Swan?”

Ajax looks up, meeting Mercy’s gaze over Rembrandt’s head. She feels like her insides are trembling, and she’s briefly worried she’s about to throw up in front of everyone. 

“I -“ Ajax’s voice hitches uncharacteristically. “I don’t know.”

Mercy’s face twists, and before anyone can react she’s ripping Ajax from Rembrandt’s grip, shoving her against a wall and fisting a hand into her collar. 

“What the fuck do you mean you don’t know?!”

Ajax swallows harshly, forcing herself not to look away from the storm raging in Mercy’s eyes and lifting a hand up to stop Rembrandt from trying to get in between them. 

“Cops pulled up on us,” she forces the words out, and everyone in the room seems to go still, the same thought likely flitting through their heads. 

Not again. 

“They took her?” Cleon clenches her fists at her side as she fights to keep her voice even. She’s not successful in hiding the way it wavers around the words. 

“No I - I don’t know. She told me to run and I took off. I thought she was right behind me but -“ Ajax cuts herself off, feeling the way Mercy’s grip tightens around her collar. 

“How fucking far did you run before you realized she wasn’t with you?” Mercy’s voice is quiet, dangerous, and Ajax swallows harshly, guilt threatening to suffocate her if Mercy doesn’t do it first. 

She must take too long to answer because Mercy is pulling her forward just enough to slam her back into the wall, voice raising into a yell. “How fucking far, Ajax?”

“Mercy, come on, this isn’t going to help.” Cochise tries to intervene, placing a hand on Mercy’s shoulder. Mercy shrugs it away without taking her eyes off of Ajax. 

“I only realized once I made it back here,” Ajax finally admits, her head hanging. “I don’t know if I lost her on the way or if -“

She’s cut off by Mercy’s fist slamming into her cheekbone. 

Mercy manages to get three solid hits in before Cochise and Cowgirl are wrenching her away, and Rembrandt is stepping protectively in front of Ajax. Mercy curses, flailing wildly in their grip. 

“Enough!” Cleon’s voice makes everyone freeze, rough and raw in a way it rarely is. She’s leaning heavily on the back of the couch, gripping onto it so tightly her knuckles turn pale. She takes a carefully controlled breath. Then another. Finally, she looks up, pinning Ajax in place with her stare. “Ajax. Tell me exactly what happened.” 

Ajax nods immediately, and Rembrandt guides her to sit in an armchair. She collapses into it, watching as Cochise and Cowgirl gently push Mercy down to sit on the couch. 

Ajax is still shaking. 

She manages to fumble her way through the story, starting from the moment they saw those guys pulling up on the young girl. There’s not much to say. The last thing Ajax remembers is Swan shoving her forward and telling her to run. Everything else feels like a blur. 

“We have to go look for her.” Mercy frantically looks at Cleon, but Cleon just shakes her head. “Cleon -“

“They either took her in or are still out looking. Going out just risks the rest of us. All we can do is wait.” Cleon looks like she’d rather be saying anything else. 

“This is bullshit!” Mercy jumps to her feet, gesturing wildly. “If it were anyone else, Swan would be -“

“Swan would be telling you the same thing I am.”

“If any of us got into trouble because we went out looking, Swan would never forgive herself,” Cochise adds, reaching out to grab Mercy’s hand. 

Mercy makes a frustrated noise in the back of her throat. Her gaze lands on Ajax again, and her face darkens. 

Rembrandt immediately puts herself in between Ajax and Mercy. 

“Rembrandt, move.”

“No. You don’t get to blame Ajax for this.”

“Like hell I don’t -“

“Swan can keep up with Ajax just fine - if she wanted to run with her she would’ve. She made a different choice, that’s not on Ajax.”

Mercy laughs humorlessly, but Rembrandt continues before she gets a chance to disagree. 

“Was it Swan’s fault when Ajax got arrested?”

Mercy goes still, jaw clenching tight. Ajax rises to her feet, reaching out to grab Rembrandt’s arm and pull her back. “Rem, don’t -“

Rembrandt ignores her, keeping her eyes on Mercy, the two of them locked in a tense staring contest. “You’re scared and you’re looking for someone to blame. I’ve been there, remember? But you don’t get to take your emotions out on Ajax.”

“Why not?” Mercy sneers cruelly. “Isn’t that what Ajax did to Swan after getting out of prison?”

Ajax flinches as if the words were a physical blow. She feels sick to her stomach. 

“Okay, maybe let’s all take a breath and calm down.” Cochise makes an effort to pull Mercy back to the couch, but Mercy roughly pushes her away. 

