#after hearing those painful jokes during the quest

[chaotic-cheshire]

Me, seeing that I have enough for a single pull: I guess I'll try it on Cyno's banner but what are the chances that he'll actually come home

*not even a second later*

Me:

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Can I see Furina, Navia, Lynette, and Yae Miko dealing with their S/O who wears a mask all the time and never seen your face before? S/O got hurt badly protecting them and they took S/O mask off and see what S/O looks like and help them.

(Genshin Impact) Furina, Navia, and Lynette with a S/O who wears a mask

This is the way. I'd do Yae but my brain is at maximum capacity writing for the three, so remind me to write Yae later!

POTENTIAL POST-ARCHON QUEST SPOILERS FOR THE FONTAINE CHARACTERS UNDER THE CUT!

Furina had become very used to the sight of her S/O's mask.

It was reminiscent of a theatre mask, fittingly enough. The holes for the eyes were completely black, and there was no expression for the mouth.

No one could identify what S/O was feeling, other than determining it by voice alone.

Many people found it suspicious, but she wasn't one to judge.

Especially since Furina herself wore a metaphorical mask for the past few centuries.

And besides, there were far more suspicious people in Tevyat than the one person just covering their face.

Furina had grown to love S/O since they did the same for her. They cared for the person underneath the facade, and Furina did the same.

During their travels, they had come under attack by rogue Meka and were caught off guard.

Although Furina cannot not die, S/O very much could, and had gotten terribly injured during the skirmish.

===

(Furina) "S/O!"

Furina quickly dispatched the last Meka with her vision, a burst of Hydro sending it tumbling into the waters below in pieces.

S/O had finished off their attackers with a sword bisecting the machine. However, they were breathing heavily and leaning against a nearby rock, sliding down.

The mask betrayed nothing of what they felt, but she could tell they were hurt.

Panic began to set in Furina's head, quickly scrambling to help. Her eyes glowed a bright blue before a familiar appeared next to S/O, healing the worst of their injuries.

(Furina) "S/O, are you okay?!"

Her usual bravado was absent though it was slowly starting to come back when she saw their breathing begin to steady itself.

(S/O) "Could....be worse, thanks."

Furina's hand placed itself onto her chest, breathing a deep sigh of relief.

(Furina) "Thank goodness! Come now, we shall get ourselves some rest and-"

A red stream trickled down S/O's face, coming from underneath the mask and catching her attention.

(Furina) "Your head! Allow me to-"

Furina's hand stopped itself as it quickly reached for their mask. She had never seen S/O without it, and she wasn't sure if they wanted to be seen with it off.

Silently answering her, S/O's hand gently reached up to her arm, and nodding.

(S/O) "Not a word of this to anyone."

Furina gave them a weary smile.

(Furina) "It depends on how handsome/pretty you are, S/O."

Hearing their pained chuckle, Furina slowly took off the mask and saw their face for the first time. She couldn't help but stare for a few seconds before moving to clean the blood from their head.

It scared her so much to see them hurt, but it was also comforting to see them give her a reassuring smile back, and to see those eyes staring back into hers for the first time.

(S/O) "...D-Don't just stare at me like that, Furina."

(Furina) "How could I not? You look incredible, simply marvelous!"

(S/O) "Even with blood gushing out of me?"

(Furina) "Hah, especially so. It makes you look rather dashing."

S/O could tell she was joking, as her hands were still gripping tightly onto theirs from worry.

(S/O) "Once I actually look presentable and not beat up, you can stare all you like."

(Furina) "I will hold you to that. Now, let's get you cleaned up!"

Furina not so subtly stared at S/O on the way back, smiling back when S/O noticed her and broke off eye contact. How cute!

Navia did raise an eyebrow at S/O upon first meeting, but she quickly became accustomed to it.

It's not like she dressed all that subtly herself after all.

And besides, what matters the most about a person is what's on the inside!

And to Navia, S/O was one of the most trustworthy people you could meet, weird mask aside.

She did not pry on their reason for wearing it, only wanting to ask when the time seemed right.

But that time came quicker than she thought after a dangerous encounter with bandits.

===

(Navia) "Feeling lucky?!-"

Her umbrella gun's blast blew away the ground the bandits were standing on, sending them flying back.

After seeing them retreat after dealing with the remaining ruffians, she smirked in satisfaction.

(Navia) "Serves you punks right, now get out of here! Hah! S/O, did you-"

Turning back to brag about her skills to S/O, she suddenly noticed that they weren't responding, and worst of all, they were on the ground with red on their hands.

Navia stopped breathing for a split second before nearly sprinting over to them, quickly lifting them up.

(Navia) "No! No no no, please, no!"

(S/O) "...N-Navia-"

(Navia) "Please, stay with me! I can't lose you too!"

Navia's hand brushed against the side of their head, her eyes welling up with tears as her heart raced.

S/O's hands wiped away the tears from her face before speaking up.

(S/O) "I'll live. They just grazed me. Promise."

(Navia) "Y-You...You better...!"

S/O slowly reached for their mask and took it off to look Navia in the eye. A small amount of blood came from their lips, but they thankfully displayed no signs of bleeding out.

Navia stared wide eyed at the sight of their face, taking it in. This was the first time she had ever seen them with it off, and this was not the time she was expecting to.

(S/O) "S-See? Heh, perfectly fine...OW!"

Navia suddenly grabbed their face, squishing it repeatedly with one hand as she rubbed off the blood with her thumb.

(Navia) "Why...Why in the world did you not take that off sooner?! You're simply breathtaking!"

(S/O) "Becushyewd'dewdis!" (Because you'd do this!)

They could not form the sentence correctly with how Navia's hands were squishing their cheeks together, as if she were squeezing a ball.

S/O gently grabbed Navia's wrist and lifted it off their face, chuckling lightly.

(S/O) "Not that I don't mind your hand on me, but can you at least do so without feeling me up like a toy?"

(Navia) "A-Ah, my apologies! You're hurt as well, so we need to get you to a doctor!"

Throughout the trip, S/O caught Navia taking several glances to examine their face.

Lynette had kept her eye on S/O the moment she heard rumors about a masked individual going around Fontaine.

She had learned to watch out for any signs of danger in a person, especially if it concerned herself or Lyney.

What had shocked her the most was that S/O had displayed no reason to distrust them, other than the mask.

In fact, they were one of the most trusting people she had met, looking into any information about them, nothing about their past was particularly alarming.

So that meant their reasons for wearing the mask was less to conceal an identity and more personal.

The two had gotten to know each other after S/O was found taking care of a few stray cats around the city, both of them quietly enjoying their time.

After that, it became a lunch or two, and a few conversations here and there.

Eventually, it blossomed into something more as the two spent time, neither of them fully revealing everything about their past.

S/O didn't pry, so Lynette didn't either. At least not after she got to know the person behind the mask.

But after S/O had saved her from rather vicious wildlife...

===

S/O and Lynette took a moment to breathe, escaping to higher ground from the creatures attacking them.

(Lynette) "That was too close. S/O, thanks for-"

Her ears turned sideways as she realized there was blood falling from S/O's head.

(Lynette) "You're bleeding! Sit down!"

(S/O) "O-Ow...No need to tell me twice."

S/O almost collapsed before Lynette caught them, slowly making them lean against a nearby rock as she grabbed their mask.

She took it off without thinking and was stunned by seeing their face for the first time.

Her ears immediately straightened up as the words got caught in her throat. Lynette almost forgot what she was doing until seeing the blood trickle down.

S/O made no motion to stop her, only giving her a small smile that made her heart race even faster. After cleaning the injury on their head, she averted her gaze.

(Lynette) "...Sorry. I should have asked first."

(S/O) "You were worried, so you acted. If anything, I'm flattered."

Hearing their voice so clearly was messing with her head. To finally connect their soothing voice to a face was almost unnatural to her. Part of her was convinced that she'd never actually see it, at least not this soon.

(S/O) "You told me quite a bit about yourself and Lyney already, I think it's about time I returned the favor, anyway."

Lynette returned their smile, albeit hers was not as big.

(Lynette) "I suppose that's a fair trade."

She was finally able to look them in the eye for a few seconds before putting the mask back into their hands.

(Lynette) "...You should have that mask off more often."

(S/O) "I'll do that if you promise me you'll do the same...As long as it's only the two of us."

Her ears twitched for a brief moment, processing what they were asking.

She sincerely doubted at this point they were the type to blabber about anything they were told, something she was thankful for.

And if she got to see the true them, maybe that wasn't the most outrageous demand they could make.

Lynette had seen worse deals, anyway.

(Lynette) "Only for the two of us."

S/O responded by holding her hand tightly, and she responded in kind.

(Lynette) "First, we need to get back to the city. I've had enough outdoors for today."

(S/O) "Heh, agreed."

On the way back, Lynette could not keep her eyes off their face and felt a tad disappointed watching them put it back on as they reached civilization again.

[snniez-gendershop]

Aether: NSFW Alphabet

A little Aether to kick off the nsfw alphabets. Hope you enjoy ! ( Warnings: breeding, pain kink )

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Aether is very soft and caring. He cuddles you and showers you in lots of kisses, and even offers to cook for you if your hungry now. Generally he’s very affectionate afterwards.

“Hey darling, you alright? If you’re hungry, I’ll make you some food.”

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite body part on himself is his hands. He uses them to protect people and those he lives, so they’re very important to him. On his partner, it’s probably their thighs. Not just in a sexual way, either, he just thinks they’re so cute and squishy, he loves to lay on them.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He has a huge breeding kink and loves being close to you, so he loves to cum inside you/you cum inside him. He’ll fuck your for hours just to fill you up until he physically can’t cum anymore and then watch it drip out of your hole, or beg you to not stop and fill him up as much as you can. He might use a plug afterwards so it stays in. If you’re not okay with that, he likes to cum on your chest or stomach and then use his fingers to scoop it off and feed it to you. His cum is definitely decently tasting since he probably has a pretty good diet

“[Name], please, I want you to cum inside me, please please pleaasssee~.”

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s a huge masochist and loves when you degrade/hurt him. His favorite thing to be called is “slut”, it just does something to him. He also loves when you bite/scratch him. and may be just a little into the idea of carving your name into him

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

At first, he’s not very experienced because you’re the first partner he’s ever had, but he’s an awful quick learner. It doesn’t take him long to get to know your sweet spots, or what turns you on.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Favorite position is probably mating press, whether he’s top or bottom, no real rhyme or reason.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s usually more serious, but when he’s feeling extra soft and romantic, he gets really giggly during sex and jokes around a little

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He’s trimmed, but not perfectly since he does a lot of adventuring and commissions. He might have a little bush but it’s never out of control. The carpet is a little lighter than the drapes.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Most of the time he’s very romantic and sweet, but when he’s pent up or frustrated, he can get pretty rough with you ( or maybe wants you to get rough with him ).

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He masturbates more than he would like to admit. He’s more often than not scared to initiate anything, and it’s not always possible for you to join him, so he usually tries to take care of it himself. But that usually just ends up with him being needier and going to find you ASAP.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He’s fairly kinky, but not hugely. He has a breeding kink, a little bit of an exhibition kink, and a pain kink, but he’s also pretty flexible with whatever you want as long as it doesn’t cross his boundaries.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His favorite place is out in the open on a quest. He loves to push you up against a tree, or have you shove him down behind a bush to have sex. The thrill of keeping quiet so no one hears you, being so exposed and in the open, he gets hard basically immediately.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He gets very turned on by your voice, he thinks it’s so attractive and hearing you speak low and soft gets him very riled up. He also love to watch you undress, and will sneak around like a perv to watch you ( if you’re okay w it )

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

I can’t see him being into bodily fluids or spit, it just grosses him out and he’ll politely decline.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He prefers to give because he loves to look on your face when he sucks and licks at your pussy/cock, it gives him pleasure just to hear you moan when he’s pleasing you.

“Mmm, darling, you taste- mmph- soo good~.”

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s usually pretty slow and sensual, but he’s very capable of being fast and rough. A couple of the times you guys have done it rough, you’ve hobbled away from the situation.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He’s a big fan of quickies as he’s a very busy man. With all the commissions and work he’s has to do, plus trying to find his sister, he doesn’t have a lot of time.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

It makes him nervous but he’s still all game to take risks. The anxiety gets him excited and it makes him all hot and flustered.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Unbelievable stamina, this man could go forever. I hc that because he goes on so many adventures, he’s worked up his stamina a lot so he could probably last at least 6-7 rounds. Probably goes for hours when possible.

“You know the safe word? Good, cuz I’m not stopping until you use it.”

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I’d say in a modern au, he’s definitely own toys for both him and his partner. He would love the reactions he got out of you when he used them on you, and loves the way it makes him feel for you to use them on him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s not much of tease, he caves too easily. If you say it with a really sweet smile, he’s bound to say yes to anything you want. So naturally, he’s the same in bed.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s not loud, but he’s a whiner. He makes soft, high pitched noises in bed, and will moan your name a lot.

“[Na-Name], mmhhh, fuck~”

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He’s a switch that secretly leans towards bottom. He just loves being taken care of and pleased because he’s so used to doing it for everyone else.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I’d imagine a solid 6, maybe 6.5 in. He’s not long, but he’s pretty big around

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

I think it’s pretty damn high. He gets really frustrated with fighting and trying to find his sister that he needs relief, and sex is just perfect. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He’ll only fall asleep after you do, but once you fall asleep it’s lights out for him. And for some reason, I hc that only after sex will he snore.

[linelpisffxiv]

So yesterday in a chat, we were talking about some stuff and...

Well, Lin. I love her. I love this character I made. How she went from a doll that looks like a different character that I joked about plot through to being her own character with opinions that differ from mine.

And nothing is better than how I used the DRK quest to shape her.

Lin picks it up after the Vault. She's angry at everything because her husband just died but she's in denial about it. She had a nasty screaming match at her ex-FIL because he was accepting it.

But there is a line that stands out that shaped her. During the level 50 duty, we first hear the term Weapon of Light. Myste repeats that phrase in the 70 quest, but it first showed up in the 50. And that is what shaped her. It became her greatest fear. Nowadays, that fear has existed since the bloody banquet, and reshaped how she saw the Eorzean Alliance, only tentatively accepting their apology, especially since the Exile went very differently. She still doesn't fully trust Ul'dah because she found out just how they strongarmed Gridania and Limsa into falling under their rules. She actually was an exile and wanted criminal, so Ishgard was her only safe place. (And part of her wanted to just turn herself in between "Before the Dawn" and "Coming to Ishgard") Before the Bloody Banquet, she loved being a hero. She loved the attention she got. She loved being needed. She loved feeling powerful. She did what she thought was right, but kind of for the wrong reasons. She did know pain, more than the average WoL because she saw her uncle's corpse and knew he died because she wasn't there, but she was able to grieve him and considers him a reminder of the cost if she isn't persistent. The Bloody Banquet changed how she viewed heroism.

The 50 quest ends with her accepting that yes, she is scared she'll become what she considers the weapon of light, but now that she is fully cognizant of that fear and exactly what it means, she can be persistent with finding it.

Except she cares too much, so she falls into it, and meets Zenos who she's certain is what her future will be. She nearly kills herself, thinking it'd be better for everyone if someone else saved Ala Mhigo and she can die free, but gets talked back.

But with the fears of being the Weapon at an all-time high, she finished the job and disappears, handling the 70 quest. The conclusion she comes to is that she hasn't let herself grieve and looked for a righteous cause to forget herself in. And she needs to do the former, and helping out isn't bad, it's who she is, but there's limits to it being healthy.

At no point does Lin ever quit, though. Something still pushes her foward towards heroism. It feels good to her, even if it's not because of how she felt powerful or needed or popular. It just... felt right.

But all too soon, she keeps getting asked for too much, and because it gives her what she likes, she loses herself again. Gives too much despite knowing they will ask it, because if she's not doing it, who can?

ShB is the point that changes it. For once, people are starting to see those frayed edges of her seeking what she wants but for the wrong reasons, and finally understand she can't be alone, so they finally help her. Yes, the Exarch/G'raha is the biggest. He's read of what she's like when she's fully given in, and in this timeline she's only gotten close but always pulled back.

She still fears becoming a weapon, but she has allies now that are strong enough politically to help her pull back. She had friends that cared before, but they were just some free company. Good for fighting, but little else in the eyes of the City-states. The Scions though, they're respected, and if Y'shtola tells you to bugger off and let the WoL have a six month rest with her new partner, you shut up and let the WoL have a six month rest with her new partner.

She's a bit clingy to G'raha after ShB. She lost a lover before. She doesn't want to again, but also he's the main one on the First who can tell people to back off and not use her. The Scions are loved and are almost as heroic as her and have some political power, but the Exarch is another beast entirely.

And when she returns, he may have lost a bunch of it, but he's still a Scion and helps prove himself over and over again. He has others back him up like Cid and other Scions. He commands respect from others so should have some ability to speak.

The contingent did not set Lin off worse than the others, but the whole "In from the cold" incident did set her off because it was her body doing these things, so it still hurt.

But when Zenos finally gave her his thesis statement, she was able to finally shed herself of most of the fear. She has others who can support her, but she finally has the strength to tell someone to bugger themself. She does fight and kill him, but because of where they were. If this were anywhere in Eitherys's gravity well, she would have just walked away.

She's not a weapon. She's Lin, and she finally found the right surname to define herself after trying to sort out her weird soul shit. Elpis. She's Lin Elpis and she will be that for people, but the most important person... she's Lin Elpis for herself. She's her own hopebringer.

[kazewhara]

Hi this doesn't necessarily have to be a request but what do you think about the concept of dating abyss prince!aether? I think it's a very interesting concept especially since we as fans only know so much.

i was going to write this as a request, but i feel like i wouldn't be able to accurately express how strongly i feel about this in such a structured manner LMAO

so here we go Messy Format, i am so sorry y'all, i've been lacking lately... i promise i'll do better,,

anyways, abyss prince!aether x gn!reader below the cut <3

how would you even meet?

a fantastic question!

so, for Dramatic Plot Reasons, you are actually lumine's second travel partner, right? and you help keep her on track while she searches for answers for aether's whereabouts

like after the dvalin incident when lumine is asking venti questions and receiving vague answers, you are beside her, glaring daggers at the former archon in an effort to get him to talk.

"we didn't save your people just for you to be tight-lipped." you snarl. "this one-sided transaction shit won't fly."

lumine tugs on your arm as a warning and waves apologetically at venti. all of you just encountered la signora and watched as he was forcibly stripped of his gnosis -- of his divine status. venti is already a shadow of his usual self as it is, and your harsh words weren't helping.

"i-i'm sorry venti, ignore them." she apologizes on your behalf. lumine gives you a look of disbelief when you yank yourself out of her grip, but says nothing. "thank you for your information. it really helped."

"like hell it did." you mutter under your breath.

venti gives you a patient smile; the one he gives everyone when he's not in his usual playful mood. "their anger isn't misplaced, traveler," he hums, "i really am sorry that i only gave you more questions than answers, but i promise you: morax is the oldest of us all. he'll have the answers you need."

i think i'll cut that there, because i just want you to understand that at the beginning, you are lumine's backbone

you say what she's too kind to say

her desire to find aether consumes her every waking moment, but she just can't ignore people in need! so she can put her mission on the back burner for just a little longer, right?

wrong. you completely disagree.

you'll let her do what she needs to do when it's unrelated to your quest, but as soon as you're with someone who may possibly have answers, you put your foot down.

sometimes, lumine would joke that you want to find aether more than she does

you don't even know what he looks like. you just want lumine to be happy. she's your best friend

so where does aether come into all of this?

this is where we diverge from the plot.

you first encounter him on a late night walk through the forest.

you and lumine were camping out for the night after a very long day of running around with klee, jean, and albedo

you were feeling restless all day, but you couldn't figure out why

for some reason, for the past couple of days, you've been feeling... watched. you feel like there's someone watching you at every corner.

you're with lumine at almost every hour of the day, but even when you two are apart, you feel those eyes still on you

so you're strolling through the forest, trying to keep yourself sane when you stumble across a small hilichurl camp

it's nothing serious, just a few shooters and one big one with a shield

you easily handle the shieldwall mitachurl and the pyro and cryo shooters

but during your fight, you didn't hear the warning horn calling for backup.

you're dusting off your clothes to head back to camp when you hear something heavy slicing through the air behind you

it's an axe mitachurl

you react far too late to stop it, so you close your eyes and say a silent goodbye to lumine as you prepare for what you assume is the most painful death known to man..

but it never comes.

you crack open one eye to see what has so graciously allowed you to live another day only to find that it's not a what, but rather a who. the mitachurl from before is disintegrating on the ground behind the person's feet, so you open your eyes to get a better look at your savior.

it's a man with long, blonde hair, golden eyes, and peculiar clothing. something starts to click in the back of your head, like rocks sparking to make a fire. do you... know him?

rather than look at the faded body of the monster he just defeated, his eyes are fixed on you, his expression unreadable.

"um," you mumble, "thank you...?"

your savior raises an eyebrow. "are you trying to get me to tell you my name?" when you nod, he huffs a humorless laugh. "you'll figure it out soon enough. but, i will admit, i was under the impression that you were a lot stronger than this."

you blink a few times out of shock. was he insulting you? "pardon me? i just didn't hear the warning horn. it wouldn't have been the first time."

the blonde man turns around and walks away from you, and it's only then that you see the white and gold sword disappearing from his hand. "it would have been your last, had i not stepped in." he turns to face you again. "otherwise, i think lumine would have had to find your body herself."

lumine? he knows lumine? the sparks in your head ignite so quickly that you become dizzy.

"aether?" you say in a hushed whisper. you're far away from your campsite, but you say his name as though it were the most scandalous secret you've ever been told. "is that... are you aether?"

somewhere deep down, you hoped to celestia that you were wrong. you really did. but when aether's lips split into a solemn smile, you feel guilt and panic begin to twist your insides into knots. "y-you're here," you stammer. "i have to go tell lumine--!"

you start to run back but aether is swift, catching your wrist in an almost bruising grip. you whirl around to look at him thinking he would be furious with you, but instead, there's a forlorn look swimming in his eyes. your heart tugs; he looks just like lumine. there was really no doubting that they were twins.

"don't," he shakes his head and lets go of your wrist, "don't tell her that you've seen me."

"why? she's running herself ragged looking for you!" you feel sick to your stomach. he expects you to keep this a secret? this was why you were with lumine -- why you stuck by her side even in the worst of times. it was all for the sake of finding him. "you two could go home and be together again, but you're just... you're going to abandon her?"

aether's face darkens for a moment, but he seems to realize something before it levels out. "i'm... not abandoning her. it's just that there are some things she needs to do -- that i need to do -- before we can leave." he glances in the direction of your campsite; it's like he can sense lumine's presence. the white accents of his clothing and jewelry shine a little brighter as he speaks. "she needs to find her truth. i've already found mine."

you feel suffocated. there's so much going through your head -- so much wrong with this situation. you don't want to do as aether says, but you would be lying if you said you didn't feel power radiating off of him. it's the same kind that you felt from lumine, but aether's was so densely saturated -- so much stronger than his sister's. did he manage to get his old powers back, then? if you were to disobey him... what would he do to you?

aether's eyes flick back to you. "you're thinking that i'm going to hurt you." it's not a question. he knows.

you shake your head but it's useless. he's already picked up on it.

"i guess i'm not as... approachable as my sister." he chuckles to himself. he steps closer to you. "but i'm not going to hurt you. if i was, i would have let that mitachurl do you in."

"th-then what do you want from me?"

"your silence." aether hums. "and," he walks to a tree behind you, picks a windwheel aster from the ground and comes back to give it to you. "your attention."

he wants your attention? "if it's my attention you want," you reply, taking the flower from aether with shaky fingers, "then you already have it."

aether laughs again. he's been doing that a lot, you notice. is there something amusing about this? "i don't mean your attention in that way. in due time, however, i trust that you will understand what i mean."

"what?"

in the distance, you hear the howling of a wolf. the moon must be at its highest now. aether's eyes follow the noise before centering on you again. his gaze softens when he sees you tense under his stare. "it's very late. you should go back to bed." he says softly.

something about his tone makes your breathing become uneven. "what if i tell lumine?" you say. "i-i could tell her everything. i don't have to listen to you."

aether nods. "you're right, you're right. but," he steps away and makes his way deeper into the forest, "i trust you."

and just like that, he's gone, leaving you with the spinning petals of a windwheel aster in your fingertips and the smell of stardust in your lungs.

what then?

you don't tell lumine.

when you got back to camp that night, your best friend was awake and frantic, because she had no idea where you'd gone and because you didn't use your vision, she couldn't trace you with elemental sight

she was so afraid that you'd abandoned her too

you were in such a daze that you didn't know what to say, so lumine assumed that you ran into some terrible danger

it wasn't inaccurate, so you let her believe it

but you didn't tell her the truth.

after that, you begin to see aether more and more often.

mostly in passing, but you notice that he's actually trailing you two

but whenever he catches your eye, you notice that his eyes are locked on you and not his sister

you only talk to him at night, when the world has gone to sleep

aether reveals himself to you when you're alone and jerks you around with his cryptic speech and charming smile

every time, he tells you how much he trusts you, because you haven't told lumine of your nightly rendezvous with him

and every time, the guilt grows stronger.

partially because you're hiding such a big secret from your closest friend

but also because you know when you're falling in love.

what is loving the abyss prince like?

it's suffocating at first.

you shoulder the weight of the world by loving him as much as you do.

at first, you tried to convince yourself that it was hatred.

hatred for the man who forced you to be a liar

hatred for the man who gifted you flowers and exotic trinkets from the nations you hadn't visited yet

hatred for the man who embraced you like you were the most delicate being on the planet

because you came to yearn for his presence

nights when he didn't visit were the worst nights of your life

you almost had withdrawals whenever you couldn't see him

you tried your best to restrain yourself when you two would reunite after a while, but aether could always pick up on your neediness

you hated him, you tried to tell yourself

you hate him you hate him you hate him.

you don't know when that changed.

but you knew and he knew that neither of you were going to make it out of this strange relationship without heartbreak.

aether confesses to you on the peak of starsnatch cliff.

"to the people of mondstadt," he speaks to you over his shoulder as he plucks cecilias out of the ground, "people who confess their love here are fated to be together for eternity."

the very second those words leave his lips, your heart stops. it's a common thing whenever you're with aether. he makes your body do the weirdest things with the littlest behaviors. his words could stop your heart and his smile could make your mind melt. it was wrong -- it was so, so, so wrong -- but you couldn't stop it.

you try in vain to keep yourself calm. "why do you know that?" you ask. you're often blunt with the prince of the abyss. he's told you on multiple occasions that he finds it endearing, since most of his subjects wouldn't even dare look him in the eyes. you hear his tinkling laugh from behind you.

"just a bit of trivia for you." he says. he stands and heads over to you, sitting beside you on the grass with the little bouquet of cecelias in hand. their light fragrance carries on the breeze.

"i've always found mondstadt to be one of my favorite places in this world." aether muses. his eyes close and your fingers itch with the urge to touch his face. his eyelashes are as golden as his hair, long and beautiful. "nowhere else is as tranquil as this place. i've sent barbatos my kind regards more than once."

you gape. "you're on good terms with the anemo archon? but i thought you.." you trail off. aether's told you his story already -- his mission. he's so transparent with you that it makes you want to bury your head in a hole.

aether removes the gloves from his hands and gently strokes the flower petals. "i may be working against the archons, but i'm not that immature. i know guilt when i see it." he looks at you then. you freeze. "i know you feel guilty about this. about us."

"there is no us." you say. the words feel so bitter and disgusting on your tongue. "there's not supposed to be an 'us'."

"and yet here you are." the prince reaches out and cradles your face with a hand. "letting me touch you like we're lovers." he smiles when you don't pull away. you may not notice, but you relax at his touch. his hands are warm and calloused, his fingers and forearms scarred from centuries of battles fought and won. they're comforting to you, no matter how much you want to deny it.

you bite your lip. you can't lie to yourself anymore. you've lied to enough people as it is. you rest your hand on the back of aether's own. "why are you doing this to me?" you ask softly. your voice cracks.

rather than answer you with words, aether leans in and kisses your forehead. your skin sings at the contact. "because you're intriguing." he murmurs against your skin.

you laugh wetly. "you always say that. i need a real reason."

he kisses your cheek. "because you're capable," he continues. "you're mystifying," he kisses your other cheek, "you're trustworthy," he kisses your nose, "and because i..." aether stops and presses his forehead against yours.

you don't think you're breathing anymore. elation has built so much in your chest that you think you're going to burst. "because what?" you whisper. "why do you stick around me so much, aether?"

"say it again." he says. he closes his eyes with a sigh. "my name. say it again."

you obey. "aether."

"again."

"a-aether," you stutter, "what is this about?"

aether silences any other questions you may have with a kiss. it's the ghost of a kiss, really; a barely-there brush of lips that sets off fireworks in your head. "you asked me why i'm doing this." he speaks against your mouth. "it's because i'm in love with you."

you don't mean to say his name again, but it's the only word you can think to say in response. he kisses you properly this time. "aether, i can't," you feel like your very soul is shaking. you're conflicted, but if this goes on any longer, you're going to make your decision. "this is--"

aether kisses you again, drinking in your half-hearted protests. "you feel the same, don't you?" he asks when he pulls away. "i know you do. you wouldn't let me kiss you if you didn't."

"what did you do to me?" you feel a lump in your throat. you've never felt love so genuine -- so pure. but to feel that from the prince of the abyss order? it was tearing you apart. "why do i love you so much, aether? why?"

the prince kisses you. "tell me you love me again. please."

"i love you." the words come straight from your chest; from the deepest, most sensitive place in your body. you mean every word, every syllable. "i love y--"

another kiss. "one more time, star. just one more."

you sniff. you don't know when you started crying, but you are. aether's other hand cups your face, brushing your tears with his thumb. "i love you." you whisper. "so, so much, aether."

aether sighs, finally content. "and i love you. more than there are stars in the sky."

beneath those stars, your abyss prince kisses you tenderly, murmuring words of adoration all the while.

where does your relationship go from here?

from here, nothing changes.

you're so used to lying to lumine that you don't change how behave during the day

your nightly meetings with the abyss prince become more intimate, with you two always touching in some way

he tells you stories of himself and lumine in the past

or maybe he'll tell you of the happenings of the abyss

he does so in order to keep you and lumine out of trouble

aether doesn't hide a thing from you because you've already proven yourself to him

he was drawn to you because of your ability to keep his other half safe

you were helping her reach the answers he wanted her to reach, even after you two became official

at night, aether will sometimes fantasize about taking you along with him and lumine when they leave this world

there's so much he wants you to see, so many things he wants to show you -- to experience with you

but until then, he must complete his work here

there will be nights when aether is too furious to touch or speak to you

he trusts you, but not himself

because he's been the ruler of the underbelly of this world for so long, he feels as though he shouldn't be around you in fear that he will ruin you

that you will become a monster much like him

but really, all you need to do is remind him that you trust him.

kiss him all over, hold his hands, braid his hair, stay close by

because that's more than enough for him to understand that he's not some weapon of mass destruction -- that he's capable of good and deserving of love just like everyone else

he is still just a man lost without his family

he's so torn up about not being able to be around lumine, but the day when he can be around her -- when he can tell her the truth -- is quickly approaching

and it's all thanks to you

because of you, the twins can see each other much sooner than aether planned

you and aether plan to slowly ease lumine into the truth of your relationship when it comes time to tell her

but there will be no more lies. not anymore.

lastly, what is he like as a lover?

lumine told you once that her brother was a very tactile person

he's always been the more compassionate out of the two of them, so he's a hands-on kind of person

something you learn through experience

he's always touching you in some way, be it your hands, shoulders, etc.

he also always takes his gloves off if he's going to touch your skin

very big on cuddling... abyss prince or not, aether just... really likes the warmth of someone else.

aether has a very stern side to him that you see on occasion

mostly when he talks about what he does during the day

his eyes grow dull and his tone will freeze over. his face will lose all of its usual warmth and he'll probably squeeze whatever it is that's in his hands

that's really just a fraction of what he's really like when he's carrying out his duties as prince of the abyss.

also very big on gift giving!! he'll give you little things here and there, but there has never been a time when he hasn't given you something.

i think that aether is a very passionate lover, abyss status or not

but because of his duties, you need to be patient with him. he's prone to moments of panic or lashing out of anger

never directed at you, but things pile up during the day and he has to keep it in to maintain his reputation

✧ i feel like this was not exactly what anon asked for but i'm so?? in love with this idea?? yes yeah.

[cynettic]

Hii,I’d like to request a fanfic about kaeya and venti(seperate) comforting a gn!reader after losing their pet

Summary - Venti and Kaeya comfort you after the loss of your pet.

Pairings - Reader x Venti / Kaeya

Warnings - Pet angst

Penpal - Sorry for getting to you late! If you did by chance lose a pet like that I’m so sorry to hear that- I tried to make it extra comforting for that case. If not and I’m just overthinking it- I hope you enjoy it either way :)

A/N - Ahhhh- I havent posted in so long ;-; sorry sorry, been stuck with 40-50 hours of work this entire week, and when I get home I just grind Inazuma. I havent even caught up to the archon quest, just exploring lol

Comfort after Losing a Pet

Venti

Venti has lived for a very long time, and even with his cheerful chatter and harmless jokes, he’s gained a strong sense of wisdom from these years. He has no doubt attached himself to people throughout these years and lost them, but instead of feeling sad for them, I feel like Venti would keep them close to his heart instead.

He’d urge you to do the same.

Things like these take time, taking in the death of someone important to you is not easy, he understands that.

Venti can be incredibly patient, even though it might be hard for him to put himself exactly in your shoes, he will wait alongside you.

Unless it’s a cat.

He’s allergic to those little fuckers- and even if he doesn’t share a particular hatred towards them…

Jk jk he’ll comfort you and mourn your pet with you either way, he just wants to see you smile again.

What Venti could best give you is words and time, he doesn’t really have much archon duties so he’ll spend the day doing things with you. He’ll even skip a few nights at the bar just to cuddle with you and make you feel safe and like you have someone to rely on.

As for words, we all know Venti is a smooth talker- who’s to say he isn’t good at soothing someone either?

He probably won’t be as touchy as Kaeya will, and will rely on the things he can do to cheer you up. Playing his lyre, telling you jokes, and just being by you.

_-_-_-_

"People and animals come and go, I know for sure that -pet name- loved you dearly Y/n. And even if they can’t be here with you," Venti pressed a loving kiss to your chest right where your heart was. "They’ll always be right here with you.”

_-_-_-_

“They’re gone.”

You slowly sank to your knees, lips pressed firmly shut as you tried to blink away the tears. Shock coursed your body as you tried to understand just what had happened. But every time you thought about it, your heart thud a bit too loudly against your chest, and suddenly you wanted to cry all over again.

Venti, who was right beside you didn’t know what to do. His hands were outstretched to bring you into his arms, but he was unsure of whether it was the contact you need at the moment.

He decided to simply rest his hand on your back.

The two of you had just been on your way back home after having to put your pet down, something you’d been trying to delay, but knew you had to with their age and actions. Venti had stood with you through it all, but you hadn’t shed a tear back then.

But the shock gradually faded away, and you were a sobbing mess.

Venti rubbed his hand on your back, whispering soft promises and loving words into your ear. It hurt him to see you like this, and even if he was close and had known your pet well, it didnt affect him nearly as much as it did you. However, when you continued to sit crouched on the floor, he knew he needed to take action.

Slowly, he lifted you to your feet, opening the door to your home and slowly helping you inside. Tears continued to trickle down your face as he walked you over to your bedroom, a firm grip on your arm so you wouldnt fall. His thumb gently brushed the skin of your arm, a contact that reminded you he was there.

He gently sat you on the bed, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Y/n,” he began gingerly, already taking off your boots and unnecessary accessories. “Take a deep breath in.”

You did just that, but another sob broke past your lips and suddenly you were wiping them away.

“No no,” he took your hands in his, your wrists encased in his gentle grip. “I’m not asking you to stop crying… I just want you to clear your head a little.” His gaze was soft as he looked up at you from his crouched position. “Being sad over this is completely normal, I’ll be with you through it all.”

He slowly brought your fingertips to his lips, pressing a featherlike kiss to each of them. So soft that by the time he’d finished, you’d stopped crying. His touch made you feel warm, a bright reminder that he was here with you, that you wouldnt be alone during this.

“(Pet Name) loved you Y/n. I want you to know that they were happy till the end, happy with you. I know you need to grieve, but don’t ever think that you’ll have to do it alone.”

Kaeya

Kaeya may not as lived as much as Venti, but he has certainly gone through enough to understand handling a loss. He’s lost a great amount of family, and has lost his relationship with his brother. He probably hasnt had a pet before, but knows the importance they hold.

He probably got to know your pet too, formed memories and came to love them as well.

It wont hit him as hard though .

Kaeya will also be patient with you, theres no rush to heal over what happened or finish your grievances. Expect him to be there with you for the majority of the time, he might ask for a couple of days just to stay with you.

But Kaeya still needs to work, hence time not being one of the main providers he can give you. Instead, he would wrap you in his arms and wouldnt let go. Physical contact and giving are what he’s gonna be doing.

You feel hungry for eggs and bacon? Chef Kaeya to the rescue-

Tbh I dont even know if he can cook.

Like Venti, he will remind you constantly that he’s there. Because he knows that its exactly what he needed back when Crepus died. He’ll remind you through his words, actions, and contact.

24/7 Cuddle buddy.

He most definitely calls you nicknames all the time, but the names before the death of your pet might have been more like, babe, doll, honey. He might’ve switched to love, dear, dearest, stuff like that for a little.

Idk- but ‘Your pet loved you doll,’ doesnt sound as nice as, ‘Your pet loved you dear.

_-_-_-_

“We made so many memories with them,” he whispered into your ear, arms around you. “You were always there with them, loved and took care of them, I know they loved and appreciated you for it.”

_-_-_-_

“I’m fine Kaeya,” you mumbled as he held the cup of tea to your lips. Your hands could easily grasp the sides, but for some odd reasons he insisted on being the one to do everything for you. You knew it was partly because he’d have to start going back to work soon, and he just wanted you to feel comfortable.

“I know,” he simply said, a smile playing at his lips. “But I want to spoil you with love, just take it.”

You felt your throat go dry and your chest thud painfully, something you’d gotten used to since yesterday. The loss of your pet struck hard, but you found it all the more bearable with Kaeya, who stood alongside you through it all.

Finishing the tea, he climbed into bed with you, hand coming to pull you close to his chest. His fingers slowly brushed the skin of your back, soothing patterns that would send you to sleep right away. But instead, you nuzzled your head deeper into his chest.

“I miss them,” you spoke softly.

Kaeya didnt stop with the motions on your back, but instead drifted his other hand to the back of your head. He brushed his fingers through your locks, lowering how own head down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“I know you do,” was what he said in a whisper. “Theres nothing wrong with it either, you will miss them for an eternity.” He spoke from experience, but was never harsh with his words as if he expected you to know. “But eventually, you will solely remember those good memories with (Pet name). Those are the only ones that matter, because you made them happy, and they made you happy.”

The deep breath you took in was painful.

But he was right, you knew well that their memories and your yearning for them would turn into a past adoration. You would never forget them, but you’d come to accept their loss and always remember them in a happy light.

“Thank you,” you mumbled softly to the boy, wrapping your hands around his waist. “You always know what to say and do… thank your for being here for me.”

“I will always be here for you,” was his answer.

[lis-likes-fics]

Second Chances (Ending 1)