“No, fuck that.” Mercy instead takes a step closer to Ajax and Rembrandt. “You were handcuffed to a bench, surrounded, and Swan still nearly stayed behind to try and help you. Did you even hesitate before turning and running?” 

“This is not the same.” Rembrandt’s voice hardens.

Mercy ignores her. “You couldn’t even be bothered to fucking glance back to see where she was?”

Ajax can barely breathe around the lump in her throat, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. Rembrandt doesn’t give her a chance to speak even if she wanted to. 

“What difference would it have made?!” Rembrandt shoves Mercy back with a hand on her chest. “Back the fuck off. Like Cleon said, either Swan got caught or she didn’t. Ajax wouldn’t have been able to do anything about it either way.”

“At least then we’d fucking know!” Mercy screams. “If you’d just cared enough about Swan to look, to fucking check if she was with you before you up and left her behind, maybe then we’d know if she was caught or if she ran another way or - or -“ Mercy’s voice breaks around the unspoken alternative, and she presses a hand to her mouth to muffle a strangled sob.

“Mercy -“ Cowgirl reaches for her, but Mercy shoves her way past them and disappears down the hall. The door to her and Swan’s bedroom slams shut a moment later.  

“Fuck.” Ajax crumples back into her chair, burying her head in her hands. Rembrandt kneels down in front of her with a sigh, grabbing onto Ajax’s wrists and rubbing soothing circles into her skin. 

“Come on,” Rembrandt murmurs softly. “Let’s get your hands cleaned up.” 

Ajax blinks, looking down at her knuckles. They’re still split open and bleeding from the fight, but she hadn’t even registered the pain. Her body feels wired, heart pounding with adrenaline from her sprint here. Still, she nods and lets Rembrandt lead her over to the kitchen table, where Cochise joins them with the first aid kit. 

Cochise is almost done, wrapping her knuckles carefully in bandages, when Ajax startles at a hand falling heavily on her shoulder. She looks up to find Cleon standing there, her gaze unfocused and jaw clenching as if she’s trying desperately to hold herself together. Ajax braces herself, expecting the worst. 

But Cleon just inhales shakily and squeezes her shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault.” 

Ajax doesn’t respond, keeping her eyes trained on the table in front of her. Cleon sighs, like she expected this. She squeezes her shoulder once more before letting go. “You’re still shaking. Go up to the roof with Rembrandt and try to calm down.” 

She doesn’t phrase it as a request, so once Cochise finishes with her hands Ajax rises to her feet and heads out the door, Rembrandt right behind her. 

Ajax immediately goes to lean against the railing, tilting her head to stare up at the night sky and willing her heart to return to a normal rhythm. She fishes a cigarette out from her pocket and holds it between trembling fingers. 

“It wasn’t your fault.” Rembrandt leans into her side, echoing Cleon’s words. “I meant everything I said to Mercy. You couldn’t have done anything.” 

“If someone had to stay behind it should’ve been me,” Ajax says quietly. 

“Ajax -”

“No, you know it’s true. Swan’s our number two, the Warriors need her - Cleon needs her -”

“That doesn’t mean her life is worth more than yours -”

“But it is!” Ajax snaps, and they both freeze. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

“Ajax,” Rembrandt’s voice wavers around her name. Ajax stubbornly avoids her gaze, so Rembrandt reaches forward to cup her face. Their eyes meet, and Ajax swallows at the intensity she finds in Rembrandt’s. “I need you here. Do you understand that? I wouldn’t be able to handle you getting taken away again.” 

Ajax huffs, but Rembrandt’s grip on her tightens. “I’m fucking serious. I could barely do it the first time around, I won’t survive having to do it again.” 

“I don’t think I would either,” Ajax finally admits shamefully. She squeezes her eyes shut. “I fucking ran, Rem. Those cops showed up and it - it was like it was that night again and I couldn’t even move until Swan snapped me out of it, and then I couldn’t think of anything other than getting away and making it back to you. I - I was -” Ajax chokes on her words. 

“Scared,” Rembrandt finishes for her, tugging Ajax forward. Ajax falls into her, burying her face into Rembrandt’s shoulder with a pathetic whimper as she starts to finally feel the events of the night come crashing down on her. 

“I can’t go back there.” Her words are barely more than a whisper. 

Rembrandt cups the back of her head. “You won’t. You made it back home to me, Ajax. That’s the most important thing.” 