Pairing: Carlisle Cullen x Reader Warnings: Mention of death? Sorrow? Idk, what for the second ending. Author’s Note: I got bored and wanted to write something, so, here you go. Prompt comes from @maxkirin​. Thanks! :)

~~~~~

"Hey, promise me. Promise me you'll move on."

"You know I can't do that."

"Say you love me. Can you do that, please?"

"You'll get to hear it forever."

"Carlisle, I love yo-"

...

...

...

Three years.

It had been three years since he lost her.

Carlisle tried to move on, he did. Losing her was the hardest thing he ever had to experience in his very long life.

His family supported him, they tried to help anyway they could. They were the only reason he was still holding on, they needed him so he would be there for him.

But it wasn't enough to keep him alive. Even his new granddaughter, Renesmee could only bring so much light into his life. Everyone knew of who he lost, everyone knew why the excellent doctor of the town wasn't as radiant as he used to be.

But no one would understand his loss. No one would understand his pain. Even Jasper, who could feel it.

Even now as he drove to work, using the same route he did everyday, he missed her with all of his being. He couldn't help the emptiness that threatened to seep into his skin again as he thought about the times she decided to join him on his way to work. She would claim its "on the way", but she just wanted to spend the morning with him before turning around and heading the complete opposite way to get to her workplace.

He felt like a small smile was supposed to be threatening to creep onto his face, but all he felt like doing was crying at the memory.

All he had to do was tell her that he loved her too. But he didn't, he didn't even get to say that to her before she was gone.

He sucked in a deep breath to try and calm his nerves, his eyes scanning through his windshield, glancing over at the trees surrounding the road he drove on alone. His eyes caught onto a strange sign peaking out of the trees. He'd driven down this road hundreds-- thousands of times, and he'd never seen that sign there. He looked closely at it:

"For Sale: Second Chances"

He blinked at it, his brows twitching. Before he could pass the sign, he turned into the strange natural path the sign stood next to, driving into the trees and parking his car. He stepped out, looking down the path.

Carlisle narrowed his eyes, tapping into his hearing to see if he could get a clue as to what this was. He sighed and started walking down the path, extra careful of his surroundings to make sure there wasn't some threat lurking in the shadows.

After walking for a few minutes, he came up on a small shack. There was an open sign hanging on the door spray painted on a piece of wood. The windows were slightly dimmed, but he could see through just fine. There were shelves with empty and filled jars, little boxes, and much more.

He lingered at the door for a moment before opening it and stepping inside. He look around the slightly dusty place with curiosity. What was this place? The items on shelves and sitting on the floor along the walls were strange, but they seemed mundane enough.

"Hello?" He called, filling the silence with his smooth, velvety voice.

An lady peaked her head from a door behind the counter with a smile. She seemed to be in her early forties. She wore a hippie dress, a scarf tied around her head, her lips glossed. Her hair was white, but her skin was a rich, youthful brown. She wore gold hoop earrings, and her hands were decorated with rings. There was an excessive amount of necklaces hanging from her throat, but it somehow worked.

But it was her eyes that caught Carlisle's attention. They held an antiquity to them, like she was older than she looked. But she wasn't a vampire, he knew this.

The woman gave a warm smile, a kind of radiance in it, "Hello, how may I help you?"

He formed the question in his head before saying it out loud, "Who are you?"

She shrugged, her smile never faltering, "Just a shopkeep. Did you come in for our sale?"

Carlisle thought again, he was still confused and curious about everything, so he didn't exactly know how to answer, even with a mind as quick as his. "What is the sale?"

"Our Second Chance Sale," she shopkeep said, tilting her head politely.

"What is that?"

"Exactly what it sounds like. A second chance. Is that what you are in search of? A second chance?" She asked, fluttering her lashes, folding her hands together in question.

He hesitated, "A second chance at what?"

"You tell me, dear," she shrugged, "What is it you wish to fix?"

There was only one thing that came to mind, one thing that was always on his mind every second of every day. He would trade in his life to make things right. But this could easily just be some cruel joke.

But, if it was, the worse that could come of it would be the painful thought that he could have made things right but didn't.

He gave a nod, "I would save her."

She smiled again, holding her hand out to him, "Give me your hand."

Again, he was hesitant. He didn't know what to trust about this. In fact, he should have just gone to work and avoided the contact at all, but he hadn't. He felt a strange pull to this place, to something within it. Some feeling.

He handed her his hand, laying it in her palm as he held his breath. She looked down at it, flipping it over in his hand to reveal his palm. She looked closely at it for a while, as if seeing something more in the lines and creases than just lines and creases.

She nodded, grabbing a jar off the counter and opening it without breaking eye contact with his palm. She took a handful of the contents of the jar, the unknown powder being sprinkled in his hand and then the excess powder being discarded on the floor with little to no thought from the woman.

Carlisle watched the shopkeep worked as she closed his hand over the strange powder, kneading his fingers into his palm firmly. When she opened his hand again, the powder had completely disappeared. She looked back up at Carlisle and said, "In a few moments, your second chance will present itself to you."

Carlisle spoke, "What is the cost?"

She shrugged, "Whatever comes of it. If you succeed, the cost is your pain. It will disappear and you shall be happy again. However if you fail, the cost is your happiness. It will never be seen again."

Carlisle gave a solemn look, understanding with each second the graveness of the situation. This wasn't just for her, this was for him. He couldn't fail, he couldn't.

She gave him a stern nod before speaking in a firm voice, "Go."

~

Carlisle's eyes focused on the newspaper in his hands, sat in his home by himself. His children were out hunting, he had stayed back. He looked around, confused and surprised. What had happened?

All he remembered was the shopkeep, how did he end up here?

His phone rang during his quest to understand what was going on. He looked at it and picked it up. 'Alice'

He breathed in deeply before picking up the phone and bringing it to his ear, "Alice?"

Her voice was frantic, disturbed, as she spoke, "Carlisle? Y/N's in danger. She's going to be taken by Victoria."

Carlisle was suddenly hyperaware of everything. Those were the words Alice said to him when he called her that night. This was her second chance.

"How long do I have?" He questioned quickly, already in his car in the garage as he rushed out of the drive.

There was a beat of silence before she answered, "About five minutes. They're at the treaty line."

"Meet us there," Carlisle had no time to elaborate as he hung up, throwing his phone to the seat next to him and rushing to her. He already knew where she was. He'd lived it before. He would not live through what came after again.

He wasted no time in stopping the car with the screech of the wheels against the ground, getting out in no time and seeing the redhead standing with the love of his life. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of her. He hadn't seen her in so long.

"Y/N," he breathed. If he were capable of it, tears would have sprang to his eyes.

Victoria growled, "It's not as good as Bella, but I'll get to her in time." She was inching over to the edge of the line, closer and closer to the small trench where the river divided the territory.

Carlisle spoke in a demanding voice, "Stop this, Victoria! You won't hurt her."

She redhead sneered, "And why is that?"

"I won't let you, not this time," he muttered the last part mostly to himself. He had his hands held out in front of him.

Y/N looked at him only, her eyes flooded with tears, "Carlisle."

He looked at her, a burning in his throat from sorrow and not hunger. He just needed to save her. "It's okay, my love. You'll be okay."

Victoria yanked her back again, closer towards the edge where she threatened to drop her. Carlisle turned back to Victoria, fury in his eyes that seemed so unnatural on him. She taunted, "Might as well say goodbye."

"Not today," he told her, his tone of voice also sounding foreign on him.

"You made the mistake of keeping her human," Victoria laughed wickedly.

"Hey," Y/N said softly, "Carlisle, look at me."

He did, he would always have his eyes on her as much as he possibly could, especially after losing her for so long. This was his second chance, he would not mess this up.

She, on the other hand, wasn't so confident in making it out alive. She swallowed hard, tears staining her face, "Hey, promise me. Promise me you'll move on."

The words hurt him, they cut like a knife as he heard them again. He would not lose her, he couldn't. Not again.

"I don't have to," he told her just as gently.

She looked him in the eyes with a deepness that touched his soul. How he missed her eyes. "Say you love me. Can you do that, please?"

He nodded, he could do that. "I love you, Y/N," he told her. He hadn't told her this last time. He should have.

She smiled, "I love you, Carlisle."

Carlisle's eyes widened as he reached out as things seemed to move in slow motion, even for him. Victoria scoffed and shifted, moving to throw Y/N over the edge and over where the river was. That's how she died the first time. She'd hit her head on one of the sharp rocks by the river.

But that wouldn't happen again.

Carlisle did something this time that he hadn't done before. He relied on his family for help.

Jasper, at the speed of light, lunged forward and caught Y/N in his arms. He held her close, shielding her head by tucking it in his chest as he curled around her. He fell to the dirt ground, cushioning her fall with his body.

The other siblings appeared from the trees, in hot pursuit of Victoria as she darted the other way for her grand getaway. They ran after her, save for Jasper and Carlisle, who were still with Y/N.

Jasper pulled away from Y/N and Carlisle was by her side in no time, looking over her quickly to make sure she was okay. "Are you alright? Are you hurt anywhere? Do you need help?" He drowned her in questions as he looked her over three hundred times.

Y/N nodded, "Carlisle, I'm fine." She smiled widely, throwing herself in his arms. Carlisle froze for a moment, but not long enough for her to register. She had her arms thrown around her in a flash, holding her a little too tight, afraid that if he let go, it would all end up being some dream.

Tears would have stained his face as well if they were able to. He brought her close, inhaling the scent he missed with all of his being, feeling the body he missed holding. When he allowed himself to pull back enough to see her, he was immediately lost in her eyes and in her smile. He never thought he would see her again, and here she was in his arms.

He captured her lips in his, a searing that rocked his world. It was like gravity didn't exist, like she was the only thing keeping him to the ground. He hadn't felt so free, so alive, in years. It felt like longer. Losing her was the most horrible experience he could ever have gone through.

Y/N was left breathless from the kiss. She giggled lightly, still clearly shaken, "I know you almost lost me, but that was something else. Are you okay?"

She laid a hand on his cheek, and he leaned into it, a smile on his face. His face contorted into a look that told her he was wanting to cry. One of his large, cold hands covered hers and held it to his face. "I missed you so much," he whispered, pulling her into another hug he couldn't resist.

"Missed me?" She wondered, confused by his choice of words.

He sighed contently, "I'll explain later. Right now, just...let me hold you."

She wrapped her arms back around him, holding him impossibly close, "Okay. I love you."

If his voice could crack, it would have there as he responded with so much sincerity that the whole world seemed to shake slightly from the truth in his words, "I love you, too. I love you so much, more than anything in this world."

She smiled, kissing his cheek and continuing to hold him.

His children came back, their looks tense and disappointed. Emmett spoke, quite angry from the news, "She got away, jumped over the treaty line."

Carlisle nodded, "I know." But he didn't care. He would later, though. Right now, he would hold the love of his life forever, he would never let her go again.

He got his second chance.

[miyaniacs]

The One Night Stand pt. 6

Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader / Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

Part 1 ; Pt. 2 ; Pt. 3; Pt. 4 ; Pt. 5

A/n: anddd angst is hereeeeeee - feedback is always welcome :) it act hurt to write this lol can you tell I had a small mental breakdown yesterday haha but at least it helped to write this chapter here :)

Warnings: angst; not proof read; nsfw ( minors do not read this), usage of the word whore, rough / angry sex

Characters: Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader , Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

Form: oneshot / short story

The whole ride home you stayed quiet. The image of Toji and the other women kissing, just wouldn’t leave your mind. And it did not stop there.

Your mind is creating all those scenarios. Scenarios that tell you that whenever he was on the phone, when you were with him, he was texting her, telling her about how badly he wants to see her again, telling her when you’d leave so she can come over. Him telling her about how bad you are and annoyed, her laying in his arms, naked with her perfect body, laughing about how pathetic you sound. How pathetic you ARE. Crushing on your best friend, fucking with another that is way out of your league, who’s probably just doing it for laughs. Who are you kidding? He definitely did it just for laughs. Saying all those things to you, to get a reaction out of you, just so he can make fun of it later on with her - or even during it, texting her how stupid you are. How fun it is to mess with you, how you started to look at him differently. How he waits at the door when you left, just to wrap his arms around her small frame, just seconds after you left. His hands on her thighs, lifter her up, placing his lips on hers while carrying her inside, laying her down on the bed, you were in just minutes ago.

Hell he was probably seeing her whenever he was away for missions.

Have they all been missions? Or was it just a weekend he wanted to spent with her and get away from you?

But... how are you to judge? You used him... to get over your best friend... And ended up falling for him instead. You never even questioned if he has someone else. You’ve been totally egoistic the whole time, he could have been in an open relationship with her. Toji isn’t one to tell you things by himself, but you never even thought of asking him?

All you did was use him, complain to him and in the end just leave.

Are you really in the position to cry now?

You feel a soft hand touching your arm.

“Hey, were back home.” You look into the blue eyes of your... boyfriend? Can you really consider him as your boyfriend, knowing that you stopped loving him weeks ago? Even before he officially became your boyfriend?

“Satoru.. I - “ His hand cups your cheek and you stopped talking.

“Let’s get inside... I feel like we both need to confess things.” He smiles sadly.

So here you are now. Sitting on the couch in his apartment starring at his inhumanly blue eyes, waiting for him to start talking.

“So... I’m not blind. Even tho most of the time I look like I am..” he jokes, but quickly stopped the second he sees your emotionale expression, “ Well... I know you like him.” He licks his lips and avoids your gaze.

“Satoru... look I’m sorry, I did not plan on playing you... I - I really thought that I still love you.” You whisper and fiddles with your fingers, “ I’m sorry for hurting you.”

“You did not... I- I’m actually relived.” He sighs and looks down. You’re eyes shoot up and you stare at his face.

“What?” Your body begins to shiver as you watch his lips open, the words leaving them seem unreal. Your brain refuses to accept that this is the truth, but the way he looks directly at you, his eyes showing nothing but honesty, you start to shake.

“How long did you plan to keep this act up?” You whisper.

“I hoped that it wouldn’t be an act the whole time... and that I learn to love you ... the way you do.. or did.” His eyes study your face, looking for any sign of emotion. Your eyes get glassy. Your body shakes. Your mouth is slightly open, but no words leave your lips. The tears now run freely down your face.

“Hey... Y/n..” He tries to pull you into a hug, to give you the hold and safety his hugs always provide you, but you quickly jump up and step away from him.

“Don’t touch me.” you’re voice shakes and is barely over a whisper, yet he heard your words and sees the hurt in your eyes. “Just.... don’t - don’t talk to me again... I - just leave me alone.” You walk backwards, your hands grab your hair, your brain can’t fully understand everything that is happening right now.

Gojo on the other hand knows exactly what is happening.

And he feels his heart break.

He is loosing his best friend.

The one person that always stayed at his side, since school you where with him and you stayed. You stayed during the whole mess his life used to be, or is.

You were the only person the felt comfortable with to truly open up to.

“Y/n... please. Don’t leave. Don’t leave me.” He whispers and stands up, still keeping his distance from you.

“DO YOU FEEL LIKE I WANT TO STAY WITH YOU NOW?” You scream, all your emotions crushing down on you all at once.

“No - no... just - it’s late, just stay here and I leave... I’ll stay away for how long I need to ... I don’t want anything to happen to you...” he looks at you with pleading eyes.

“HOW DO YOU THINK I CAN STAY HERE - IN YOUR HOUSE...where ... where everything reminds me of you...” you whisper the last part. Your hands grab the handle of the door, taking a deep breath you open it and look over your shoulder.

“Goodbye Gojo.”

“How long?” He whispers, his voice shakes.

“I - I don’t know.” You say and look at his eyes, tears running down on both of your faces.

Then you close the door and hurry out of the apartment complex.

On the other side of the door, Gojo collapse.

All of his muscles gave up working, he simply lays on the floor, not really able to breath, thanks to the knot in his throat.

He lost you.

He lost his best friend.

The person he saw himself still joking around when you are both old and your hair colors would finally match.

But he failed. He wanted to give you everything, make you happy, he would have done everything for you, not caring about his own feelings, he just wanted you to be happy.

You - the person he cares the most about.

But at the end, he hurt you and he lost you.

Lost you like he always looses everyone close to him.

With all the strength he has left, he takes out his phone and calls the only person he trust with all of this mess.

“Gojo. It’s 2am. And I just came back home.What do you want.” Nanami sighs.

“Please, find Y/n.” He whispers.

“What? Shouldn’t she be with you?”

“I- I told her...” his voice breaks.

“I’ll save the whole ‘ I’ve told you this would happen’ speech.” Nanami sighs. Why does he have to be involved in this mess.

“Nanami please, I don’t want anything to happen to her.”

“I’m on my way.” Nanami hangs up and puts on his shoes.

___

Why did you left him.

Yes what he did was wrong... but his intention wasn’t... you should not have been so hard to him. Not after all he had to go though... and after all he did for you.

He was okay with giving up his ‘hoe’ life just for your happiness.

Also... are you really okay with loosing your best friend?

You need him. And you know he needs you too. You two have always been there for each other, he trusts you and you trust him. You’re actually questing if you‘ve ever really loved him the way you felt you did. The feelings you felt for him and the ones you feel for Toji are … different. Maybe you never really loved before … and truth to be told, you longed for that feeling of someone loving you. Of someone holding you at night, kissing you, of not being alone when you make dinner… of not feeling unloved.

Maybe … your brain really just made you imagine those feelings for Gojo … yes you love him. And he loves you … but at this point … you realize that it’s the same way you love an family member… because that’s what he is for you… family.

Should you just walk back and talk things out with him.

Yes. Yes that would be the most mature thing to do.

But - no . You decided to be childish and let him suffer.

You don’t want to be the one who apologizes, yet you know that he will also not come and beg on for your forgiveness. Not because of his ego... but because he knows how much he hurt you and he doesn’t want to cause you more pain. So at the end you’ll have to go back to him.

Talking about going back... where are you going right now?

Looking around yourself, you groan.

No.

No .

NO.

Why the actual fuck did your feet walk you over to his.

But... but maybe it was meant to be?

Looking up you see light shining through his window.

Should you just... walk up... and knock in his door?

But what if she is still there, what if she opens the door, in one of his shirts, looking flawless, while you stand there, red puffy eyes, your make-up smudged... No. No you will not be that desperate.

Looking around you spot a bench and sit down.

Your eyes are fixed on the window and your mind starts creating scenarios again.

What is he doing right now? You really want to believe that he’s alone - nether the less your mind won’t let you.

In your head he’s laying in his bed. The women straddling him, running her hands up and down his tones body. Her lips leaving marks on his neck, his eyes are closed, yet the smug smirk is still visible on his face.

His hands grabbing her hips, grinding her against him, a deep growl escapes his lips, as she sits up, bouncing up and down on him- the sound of your phone gets your back to reality.

Without looking at the ID you answer your phone, hoping you’ll be able to hear Tojis deep voice.

“Y/n.”

“Nanami?” You blink a few times, not expecting him to call you at this time of the day.

“Where are you?”

“Home.” You lie.

“No you’re not. I’m at your home and you’re not there.” He sighs, “I know what happened. So where are you?”

“Did Gojo ask you to find me?” You roll your eyes.

“Yes. He’s worried about you.” He says in a calm voice.

“Wow isn’t he a wonderful person.” You roll your eyes.

“I am too. I just want to be sure you’re save.” He says sincerely.

“I am. I just need some time alone.” You sigh. The light in the window went off.

“... I don’t feel good with leaving you alone at night in this city.”

“I promise I’ll call you when I don’t feel save.” You smile.

“... I can’t convince you to let me pick you up?” He sighs again.

“No.”

“... well... just don’t go to inside.” He hangs up.

You look around confused and see the silhouette of a men walking away.

He knew exactly where you where.

Why are you not surprised.

Then you see something moving in the corner of your eyes.

There’s a person walking - more like storming out of the building.

The clicking of her heels echoes though the street.

Her long dark hair, flows in the wind, even now her hips sway perfectly even with her aggressive walking.

Was this the women from the bar?

Does this mean he’s alone now?

‘Don’t go inside.’ You repeat the words Nanami told you over and over - as you make your way towards the entrance.

From the distance Nanami watches you. He knew you wouldn’t listen. Looking up he shakes his head, again why is he involved in this. Or better - why did he let himself getting involved in all of this.

“Gojo.”

Another man steps out of the shadows.

“How long have you been here?” Nanami asks.

“I followed her.” He admits.

“And why did you call me up then?” He looks at him annoyed.

“In case she needed someone to talk …” Gojo stares at her figure entering the building.

“Do you think it will end well?” He looks at Nanami.

“Depends on how stubborn Fushiguro will be.”

“So I’ll better stay in case she ends up crying again.”

“You think she’ll want to see you then?” Nanami raises an eyebrow.

“No… but at least I can teach him a lesson for hurting her.” He says and his lips form a tight line.

“… I don’t think you’re in any position to judge.” Nanami shakes his head, “Go now. I’ll stay a bit longer.”

“But -“

“No. Go.” Gojo sighs and turns around.

“Gojo - I know you think you’ve lost her as your best friend … but I don’t think that’s the case. At least not for too long.” Gojo stops for a seconds, his eyes lightning up behind his glasses.

“I hope you’re right.” He says and leaves.

- some time before -

This doesn’t feel right.

His hips slam against her ass, one of his hands grab her waist, the other her hair.

Whenever she moans, he feels like throwing up.

Her voice sounds so wrong.

His hands release her body and grab her face from the back, shoving his fingers in her mouth, trying to muffle what ever she’s saying. Closing his eyes he tries to ignore who is fucking, one of his hands moves down and wraps around her throat. Pulling her towards him, her head falls over his shoulder, while he mercilessly continues fucking her. Some inhuman sounds leave her body, while Toji let’s all of his anger out on her.

He knows it’s not you, but with his eyes closed he can project all of the imagines of you, which he saved in his mind, on this girl and hopefully be able to reach his climax soon. Your beautiful face, the way your lips part whenever he touches you at this one spot, how beautiful his name sounds whenever you moan it…

“Omg Tojiii - I missed this so much.” She moans. Opening his eyes he grits his teeth.

“Shut the fuck up you stupid whore.” He says and the hand around her throat tightens.

He really tries to imagine it being you that’s being with him right now, but he can’t.

She doesn’t look like you, doesn’t sound like you, doesn’t feel like you - she’s simply isn’t you.

He let’s go of her face and throat and pulls out of her.

Trying to catch her breath she looks at him confused.

“Toji? Babe?”

Not even sparing her a glance he gets up and puts on some sweatpants.

“Not in the mood.” He huffs.

“Let me help you get into it thennnn.” She crawls over the bad and her hands reach to the hem of his sweatpants.

“No.” He steps back and grabs her clothes throwing them at her.

“Leave.”

“What?”

“I said leave.”

“But - but daddy we always had so much fun together …” she smirks and looks up at him.

“I said. Get. The fuck. Out. Of. My. Home.” He growls.

“Is it because of that slut?!” She angrily pulls on her dress, glaring at Toji who pulls out one of his cigarettes.

“Wow. Haven’t you told me at first that you’re just messing with her to annoy this guy with the white hair ?! And that I’m way better in bed than her?!” She huffs.

“I lied.” He says and blows the smoke in her face.

“Oh so some ugly fucking slut stole your he-“

Tojis grabs her face, squishing her cheeks inwards.

“I dare you, Max, call her a slut one more time.” His green eyes glow as he pushes her away, making her fall back on the bed.

“You bastard.” Max says and slips in her heals storming towards the door.

“Don’t call me again - like ever.”

“Never did - you were the one blowing up my phone ” He laughs as she slams the door.

Turning off the lights, he sighs and falls down on his sofa. His head rolls back and he stares at the ceiling.

He shouldn’t have left with her.

Deep down he knew that this would help him getting over you.

He looks at his phone.

Should he just call you?

No. You’re probably busy with Gojo right now.

His heart stings at the thought of it.

One of his hands massages his temples. He can’t stop thinking about you.

Oh how he wished that you were here with him right now.

In his arms, telling him about anything and everything.

Every second he spends with you seemed so easy and peaceful. He never felt that way since he lost Megumis mother.

A knock on the door interrupts him from fully embracing this depressed episode.

“I TOLD YOU TO LEAVE MAX!” He screams angrily.

“Toji… ?” A soft broken voice calls out his name and his eyes shoot open.

Taglist: @laceymorganwrites @ereeeeehhh @gojoscumslut @channieboii @alltimeluw ( I’ll tag you since you binged the first chapters) I hope it’s okay 🥺👉🏼👈🏼 ) : @cocotaku420 , @angelofthorr , @sukunas-cult-leader

[ahogehope]

BlazBlue Alternative Dark War Nightmare Fiction Event English Translation (Part 8: At the Edge)

IT’S FINALLY OVER! -cue game over music-

PLEASE READ THIS FIRST:  I realize this isn’t getting as much (actually not much of any) traffic as opposed to the reddit posts, but I’d like to extend this request over here as well. I’d definitely like to continue working on translations for this game but am unsure whether I should jump right into the most current event (the Dark Mai one) or start on actual story content next. So my question is: what do you guys want to see more? Reply to this post or shoot me an ask or whatever it is tumblr does these days.

Crossposted from reddit just for a little more exposure.

This is part 8, or the ninth story quest in the event.

Previous parts can be found here: [Part 1-1, Part 1-2, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7]

Some notes:

- The default name of Rei is used for the player character and was selected as male at the beginning of the game.

- I’m still on the fence on if I should be using honorifics or not. Your opinion on the matter would be greatly appreciated.

Click here to be taken to a pastebin with the translated dialogue or look under the read more to read it here. 

Section 8 – “At the Edge” (TL: Read as “kazuaru hazama-nite”)

Kazuma This is...

Ciel It’s very similar to the room we found hidden beneath Ishana.

Raabe So... this is the “innermost part.”

Hazama Oh? What’s with you guys all of a sudden? You’ve all got this shocked look on your faces. Have you guys been here before?

>We’ve been somewhere like this before. Hazama Really? Normally I’d ask to hear more about what sort of place that was but... Hazama We’re not exactly in the best place to be taking our time, wouldn’t you agree?

>Never seen it before in my life. Hazama Hey now, don’t just leave me in the dark like that. Hazama You’ll just make me even more curious if you keep it a secret, y’know. Hazama But... now isn’t really the best time to get into that, is it?

Fuzzy Raabe’s right though. This is the innermost part you guys have been so keen on getting to.

Fuzzy You brought those six keys here so you could activate the elements... and finally escape.

Raabe What happens next then?

Fuzzy You’ll just have to find out for yourself, right? You will, won’t you? Really though, even I don’t have any idea what’s supposed to happen next. Ahahaha.

Raabe We don’t have much of a choice either way, it would seem.

Kazuma As soon as we activate the elements, all of the mana we’ve collected will activate with them and accumulate around us.

Kazuma Much more mana than we’re used to will gather together in one place.

Hazama Will that be problematic for us?

Kazuma There’s no reason why it should be. This is probably the perfect place for it actually...

Fuzzy If you’re gonna go ahead and start it up, I’d let Kazuma do it. Since he’s a magician he should be used to working with mana and the elements already.

Ciel Kazuma-san, would you be willing to activate the elements for us?

Kazuma I, uh, yeah, I can do that. That shouldn’t be too difficult.

Kazuma Let’s see here...

Hazama You’ve looked like you’ve had something on your mind for a while now.

Hazama I agree that Kazuma-san’s the best suited out of all of us to carry this out but... don’t push yourself if you don’t think you can handle it.

Hazama If we really have to we can always looks for another way to activate them...

Kazuma ......

Kazuma ...No.

Kazuma I can do it.

Raabe Hey, hold on...

Hazama Are you sure?

Kazuma Yes. Please, allow me.

[a green magic circle appears, surrounded by the six elements]

Hazama Oh my... I can already feel how the air around us has changed. Looks like you managed to pull it off without a hitch after all.

Ciel Is this... activated mana? But this feeling, where have I...

Raabe It can't be. This is...! Hey, Kazuma! Stop whatever it is that you’re doing!

Kazuma ......

Raabe Are you even listening!? Earth to Kazuma!!

Kazuma ...Ah... it’s just like I thought. I was wondering... if that’s what it was...

>What’s wrong, Kazuma-san? >Who are you talking to?

Kazuma Who...

[a dark green shadow with veins and one glowing eye starts to materialize]

Hazama Uuh, guh, ghh....

Ciel Hazama-san? Is something wrong?

Hazama Please be careful... Something’s... coming...!

[the shadow becomes fully visible]

Raabe Wh... What’s going on?

Fuzzy Hmm, I wonder what it could be～? What do you think?

Fuzzy What about you, Rei? What do your “eyes” see? You can see it, can’t you?

Raabe Don’t look. ...I guess that’s impossible, huh. Try not to focus as much as you can. This... isn’t a collection of mana.

Ciel Raabe-san, Rei-san! We’ve got a problem.

Ciel I’ve confirmed the appearance of the cauldron.

Ciel But... there’s nothing around here that looks like it could be the cauldron. And if there’s a cauldron here, then who is the Observer...?

Raabe They’re both right in front of us.

Ciel Eh? Wh-What do you mean?

Raabe The cauldron came into existence across this entire world the moment this guy appeared. In other words, that shadow... it’s the Observer.

Raabe It’s also the cauldron. There’s no other explanation for this sort of reaction. This much condensed seithr... this is the cauldron.

Hazama What’s that now? Seithr?

Hazama You mean what Kazuma-san’s magic is activating right now isn’t...

Raabe It’s not the elements or mana, no. It’s seithr!

??? Ahh～ god, you losers took fore～ver to show up.

Ciel !?

??? Shit though, you guys sure have been through a lot, huh? But thanks to you I can talk as much as I want again.

>The shadow spoke! ??? Kyahahahaha, just a shadow, eh... Well, I guess that’ll have to do for now.

>Who are you? ??? What, you wanna know my name? You really wanna know who I am? Sure, I’ll humor you...

Kazuma ...Yuuki Terumi...

Spirit Terumi Oops, looks like you beat me to it. But yeah, the kid’s right. Don’t go forgetting it, numbskulls.

Spirit Terumi Yuuki Terumi. That’s the name, folks.

Hazama You were lurking inside of me.

Hazama Earlier when we were fighting Saya-san, she said she had sensed something within me... I wasn’t entirely sure what she meant at the time.

Hazama I had no idea that it would turn out to be something like this.

Spirit Terumi Hyahahahaha! Damn, I didn’t realize you were so out of the loop, Hazama-chan.

Ciel So you’re familiar with Hazama-san as well.

Spirit Terumi Oh yeah, best of buddies, thickest of thieves, call it what you like but we’re rea～l intimate. In fact, I know all you guys.

Spirit Terumi You’re the morons who’ve been running all over the city doing my dirty work for me. Hyahahahahahaha!

Kazuma So you were... using us? Does that mean that Fuzzy-san was also...?

Fuzzy Can’t say I know about any of this. I’m only here to fulfill my role. Really I’m just a pawn here.

Fuzzy You guys are all just pawns too. But even the pawns are necessary in the end, right? It’s not really a game if all the pieces aren’t in order, after all.

Spirit Terumi The trap over here gets it. And now since you’ve been such good little slaves so far, how’s about you do me one last teensy-weensy favor...

Spirit Terumi And die for me, will you? Hyahahahahaha!

Raabe I see now. We’ve been playing right into his hands this entire time.

Raabe When Kazuma started the activation sequence, he wasn’t channeling the mana or the elements. He wound up summoning this guy instead.

Ciel No way... Then does that mean the whole story about escaping from the city was a lie?

Spirit Terumi Come on, even if I’m not that cruel. I’ll still let you guys out.

Spirit Terumi All aboard the Terumi express! Now serving a one-way trip straight into the Boundary! Just make sure to keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle, or you might lose them!

Hazama Are you always this egotistical?

Hazama Things may have gone your way up until now, but we’re not going to just stand here and let you do whatever you want.

Hazama ...It was wrong of me to bring you all this way when I sensed something was amiss, no matter how small it may have been.

Hazama Looks like I got you all mixed up in something undesirable after all... I’m really sorry, Rei-san.

Hazama But I don’t think I’ll be able to handle this one by myself. I’m afraid I must ask for your assistance one last time.

>Let’s all get out of here together. Hazama Thank you. I’m... truly glad to have met you.

>Let’s kick his ass and get the hell out of here! Spirit Terumi Ooh, someone’s a little touchy. That sort of enthusiasm is contagious, y’know.

Ciel Assuming combat position. All eyes on target. Ready when you are!

Raabe His form is still unstable. It’s hard to say if his existence has fully taken root yet or not.

Raabe The reaction he’s giving off is definitely strong but... he might not be able to use the full extent of his power the way he is now.

Raabe We need to strike before all of the seithr has finished gathering in one place. Let’s get this over with quickly.

Fuzzy Go, go! You can do it!

Hazama Are you ready for this, Kazuma-san?

Kazuma Ah, uh... Right.

Spirit Terumi Oh? You wouldn’t really team up against little ol’ me, would you? Heheheheh.

Hazama Well then. Let’s go, Terumi-san.

Spirit Terumi Guh, shit...! My power... no, none of this shit. None of it’s good enough!

Kazuma ......

Fuzzy Whoa. You guys really creamed him.

Hazama ...I think that shadow inside of me... Terumi-san detached himself completely from me during the course of that fight.

Hazama It’s the strangest feeling. It’s unsettling but also like a... weight’s been lifted, in a sense.

Spirit Terumi Ha, haha... Hyahahaha...! Damn, that really could’ve gone better.

Spirit Terumi I guess you win this one. I really lost to some lame spin-off side characters. Ain’t that right?

Kazuma Yes. I... think that’s what happened.

Spirit Terumi Heh, hahahaah! Yeah, them’s the breaks, huh. Tch, what a pain in the ass.

Spirit Terumi Man, this sucks... you’re really blue-balling me here. Taking on a bunch of pussies like you should’ve been a joke.

Spirit Terumi Sure screwed myself on that one.

Kazuma ...Please send us back.

Kazuma As long as you do that... I don’t think we’ll have to hurt you anymore.

Spirit Terumi Ha! Hurt me? You really think you can hurt me? Hyahaha, you don’t have a lot going on underneath that pretty face, do you, kid?

Spirit Terumi Don’t make me laugh.

Ciel Are you going to continue resisting?

Spirit Terumi Oooh, close but no cigar! This isn’t what you’d call resistance...

Spirit Terumi This is an escape!

[static]

Kazuma ...Ah. H-Huh?

Ciel This is...

>It’s Ishana! Kazuma Yes, this is Ishana. It’s the same place we were before we found ourselves in that strange city...

>Are we back? Ciel ...It would appear so. This is where we were standing before we were taken to that strange city.

Ciel But what does this mean? It’s safe to say that we took out the Observer but we weren’t able to destroy the Cauldron...

Ciel Regardless... we managed to escape the Phantom Field.

Raabe I still need to look into everything further so this is just a hypothesis for now, but...

Raabe I don’t think that city was an undiscovered Phantom Field.

Raabe It’s foundation was built on Ishana who had already lost its Observer.

Raabe Using the power of Observation, that shadow calling itself Terumi must have found its way in and overwrote things when it took over.

Kazuma So it was... re-Observed?

Raabe That’s exactly what it was.

Raabe In other words, we weren’t so much moved somewhere else as it was our surroundings themselves were changing before our eyes... That’s probably what happened.

Hazama Well, it was certainly an experience I could have lived without and I’m still not overly sure how any of it was possible but...

Hazama Everything worked out in the end, right?

Hazama We all made it out safe and sound. Let’s be thankful for that, shall we?

Hazama Ahh～, truly all’s well that ends well.

Ciel Hazama-san. And Fuzzy-san, too. The two of you came back to Ishana as well I see.

Fuzzy Bzzt, wrong answer. Really, did you hear a thing Raabe just said? None of us actually came back anywhere.

Fuzzy We were all just sort of displaced.

Ciel Ah, so we were. So then would Fuzzy-san and Hazama-san be considered foreign entities in this situation?

Raabe There’s no way to know for sure what the Phantom Field has classified them as but... that’s probably the case.

Raabe Neither of them are involved with Ishana.

Hazama Hmm～, while this place does look incredibly delightful, I’m afraid this isn’t where I belong.

Fuzzy Me either. I’m not getting any good vibes from the ambience around here. I don’t think I’d fit in very well.

Raabe ...Once a Phantom Field has been liberated of its Observer, any foreign materials left behind should gradually start to return to where they were originally from.

Raabe Here soon your existential information should be sent back to your own worlds.

Fuzzy I guess we’re stuck hanging around here until that happens, huh～.

Fuzzy Well, not like it matters. I’ve never been here before so there’s no harm in exploring a bit. Don’t you think?

[Fuzzy leaves]

Hazama And there he goes. I suppose it’s best to just let him have his fun while he can.

Hazama But more importantly... Rei-san, Ciel-san, Kazuma-san, Raabe-san.

Hazama Thank you all so much for your help.

Hazama When I was still wandering around all by myself, I was at a loss as to what I was supposed to do...

Hazama But as soon as I joined up with you guys, everything just sort of naturally clicked into place.

Hazama A lot happened back there, but I want you to know that from the bottom of my heart I’m grateful we were able to escape from that bizarre city.

Raabe ...Is that all you have to say? I can’t say I’m very convinced.

Raabe It still feels like you’ve been manipulating us this entire time.

Hazama Don’t be ridiculous! It must’ve been fate that I ran into you when I did. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.

Hazama I’d even go so far as to say that you saved me.

Hazama I’m honestly in your debt. If you ever need an extra hand for something, I’ll be sure to do everything in my power to help you out.

Hazama Then again... I can’t guarantee that the me you’ll encounter then will be the same as I am now.

Hazama Let’s do this the right way this time. My name is Hazama. It’s a pleasure to meet you.

Hazama Rei-san.

>Pleased to meet you.

Hazama Yes. I wish you all the best.

Ciel ......

Raabe ...We still need to head back and check the data to see if this was indeed the abnormality the System was detecting.

Raabe We’ve overstayed our welcome. Let’s return to base.

Kazuma ...I guess this is goodbye then.

Kazuma Hadn’t you said earlier that you couldn’t stay for long?

Ciel That’s correct. We’re still only outsiders in this world.

Kazuma ......

Kazuma ...I’m really glad I was able to see you again. Getting to spend more time together... it was really fun.

Kazuma I feel like I know myself a little better now.

Kazuma Thank you so much.

Ciel There’s no need to thank us. We were merely here for our mission.

Kazuma You’re as blunt as always, Ciel-san...

Kazuma ...I think I have my own perplexing “mission” in front of me... nevermind. Hang in there for me, will you?

Kazuma I’m rooting for you.

>Thank you. >Good luck, Kazuma-san.

[static]

Kagami Rei! Ciel! Thank god you guys made it back in one piece～!

Ciel Oh. You startled me. What’s the matter, Kagami-san? You seem out of sorts.

Kagami Well, what did you expect!? Almost as soon as you two got in you just fell off the grid!

Kagami I wasn’t able to pinpoint where either of were for a long time...

Kagami Your signals only reappeared inside Ishana’s Phantom Field a little while ago, y’know!

Kagami So what happened? Nevermind, it’ll be faster to get the answers from Raabe’s internal data.

Kagami Either way, I’ll get an investigation started. First you guys need to go get a medical check.

Kagami And watch yourselves this time, got it!?

Ciel Y-Yes, ma’am.

Kagami I  can’t let you out of my sight for even a second. Geez...

[Kagami leaves]

Ciel It would seem we’ve caused quite the stir in our absence.

Ciel Let’s head to the medical room. I’ll go with you, Rei-san.

Hazama So this is supposed to be the famous Ishana, huh? Now that I’ve finally gotten a good look at it, it truly is nothing more than a ghost town.

Hazama ...Well then. I wonder where I should be heading next? With the help of those suckers, I was able to remove the chain that was inside me.

Hazama I should be able to go just about anywhere now.

Hazama At any rate, Terumi-san is right back where he should be. Although I can’t say I’m overly thrilled that he left me to do all the grunt work by myself.

Hazama ...I would have been in quite the bind if it weren’t for that boy, though. Heheh.

Hazama But still, what a successful endeavor that turned out to be!

Hazama For me, for Terumi-san... Even for him.

Hazama “End Gazer”... The One Who Sees the End. I can’t wait to see how this will play out.

Kazuma ......

Kazuma Ishana... All these years here, and I still haven’t learned a thing.

Kazuma But... I feel like I finally know why I’m here... Just a little...

Kazuma I feel like I’m home.

https://imgur.com/a/VfNvhRF

[my-writings-and-musings]

hey! so idk if you write platonic relationships but if you do, could you write something about whirl asking someone to be his amica endura? i just. i need more whirl love in my life and GODDAMN i love the way you write him sm gshdjf,,, thank you!! <33

I miiiiggghhht have gone a little overboard on this one and made it more of a short story than an answer... But I hope you like it! Thank you so much for the compliment, I do try my best to write Whirley well!

Whirl doesn't like to let fear boss him around. Ordinarily that's easy enough to accomplish, he's a big bot and threatening his life is a great way to end yours, and any threat he can't kill (for moral or legal reasons) can usually be ignored out of existence. As a result he's had very little to be afraid of these past few millennia, and he's even perfected his reflexes to the point he can quickly judge what reaction is warranted whenever that creeping feeling returns, meaning it never lasts more than a few minutes tops. It's a solid strategy, and the proof is that he's outlived everyone who's ever doubted it. Most of them, anyway. He's been getting sloppy since this whole quest thing.

Or more specifically, since he met you on this quest thing. The quest thing that's becoming less about the quest and more about the real treasure you've all gained along the way, which for once isn't the (many) guns he's found or the (countless) bad guy corpses he's left in the rearview mirrors.

Nope. It's you. The squishiest little air breather his optic has ever beheld, and darn the saps on this crew for rubbing off on him, because he wants to go out of his way to let you know that. Their silly insistence on honesty has made him feel like you need to know what you mean to him, and isn't that just ridiculous?

But if it's so ridiculous why was he scared? Because you could say no, damn it! You'd be silly not to! It was one thing for you to hang out with the ship's resident screw up and part time nutjob, maybe even have a drink with him, and sure you'd actually called him your friend and the two of you had looked death in the eye to insult its cataracts on more than one occasion together... But to officially declare to the crew and the universe you were Amica Endura and that you actually liked him?

You'd be mortified he even thought it was okay to ask, obviously. Then you'd wisely cut all ties and pretend you didn't know him, and he'd be left with... well, not nothing, but not much above nothing either. Worse actually now that he considered it, he'd probably be left with pain. The kind of pain you only got when you lost something, a particular experience he'd spent a very long time trying to ensure he'd never have to endure again, and he'd been doing pretty well until you showed up. But he wasn't mad at you, he was mad at himself, both for having the audacity to grow feelings and then getting soft enough to actually acknowledge them like a sap.

But facing fear was far better than the alternative. If he kept on pretending you were just another chum, that you didn't deserve the title of Amica for what you meant to him, then he'd have guilt. More guilt, to be specific, and he was already fully stocked on that. So... fear it was then. Fear and the inevitable pain that would follow when you did the only sane thing you could.

But hey, what was another mistake in the pile, right?

You'd been in your room by yourself, just relaxing an perusing the wonders of interstellar Wi-Fi, when he'd decided there literally couldn't be a better time. Some bots insisted that a proper ceremony required witnesses, but those bots couldn't judge him if there were no witnesses, now could they? Checkmate, seeing as how the two of you would definitely never speak to each other again after this... His claws had knocked on the door with as little force as he could muster, some part of him hoping you wouldn't hear and he'd have a reason to retreat, but as usual he also had to open his mouth and ruin that plan.

"Hey, Y/N, you uh... you alive in there?"

Approximating a facepalm as best he could without either half of the required components, his spark dropped when you replied with a good natured laugh, probably thinking he was just being his usual self and not making much sense. Which was true, just not in the usual way...

You'd happily opened the door with a command on your data pad, inviting him to come in and relax because you weren't up to anything anyway. Claws clacking together nervously, he'd entered with an unconvincing veneer of calm, far too worried to really pretend otherwise. Long legs carry him with slow steps, and he can't help but survey your room; he's certain this is the last time he'll ever see it. Your tiny belongings looking so ridiculously small in the Cybertronian sized living space, the ladders that have been welded to everything, gosh, is it foggy in here or is that just some emotional turmoil in his optic?

"Whirl? Are you okay?"

Of course not, but thanks for asking is what he wants to say, but a more accurate reply would involve him mentioning how things were actually really okay for a while... Until he'd started messing it all up, a process he'd be finishing up now so you could both move on with your lives.

"Oh... that's a matter of debate." He finally brings himself to say, claws firmly pinched to prevent him from any further tapping. You look more concerned than baffled, which is nice. Somehow you'd always managed to look past what he said to understand what he means. That's something he'll miss, once he finally manages to get this over with. Of course his voicebox is pitching a fit and refusing to cooperate, but it's going to be a simple series of steps once he gets it going. He'll ask you to be Amica, you'll refuse, and then he leaves. It's such a simple plan that even he can't find something to blow up in the process. Not for lack of trying, mind you...

"Is there something you need? You've been a little off lately." You said, putting aside your data pad to move to the edge of the berth. It hadn't escaped your notice that the usually loud mech had been growing quiet around you as of late, his one optic looking almost forlornly in your direction when he thought you were focused elsewhere, and so you sat and let your legs dangle off the berth to let him know you were listening. His antenna twitched backwards like a startled ear on a mammal.

"Me? Well, I'd be inclined to say..." Some half attempt at a joke died before it even could be set up, and he quickly decided the stalling had gone on long enough. If he had to endure one more second of gnawing apprehension he was going to have to destroy something exceptionally expensive to shake off the nerves, and he had just gotten his room the way he liked it. Better to go down with some dignity if he could. "You're spot on, actually. I've been off because I've got something I've gotta get off my chassis, but it's not gonna be fun for either of us. Still needs to be done though, ain't that a shame?"

Any other person on the ship would have been terrified if he'd said that to them. They'd have expected some kind of terrible bodily injury, no doubt, but you knew him better than that. You knew that if he wanted to hurt anyone it would happen as soon as he entered a room, and with something way more intimidating to kick off the fun. Instead your expression was just thoughtful, concerned, and only a little confused. "I... if it upsets you then yeah, but why do you have to do it?"

"Do you know what an Amica is?" He blurted out, the words almost hurting as they came into being. It felt like he had just struck another match, surrounded himself with fuel, and this time there'd be no interruptions.

"Amica?"

"There an echo in here?" He said dryly, unable to help jumping on the chance for an old classic. Apologetically lowering his optics, he released a quick bit of air from his vents in imitation of a cough. "Yeah, that, know what it is?"

"Sure, it's like... best friends, only way deeper, bound for life." You said, recalling it amongst the many Cybertronian terms you'd been learning these past few months. It had obviously had cultural implications and connections you just didn't have the experience to understand, but the importance of the practice had been abundantly clear from the moment you first heard of it. Chief among the things you'd been able to determine was that it carried no less weight than being a Conjunx, it was just a different kind of love.

He clicked his claws together in an imitation of an affirming snap. "That's the one. It's tough to explain to aliens, but that's the basic rundown, and there's a whole ceremony to it and everything. Did you know that?" He appreciated that you only shook your head and looked back to him for an explanation, it made it quite clear you were intent on listening as much as possible. "A bot has to ask the one who's less likely to ask, and they get to say yes or no during the ceremony. I'd imagine by now you've figured out I came here to ask you to be my Amica, start the ceremony and everything, only thing stopping me is I... just don't want to."

It was the first time he'd surprised you in a long time. There had been... well, you'd been fairly certain he was leading up to something else there, and had just been nervous. You had to repeat back what he'd said in a question for clarification. "You don't want to ask me?"

"What? No! Don't put words in the mouth I don't have!" He replied vigorously, taking a step closer to your berth and throwing up his arms in total consternation. Upon seeing your comforting near smile of reasurance, he drops his claws and holds them near his face, a gesture he typically only performs when anxious. Thoughts are beginning to run wild in his head, so he knows he'll have to wrap this up before they sidetrack him, or he'll never get it done. Bless your little fleshy fuel pump for wanting to comfort him, but there just isn't time for that. "What I'm trying to get across here, or say or whatever, is that I want to but I shouldn't..."

"Ah... why shouldn't you? Does me being a human make it... illegal?" You ask, finally getting an inkling as to what's going on. As usual, his burying of the lede means you're far less shocked than you should be now that he's actually getting to the point, but you want to use that to stay calm. Whirl has been a dear friend to you, as protective as could be from the moment he decided he liked you. The least you can do is be what he needs by letting him talk things out in a way that works for him, even if it feels so much easier to cut to the chase; you'd love to be his Amica no matter the hurdles.

"You and I both know that would only make it better. Illegal friendship? Sounds more like an endorsement than a deterrent to me." It's hard for him not to laugh at the very idea. If this was actually against some law? Oh, how very different things would be... Somehow he'd feel okay then, perhaps because this would just be another of his crazy ideas, and not something sentimental and completely irreconcilable with who he was. Previously upright antenna drooped low at the disappointment. "But... no, no such luck. It's not illegal for me to ask you, just stupid, because you're going to say no."

Suddenly so many things made sense, but in the shock of sadness that followed you couldn't help but speak, your own disappointment showing through. "I am?"