Ajax shudders, wrapping her arms tight around Rembrandt’s waist. Ajax has no idea how much time passes while they stay there, wrapped in each other's arms, swaying lightly. Eventually, she breaks the silence, mumbling, “Mercy’s never gonna forgive me for this. Swan might not either.” 

Rembrandt frowns. “Swan told you to run and you did. Even if she did get caught, she wouldn’t hold it against you. You know Swan’s not like that.” 

Ajax shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know anything when it comes to me and Swan anymore.” 

Something a little sad flashes across Rembrandt’s face, but she doesn’t bother trying to dispute the claim. Instead she sighs, and they both shift to look over the railing. 

“The thought of Swan and Mercy going through what we did…fuck, I can’t even stomach it,” Ajax says, staring down at her hands. She’s still dangling a cigarette loosely between her fingers, but she makes no effort to light it. 

“We don’t know if she was caught,” Rembrandt reminds her quietly. “But…yeah. Me neither. If it’d been you they’d probably lock you away for longer, though, since you have a record from barely a few months ago. Maybe - maybe we’d be able to get Swan out faster.” 

Ajax shakes her head. “Swan spent half her childhood in juvie. Her record’s worse than mine is.” 

“Fuck.” Rembrandt swallows harshly. “We don’t know if she was caught.” She repeats the words, though Ajax suspects she’s trying to reassure herself just as much. They desperately hold on to this shred of hope. 

+++++

Eventually, Ajax and Rembrandt head back down to join the others in Cleon’s apartment. Mercy’s come out of her room, her eyes red rimmed, but she doesn’t look in Ajax’s direction. Ajax isn’t sure if that’s better or worse.

They heat up leftovers from the fridge, but no one seems to have much of an appetite. A silence settles heavily over the apartment. 

There’s nothing to do but wait. 

The night drags on, but there’s no sign of Swan. Cochise and Cowgirl have sprawled out on the floor in a nest of blankets, both of them having dozed off a few hours in. Rembrandt is half conscious against Ajax’s shoulder on the couch. Mercy paces through the apartment like a caged animal, while Cleon sits by the phone and stares at the door. Despite the night she’s had, Ajax can’t bring herself to sleep, so she watches Rembrandt and tries to quiet the voices in her head screaming that this is her fault. 

The sun is just starting to rise when there’s the distinct sound of a key scraping the lock of the front door. Ajax startles so violently that she knocks Rembrandt’s head from where it was resting, and her girlfriend blinks awake. Cleon and Mercy are across the room in half a second, yanking the door open. 

Ajax barely catches a glimpse of Swan before Mercy is throwing herself at her, both of them stumbling into the hallway. Mercy’s yelling, and she can hear Swan murmuring reassurances to try and calm her down, and the commotion has Cochise and Cowgirl jerking awake. The two of them scramble to their feet when they realize what’s going on, rushing towards the door and hollering excitedly. Eventually, Swan seems to manage to extricate herself from Mercy’s grip, and Ajax hears the first thing she asks. 

“Where’s Ajax?” Swan’s voice is low, dangerous, and Rembrandt immediately tenses next to her. 

Ajax squeezes her hand, murmuring quickly, “Don’t try to get in between us.” 

“But -”

“Please. Let me handle it.” 

Rembrandt clenches her jaw, but nods reluctantly, and Ajax rises unsteadily to her feet. The others finally move enough to let Swan through and into the apartment, and she sees Swan’s eyes frantically scan over the living room before landing on her. Swan looks rough, covered in grime and sweat, and there’s a few scrapes along her exposed skin and rips in her clothes. Her knuckles look much like Ajax’s did, bruised and bloody, but she doesn’t seem injured beyond that. There’s something wild in Swan’s expression that sets Ajax on edge. 

“Swan. I -” Ajax doesn’t get to finish her sentence, because suddenly Swan is crossing the room and gripping onto the front of her shirt. Ajax braces herself for a blow. 

But a blow never comes. Instead, Swan is yanking her forward into a fierce embrace, burying her head into Ajax’s shoulder. Ajax shares a wide eyed look with Rembrandt, and finds the other Warriors seem equally dumb founded. Cleon's expression morphs into a sad smile, and she nods at Ajax. 

Ajax doesn’t hesitate, wrapping her arms around Swan’s back and fisting her hands in the back of her vest, holding her just as tightly. Swan’s trembling slightly against her, but Ajax’s movement prompts her to relax even further into the enforcer’s body, letting out a relieved exhale. Ajax feels something settle in her chest, and she lets her own body finally relax, her head falling forward to rest against Swan’s. 