"Well of course you are! That little pink glob between your ears is smart enough to know better! If you were most saps, sure, you'd probably say yes because oooh friendship, but the fact that you're sensible enough to say no is exactly why I want to ask!" He replied, sounding emphatic instead of angry. Despite being a master at appearing mad for the sake of self defense, he can't bring himself to appear anything but... sad. Every part of him is wilting from the sadness that's clocking in early. Because you have to say no, that's just how this works, and his resignation to that fact is clear no matter how badly he wishes it wasn't true. "Believe me, I know what smart looks like. I know what sensible looks like. Most people have a terrible deficit of the two, but not... not you. That's what makes you worth asking, and also worth saying no. Weird, huh?"

Your heart is breaking, somewhat for you, but mostly for him. Did he really think he was unworthy of friendship? Of any kind of love? Clearly you were his best friend, but in the fog of self loathing clouding his vision, he's convinced himself that it has to end now that he truly feels he isn't alone. "Whirl..."

Venting in sharply, like a human sucking in a breath to hold off tears, he perks up and gestures a claw back over his shoulder. "Look, I'm just going to save us both some drama and skip to the part where you kick me out. Since I'm nice, I'll even pretend you're big enough to actually do it. I'll throw myself into the hallway and everything, really seal-"

"Whirl." You say softly, knowing that yelling won't help but desperate to keep him from leaving. It works, but he pretends to be interested in the floor, crouching like he's preemptively flinching away from a hit. It's not the first time you've seen him do this. Coming to understand the big bot had been more natural for you than most, but had still taken effort, and in all the trial and error you'd learned he just needed things phrased a little differently. Thus, you decided to give what you'd learned a final trial.

"Can I at least... actually get a chance to say no?"

It was just indirect enough to immediately catch his attention, but his wounded look remained unchanged, like he didn't dare hope.

"Any particular reason why?" He asked, tilting his helm as if you've piqued his interest with a daring and devilish scheme. There's a lot going on behind his optic, but you're unflinching as he levies it back on you, smiling to emphasize you have nothing to hide.

"It's... well, it's not really fair for you to decide something for me, is it? Even if you know what the answer will be, shouldn't I get the chance to make that choice myself in the moment?"

He clacks his claws together to imitate snapping fingers. "Damn it all, you're a clever little fleshy, I'll give you that. Appealing to my peerless sense of justice for self determination to get your way." The mask of neutrality is razor thin, and beneath it he's anything but calm. None of this is going the way he planned. Far from casting him out, you're encouraging him to go through with this, but why? You can't actually plan to say yes, so why all this fuss? It's not in you to set him up, but he can't bring himself to hope he has a chance at the impossible... So he just plays along like it's all a game, albeit a very sad one, and one he intends to play carelessly. "If you... I'll give you the way to say no and the way to say yes, okay? That way you'll... really mean it when you say no."

"I promise I'll mean it." You say, wishing so badly he'd believe you wanted his friendship. It'd be so much easier than coordinating with him to give you a chance to accept his Amica proposal. Yet you know his manner of processing can't be argued with, so instead you just keep going, praying he'll let you have a chance to show how much you care. "But I need to know how it all works."

"Well, I'll say some fancy words, show my spark, all that mushy stuff most folks love." He waves his claws about, as if to brush away the silliness of the ceremony right there. The idea of baring a spark surprises you, but you keep quiet, focused only on getting through to the part he's convinced himself won't happen. Even as he continues his pessimistic prediction is obvious in his tone. "Then, when I've said my piece and pause, you just say "I refuse" and it's all over, we don't have to talk again, I'll leave and..."

If you were close enough you'd have laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder, but thankfully your silent look of encouragement does the job, and he overlaps his wrists whilst looking away.

"But if you were going to say yes, hypothetically, then after my pause you just go quiet and... put your little digits on mine... Then repeat after me when I say "today, tomorrow and always" to wrap it up. But since that isn't happening, let's just get this over with, eh?"

It's the flattest one of his jokes has ever fallen. For all his skill keeping his feelings reigned in, even he can't prevent a little bit of intimidation slipping through. It's impossible not to be afraid, because he wants so badly to hope, but he knows what happens when he does... Still, he wants to at least get it over with, and he gathers himself just as you give your final encouragement with a smile.

"Lets."

Clearing his vents, it occurs to him that he's never been more self conscious than he is right now, which is an unfortunate feeling to prelude him baring his spark.

The soft glow fills the room as he shifts back his chest plating, revealing the orb of his "soul" as you'd once called it, and he internally admits that your quiet expression of awe gives him the boost he needs to start. "I bid you stand in the glow of my spark... so um, that you may feel the heat of my words and k-know them to be true."

It's arguably one of the only times he's ever stuttered, and while you don't react, he's never felt more foolish. Was it not enough for him to make a spectacle out of himself just by doing this? Did he really have to butcher the whole process too? Feeling dizzy, he forces his voicebox to try and start making words again. He's painfully aware of how ridiculous he looks; one eyed, mangled screw up trying to be sentimental... But darn it all, he made a commitment. Putting his claws beside his spark, he kept going into what he knew would be a bitter end.

"I invite you to receive my light and in doing so become my Amica Endura—from now until forever."

He doesn't realize he's at the end until he runs out of words. The fear and helplessness that follow are akin to the level he'd experience falling off a cliff with no flight to save him, and for an eternity he's left floundering in anticipation of the impact. This is supposed to be it, the moment you turn him away and rightfully go forward in life, better off for having left him. But you're quiet. Your words of dismissal aren't forthcoming, and your soft and somewhat sad little smile doesn't indicate that he should expect them. But why not?! Why won't you say them?! What could you possibly hope to gain by accepting?

You hardly dare to breathe as you wait for him to begin the next phase. The glow of his spark illuminates everything, allowing you to see the fear in every inch of his being, particularly his lone expressive optic. He doesn't want to believe you're saying yes, as much as he treasures you, he just can't believe you'd ever feel the same about him. But you do, and you try to communicate that with every fiber of your being. You want to be friends with him through anything that may come, and you pray that he can see the depth of your conviction in your eyes.

Something like a hiccup shakes his shoulders. You haven't refused him. It's been almost a minute, the light of his spark fluttering as the sheer power of his emotions coursed through it, namely his disbelief that any of this could be real. Something like relief but a million times stronger makes his vents hitch. He's still processing the turn of events when he remembers he has more to say.

"Ah... Y/N... for you... um... for your acceptance..." He croaks, trying to keep an accursed tear from leaving his optic by briefly tilting back his helm. You're similiarly affected, but you let yourself sniffle and shed a few tears as he approaches with his claws out to you. They're big enough that even a semblance of holding hands isn't really possible, but you grab the tip of each and squeeze regardless, knowing the sentiment is still quite clear. You're his friend, and you always will be, through thick and thin. Now he's finally starting to see that too.

He doesn't fully have a grasp on the fact that this is real, but he doesn't care about that as much as he should. You were his Amica Endura, his dearest friend, and you somehow liked him enough that all the baggage was worth it. With one of your tiny hands on each of his clawtips, he finished the ceremony. Each word felt light as a feather when he spoke it. "As you are to me, may I be to you—today, tomorrow, and always."

"Today, tomorrow, and always." You echo, meaning it with everything you are. There's no grand finale, but the emotion in his optic and quivering antenna is more impressive than any supernova. He doesn't seem to want to pull his claws away as he shifts his chest plating back into position, and you're happy to oblige, keeping a solid hold on his claws as if your tiny body is his lifeline.

"You didn't say no." He says as the glow of his spark disappears. It's a tone for a statement but he obviously wants it to be a question, and he only keeps it from being one because he's still too overwhelmed to ask that many yet.

You can't help but sniffle as you try to sound confident. "Of course I didn't."

"We're still friends." He says softly, closing his claws together so incredibly gently around your hands, letting the two of you be a little more connected as he marvels at his luck. Of all the squishies in the galaxy, this trip had led him to you, the one who made him happier than anything. Despite all sense you loved him, and he loves you back, and the two of you would get to keep on adventuring after this. You smile as you repeat your vow to make your dedication clear.

"Today, tomorrow, and always."

Those words strike a tender chord in his still sensitive spark, for you to believe them so confidently you'll repeat them with ease, and he's promoted to react on a whim.

"Can we hug?"

"Hug?"

"Is there an ech-" The rapid fire reflex of a joke fades out in the face of his genuine and unheard of desire for a bit of tender contact. Releasing your hands, he opens his arms to make his point clear, and is delighted when you start nodding even before he's done asking. "Yes, if you don't mind... okay? Okay."

It's more of a hug for you than him, your arms wrapping around his neck as you nuzzle against his helm to show affection, feeling him wrap as much of his gangly frame around you as possible without risking any kind of damage. While this may not be the first time he's initiated something like this, it's one of very few rare occasions, and thus you know this is special. You can feel how badly he wants the comfort through the ease he shows at your touch.

"You want to stay like this for a bit?" You ask gingerly, getting settled so you can stay comfortable for a few minutes cuddled up to him.

"Mhmm." He says softly, admitting to himself that hugs might actually be worth the fuss after all. Tiny hands reassuringly pat his shoulder, encouraging him to stay in place while he basks in this single perfect moment. He hadn't dared to hope you'd still be friends after this, but here you were, your little body holding and comforting him as if he wasn't several times your size. Funny thing, that fate, eh?

"Take your time."

"Y/N?" He whispers softly into the quiet, wanting to say one final thing before taking a few minutes to enjoy your company.

"Hm?"

There's a tiny pause before he holds you close with one final statement.

"Thanks."

[mooncustafer]

Recover, Regroup, Roadtrip

Agent Dale Cooper disappeared in March 1989. The case is still open. Agent Dale Cooper disappeared in October 2016. The case is still open.

for @laughingpinecone  /

/ @countdowntotwinpeaks​‘ WONDERFULXSTRANGE 2021

“Diane, I am uncertain of the date and time, or indeed if such concepts have any meaning in this place. Nor do I have my recorder, but I find verbalizing my thoughts helps me to resist the confusion and lethargy. As for addressing my words to you, even though you’ll never hear them— well, old habits die hard.”

It pleased Wally Brando on a profound level to discover that a few pay-phones remained in Philadelphia, that reaching out was not yet the prerogative only of those who could afford a landline or a mobile. He could also have checked his email on a terminal at one of the city’s Public Libraries, and indeed, made a note to do so within the day so that he might catch up on the news of parents and former school friends. The pay phone was also blessed with both the yellow and the white pages, and the number he sought appeared under “F.” Getting transferred to Dr. Albert Rosenfield was a more complex quest, but he was persistent as well as polite, and after a few minutes he was able to speak to Dr. Rosenfield’s voice mail, if not the man himself.

He introduced himself with salutations, and was about the explain the nature of his request when a beep signalled that the allotted time had run out.

“To listen to your message, press one. To re-record your message, press two,” said the voice of the machine.

Silently cursing his volubility, Wally pressed two. This time he simplified the introduction, and asked if Dr. Rosenfield would be good enough to meet him that evening at the Morimoto Japanese restaurant not far from the FBI offices, to discuss a matter of deep concern connected, he believed, with the little town of Twin Peaks. When the beep came this time, he listened to his message and then, satisfied, hung up. The restaurant he’d named was slightly above his means, but he was meeting a friend of his godfather, and wanted to do justice to the occasion, even if the reason for it was one of peculiar anxiety to himself.

“Diane, I have tried so many times to escape— on the last attempt I really did get out into the world, but my plans, I fear, had dire repercussions for you, and to no end— my course still led me back to the Black Lodge. Some flaw in my own nature keeps trapping me in this loop; perhaps it’s what they sometimes call Saṃsāra.”

It was Agent Tammy Preston’s custom, when scraping the internet for information relevant to one or more recent cases, to check her email inbox every seven minutes— to do so every five minutes would disrupt the flow of her work, but ten-minute gaps might let something important go unanswered for too long. Just now the inbox was due another glance, and switching tabs she saw that two minutes earlier Director Bryson had replied to Tammy’s email of that morning with an invitation to come by her desk at her earliest possible convenience.

Tammy locked her screen, paused ‘Soft Fuzzy Man’ on her playlist and removed her headphones. Picking up the folder marked Missing Persons, 1989– Palmer, she slipped back into her pumps and made for Bryson’s office. The door was open but Tammy stopped at the threshold and rapped on the wall.

“Come in,” said Director Bryson, looking up from a folder. Bossa nova music played softly in the background as Tammy entered and pulled up a chair. It sometimes puzzled Tammy that apart from herself and Director Gordon Cole, no one in this particular division of the FBI seemed to have any interest in music recorded after 1979. (The first few times she’d heard ‘Du Hast’ pounding through the walls of Cole’s office, she’d wondered if this taste for metal was the result, or perhaps the cause, of his hearing loss; but after he’d joked to an unamused Agent Rosenfield about how these were difficult times and difficult times called for Dave Brubeck, she’d looked up the reference in case it was a coded message, and then the next day had overheard Gordon whistling ‘Mister Sandman,’ a song she knew primarily from an internet meme, at which point she concluded that the ear wants what it wants, regardless of demographic.)

“You told me you’d found some serious inconsistencies in the records surrounding Twin Peaks and the Palmer case?”

Tammy nodded, hesitated:

“I believe there may be inconsistencies as well in my own perceptions of the case.”

“Well now, that I find a little harder to believe.” Bryson smiled, but then her voice grew serious: “I’ve looked over the notes you made, and it confirms my own doubts about events.”

“Worse yet— the fact that I truly left the Lodge and then returned to it, will enable the beings that inhabit this place to take another twenty-five year turn in my likeness, unleashing even more evil on the world. The only thing stalling them is the doppelgänger I had MIKE make for the Jones family, but I don’t know if he’s still under the White Lodge’s protection.”

After all these months it still surprised Harry Truman there was so little physical pain, and so much boredom, to dying. Oh there’d been pain at the beginning, when he’d started treatment and had had to stop drinking; the memory of detoxing still made him shudder. But now he only felt a tiredness too huge for sleep to make any dent in it; and since he couldn’t sleep all the time, there were a great many hours during which all he could do was lie in the hospice bed or sit in one of the hospice chairs, and think.

At this point dying didn’t even sound so bad— it wasn’t like the past three decades had been all that great. He imagined going to sleep, just filling up a big bowl of silence and darkness and sinking into it, and then he felt bad for thinking that because Frank had already lost enough people without Harry lighting out too. Anyways, with the things he’d seen over the years he’d be a damn fool to think there was anything peaceful about death and whatever came after. So he’d lie awake trying to find some other topic to ponder, and that’s generally when the boredom set in.

Right now, courtesy of the nap he’d had in the afternoon after today’s treatment had left him especially exhausted, he was lying awake in the wee small hours. 3:52 am, said the clock on his bedside table beside the stack of paperbacks Frank had brought him on his visits— Harry wasn’t afraid of e-readers the way Lucy was of cellular phones, but he found the smell of paper comforting. It reminded him of the Bookhouse. The hospice tended to smell of disinfectants and sweat and soup. The food actually wasn’t as bad as the food at the hospital in Twin Peaks used to be, not that any food could be as bad as the hospital food in Twin Peaks used to be, but it made no difference to Harry, whose appetite had been gone for months. Frank always brought a slice of Norma’s pie too, carefully sealed in an old cookie tin to keep it fresh, but Harry could never manage more than a couple of bites, and they didn’t always stay down.

Being awake in the middle of the night in a hospice wasn’t as bad as being awake in the middle of the night when you were alone at home— the occasional voices or footsteps from the corridors beyond were reminders that whatever might be happening to Harry, life went on for the staff; and the lights from the city outside showed that life went on for others outside the hospice walls. When he’d first arrived, those city lights had made it hard to sleep, but now they substituted for the starry sky above Twin Peaks. There were fewer birds to watch in the city, though sparrows, pigeons or a starling sometimes lit on the ledge outside his window and peered in at him, or maybe at their own reflections. The frequent rain pattering against the glass— well, that sounded the same here as it did in a cabin.

Frank had called to tell him about Margaret Lanterman. Harry sometimes wondered if he should have stayed in Twin Peaks and died in his own home like her, instead of lingering in this hospice like the doomed heroine of some nineteenth-century novel. Or like Annie Blackburn. Or Audrey Horne.

The rain was spattering now against Harry’s window, bending the light from the Japanese stone lantern in the pocket-sized garden below. Harry couldn’t remember what the hospice building looked like from the outside, but he guessed it was similar in style to the mid-century one next door where the day-patients came for their treatments. A flash silhouetted the roofline; five seconds later came the thunder-crack. Harry settled back and closed his eyes.

Sleep pulled him into dreams of an espresso machine, like the one in the coffee place down in the lobby next to the gift shop for visitors. This machine filled a whole room, metal pipes feeding back on themselves like some kind of espressouroboros, neither steam nor coffee escaping from the grotesque contraption. Agent Cooper stood wearily before it with two empty coffee-cups. Harry was just wondering who the second cup was for, when Coop looked up and met his eyes:

“What year is this?!”

Harry sat up in bed, listened intently for two full minutes, but he didn’t hear Coop’s voice again. He sighed. Sometimes the mind pulls imaginary sounds out of the background noise. False pattern recognition or something— Coop would have known a word for it. Harry had little hope left they’d ever find Cooper, or if they did, that he’d still be the man he’d known. Yet he’d carried on, more (he told himself) out of habit than any real hope. He’d kept in touch with Agent Rosenfield, even when it meant letting him know about the cancer— not that Albert would blab the secret to anyone in Twin Peaks.

“Hello?”

“Good, you’re still alive.” Albert’s personality hadn’t mellowed with the years, exactly, but familiarity had worn the edges off his jibes.

“Shut up, Albert. So what have you found?” Albert’s calls generally came every three months, but never at nine in the morning, and he’d last spoken to Harry only two weeks back. Something important must have happened.

“Actually, Sheriff Truman, I’m the one coming to you for information.”

“If you hadn’t noticed, it’s not easy to do investigations from a hospital bed. What can I tell you that you can’t get from other sources?”

“I need you to summarize the Laura Palmer case back in 1989, and the actions of Agent Cooper in Twin Peaks at that time.”

“Albert, is this one of your damn cognitive tests? You already know—”

“We’re both too tired to argue, just humor me.”

“How detailed do you want?”

“An outline will suffice.”

Harry took a deep breath and briefly listed the finding of Laura’s body, and the living but dazed and injured Ronnette, and the arrival of Agent Dale Cooper to lead the investigation. He skimmed over the crimes of Jacques Reneault and some of the other peripheral drama that had occurred in the town around that time, noted that Leland Palmer had murdered his own daughter, albeit while not fully himself, and was beginning to recount Cooper’s temporary suspension and Windom Earle’s campaign of terror, when Albert interrupted:

“You’ve still got the unofficial version, then.”

“Unofficial?”

“According to FBI records and your colleagues at the Twin Peaks Sheriff’s Office, Laura Palmer is an unsolved missing-person case.”

Harry began to feel sick.

“Goddammit, Albert, you did the autopsy. I punched you and you fell across her body. You found a broken poker chip in her stomach—” Albert broke in:

“I hadn’t disclosed that detail to anybody I’ve questioned about this.” His voice was a little shaky. “Listen, Harry,” he continued. “Last Friday I was contacted by a young man wearing motorcycle leathers and talking like Jack Kerouac on quaaludes.”

“Wally.”

“Naturally I supposed him to be from your iodine-deficient neck of the woods even before he introduced himself as your godson and the offspring of those lieutenants of yours. He told me he’d come because he wasn’t sure where else to turn. Apparently he keeps in touch with his parents as he rides across the continent, but in their most recent conversation he’d noticed their memories of certain events had become confused. I was about to tell him I wasn’t the least bit surprised, when he added that he’d checked with other townsfolk, including your brother, and they all seemed to have had the same— how’d he put it? ‘The walls of their memory painted over like a childhood bedroom converted to a study.’”

”That sounds like Wally, all right.”

”Eventually he got round to explaining why he’d come to me. The message that had prompted him to call home was from Lucy; she said she’d shot a suspect who was attacking your brother Frank. She’d also mentioned some FBI agents arriving a few minutes later.”

Harry swallowed. He tried to imagine Lucy shooting anyone:

“Frank never said anything about this.”

“And when Wally called home, Andy and Lucy not only denied it had happened, they had no idea what he was talking about, not that I’d guess that to be an unusual state of affairs. Anyway, after I sent your godson away, I began to have contradictory memories myself of what Cooper had told me about the case. I remembered the poker chip after waking in the middle of the night from the worst dreams I’d had since medical school. I’ve been telling myself it was a false memory, maybe a composite of all the young female murder victims I’ve had to examine in my career, but I told myself I’d make one more phone call, just to check. And now you confirm it. Also, in my recall you knocked me across Leo Johnson’s body. Thanks for the correction. Are you still there?”

“Yes,” Harry answered, glad he was already sitting on his bed.

“Now that that’s established,” said Albert’s voice on the other end of the phone: “here’s the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question: when do you remember Agent Cooper disappearing?”

“March 1989.” Harry tried to keep his voice steady, as though he was giving evidence in court. He briefly explained about the Black Lodge and Coop’s reappearance and unsettling behaviour and how he’d checked himself out of the hospital and was never heard from again. There was a long silence on the other end of the phone. “Are you still there, Albert?”

“According to FBI records and, up until two days ago, my own memories: Coop disappeared this past October while driving to Odessa, Texas for a case. The last record of him was a credit-card charge at a motel just outside the city.”

“What was he investigating in Odessa?”

“Missing person. I’ve tried looking into that case, but it seems to be a dead end, especially since Coop never seems to have arrived at the diner where the man he was looking for had allegedly been running drugs.”

“Sounds like the kind of establishment where nobody’d admit anything. Maybe Coop did get to the diner.”

“Gee, you’ve cracked it Sheriff, we would never have thought of that. The diner was old-school, but not so old-school they didn’t have a security camera trained on the front counter. We went over three days worth of footage. I admit we can’t be sure he didn’t slip in through the back for some reason; but you knew Coop— can you honestly picture him entering a diner and not ordering a coffee?”

“Not the Coop I knew, but— I already told you he was acting pretty erratically just before he took off.”

Harry heard Albert sigh.

“I’ve been checking with a few of my colleagues who were involved in the original Palmer investigation. I think Gordon knows something, but being Gordon he’s saying nothing, and as loudly as possible. Denise— Director Bryson, now— remembers the unofficial version, and according to her so does Agent Preston— oh right, you never met Agent Tammy Preston, the poker-faced glamazon computer hacker— I’m not sure she was even born yet in 1989, but she was on a case in Twin Peaks in October 2016, and during the course of the subsequent paperwork, she started noticing a lot of records and statements didn’t match up, and then she realized her own memories didn’t match up. Which brings up another problem with trying to reason this out by conventional methods: something in that Salem’s Pacific-Northwest Lot of yours is rewriting memories, documents, maybe the facts themselves. But so far it’s predominantly affected the people who were on the spot this past October.” Albert’s voice rasped a little from the long phone call, and he paused to clear his throat. “Unfortunately, that also means the people most likely to remember the original version of events are people who weren’t in the Sheriff’s Office during the incident that seems to have triggered the change. At the risk of sounding like one of those bullshit shows on the History Channel, we may never know exactly what happened that night.”

“Wait, what even was the case that brought you all back in 2016?”

“That’s the problem— I’m one of the people who was there, and I only have vague and disconnected memories of a British man with a gardening glove, the chorus of Guys and Dolls, Agent Cooper leaving the room with Diane, his secretary who quit the FBI decades ago, and Gordon, and only Gordon coming back.” Albert paused again. “It goes against my personal feelings and medical opinions, but would you be willing to let me visit you in person? I’ve some vacation time and enough frequent-flyer miles that the trip will probably cost less than the long-distance charges if we continue this conversation.”

Harry opened the drawer of his bedside table and took out the key to Coop’s old hotel room:

“Yeah, come by.”

“Diane, I am currently alone. I realize that statement implies that I’m not always alone here, and indeed I sometimes have a companion, who I still think of as Laura Palmer, though I don’t know if that’s her identity anymore; I’d hoped, after my last attempt, that Laura would no longer be in this place at all. She comes and goes, or perhaps we both come and go and our orbits occasionally intersect. I’ve tried to find some pattern to it, but with no reliable way to measure time, I’ve had little success.

The last time we met she told me about a room she hadn’t seen before, all white walls, in which a dark-haired woman was contemplating a mirror with a puzzled look. I can’t help but feel this parallels my own situation.”

“Frank sent me this last month. But when I thanked him the next time he called, he didn’t seem to know what I was talking about.” Albert hesitated before taking the room key:

“Great Northern Hotel,” he read, turning it over. “Twin Peaks. Isn’t the front desk going to want this back?”

“Unless I miss my guess, it’s from 1989 when Coop was staying there.”

Albert’s ears stuck out more noticeably, or perhaps it was his face that was thinner. He’d spent the first part of his visit scrutinizing Harry and questioning him about his case and what the doctors were doing for it, until Harry told him to quit it or he’d run out of time to discuss Coop’s disappearance before visiting hours ended, and anyway weren’t Albert’s patients usually dead to begin with?

The trouble with the subsequent discussion was that it went in a circle— the people who’d been present for the 2016 Unknown Event had uncertain memories of what had actually happened; and the people who clearly recalled the 1989 Palmer case as a murder hadn’t been present for the Unknown Event. The one thing that seemed likely was that there was some connection between the 1989 case and the 2016 case, particularly since both had been followed by the unsolved disappearance of one Agent Dale Cooper.

“I hate to say it, Albert, but I’ve given up hope on ever finding Coop.”

“What’s hope got to do with it?” Albert asked. His tone was not sarcastic.

“Diane, I’ve decided that, if only to keep my mind occupied, I will go looking for the white room and the woman with the mirror. I’d feel happier if I had a ball of twine or some breadcrumbs to leave as a trail back to the waiting room, but I’m coming to terms with the idea that’s there’s no advantage to remaining or returning here— it’s not as if I need food or drink in this place, and I cannot be any more lost than I already am.

So far, I believe I’ve walked down five identical red-curtained hallways, and turned left five times. It therefore seems likely that I’m following a counterclockwise, roughly spiral path, although I’m uncertain if I’m proceeding inwards or outwards.”

“If this search is going to require juggling two sets of memories, then I’d better come along so you don’t get brainwashed again.”

“Sheriff Truman, if you haven’t noticed by now, you’re in a cancer hospice.”

“I just finished a round of treatments, I’ve got a couple of weeks free.” Albert snorted and Harry added: “You can monitor my health while we’re on the road.”

“I’m already thinking of your health. You’re immunocompromised, travel is too risky.”

“We’re crossing a few state lines, not going to the other side of the world.”

Albert pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Fine. I’m driving. Which also means I get to choose the music.”

In fact, they went most of the way by plane, after Albert weighed the odds and decided five hours in a tube of recycled air would still be easier on Harry than a two-day road trip. Some of the passengers threw suspicious looks at Harry’s N95 mask, but they’d cleared it in advance with the airline, and Harry had briefly removed it when he went through TSA, and Albert was prepared to flash his FBI badge, but the flight crew were understanding.

They picked up a car at Midland International. Someone, presumably an employee of the car-rental company, had left a bundle of tourist-attraction pamphlets on the front passenger seat.

“According to these, Odessa has replicas of the Globe Theatre and Stonehenge,” Harry observed once he’d got himself settled.

“Why?” Albert asked.

“Got me there. The pamphlets don’t explain the motivation.”

Albert reached up and pulled down the car’s sunshade on Harry’s side, though the Sheriff insisted his cowboy hat was protection enough for his pale scalp:

“We’re not in the northwest where it rains every fifteen minutes,” he muttered, “and I’ve been looking up the side effects of your meds— you sunburn easily now.” Albert’s driving skirted the city, and they did not pass the Globe or Stonehenge.

The Pearblossom Motel, last recorded location of Agent Cooper, proved to be closed down. They’d noticed the papered-over windows as they pulled up, the sign unlit, not even to say NO VACANCY, but Albert got out to knock anyway. Harry watched him from the car; eventually he clambered out and slowly walked over to join him.

Albert was peering through a spot where the paper had torn away behind the window-glass. He stepped aside for Harry, and the sheriff took a look into the motel’s dim interior. He saw an ordinary, rather old-fashioned registration office, wood-grain panelling on the walls along with a few faded posters for local attractions. Rows of keys still hung on a board behind the desk, and a daily calendar read October 15, presumably the date the motel had closed, or the approximate date— Harry could imagine a concierge might not bother to keep tearing off the pages if they knew it was their last week on the job.

“I now realize that despite everything, I’ve still been harbouring hopes of finding my way back to the waiting room, hence my continual choosing of left-hand turns, as if attempting to mathematically navigate a maze. I must make a true leap of faith if intuition is to guide me, so I’ve closed my eyes and spun around several times in this corridor, first clockwise and then counterclockwise.

Now that I no longer can tell which direction I’ve come from… Diane, can you hear that? Of course you can’t, I don’t really have my tape recorder. I’m going to fall silent and listen for a bit.”

There seemed little else of interest at the motel (Harry, feeling a bit silly, had even tried the Great Northern’s room key on all the doors), so they turned back towards Odessa to look for the diner Cooper had been investigating. The motel was only a mile behind when they saw, ahead of them, a tall woman walking along the highway, her fire-engine-red hair, black t-shirt and pencil skirt out of place in a locale that was rural to the point of emptiness. Albert swore under his breath.

“This can’t be a coincidence,” he told Harry. “Roll down your window, I’m pulling over.” But the woman only threw a glance at the car as it slowed, flipped them the bird, and kept walking, though she stepped gingerly and Harry noticed she was barefoot on the asphalt. Albert leant across him and stuck his head out the window:

“Diane!”

“Fuck off, guys. I’m not Diane, and whoever she is I bet she’d tell you the same.” Harry gently pushed Albert back and leant out the window himself:

“Sorry, ma’am, mistaken identity. Are you all right though? I see you’ve mislaid your shoes.”

“Looks like somebody ran off with them,” the woman answered, her tone mocking despite the tired set of her shoulders. “I haven’t been up to anything illegal, officer. Just a bit of fooling around.”

“We can give you a ride into town,” Harry offered. “If it helps, you’ll be alone in the back seat— means you can get the drop on us if you start to feel nervous.”

The woman narrowed her eyes at the offer, then abruptly barked out a laugh and opened the back door of the car, took a seat and folded her long legs in after her. “Only because I need a lift,” she insisted, rubbing her bare feet. “I knew office romances were a bad idea, but he didn’t have to be a dick about it. Nothing to do now but go home and drown my sorrows in Hallowe’en candy.”

“You’ve still got candy left over from Hallowe’en?” In the mirror above the dashboard, Harry saw Albert raise an eyebrow and the woman in the back seat frowned, insulted:

“No! I may not have a maternal bone in my body, but I’m not going to give the trick-or-treaters candy that’s a year old.”

“Ma’am,” Harry asked, thinking about the calendar back in the Pearblossom Motel office, “what date d’you think it is?”

“Mid-October,” she began. Harry saw her reach into her purse with her black-and-white nails and pull out a mobile phone. Her eyes widened at the date: “No, it’s March. The fuck?—” She ran a hand through her scarlet hair. Harry wondered if it was dyed or a wig. Perhaps she was bald too. “Must be losing it. I was so sure it was October. And it’s not like I’ve could’ve been wandering around this desert for five months.” She tapped her phone screen. “5,230 messages?!” She looked frightened now, raising her head to meet their gaze in the mirror. “Where the hell have I been? And you guys— you’re feds, aren’t you?”

“No,” Harry began.

“I am,” said Albert. “He’s not.”

“Well, can you tell me what’s going on? Or is it classified? God, it’s not aliens, is it? I always assumed alien conspiracies were bullshit to cover up real conspiracies.”

“It’s probably not aliens,” Harry answered, unable to keep doubt from his voice as he remembered Major Briggs, “but I afraid it’s not going to sound any less weird.”

“To start with, we’re in the area investigating a colleague who disappeared in October,” began Albert, “and then you turn up, apparently amnesiac since that date.”

“And with my messages unchecked since then.”

“Yes, but there’s another detail— you look exactly like a former colleague of mine who was close to our missing man. That’s why I called you Diane when I slowed down.”

“I need a smoke.”

“No.”

“Albert,” Harry interrupted, “I’ve already got cancer, what’s the worst that can happen?”

“Do you want me to answer that in detail?”

“No I don’t.” Harry turned to look over his shoulder at the woman in the back: “Just roll down your window first.”

“We’ll pull over and she can step away from the car,” said Albert.

He stopped on a shoulder, and their passenger got out and lit a cigarette. Examining the packet, she called to them:

“Three left. That’s fewer than I remember having on me in October, but not by much.” Albert, meanwhile, had pulled a shopping bag from the back seat:

“You should eat something,” he said to Harry, producing a sealed cup of applesauce and a box of plastic spoons. Between rounds of treatment, Harry’s nausea receded, but his appetite was still pretty weak. “There’s saltine crackers, too.” Harry chuckled in spite of himself as he tore the foil off the applesauce:

“This all makes me feel like I’m home from school with the ‘flu.”

“You’ll have to watch Roadrunner cartoons on your own phone, I’m not paying for the data,” Albert snapped.

“I’m surprised we even get reception out here.” The red-haired woman had strolled back to the car with her cigarette, though she took care to stay downwind from Harry’s rolled-down window. “Guys, is it just me or is this highway really deserted— like, Rod-Serling-voiceover deserted?”

“We were just thinking Roadrunner cartoons.”

“Can’t be, there’s no weird rocks.” She flicked ash onto the pavement, “Though it does feel like if someone painted a tunnel entrance on a wall around here, you might be able to drive into it. If you weren’t a coyote.” She took another drag and glanced at the power lines humming above their heads. “Maybe it’s the hum from those wires that’s giving us brain cancer— oh sorry, dude.” She broke off and looked at Harry in apology.

“It’s all right, ma’am,” he said when he’d finished swallowing his mouthful of applesauce. “I’ve got leukaemia, not brain cancer. And the sound from those lines is unpleasant. Like the whine of mosquitoes in the woods.” As he spoke the hum intensified, becoming a loud crackle. Albert glanced up as a shadow fell over the three travellers and their car.

In the sky a dark, nebulous shape twisted, circled, formed a comma or an apostrophe, and dove towards them.

The first few grackles, out of thousands, came down on the roof and hood of the car. Harry could see one pecking at the windscreen and glaring at him with hard yellow eyes. He suddenly remembered Coop had been afraid of birds; until now, he’d never been able to imagine why. He turned and pushed open the back door as the woman dove inside the vehicle. Around them, the flock blotted out the landscape.

“Hope they don’t scratch up the finish,” Albert shouted over the sound of wing-beats, “or I’m not getting my deposit back.”

“Is this nesting season? I mean, are the grackles round here normally this—”

“Oh fuck, one got in!” came a yell from the back seat. Eardrums ringing, Harry turned to see a small black shape ricocheting around the car’s interior as the woman flailed her long, bare arms. The grackle made for the gap between Albert’s seat and headrest.

And got stuck, its beak not quite touching the back of Albert’s neck.

Harry reached for the little feathered body, thinking of how to pin the wings against the bird’s sides to avoid injury to it or the surrounding humans, but the moment his fingers touched it, it crumbled. At the same time the din outside the car ceased.

“That— that’s not natural.” Their passenger was covering her mouth with her hand. Even Albert looked shocked. Harry stared at the palmful of ash that was all that was left of the grackle.

“Let me get a sample bag,” Albert muttered. He pulled out a small clear plastic bag, and held it out while Harry poured the remains in. Then he handed him a packet of wet wipes. “You all right, Diane?” The woman in the back seat did not correct him on the name this time.

“Couple of scratches,” she said, examining her right arm. Albert passed her a mini first-aid kit. Got to give him his dues, he prepares for everything, thought Harry, adjusting the brim of his cowboy hat.

“Y’know,” he said, “This could be a good sign. In that it’s any kind of sign. There’s nothing worse than working in the dark, waiting for some hint you’re getting warmer or colder— that’s the kind of thing makes you wonder if the thing you’re looking for is even out there at all. But this—”

“Someone tipped their hand, you mean, when they tried throwing a Hitchcock movie in our faces,” Albert cut in. “But what exactly did we do to worry them?” His glance, and Harry’s, moved to the dashboard mirror’s reflection of their passenger.

“You think the birds were after me, or wanted to break up our merry band?” She raised an eyebrow. “Trouble is I know a token effort when I see one.”

“Or a warning.”

“We found the Pearblossom Motel;” Harry thought he saw the woman flinch at the name. “And then left it, to head for Odessa.”

“Are you suggesting we drive around in circles and see if they attack again?” Albert muttered.

“I think that’d be a little unfair to our passenger.” Harry turned to her: “Ma’am, I believe Albert when he says he knows you; but I also believe you when you say you don’t remember him. We can drop you anywhere you like— your call.”

“Give me a few minutes, fellas. Given all the weird shit I’ve just been through, I’ve got to think about whether I’m safer away from you two, or sticking close by. Plus I’ve got messages to check.” She took her phone out again. Without taking his eyes off the road, Albert pulled his own phone from his suit jacket, passing it to Harry:

“You’d better check mine. Maybe Tammy’s got some news—she’s been looking up everyone connected with events in Twin Peaks, but not living in the area. She even emailed some couple in Japan, though I’m still not sure what they’ve got to do with this.”

Harry peered at Albert’s phone screen, occasionally commenting if something looked to be of interest:

“Gordon’s sent a grudging OK, tells you to be careful. Also tells you to look after me. I’d always imagined he’d type in uppercase— didn’t realize it was him at first. Hm. Do you know a coroner?”

“I know lots of coroners, we get together for an annual poker tournament and lucky draw. And when I say draw…”

“Do you know a Dr. Talbot in Buckhorn?” Harry interrupted. “Autopsied a headless body last September that turned out to be Major— wait, he— is this one of those revised timeline things?”

“Not exactly.” Albert brought Harry up to date as best he could on Major Briggs’ disappearance and decades-later reappearance. “I certainly remember meeting Constance,” he added, after a pause, and cleared his throat again. “According to Tammy, I made a favourable impression on her, which is… unusual among my acquaintances, even those who share my profession. So what does she have to say?”

“Something about a wedding ring and Schrödinger’s Cat?” Harry looked at the message again. “She says Tammy spoke to her, and was going to contact you too… a gold ring they found on Briggs… sorry, in Briggs… keeps disappearing from her office’s records and the FBI’s evidence files, then coming back again?”

Albert frowned in thought as he drove: “Does it have anything engraved on it?” Harry tapped a message on the phone screen, CC-ing Constance and Tammy.

Outside the car, suburbs, or at least car dealerships and big-box stores, were beginning to sprout up along the highway.

Albert’s phone pinged and Harry read the message from Constance:

“Yes, scribbled it down last time I could find the record. This ring any (wedding) bells? TO DOUGIE, WITH LOVE, JANEY-E”

“Janey-E,” said Diane from the back seat, and Harry heard her drop her phone. Turning around he saw her wringing her hands, the nails now robin’s-egg blue. “Albert,” she gasped, “Oh, Albert, I was almost lost again.”

“I believe the change in method may have led to a breakthrough: I haven’t found any rooms leading off of the corridor I’m following, but the decor has gradually changed from black-and-white flooring and red curtains, to dark brown linoleum flooring and institutional green walls hung with large relief maps of different parts of the world. The maps appear to have been manufactured some time between 1954 and 1965, as they show North and South Vietnam as separate nations. I’m just passing the continent of Antarctica, now, and… oh. I think there might be…

Diane, I found the white room, and when I call it that, I’m not simply echoing Laura’s name for it. It was like a cross between a sanatorium and a snow cave, if a snow cave had furniture. There was a bed with white blankets and a white metal frame like a hospital bed. Audrey was sitting on one end of it, wrapped in a white bathrobe and looking at a round mirror that stood on a little white table. She turned as I entered, and her face was older, drawn and, for a moment, frightened. Then she looked at me again and relaxed, saying ‘Oh, it’s really you.’ I fear she must have met one of my nastier doppelgängers at some point.”

At Diane’s request, they stopped to eat at a fast-food chain before approaching the diner Coop had been investigating in at least one timeline.

“I’m hungry, but I’d be too nervous to eat at the place where Dale might have… well, if they’re a front for something, then the food’s either spectacular or terrible, and I’m not feeling lucky right now. I want to be someplace as bland and mundane as possible for a while, so I can regroup.”

“Well this place has a twenty-minute limit.” Albert jerked his thumb at the sign.

“That’ll do.” Diane curled up beside Harry in the booth as Albert went up to the counter to place their orders. She still wore her pencil skirt, but on on of their stops she’d purchased tennis shoes and a couple of fresh t-shirts— the one she was wearing at the moment read NOT TODAY in flowery letters. “Now he’s got two of us to worry about,” she said under her breath. Harry decided to reply:

“Someone needs to worry about him.” Diane nodded, and Harry offered his hand: “Sorry, we never did the proper introductions did we? Harry S. Truman.”

“I know.” Her expression relaxed slightly. “I see why he likes you.”

“Not sure Albert likes anybody, exactly—”

“That’s not who I was talking about.”

Albert returned with a eye-searingly-orange plastic tray:

“Mushroom burger, cheeseburger, buttered biscuit for you, Harry, because they can’t just serve toast like a real restaurant and those things they claim are bagels are made out of lies.”

“Don’t worry Albert, I’ll survive a biscuit.” Harry picked up one half of the baked item and took a bite. It wasn’t too bad, actually.

“Diane, the ring that jogged your memory—”

“My half-sister and her husband. Don’t ask me how they’d be mixed up in this though, Janey-E’s aggressively normal.”

“And her husband?”

“Never actually met him. Janey-E and I don’t talk much,” she explained. “But from her comments he’s… passively normal. Works for an insurance company, drinks too much sometimes, the whole man-in-the-gray-flannel-suit thing.”

“I’ve been talking with Audrey, or the version of her that existed in the white room. You’ll notice I use the past tense. Still sitting on the bed, she raised a finger and pointed to the mirror in front of her, saying:

‘The other me— she ran away from home, like she thought Laura had done. I’m amazed she survived her first year in the big city, but look:’

Diane, I saw Audrey searching records online, tailing suspects, testifying in civil and sometimes criminal courts. It’s a life that can make a cynic of the kindest soul, but there are situations the police don’t or can’t investigate, and those were— are, I suppose— Audrey’s bread and butter, in that mirror world. And they seem to pay well enough she can afford to do some pro bono cases.

‘I wish I were out there,’ she said, and the mirror clouded and shifted. She  patted the bedspread, and I sat down beside her. ‘You know how,’ she began, ‘when you’re a kid, and you’re reading your favourite book, and a little after the halfway point, you start to think ‘I’m getting near the end of the book?’ And really, you’re not— there are pages and pages left of scenes and pictures. You’re always surprised just how much more there is. But it’s not enough to shake the feeling it’s putting off the inevitable. Dawdling before bedtime.’ She stood up suddenly, bent and kissed me on the brow. ‘Say hello to the other me, if you ever run into her.’ And then she was gone, Diane. Not in flame or fadeout, just gone.”

I look up, and Laura is beside me.

The diner, when they found it, was not what Harry’d pictured. Instead of a lonely Edward Hopper tableau, or a grimy spoon where toughs whispered to each other along the lunch counter and cast knowing glances in the direction of the men’s room, “Wispy Dreams Cafe” was a blandly cheerful donut shop, the logo rather obviously altered from that of a national chain.

“Looks like they’re under new management.” Diane observed as they got out of the car. “Or else they got tired of paying for the franchise?” The three of them made their way across the parking lot the cafe shared with the landscaping company next door. Inside, the sound of chattering customers and a hum from the coffee machine both soothed and overwhelmed. Harry steadied himself against a gleaming, cream-colored formica counter. The woman on the other side— not a fresh-faced high-school senior or a kindly-faced matron, just a woman with her hair in a ponytail and circles under her eyes, doing her best to smile— threw him a glance and Harry nodded.

“I’m ok. Albert, Diane, what do you two want?”

A couple of minutes later, they sat by the window, feigning interest in their donuts and coffee.

“Well, we’re living the cop cliché,” whispered Albert. “So, what do you think? Soulless suburban hangout, or den of villainy?”

Harry gingerly sipped the brew in his cardboard cup and eyed the other customers. You couldn’t say the place wasn’t busy; the woman at the counter had already served a family of four in the time it had taken Harry, Albert and Diane to seat themselves with their coffees, and another customer had just come in the door.

“That counter’s been installed recently. Deep-fat fryer’s been replaced too.”

“And they don’t know how to use it yet. You could wax skis with these donuts. That’s hardly a crime, though.” Diane looked around at the blue and yellow walls painted with large trompe l’oeil sprinkles. “Doesn’t seem to be anything else funny about the place— I hate to say it but this place might be legit.”

Harry watched the new customer lean in to the counter. Harry couldn’t quite make out what he was saying— presumably the man was placing his order, but it seemed to be taking a while and there was something tense in the woman’s expression. Beside him he heard Diane swear under her breath, and faster than he could turn his head, his peripheral vision took in that she was getting up. She strode towards the counter and Harry had a glimpse of the angry red scratch on her arm as he struggled to his feet.

Diane was leaning on the counter now, trying to insert herself between the customer and the worker.

“What did you just say to her?” she was asking.

“Look, I come in here all the time, we joke around. What makes you think it’s your fucking business?”

“What seems to be the trouble?” Harry loomed up behind the customer— he might have only half his usual strength but he was still a good six inches taller than the other man. Behind him, he guessed, Albert was approaching. Harry knew the agent was unwilling to use physical force and not exactly skilled at defusing situations through diplomacy, so he turned his gaze on the customer with all the quiet confidence he’d used as Sheriff. In his ear Diane hissed:

“It’s nothing to do with the case, this asshole’s just creeping on the staff.” She must’ve locked eyes with the man too, for he was staring at her now, his bland pink features shifting expression from anger to terrified fascination.

Rather an unimpressive face, thought Harry, and then, what’s Diane doing? He turned to look at her sharp, smiling profile, and saw a tear slide from her eye.

“No,” she said loudly and abruptly, and blinked hard. “Do you want us to escort him out?” she asked the woman behind the counter; but the man was already out the door and running for his car.

“Diane,” Harry whispered.

“Diane,” whispered Albert. Diane was passing one hand across her eyes.

“I could have fried him. Just now. Something wanted me to; but I just wanted him to back off.” She beamed at them as Albert held out an arm for her to steady herself. “I think I’m back to normal. Well, normal for me.”

“Are we the only two left here now?”

“I’m not even here anymore.”

“I don’t know how to get back to the waiting room.”

“It doesn’t matter, the coffee’s cold.”

Somehow, the white room has become even more featureless, despite that being both a logical and a grammatical impossibility. Only the bed, the table and Audrey’s mirror remain. A moment in the glass catches my eye, and I look to see— oh Diane, I’m so glad you escaped! I see you travelling with Albert, and… oh, Harry…

…the cafe’s fluorescent lights flickered as the background hum, noticeable since their arrival, now rose to an ear-splitting volume then died away just as suddenly. As the three of them looked on, an old-fashioned hospital bed, its steel frame painted white, materialized between the counter and the booths, replacing two unoccupied tables. At one end of it sat Agent Dale Cooper, fully dressed in his suit and tie, a look on his face of mild surprise that turned to the familiar joy as his gaze met theirs. Coop had grown older like the rest of them, sharper angles in his face, but he looked hale and well, and his eyes did not have the cruel gleam that chilled Harry’s memories of their last meeting.

“Harry,” he said, as though a quarter-century hadn’t passed. In response Harry silently doffed his cowboy hat, revealing his pallor, his naked scalp. Coop’s smiled wavered a little. “I’m sorry I was gone so long,” he whispered, and rose from the white bed. In the background, the cafe staff and patrons continued to chat and serve and drink and eat coffee and donuts as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on right in front of them. Albert made a hesitant noise in his throat and Coop raised his hand in that just a moment gesture he always used to make, and in that moment Harry knew his friend really was back from wherever he’d been all those years.

“Apologies for being brusque,” Coop said, “but there’s a family in Las Vegas who I’ve reason to believe are in danger right now—”

“Janey-E?” Diane asked.