Swan pulls away first, but it’s only enough to lean her forehead against Ajax’s in a gesture that used to be normal for them, but Ajax can’t help the strangled gasp that escapes her at the motion. There’s tears threatening to slip down her cheeks, but she doesn’t move to put any distance between them, instead stares down at Swan and finds the same vulnerability staring back at her. She can’t remember the last time her and Swan even looked this closely at each other, much less without all their carefully guarded walls. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Am I okay?” Ajax scoffs wetly. “Are you?” 

Swan nods slowly. “Yeah. Better now.”

Ajax flexes her fingers in the fabric of Swan’s vest before splaying her palms out, feeling the rapid pounding of Swan’s heart. She finds she can breathe easier knowing Swan’s here, that she’s alive, that she won’t have to go through what Ajax went through at the hands of those fucking cops. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Swan furrows her brow, leaning back slightly to look at Ajax properly and tilting her head. Ajax meets her gaze, hoping Swan can read her expression and understand everything Ajax is trying to say with those two words. 

And Swan does, because she nods again and wraps Ajax in another hug. “Yeah. Me too.” 

Ajax feels like a weight has been lifted off her chest when her and Swan finally separate from each other. The corner of her mouth lifts in a tentative smile. “You look like shit, by the way.” 

Swan huffs out a laugh, shoving lightly at Ajax’s shoulder, and Ajax’s heart leaps at the familiar gesture. Their moment’s broken by Rembrandt pushing past Ajax and jumping at Swan, her arms wrapping around Swan’s neck. 

Swan stumbles slightly in surprise, but a split second later she’s hugging Rembrandt back, lifting the tagger off of her feet. Ajax knows the tension between her and Swan has affected Rembrandt’s relationship with her too, and she can’t help but grin at the sight of them now. She glances past them and spots Cochise and Cowgirl excitedly nudging each other. Cleon’s got a relieved smile growing on her face, and Ajax thinks maybe all the Warriors have been desperate for Ajax and Swan to sort their shit out. 

Well - almost all of them. Mercy’s staring at Ajax with narrowed eyes, her mouth twisted to the side. Ajax looks away.  

Swan finally sets Rembrandt back on her feet, and Ajax catches the quiet words Rembrandt whispers to her. 

“Thank you for getting her home.” 

Swan nods, and Rembrandt finds her way to Ajax’s side as Mercy takes her place wrapped around Swan, holding on like she’s worried Swan will slip through her fingers. Ajax knows the feeling. 

“So,” Cowgirl drawls. “Where the hell have you been? You were gone for hours.” 

“Why didn’t you run with Ajax?” Cleon narrows her eyes, and Swan sighs heavily like she’d been expecting this question. 

“They had two patrol cars, and even if we got away I didn’t want them sniffing around so close to where we all live. So I ran the other way. Well - I chucked a rock through their window and then ran the other way.” 

Ajax can’t stop herself from snorting at that. Mercy and Cleon make varying noises of disapproval, but Swan ignores them. 

“I led them on a chase halfway across the island before finding a spot to lay low until they were gone. Assholes stuck around for longer than I hoped they would, but once they fucked off I came straight back.”

They all look at Cleon, waiting. Cleon pinches the bridge of her nose and inhales heavily. 

“You can’t be mad at me for this - I made the right call!” Swan defends herself preemptively from the oncoming lecture. 

“I’m not mad at you.” Cleon pauses, reconsidering. “Well maybe a little for throwing a rock through a cop’s window.” 

Swan winces, and Ajax presses a hand to her mouth to muffle another amused chuckle. 

“Hey, maybe we finish this conversation later? Sounds like Swan’s had a long night,” Ajax says, studying Swan. If Ajax was tired from the sprint back home, she can only imagine how drained Swan must be after getting chased all night. 

She notices how heavily Swan’s leaning against Mercy, the exhaustion that clings to her expression, and she knows she’s right. Cleon seems to come to the same conclusion. 

“Yeah. I think we’re all in need of some sleep. Swan, let Cochise bandage your knuckles and any other rough scrapes and then go to bed. Everyone else, find somewhere to sleep, I don’t want anyone leaving this apartment just yet.”

Swan throws Ajax a grateful smile, collapsing into a chair at the kitchen table. Mercy stands behind her, and Swan leans her head back against Mercy’s stomach and lets her eyes flutter shut. Mercy carefully brushes her hair back from her face, and it’s a testament to how exhausted Swan must be because she holds her hands out for Cochise without complaint. 