“Right on the button. For personal reasons which I’ll explain later, I can’t get in touch with them myself. The Mitchell brothers might be able to help, but I don’t know how much they’ll be able to recall of our last meeting.”

“Tammy and Constance are already on it.”

“Good,” Coop looked relieved, and Harry stepped forward, shaking a little in spite of himself, and as if the motion had at last given him permission, Coop sailed forward and embraced him— very gently, as if he feared Harry might break. He’s gauging by touch how much weight I’ve lost, thought Harry, but it’s all right. He’d forgotten how warm Coop was. He became aware of Albert and Diane joining in, arms circling his shoulders and Coop’s. If I died right here and now, it’d be all right.

But this embrace was not an epitaph, or an epilogue. Outside, somewhere else in the city, was an imitation of an ancient stone monument; and a copy of an old theatre where real audiences watched real actors. Somewhere the forces that had sent the dark cloud of grackles prepared another attack, and somewhere Tammy Preston was moving to protect Janey-E and Dougie Jones. Elsewhere Audrey Horne walked the mean streets and was not herself mean. This was an interlude, but let them have it for a while.

A couple of patrons turned their heads to smile at the reunion going in their midst.

[kittyprincessofcats]

RWBY Volume 6

So, I pretty much binge-watched this one in a few days because I really needed to know how things go on after Volume 5 and it was just so good! Lots of messy thoughts to come!

[There will be spoilers for RWBY up to Volume 6 in this post (duh). Please don’t leave any spoilers for anything after Volume 6 on this post, or I will block you.]

Thoughts under the cut because this ended up getting a little long.

- The character short for Adam was really cool! It was cool to see how the White Fang began, to see Sienna, Ghira, Ilia and Adam in action, to see the irony of Sienna being a mentor to Adam and encouraging his ways when you know he’ll end up killing her, and to see a glimpse into Adam and Blake’s past relationship (and how the stuff he said to her was textbook emotional abuse). However, I do have one criticism, and it’s something that really bothers me: There’s a continuity mistake with Ilia’s age. Let’s think about this: Ilia was always implied to be the same age (or around the same age) as Blake. In the part of this short where Ghira was still leader of the White Fang, Ilia appears and doesn’t look younger than in canon. But we know Ghira stepped down at least a few years ago. If Blake is meant to be a teenager in volume 1… there’s just no way Ilia could have been there and already been an adult. She’s supposed to have still been a kid when Ghira was leader, unless she’s at least a few years older than Blake – which I don’t think she’s meant to be? Yeah sorry, this kind of stuff just bothers me. I get that timelines can be hard to keep track off, but that was a really obvious mistake and it ruins my immersion a bit.

- I loved the whole opening fight on the train and just seeing team RWBY fighting together again.

- I’ve got to say, I do feel bad for Weiss: After everything she went through to leave Atlas, she now suddenly has to go back there. I mean, that must suck.

- I’m a bit sad they just but Ilia on a bus, but I get that her main conflict is pretty much over and they had to go back to focusing on the main characters’ quest. I still wish we’d have at least gotten a scene of her interacting with the other members of team RWBY, though.

- I really liked Ilia and Blake’s goodbye at the train station, though. (And the whole “wrong tree” moment with Neptune really made me laugh 😂)

- Also just wanted to say I love Ilia’s new outfit (and the fact that she has spots on her belly – this is really important information, okay?)

- There’s a certain irony in the Faunus becoming more accepted because they STOPPED Adam’s attack on Haven.

- I think Jinn and the whole concept of how asking her questions works is super cool.

- I totally get why everyone’s pissed at Ozpin both before, during and after Jinn revealed his and Salem’s backstory. He has been hiding an awful lot from everyone, even after promising not to anymore, and he actively tried to stop the team from finding out the truth. Plus, the whole fact that he doesn’t have a plan for defeating Salem and is potentially risking everyone’s lives for nothing. (That said, can they not take it out on poor Oscar, please? None of this is his fault.)

- Oscar fighting Ozpin from within and telling them how to summon Jinn was a really badass scene. And I feel super bad for Oscar overall. Not only is he kind of at war with someone who lives in his brain now, but he also just found out that he’ll eventually only become a part of Ozma. And on top of that, people are punching and blaming him for stuff that’s not his fault. That’s super harsh.

- I’m kind of glad Cinder’s alive, because as I said, I was hoping they’d develop her more and make her a more interesting villain… but I don’t feel like this volume did that. Right now, she’s still pretty superficial, unfortunately.

- And now, time to get into one of the highlights of this volume for me: Salem’s backstory! Because holy shit, that was one hell of a backstory! When I said back in my post about volume 5 that I hope Cinder’s alive because I would like to see them make her a more interesting villain, I didn’t expect them to do just that, but for Salem. I love villains that are interesting, but I didn’t expect Salem, the literal big bad of the show, to be the interesting one here! I am pleasantly surprised by this, though! (And just to be clear, because some people love to misunderstand this: When I say “interesting”, I don’t mean “She has a sad backstory, this excuses everything she’s doing”, I mean “She has a sad backstory, this makes her more compelling as a villain”.)

- So, about that backstory: Do we all agree that the gods are major jerks, or what? I mean, initially not bringing Ozma back to life was fair, death is a part of life, they can’t upset the balance, I get that – but making him repeatedly disintegrate in Salem’s arms after she just thought she’d gotten him back? And then making her immortal just to make sure she couldn’t be with him? And then killing ALL of humanity just because of the actions of a few? But still not letting Salem die? And then bringing Ozma back after all (because now it suddenly doesn’t ‘disrupt the balance’ or what?) and kind of tricking him into that whole relics task because he wanted to be with Salem? The god are jerks, I rest my case - and I’m not sure if bringing them back is a good idea.

- Also… I get that she’s like… evil and all… but am I the only one who thought Salem got way sexier after jumping into the pools of grimm? Is that just me? Because damn… I’m kinda into that version of her. (Come on, she’s a sexy goth witch and I’m a simple lesbian, what do you expect?)

- So yeah… in an unexpected turn of events, Salem might be one of my favourite characters now? Oops? (*insert obligatory ‘this does not mean I condone her actions in any way’ disclaimer here*)

- I feel super bad for Salem and Ozma’s kids, though. I hate kids getting hurt in media in general. (I imagine the grief over them stayed with Ozma forever. And I like the theory that he gave the original four maidens their powers because they reminded him of his daughters. In general, I don’t consider him to be the bad guy in this backstory at any point. His only mistake is not being honest with the people who are helping and protecting him in the present.)

- I am now convinced that this entire show has to end with Salem and Ozma dying. That’s the only way all of this can end. Salem will have to either be killed somehow or learn the lesson the gods tried to teach her and die. Ozma will have to fulfill his task and die as well – either through Oscar dying with him (😢), through only Ozma dying but Oscar getting to live without him, or through the reincarnation cycle ending and Ozma/Ozpin recognizing that Oscar is going to be his last life. Something like that would be my prediction.

- Speaking of interesting villains: This volume also did a great job with Emerald and Mercury! With those two, I’m actually hoping for a redemption now. (And Hazel is a great guy as well. The fact that he was willing to take the blame for their failure at Haven to protect Emerald and Mercury is something I really respect.)

- I also I want to say I find Tyrion super entertaining.

- It was great to see Neo again! (I’ve gotten so used to Chibi!Neo it was almost weird to see regular Neo again.) Her fight with Cinder was EPIC.

- (I basically feel like this volume did a great job on all villains except for Cinder. But hey, maybe that’ll still happen.)

- This was an interesting volume for Qrow. On the one hand, I get why hearing Oz’s backstory drove him into a sort-of depression and made his drinking habit worse and I feel bad for him, but from the point-of-view of Ruby and the others, it must have also been super frustrating that the one proper adult in the group couldn’t keep it together and everyone else had to keep doing the hard work.

- Maria is a super cool and epic character! I really hope she sticks around with the team for Volume 7 because she’s amazing and I love her. She was super badass in her backstory (that moment where she lost her eyes was painful just to watch), I love the fact that she was Qrow’s hero growing up (and that he based his weapon on hers!), that we finally met another character who has (well, had) silver eyes, and that she’s that funny, cranky, but also wise old lady now who mentors Ruby and is just super funny all around. Good stuff, I hope we see more of her!

- The Apathy are the creepiest grim yet. The whole concept of them draining you of your will to live without you even noticing is just SO scary – I love it, but I’m also low-key terrified. The crew’s trip to that farm estate could have easily gone very wrong. Pretty much nothing but Ruby’s silver eyes even worked on them. I like how those episodes set the whole thing up – Team RWBY having emotional conversations while they were in the house, everyone having doubts (which makes sense at that point in the story, so you don’t really question it at first), and then the sneaking realization of what’s going on. Also, the guy who sealed in those Apathy grim in in the first place was just so dumb. How could you think that was a good idea? Good job getting everyone killed, dude.

- I’m glad this volume gave us more on Ruby’s silver eyes! I like that she finally got to use them before the season finale (though I loved that joke on RWBY Chibi), and I also like that she first used them to protect Blake. (I don’t ship them as much as Bumbleby, but I feel like Ruby and Blake’s ship/friendship is super underrated.) It was also nice to learn more about how the Silver eyes work in general and how they came to be. (If they came from the god of light, I’m assuming all the people with silver eyes are the descendants of Ozma’s past lives? TV Tropes kind of helped me out here: Apparently if you freeze the picture where you see one of his past lives with his kids, you can see the kids have silver eyes.) People with silver eyes being hunted also comes as no surprise to me, that’s kind of what I was assuming already. (Which raises the question: Just how did Summer Rose die?) Also, interesting fact that they only work on the Grimm...

- That moment where they reunite with JNR in Argus was really sweet. I also loved the design of Argus as a whole.

- I LOVE Saphron, Terra, and their son!!! I love that we got to meet one of Jaune’s sisters, I love that we got some more LGBT+ representation, and their baby is adorable!! (I loved that scene of everyone cooing over the baby. Also, that moment where Ruby realized Jaune and Saphron were siblings. Also, that moment where the baby helped them distract the guards by crying.) Basically, I just love the Cotta-Arcs. (Also, I just want to say that Saphron is super pretty.)

- Cordovin and her two goons are hilarious. I mean, I also hate them because they’re overly patriotic Atlas-people and Cordovin was racist to Blake – but they’re also super freaking hilarious. Every little line of Maria and Cordovin’s beef with each other had my dying with laughter 🤣 (mainly it was Maria’s lines that had me dying with laughter).

- That whole scene with the statue of Pyrrha was such a tearjerker 😢. First the leaf, then the sad music, then Jaune talking to that red-haired lady (I’m guessing she’s either Pyrrha’s mom or sister?), and then Ren and Nora joining and giving Jaune a pep-talk 😭 😭. I think this was a really important moment for Jaune, not just to get closure, but also to stop blaming himself and putting himself down. I’m glad Ren and Nora told him they don’t want to lose him too, and that the red-haired lady said she’s “glad Pyrrha was surrounded by such amazing people”. Gosh, now I’m tearing up again writing this 😭. I miss Pyrrha 😭 😭.

- I love Oscar’s new outfit. It was time for him to finally drop the farm boy look.

- I love how Jaune is so down for crime that his plan is just “They only let Atlas airships though, so we steal an Atlas airship.” I mean, makes sense.

- I think their whole plan to steal the airship was super cool and although I get why things can’t be that easy in shows like this (and I love that we got the showdown with Adam), I still kind of wish it had worked just because it was a really cool plan and everyone had their part to play in it. Heck, even the baby got to help (and it was awesome)! But yeah, Adam just had to ruin everything, nothing new there.

- So, about Adam: First of all, he’s a major creep for victim-blaming Blake (again) and stalking her. I like how creepy his behaviour is from a story-telling perspective (and from an angst-loving “I like seeing my faves suffer” perspective), but his story was getting a little old, so I’m not too sad they killed him off now. It was a good point in the story to do it. (That said, holy shit is he a creep! “I wouldn’t have to be doing this if you just behaved”? Wow. I get that he’s meant to be abusive and controlling; that’s the point of his character (and like I said, I’m here for the angst), but… yikes, poor Blake.)

- And then we had Blake and Yang’s rematch with Adam. EPIC STUFF. First of all, I like that Blake was able to hold her own against him for a bit (and same for Yang later). I also love the whole dramatic setting by the waterfall and the fact that Blake lost her coat (this is important, okay? it symbolizes vulnerability – and also it just looks cool), the scar on Blake’s belly (from their fight at Beacon, right?), the face reveal of Adam – I just love how all of this was set up in such an epic, dramatic way. But the most epic moment, at least from the start of the fight, has got to be Yang just jumping down there with her motorcycle hitting Adam and that amazing music. I’ve said before that Yang is just too cool for words and I will stand by that. The fight itself was epic too, though I was so stressed the whole time I couldn’t completely pay attention. Blake and Yang fighting Adam together was definitely the best part, though. And I loved the irony of Yang’s metal arm saving her. In general, I like that Yang and Blake got to fight and defeat (and kill) Adam together because he’s been a demon for both of them, and I like that they clarified they’re doing it as equal partners. “We’re protecting each other” was a nice callback to earlier when Blake tried to reassure Yang she’d protect her, and to even earlier when Yang was protecting Blake at Beacon.

- Let’s talk about my other highlight of the volume: Bumbleby! Because sorry not sorry, there’s no way you can deny their romantic subtext anymore at this point. Early in the volume, there’s the conflict of things being weird between them, and Blake not knowing how to deal with her guilt and thinking she needs to protect Yang (and do stuff like getting her bag down for her) – while Yang feels insulted by this and thinks that Blake sees her as being incapable of doing anything now that she lost an arm. Then, when Blake first leaves to disable the comms, they give each other those really sweet, loving looks. And of course, it all leads up to them confronting their nightmare together, holding hands, and declaring that they’re protecting each other. Add Adam’s jealousy to that (He was making comparisons between himself and Yang and asking “What does she even see in you?” – that’s not a sentence you just say to your ex’s friend) and you’d have to be willfully ignorant to not see the subtext. And those soft moments after the fight just killed me: Blake breaking down crying, Yang immediately running to hug and comfort her, Blake’s promise not to leave, Yang reassuring her and wiping away her tears – I LOVE hurt/comfort stuff and I’m so soft for these two! They love each other so much!

(Pretty much the only downside of all this is that a few major parts were spoiled for me in advance. Look, it’s pretty impossible to follow lots of blogs that post wlw ships and not see that picture of Bumbleby holding hands, or the one of them hugging (or the one of them killing Adam) at some point. So yeah… I’d seen all three of those pictures before and knew this would happen. But it was still really nice to see it all come together and see how we got there!)

- The fight against Cordovin and her giant mecha was also pretty cool! It reminded me a bit of the Legend of Korra finale. Ruby going inside the arm canon was an especially epic moment. And I also liked that small moment when they were flying on the Queen Lancer and Ruby had her arms around Weiss’ waist (a bit of White Rose, yay!).

- I like that moment when the Grimm attack and the team first realizes they just destroyed the only thing capable of stopping them – but to be honest, that was mostly Cordovin’s fault. She brought out that mecha for something it wasn’t meant for and started the fight that attracted the Grimm in the first place. Also, how exactly did she think the people of Atlas would take it if she had actually hurt Weiss? So yeah, most of that mess was on her, tbh. I’m glad she at least came though to help in the end, though.

- Back to Bumbleby: Honestly, the strongest romantic undertones weren’t even in the fight with Adam or directly afterwards for me, but in the last episode when they’re all on the ship together. So, Blake is blaming herself for the plan going wrong, and Yang has an arm around, her, still half holding her and reassuring her. And then – and this one really gets me – Ruby hugs Blake and gives Yang that knowing look over her shoulder while Yang suddenly looks away shyly. They’re communicating without words and Ruby totally knows what’s up. She’s basically saying “So you and Blake, huh?” and suddenly Yang – YANG – is feeling shy. This isn’t subtle. And then later Bumbleby hold hands again and look at each other like that… they’re in love, I don’t make the rules.

- And finally, we of course have Ruby’s epic silver-eyed moment in the finale, which was AMAZING. I loved all the flashbacks and how they’re drawn pictures and not just stills from the episodes, I love how the memories of her friends motivate her, I love how much of Penny there was in there (bit of Nuts and Dolts, yay!), I loved seeing adorable little!Yang, and of course the first look at Summer Rose! (I still want a Team STRQ backstory episode at some point.) Also, the music during that scene was so good!

Gosh, now I’ve talked for way too long again, but there was just so much to say about this volume! Long story short: Loved it, can’t wait to continue! (I know exactly 1 major spoiler for volume 7 because it was unavoidable on social media, but that’s it. And it’s a spoiler I really didn’t mind knowing, so…)

[raviotherabbit]

royal pain in the ass - chapter 5

Chapter 5: Greatfish Isle The Zeldas find themselves stranded.

[first] - [previous] - [next] read it on ao3!

  △ ▲△

The first thing Dusk notices when she steps through the portal is the smell of salt, carried on a cool breeze. And then, almost immediately, her vision begins to swim and she doubles over in dizziness.

“You weren’t-” she swallows. “You weren’t lying…”

“I’m never getting used to this,” Artemis collapses on the sandy beach, draping an arm over her eyes. “Flora, where are we?”

“Well…” Flora exchanges a concerned glance with Sun, who shrugs in return. “We appear to be shipwrecked.”

“What?!” Dusk straightens herself out in an instant, finally getting a view of their surroundings. The island they’re on appears to have been ruined in some way, the ground torn apart as though wrecked by a great force. And, as far as the eye can see, there is only water.

“By Hylia, this can’t be happening!” Dusk brings a hand to her face in horror. “We’re stuck here?!”

“Hey, it’s not that bad,” Flora kneels down, scooping a handful of sand and letting it slip through her fingers. “We have our food supplies, and there doesn’t look to be any danger around here.”

“And we can sleep under the stars!” Sun chimes in. “Have you ever gone camping, Dusk?”

“No.” She crosses her arms grumpily. “I have not.”

“I’ve basically been camping since Link finished his quest…” Sun takes a moment to count on her fingers. “Almost two years ago, now. Trust me,” she places a comforting hand on Dusk’s shoulder. “You’ll catch on in no time.”

  △ ▲△

“So what are we thinking about for dinner tonight?” Flora holds up her slate as she asks, inspecting its contents. “Dusk, I must admit, your era was great for stocking up on supplies. We have the ingredients here to make quite the meal.”

“Shouldn’t we ration, though?” Sun asks, peering over her shoulder. “I mean, we don’t know how long we’ll be stuck here.”

“The Era of the Great Sea isn’t as desolate as it appears,” Artemis remarks, head poking up from where she’d been laying out her bedroll. “Sooner or later, someone is going to come by.”

“You know when we are, then?” Dusk pipes up from her seat at the fire, arms and legs both crossed.

Artemis nods. “It’s truly a beautiful time. A shame that we’re stuck here.”

“A shame indeed,” Dusk mutters under her breath.

“Ah, I remember hearing about it during my lessons,” Flora comments, but it’s all she says on the subject before turning her attention back to Sun. “How about some risotto? We can use pumpkin in it, if you’d like.”

“Really?” Sun’s eyes go wide,and she grips onto Flora’s shoulder just a bit tighter.

“Why not?” Flora flips to the page showing her supplies. “We’ve got everything we need for it.” She pauses for a moment, eying the scowl of their newest member. “Dusk,” she asks, causing her to perk up. “Would you like to help with dinner?”

“Oh,” Dusk almost seems a bit… confused, her head slightly tilted to the side. “Really?”

“Though Wild’s taught me a few things, I’m not the best chef,” Flora admits. “I’d appreciate the extra hands.”

With a bit of hesitation, Dusk slowly scooches over to Flora and Sun. “So,” she glances down at the Sheikah Slate. “What do I need to do?”

  △ ▲△

There have definitely been better pumpkin risottos, that’s for sure. The rice is a bit undercooked, adding an uncomfortable crunch to every bite. Not only that, the pumpkin is slightly goopy, almost spine-shiveringly so.

“Well, this is…” Artemis starts, but she doesn’t finish the thought.

“It’s made with love,” Flora grimaces.

“This sucks,” Dusk says out loud.

“I think!” Artemis deliberately speaks over her. “Because we’re out in the middle of nowhere, we need to start keeping watch at night.”

Oh. Oh no. Dusk’s stomach twists at the idea of that. Sitting around, basked in darkness, doing nothing but watching, waiting? You know what that sounds like?

“Oh, that’s an excellent idea!” Flora comments. “We can even separate into shifts, to minimize any issues that would come from staying up late.”

“We are in unfamiliar waters,” Sun jokes, earning a small laugh from Flora. “But seriously, it may be the best way to ensure our safety while we rest.”

So they agree, just like that?!

“Are-are you serious?” Dusk chokes out, the taste of pumpkin risotto growing even more sour in her mouth.

“Dusk, what’s wrong?” Flora reaches over to her companion, but Dusk jolts away as soon as her fingers brush her arm.

She stands abruptly, her cloak fluttering behind her. “Do as you wish, but I won’t be participating.” Without another word, she storms out of the camp.

  △ ▲△

Thankfully, at least in Dusk’s mind, her counterparts opted not to mention her outburst from the night before. The three of them seemed to have sorted the watch out amongst themselves, but just the thought of that causes a burning feeling of shame to ignite in her chest.

The next morning, the four set about trying to make their small fragment of an islet more comfortable. Artemis has been insistent on keeping a fire going, so they could catch the sight of any passing ships. Sun was more than happy to help her scavenge for kindling. But Flora…

“Malanya’s goddess-damned hooves,” Flora curses under her breath.

Perhaps a bit annoyed, Dusk pokes her head up from her rapier, which she’d been sharpening. Just a few feet away, Flora sits with her legs crossed, arduously attempting to drag a comb through her hair. And arduous is the right word, as no matter how hard she tries, she makes little headway in regard to the tangles.

Dusk places her sword to the side, deciding it will serve her well enough for now. “Do you need help?” she asks.

Flora startles at her words, but settles into a sweet smile when she realizes who’s speaking. “Oh, Dusk.” She holds out the comb. “If you’d like a try at this, go ahead.”

Taking the comb, Dusk silently takes a seat right behind Flora. She tenses slightly as Dusk gently grabs one of the locks, experimentally running her fingers through it.

“This isn’t so bad,” Dusk remarks. “It just needs a bit of maintenance.”

Flora relaxes with a deep breath. “It’s these ocean winds,” she explains, a huff of irritation in her voice. “It always gets bad when I travel, but especially with all the salt in the air…”

Dusk smoothly runs the comb through the top layer of Flora’s hair, removing some of the surface-level tangles. “I can only imagine. How have you been taking care of it before?”

“Typically I’d try to stay ahead of it, but…” Flora sighs. “I’ve fallen behind, lately. Everything has been non-stop since I arrived in Artemis’s time.”

“And how long has it been for you since then?”

Flora takes a moment, and peering around, Dusk can see her counting on her fingers. “Around five days, give or take. It’s just so hard to take care of, you know?”

It takes a great deal of effort for Dusk to swallow down her shock. “Well, if you don’t like it long…” She pinches Flora’s hair between her pointer and middle fingers, miming scissors, at a length just at the bottom of her neck. “Have you considered cutting it?”

“Cutting it?!” Flora brings a hand to her cheek, as if scandalized by the idea. “I- well, I’ve thought of it a few times, yes, but- I’ve never really...” With a strange focus, she twirls one of the strands by her face around her finger, before glancing back at Dusk. “Do you think it’d look good?”

“On you?” Dusk grins warmly. “I think it’d be great. Most of your tangles are in the lower half, so we could just cut them off.”

Suddenly, Flora frowns. “Oh, but we don’t have any scissors. I guess it was a nice thought.”

“I brought a dagger with me,” Dusk reveals, pulling said item from her boot. The handle is intricate and golden, yet not too flashy. “I could get the length down in no time.”

Flora chuckles. “You know, Artemis would kill you if you nicked me.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Dusk surveys Artemis and Sun’s work at the firepit. Sun is currently demonstrating to Artemis the proper way to fan a fire, using a palm leaf.

“How do you know this?” Artemis asks her ancestor with a glint of suspicion in her eye.

Sun straightens, realizing Artemis’s implication. “I didn’t start any fires, Artemis, it was for a Loftwing ceremony-” At that point, though, Dusk stops listening, turning back to Flora.

“Then I’ll have to be careful.”

The first cuts are the most dramatic, slicing away the largest chunks of hair. Flora fidgets with her hands the whole time, but she has the poise to keep her head still for Dusk. Once it’s down to length, though, all that’s left to do is to clean up the edges.

Finally, running the locks through her fingers one last time, Dusk announces, “It’s done.”

Flora gasps with elation, and before Dusk can even lament their lack of a mirror, she pulls out her tablet. Much to Dusk’s surprise, when she points it back at herself, both of their faces appear on its screen. Her own shock and Flora’s pure excitement are reflected back at them.

“Oh, it’s amazing!” Flora turns her head back and forth, her new bob cut twirling with her. “Dusk, thank you so much for this!” She wraps an arm around Dusk’s shoulders, pulling her forward. “Smile!” she says, just before her slate makes a clicking noise.