Ajax busies herself with helping Rembrandt and Cleon distribute pillows and blankets. Cowgirl’s already returned to her nest on the floor, well on her way to sleep. Cochise works quickly, determining none of the other scrapes require attention and telling Mercy to take her girl to bed before she passes out on the table. 

A small smile curls at Ajax’s lips as she watches Swan grumble discontentedly when Mercy coaxes her out of the chair. She tugs Swan down towards their bedroom, but Swan pauses in the living room. The night seems to have fully caught up to her now, but she stumbles groggily towards where the other three Warriors are standing by the couch. She reaches Rembrandt first, wrapping the smaller girl in a brief hug. Cleon’s grabbing her the moment the two separate, and Ajax can practically see the relief pouring off the warchief in waves as she nearly suffocates Swan in her grip, prompting half hearted protests. Cleon presses a kiss to the top of Swan’s head before finally letting go. 

Ajax fidgets awkwardly for a moment, but Swan falls easily into her, and Ajax hugs back just as fiercely. 

She finds Mercy staring at her over Swan’s head, and Ajax leaves her expression open for Mercy to read whatever she wants from it. Mercy’s eyes shift to where Swan is leaning heavily against Ajax, her head nestled comfortable under Ajax’s chin. 

Mercy softens, and when she looks at Ajax again she nods in acknowledgement. Ajax returns it. It’s not perfect, but it’s enough for now. 

Later, Mercy and Swan have disappeared to their room, and Rembrandt is fast asleep on top of Ajax on the couch. She can hear Cowgirl’s quiet snores on the other side of the room. Cochise is bunking with Cleon, and Ajax assumes both of them are fast asleep too. Ajax stares up at the ceiling, breathing slow as she gets lost in her head. 

She can finally admit to herself that yeah - today was fucking terrifying. But only because she has so much to lose. 

Maybe this whole being emotionally vulnerable thing wasn’t so bad, though. 

Rembrandt shifts against her, nuzzling in closer, and Ajax settles into a feeling of warm contentment.

They’ll be okay. 

[bwat5-blog]

1. "Sorry but whatever cait did was unjustified. Yeah, sure, she was mourning but.. that doesn’t mean she can’t apologize to Vi for hitting her in the gut for holding her back from shooting a child?"

I..... I legitimately cannot comprehend where this need to reduce everything Caitlyn went through down to the death of her mother is coming from. I have addressed it over, and over, and over. I don't say that like "I said it why isn't anyone listening?" (I'm just another random) I say it to reiterate I have tried and tried to puzzle this out and I just. Cant....For the sake of this post, let's run it down again!

A: Survives being lured into burning building by Jinx and being blown up. Many of her peers did not and Jinx used a fake child's voice to do it.

B: Has to shoot Sevika to save Vi

C: Survives obviously frightening and stressful escape from Silco and shimmer addicts

D: Survives fight with firelights and first meeting with Jinx in which Jinx is clearly unstable

E: Leader of her organization shoots Ekko and then is preparing to shoot her. None of the Enforcers on the bridge move to stop him (thank you @knightsofrayx)

F: Survives explosion on the bridge that kills many that is set off by Jinx

G: Survives being shot at by Jinx

H: Abducted by Jinx from her childhood home. From the bathroom. While naked. Dressed in her Enforcer uniform. Recent sources seem to confirm Jinx had her for an entire day.

Additionally, less certain but I have seen multiple people suggesting Jinx may have tortured Caitlyn for information due to her knowing Vi calls Caitlyn cupcake - AGAIN I ADMIT THIS ONE IS MORE SPECULATIVE

I: Bound and gagged with a mask on her face, she has to listen to Jinx trying to convince Vi to murder her

J: Spares Jinx at Vi's pleading only to be violently knocked out

K: After sparing Jinx, Caitlyn has to watch helplessly as Jinx fires the missile that kills not only her own mother, but two other councilors as well. In addition to maiming two others, destroying the council chamber, and setting off the sequence of events that guarantees Piltovan retaliation.

L: Caitlyn is almost killed during Renni's attack on the memorial for her mother and the other two councilors. Several people are killed.

M: Engages in strike team operation in Zaun targeting Chem-barons and shimmer while hunting Jinx. For those blessed enough to have never known violence in real life you wouldn't understand this. It leaves a mark no matter the context.

N: Survives brutal brawl with Sevika.

O: After sparing Jinx the first time for Vi, and Vi swearing she was ready to end it this time, Vi stops her shot. And here's the thing. Vi was clearly right. But Caitlyn is not just angry. She is traumatized and she is TERRIFIED of Jinx. That whole fight and what follows in the Pipeworks she is not in her right mind. Caitlyn is the "final girl" of a horror movie, except when she got ready to deal the killing blow to the monster all she could process was the person she loved and trusted was stopping her. Letting the object of her fear and rage and pain walk free.

2. "that doesn’t mean she can’t apologize to Vi for hitting her in the gut for holding her back from shooting a child?"

Oh my good god you people. Unless I'm mistaken Vi apologizes to Jinx when they are reunited, and Power says she's sorry (I think) when she realizes what happened to their family. THATS. IT. Caitlyn's character is quite literally never displayed as being overly emotional or the type to show actions through words. And listen. I am truly a sap. I love the big overly emotional moments and speeches, the breakdowns over wronging those you love, those moments hit me like a freight train. But that isn't who Caitlyn is and it never has been. The instances of her showing remorse are plentiful and profound. I quite frankly don't feel like listing them all again. So I'll go with the easiest one:

We are hunting some kind of murderous beast: Caitlyn

Oh that's my dad: Vi

Caitlyn to Ambessa:

3. "Cait’s logic: “Oh! My wifey’s having a breakout cus her suicidal little sister ran away? Mmm, kinda wanna flirt and have sex with her!”"

Caitlyn is the only reason Jinx was able to go free

Neither of them knew Jinx was suicidal. Stop confusing what we as the omnipotent audience know with what the other characters know.

Caitlyn was quite clearly trying to break the tension. Vi initiated and anyone with eyes can tell Caitlyn was surprised.

Vi is standing in front of Caitlyn, lamenting that she had lost everyone because of her choices. Caitlyn isn't stupid. She knows that A: Vi has no idea Caitlyn had moved the guards for exactly this purpose B: Vi, the woman Caitlyn loves, is sitting there thinking she just released Caitlyn's mothers killer and Caitlyn is probably about to completely unload on her meaning she is well and truly alone.

She goes in to comfort her. To make her see she isn't alone. To tell her she is laying down her hate for Jinx in favor of her love for Vi that Vi's making the choice to love and believe in her sister wasn't wrong. Caitlyn has given multiple statements leading up to this that show us her putting herself on equal footing with jinx. So maybe if Vi can keep believing in Jinx, she can keep believing in Caitlyn to. Even when Caitlyn has stopped believing in herself. And Vi responds by allowing herself that happiness and pleasure and impulsivity with the woman she loves that she has never allowed. @sapphiresaphics point is perfectly valid as well for Christ's sake you are also JUST. WRONG.

4. "I hate how Vi’s potentially was just spat down the drain. My girl violet, the eldest sibling, ended up depending on an enforcer. Cool. Totally cool."

Yea I'm gonna be honest I'm not really sure what you mean here. I realize first of all you meant potential (I may come for bad takes but I am the LAST person who can judge for typos) but I'm not sure what you mean by her potential being spat down the drain?

I guess your whole issue that she ended up with an Enforcer? Which I mean yea... Caitlyn is one. But if you cannot see all the points that differentiate her from the standard Enforcer who was part of the corrupt and violent system there is really nothing to discuss.

I’m back only to say thar, as controversial as this might be, caitvi was NOT properly represented.

Sorry but whatever cait did was unjustified. Yeah, sure, she was mourning but.. that doesn’t mean she can’t apologize to Vi for hitting her in the gut for holding her back from shooting a child? I love how this fandom is, now, all about lesbian sex. Feel like if caitvi talked it out, the sex would’ve been so much more emotional. ykwim!

Cait’s logic: “Oh! My wifey’s having a breakout cus her suicidal little sister ran away? Mmm, kinda wanna flirt and have sex with her!”

Also, Cait never got consequences for all the things she did (from her gf). And, I hate how Vi’s potentially was just spat down the drain. My girl violet, the eldest sibling, ended up depending on an enforcer. Cool. Totally cool.

Season two was fucked. Been fucked, I just knew I’d get dragged if I said something.

[indigospyder]

I just finished S3 of RQG and I want to sob, I KNEW they were gonna disappear but Azu saying “I never got to thank Grizzop” BROKE ME

[bibxrbie]

"Between Anakin and Luke who is the better Jedi?"

"Who's the strongest?"

Blah blah blah.

Every single person who thinks it is Anakin is wrong because Anakin "coolest thing about me is my kids" Skywalker would beat you up for thinking that his son isn't the greatest thing of all time.