By the time Dusk processed those words, though, it was already over.

“Wh-what was that?” Dusk stammers out.

For a brief moment, Flora looks at her with confusion. Then her eyes go wide, her mouth forming into an ‘o’. “I took a photo of us on the Sheikah Slate.” She holds out the slate for Dusk. “Do you want to see?”

Hesitantly, Dusk takes the tablet from Flora. She doesn’t have to do much after that because there, right on the screen, is a photograph of Flora’s sweet, smiling face. And Dusk is right next to her, looking towards her descendant with the most bewildered look on her face.

“Woah,” Dusk says, politely ignoring her less-than stellar appearance. “This is amazing.”

“I know, right?” Flora takes her slate back.

Struck with an idea, Dusk grabs a few of the strands of hair left on the ground, holding them up and shouting, “Hey, Artemis!”

Artemis looks between the hair in Dusk’s hand and Flora’s new cut. “What did you do to her hair?!”

Dusk waves the hair back and forth. “I got you more kindling!”

Flora and Sun’s laughs are worth the shade of red Artemis’s face turns.

  △ ▲△

“Are you sure you don’t want to sit with me?” Flora calls over her shoulder. She’s lounging on one of the sharp edges of their little islet, her legs hanging over and dipping into the sea below. “It’s a great way to cool down!”

“No thank you!” Sun responds with a smile. Together, she and Dusk are happily sitting under their makeshift canopy, constructed from their spare blankets and tied together both with stakes and to the sole tree on their shard of an island. Dusk’s own cloak has been abandoned, now serving as a barrier between them and the itchy grass.

“We don’t have bathing suits like you and Artemis do,” Dusk explains, with Sun nodding along solemnly, “So we probably shouldn’t get wet.”

Flora shrugs, but her resignation turns to horror as, suddenly, a hand wraps around her ankle. With a shout, she disappears past the ridge, into the ocean.

Oh, Lanayru’s tears!

“Flora!” they both shout, leaping to their feet and sprinting to the edge of the islet. When they skid to a stop, though, they don’t find a horrible sea monster attempting to snap its jaws around their descendant.

Instead, they’re just in time to bear witness to Artemis, waist-deep in the shallows, hefting Flora upwards and, despite her kicks of protest, supplexing her into the water.

SPLASH!

And, just like that, Dusk and Sun are soaked.

Artemis springs out of the water, laughing in a way a cat would laugh if it caught its prey. If Dusk didn’t know any better, with her wet hair and all her grace, she might have thought she was a mermaid.

“Rude.” Flora surfaces just behind Artemis, though she doesn’t emerge past her neck.

“You needed to stop delaying,” Artemis insists, crossing her arms. “I was getting bored on my own in here.”

“I was just checking on Sun and Artemis-!”

“Uh, hello?!” Dusk shouts and gestures to her dress, which is currently dripping saltwater onto the grass below. “Two sopping wet queens, here!”

“I’m not a queen,” Sun murmurs, though she’s mostly focused on wringing the water from the edges of her own dress.

“Can it, Sun,” Dusk orders, pointing an accusatory hand at Artemis. “You splashed us!”

Artemis rolls her eyes. “A little water never hurt anyone.”

“A little water?!” Dusk almost shrieks. “Do you know how much I spent on this dress?!”

Flora stops blowing bubbles to poke her mouth above the water. “Why did you bring an expensive dress on your time travel adventure?”

“Because as a queen,” Dusk refers to herself with her fingers on her chest. “I need to present myself nicely. In fact, I’m surprised you three don’t have anything nicer.”

“Anything nice I own has been eaten by moths by now,” Flora mutters. “Or malice.”

“This is my nicest outfit?” Sun reveals.

“Stop saying nice,” Artemis groans. “It doesn’t sound real anymore. Dusk, if your dress is ruined now, do you want to join us?”

Dusk gasps with indignation. “I would never-!”

“Fine! Fine!” Artemis waves her off. “Forget I asked. Go back to your castle or whatever.”

She almost leaps into the water then and there, just to give Artemis a piece of her mind. In fact, Dusk takes one sharp, threatening step towards, her fists curled into balls, when- “Come on,” Sun takes Dusk’s hand, and the contact grounds her in a way. “I know a lot of good laundry tricks. I could probably un-saltwater your dress.”

“You’d do that?” Dusk asks, almost confused as Sun guides her pack to their canopy.

“Of course,” Sun smiles at her. “Why wouldn’t I help?”

Artemis stands in the water, watching as Dusk and Sun retreat. Her lips are pressed together, eyes narrowed in, and Flora can’t figure out what she’s thinking for the life of her.

This kind of sucks.

Hylia, alright. She can figure this out.

For now, though, Artemis has made a grave tactical error, leaving her back to Flora while her attention is elsewhere.

As quietly as she can, Flora sneaks up behind Artemis. Then, when she’s close enough, she leaps at her back, pushing down with all of her might.

“I’ve got you!” Flora shouts, before realizing… Oh no. Even using all of her strength, she hasn’t pushed Artemis down an inch. And now, Artemis is looking right into her eyes, one eyebrow raised in amusement.

Wordlessly, Artemis flips Flora off of her back, and she lands in the water with a Smack!

“Ow,” Flora whimpers as she peeks back above the water.

With a sigh, Artemis dramatically brushes her hands off. “Now, that can’t be the best we can do.”

  △ ▲△

“Sun, this has got to end.”

That’s what Flora proclaims when she wakes Sun that night for her nightly shift.

“What’s gotta end?” Sun slurs, still half asleep.

“This fighting between Artemis and Dusk,” she crosses her arms. “I don’t like it.”

“You’ve noticed it too?” Sun asks as she rubs her eyes.

Flora shrugs, settling next to Sun’s bedroll. “I think just about anyone with eyes could notice that.” And then, without thinking, she adds, “It reminds me of Link and Revali.”

Just a little bit, Flora’s heart aches.

“Huh?” Sun tilts her head upon hearing this. “Who’s Revali?”

“Oh, Revali- uh,” Flora stammers awkwardly. “He’s a friend. Was a friend.”

Immediately, Sun breaks out those sad little eyes, as if she can guess exactly what happened to Revali. As if she knows anything about her Hyrule. “I’m sorry, I know it’s hard-”

“It’s fine!” Flora shouts, just a bit too loudly. Instinctively, she covers her mouth, though she’s relieved to see that Artemis and Dusk don’t stir within their own bedrolls.

“It’s fine,” she reiterates, quieter this time. “We need to focus on this, now.”

“Alright,” Sun pushes her blanket down, meeting Flora’s eye with a determined smirk. “How do you propose we do it?”

  △ ▲△

“See, this is the Cryonis Rune,” Flora demonstrates by summoning a pillar of ice in the shallow part of the water. “It can make ice.”

“Very interesting, Flora,” Dusk comments, eying the designs on the surface of the ice. “In fact, it’s kind of pretty, too.”

“Thank you,” Flora bows jokingly. “Obviously, it can be used to keep us cool during hot days. But also, they can be utilized as makeshift bridges across waterways.”

“Oh? Like from this island to another?” Sun’s acting leaves a bit to be desired, but she can at least keep the ball rolling.

Flora snaps her fingers at Sun. “Exactly! Now, I can’t be certain of where any proper islands are, but I can at least make my way over to one of the other land masses nearby. It could be good for foraging.”

Artemis raises her hand. “Are you sure this is safe?”

“Of course, Wild has done it plenty of times,” Flora assures her.

“I don’t know if anything that kid does can be construed as safe,” Dusk murmurs under her breath.

Artemis’s eye slightly twitches at that. “Dusk does bring up a good point.”

“Oh for Hylia’s sake,” Flora pinches the bridge of her nose. “Wild is fine! He’s accident prone! Not safety unconscious!”

“Oh, last time he visited, we played this fun flying game!” Sun reveals with a small clap. “He kept jumping off the side of Skyloft, and I had to try and catch him with my Loftwing while he avoided me!”

“Sun just disproved your point, Flora,” Dusk points out, smugly.

“We’re getting off-topic!” Flora suddenly shouts. “I can only have three pillars up at a time, so not everyone can come with. Any volunteers?”

“Yeah, Wild was really good at that game!” Sun continues on as if nobody else spoke. “He almost reached the Surface once.”

“I said, any volunteers?” Flora states once again, drawing out the words to catch Sun’s attention.

“Oh, I-!” Sun clears her throat. “I’ll come with you, Zelda!” she says in a tone that is not at all natural.

Flora sighs deeply before muttering to herself, “Why’d you call me Zelda?”

“What was that?” Sun asks innocently.

“I said let’s go now!” Flora jovially swings her fist. “We don’t know how long we’ll be there, so we should get there as fast as possible.”

Artemis looks between the two of them, narrowing her eyes. Flora almost buckles under her scrutiny. “Alright, you two. Be safe, Dusk and I will be keeping an eye on you.”

“Yeah sure,” Dusk says, more focused on her nails than whatever Artemis is saying.

The climb onto the ice pillars is a bit slippery, but Flora and Sun are able to find their footing once they’re squarely on top. Slowly yet surely, they make their way towards the tallest of the island shards. They’d decided on it ahead of time, since it seemed like the obvious choice.

Occasionally, Sun keeps glancing back, meeting Artemis’s gaze every time.

“I think she’s onto us,” Sun whispers, tugging lightly on Flora’s cloak.

“Keep with the plan,” Flora assures her, though her voice is shaky. “Everything will be fine.”

Once they’re at the halfway point between the islands, Flora suddenly stops. Finally, she turns back, facing Sun.

“Are you ready?” she asks, holding her Slate up slightly.

Unable to bring herself to speak, Sun nods.

Without any hesitation, Flora pulls up the Rune once again. But this time, instead of creating a new ice pillar, she breaks the three they’re standing on.

For a brief, helpless moment, they’re weightless. Then gravity rushes in, and the two girls plummet into the sea below.

“Flora! Sun!” Artemis shouts, her hands on either side of her head in horror.

“Oh no!” Flora shouts, purposefully keeping her head just above the water. She thrashes with her arms around wildly.

Sun kicks up to the surface as well. “Dusk! Artemis! Save us!” Dramatically, she raises a hand to the sky.

“Idiots! You can swim!” Dusk doesn’t bother to stand, just cups her mouth as she yells at them both. “You’re not hurt or anything!”

“Uh.” Flora and Sun exchange a glance, temporarily pausing their drowning.

“There’s a sea monster!” Flora tries.

Artemis’s shoulders sag, and just barely, the two of them can hear a groan. “Get back on land! Both of you!”

“Naydra’s fucking ice!”

“Language!” both Artemis and Dusk reprimand Flora.

  △ ▲△

“Oh no, I’m bleeding to death!” Flora theatrically collapses into Sun’s waiting arms. “I need both of you to donate blood!”

“Flora,” Dusk deadpans. “You literally aren’t bleeding.”

  △ ▲△

“I got stung by a bee,” Sun pouts, holding up her finger. “I need medical attention from two great queens of Hyrule, please.”

“Why can’t Flora help you?” Artemis asks, noticing that said queen is poorly hiding behind the tree.

“She died.”

  △ ▲△

“Dusk, Artemis,” Flora solemnly approaches the two queens, both of whom were previously busy tending to camp. “I have decided to grant upon both of you a great honor. One that, previously, I’ve only given to my dear knight Link. And, as you know, I am heartbroken over the fact that it’s been so long since I’ve seen him, and I mourn his presence everyday. Desperately, I wish for his safety and hope to reunite with him soon This is a task that I hope you will take up in his name, for he is no longer here to-”

“Spit it out already, Flora,” Dusk commands, her hands paused in the middle of sewing her blanket, because she did accidentally slash it when she was working on her dagger. “You’re giving me a headache.”

Flora presents the Sheikah Slate to the two of them. “I want you to make dinner tonight.”

“No.”

  △ ▲△

“I give up!” Sun throws her hands into the air in the middle of dinner. Having suddenly lost her appetite, she pushes her fried wild greens to the side.

“Oh thank goodness,” Dusk sighs in relief, leaning back against their lone tree. She takes another bite of her meal. “I thought you’d never stop.”

“What exactly were you two doing, today?” Artemis questions, pausing her own dinner. “Were you trying out acting?”

“No,” Flora grumbles, crossing her arms.

Gently, the moon rises into the sky. Tonight, its left half is missing, like an incomplete puzzle.

Something inside of Sun snaps. How dare they?! Whether she’s Hylia or not, she’s their ancestor! And here they are, treating her like a child?! She isn’t even that much younger than them!

“Do not speak to me in that tone,” Sun’s words are sharp, like a knife through wool, and directed towards Artemis and Dusk. “I am your grandmother several times over, and I don’t deserve to be treated with such disrespect! You reap the benefits of my kingdom to this day!”

“Oh, like I’ve enjoyed leading your kingdom!” Dusk snaps back. “Do you know what I’ve done, what I’ve sacrificed for Hyrule? Don’t hold it over my head!”

Squeezing her eyes shut, Flora covers her ears.

“Can it Dusk!” Sun throws her words right back at her. “All day, Flora and I have been trying to get you two-” she points between Artemis and Dusk. “-to get along! We’re family, this shouldn’t be so hard!”

Artemis gives Dusk a pointed look. “Well maybe if some people were a little more open to my ideas, we wouldn’t have issues in the first place!”

“Oh since we’re going there!” Dusk stands, directing an accusatory finger at Artemis. “Maybe if you didn’t try to control everything, I wouldn’t have a problem with you!”

“Both of you, stop!”

Flora peeks one eye open, hoping desperately she doesn’t find one of her ancestors choking the other. But, in reality, it’s not any of her counterparts that catch her attention. No, it’s something past them, past their small islet…

There’s something on the water.

“What in Hylia’s name is that?!” Flora points at it in horror.

Shocked out of their argument, the three Zeldas all turn to follow her finger. Floating on the water, there it is.

A ship, bathed in a ghostly blue light.

[thiswasinevitableid]

For the prompts: Sternay, Centaur, NSFW. Thank you!

Here you go!

Note: I use “races” here in the D&D sense.

Most nights, Barclay works undistracted until the end of dinner. Tonight, looks out the kitchen window so often Moira teases him that she’ll close it to save him from cutting off his own hand by mistake. 

He can’t help it. Every time a new party returns from an adventure or demands a table so they can sit and plan their next epic quest, he pokes his head into the dining room of Amnesty Lodge to see if a certain orc is among them. 

Technically, Joseph is half-orc, as his father was an elf, but his orcish traits dominate in all but his build and his ears. He’s so handsome, the first time he addressed Barclay by name he blushed for an hour afterwards. 

That was the second time they’d met, Joseph having returned from his job as the hired rogue of a party of treasure hunters. He’d been a spy during the last great skirmish, and now put his observation and information gathering skills to good use for a fair price. He, like other adventurers for hire, used Amnesty Lodge as his base, as it welcomed creatures of all kinds and had the best food in all of Kepler. 

When Joseph became a regular, it didn’t take long for him to post up in the place where it was easiest for him to talk to Barclay, and more than once he stayed to help the centaur put up chairs and wipe down tables. Four months ago, before he left to help some mages in search of rare artifacts, he knocked on Barclay’s door in the pre-dawn rain and kissed him goodbye, telling him to consider the kiss an offer he could refuse or accept on Josephs’ return. 

Barclay kissed him back immediately in reply.

Ever since that morning, Barclay’s orientation towards time changed. He no longer saw his life in weeks and months; instead it was divided into times when Joseph was in town and times when he was gone. It helps that Joseph prefers quests that are about knowledge and have a low chance of death, as he has little taste for violence (in fact, the only orc he knows with less taste for it is Duck, who seems annoyed at the fact the universe thinks it’s his destiny to fight).

When the last diner stumbles upstairs to their room, Moira pats his side, “I can get Jake to help me clean up. You go on home.”

A short walk brings him to his cottage on the edge of Amnestys’ grounds. He gathers his mail, starts a kettle for tea, and contemplates if he should take a bath now or wait for Joseph in the hopes he might join him. 

Knockknock

He hurries to the door, throws it open and finds a disheveled but pleased looking Joseph holding a bouquet of branches. 

“Hey” his brain offers no further thoughts, too busy drinking in the sight of the boyfriend he’s been missing these last ten days. 

“I’m sorry I’m late, we ran into some kind of conflict between two water golems and had to take a longer route. I, um, brought some apple blossoms as an apology.” 

“No need to apologize, blue eyes” Barclay takes the flowers, “I’m just glad you’re back in one piece. Uh, do you, uh, wanna come in? I’m making tea and, uh, I was gonna take a bath if you wanna join me.” In spite of the fact Joseph is already through the door and taking off his shoes, Barclay worries he’s moving too fast. 

“A bath sounds great, big guy” Joseph cups his face, takes his time kissing every inch of his lips before releasing him, “I’ll go get it started.” 

Barclay shuts the door and trots towards the kitchen. He munches two stems of blossoms and then sets the rest in some water on the table. 

He joins Joseph just as the orc closes off the sluice that directs the water from the hot springs outside into the massive, rocky tub. It’s designed with multiple wide, stone benches so Barclay can sit comfortably with his legs tucked beneath him. He sets the mugs of tea by the edge of the pool and wades in, settling on his preferred bench as Joseph floats over to him. A grey scar runs up one side of his green chest which, combined with the stylish piercings in his ears and the one stud in his nose, make him look a mixture of tough and debonair that never fails to make Barclay paw the ground with frustrated desire. 

The orc is so handsome, has kissed Barclay breathless and given him the honor of tasting his cock several times, but there are things Barclay wants from him that he will never ask for. And so, as the orc drapes his arms around his shoulders, he puts those lurid thoughts from his mind. 

“Do you want me to get your back?” Well-trimmed claws scritch the sensitive line where fur meets skin. 

“Fuck yeah.”

Joseph splashes to his side, retrieving one of the milky-white bottles lined along the rocky edge. The scent of oatmeal and chamomile fills twines into the steam as the orc guides a generous line of the shampoo down his spine. Barclay would never admit it in public, but he uses this blend in part because it brings a shine to his dark bay fur, the color of which he is immensely proud. 

“You have such a handsome coat” Joseph murmurs, fingers creating a path of suds as he rubs them in circles, “then again, the rest of you is handsome too, so it’s only remarkable in that it puts every other centaur I’ve seen to shame.”

Barclay squeezes the loofah he’s using on his shoulders, groans when Joseph digs his fingers into the spot on his back legs that is always sore after a day in the kitchen.

“Look at all that strength buried right here” Joseph pets up his leg and along his flank, “gods, Barclay, maybe I should count myself lucky that you work somewhere you aren’t seen so that I’m not constantly fighting off every centaur who passes through town and sees what a catch you are.”

“Babe please” he dumps water over his head, which does fuck-all to clear it, “please, when you talk like that it’s, I’m-”

The hands switch to soothing circles, “I’m sorry, if it’s making you uncomfortable I can stop.”

“No, no it’s more like, uh, fuck” he takes a deep breath, “talking to me like that while you touch me, while you’re right there all naked and perfect I, it turns me on and I don’t want to make you deal with that.”

Soft splashing as Joseph moves in front of him, “I think now is the time to tell you I’m, um, more than happy to deal with it. In fact, I was kind of hoping we could do that tonight. We can take our time, since neither of us has work tomorrow and I, um, well let’s just say I thought about you a lot while I was gone and wanted the chance to act on some of those thoughts.”

Barclay snorts, softly, “Trust me, babe, even if you think it’s a good idea now, you won’t when it happens. Lots of people love the idea of fucking a centaur right up until the moment and then they bail. And I mean, like, that’s cool, I don’t wanna fuck someone who’s freaked out and they can call it quits whenever but...yeah. I appreciate the thought, blue eyes.” He smiles, trying to show that he means it, because he does, he loves that Joseph thinks of him that way.

Joseph massages some of the shampoo into his hair, the two of them still face to face, “Do you remember that black trunk I left here last time?”

“Uhhuh” He closes his eyes, neck relaxing, “said it was stuff you needed to keep at my place.”

“It is, and now I know you didn’t peek at it. I did a bunch of research into the best way to prepare to get fucked by a centaur, and everything we need is in that box.”

“Aw babe, you did a research project for me.” Barclay hides his face in Joseph’s shoulder.

“It’s my love language.” Joseph kisses his cheek, “Barclay, if you don’t want to do this, we don’t have to. I just wanted you to know that this isn’t some idle fantasy for me, with you filling the role of hot centaur. This is something I want to do with you, my boyfriend who I adore and want to get fucked by.”

“Promise you’ll say something if I’m hurting you?” Barclay mumbles against soap-tinged skin.

A kiss on his head this time, “I promise.” 

------------------------------------------------------------------

Joseph is conscious of his reputation. He always has been, whether that was how his superiors saw him or how his potential clients see him now. This is why he’s well-aware of the joke that goes as follows:

Did you hear about the undiscovered creature?

No. What is it?

A race Joseph hasn’t fucked. 

That’s the translation from orcish, anyway. 

It’s not as if he has a checklist of beings he wants to bed. It’s that he’s never seen a creatures race as a deterrent. Not the very charming bugbear who bought him a drink his first time up in Vogel Pass. Not the shy dragonborn who asked him to dance at the Festival of the Two Moons. And certainly not the sweet, gentle centaur who owned his heart from the first time he smiled at him. 

Joseph considers himself practical, but Barclay forces him to confront the romantic streak running through his heart. He’d debated how best to show it, considering traditional gestures of orc courtship or a long, long letter, before an exasperated Duck pulled him aside and told him to just tell him, please Joe for fucks sake this is painful to watch. 

Over the last few months, he’s learned which flowers to bring his lover, what places to pet and scratch to melt that strong body beneath his hands. He’s also observed that Barclay is sexually pent up yet never asks for release, no matter how many times he swallows or strokes Josephs’ cock. So, while his research and subsequent offering of his ass are far from selfless, he hopes it will show his boyfriend that he will put in the work to bring him pleasure. 

He’s busy laying out the four glass cocks of increasing sizes next to the largest bottle of lube they had at fantasy Costco while Barclay arranges a set of cushions, bars, and ropes near the bed. When put together, the items form a rig that allow centaurs to fuck smaller partners. Barclay bought it the last time someone expressed a desire to fuck him; it’s never been used. 

Joseph sits on the bed, all his supplies in reach, and pats the large mattress to indicate Barclay can join him. 

“Should I help?” The centaur tucks his legs under him, tail twitching once. 

“Yes, by holding me while I warm up. You won’t be able to when you’re fucking me, so I need to get my fill.” He rests his back against Barclay’s bare chest, tips his head up so his boyfriend can kiss him, “if you’re good, maybe I’ll let you open me up some of the way.”

Barclay whines, nuzzling his hair as he preps the smallest toy. It slides in easily, Joseph working it back and forth with soft moans. It’s not long before he trades it for the next size, the one he uses most often. The centaur’s arms twine around his waist and his chin rests on his shoulder, jostling in time with Joseph’s thrusts. 

The third toy has a flared base and he grunts, spreading his legs wider as he pushes it in. He stops mid-way, needing a moment to relax. Barclay rubs his thighs, asking if there’s anything he needs. 

“A little distraction might help.”

“I can manage that.”

“GAHahnnnnm, shit, that works.” Joseph moves the toy incrementally deeper as Barclay nibbles his ears. The playful pain always makes him shiver and submit to whatever’s happening, and soon the toy bottoms out. He fucks himself with it until the idea of taking more feels not only possible, but wonderful. 

The fourth toy is, according to his research, to inches shorter and an inch and a half thinner than the average centaur cock. It’s an intense stretch and he groans, falling back in Barclays arms. The centaurs breath is coming in hot puffs on his neck and chest, and the bed is moving more than it was a minute ago.

“Enjoying the show, big guy?”

“Uhhuhnnn, I, fuck babe this is making me so fucking hard but I, I didn’t wanna say anything in case you needed to back out.”

“My sweet, considerate Barclay. Here, I have an idea.” He tips forward, splaying out on his stomach with the toy sticking part way out of his ass, “I want you to finish getting me ready.”

“Okay” He can feel Barclay’s hand shaking through the length of the toy, “fuck, your ass looks good like this.”

“It’ll look even better with yours in itAH gods, that’s a good speed for it, gods that feels so good.”

Barclay growls, pushes the toy all the way in as Joseph arches off the bed with a wall-shaking moan.

“That’s it, ohmylord, see big guy, I can take whatever you give me. You won’t break me, won’t hurt me, just fill me up and make me cum so hard I white out-”

“Who says you’re gonna get to cum, blue eyes? Maybe I’ll just fill that tight orc ass up and leave you there until I’m ready to breed again.”

There’s a smack just as the toy stops moving. Joseph turns to see Barclay with his hands clamped over his mouth. 

“‘M ‘orry.”

With some effort and another moan as the toy shifts, he rolls onto his side and holds up two fingers, “First off, I’ve heard way more explicit ‘breeding talk’ including from my own kind. Second of all, if it bothered me, I wouldn’t keep talking about how strong and capable you are when I want to wind you up. I was a spy, Barclay; I’m very good at telling what people want and what they’re hiding.”

“Joe….” it’s a whine. Rarer still is the use of his nickname, something Barclay only does when he’s far gone with desire. Joseph allows himself some internal smugness before smiling at his boyfriend. 

“I’m ready for the main event if you are.”

Lube drips down his thighs as Barclay helps him into place. There’s a large, square cushion with very little give shoved up against the wall. It’s waist-height for Joseph, so he bends over it and lets his boyfriend strap his wrists and ankles down against the faux-velvet. 

“Is that okay? You don’t need the extra pad under your feet?”

“Assuming we’re at a comfortable angle for you, I’m all set.”

“Right. Cool.” Barclay sounds almost impatient; what an evening of firsts this is turning out to be. “I’m gonna put the last piece on.”

A cool circle of stainless steel sits snugly against Joseph's ass. In his reading, he learned that a common issue was the cock slipping out during the precarious first pushes, leading to frustration for everyone. Since Barclay can’t guide it with his hand from the angle he’ll be at, the ring offers a tactile clue and keep him on course once he pushes in. 

The centaur moves so he’s behind him, then steps forward so his front legs are on either side of the block Joseph is strapped to. From here, the heat of his body surrounds the orc and he feels safe instead of smothered. After three mis-judged nudges, his cock threads though the ring, the flat, wide head of it parting Joseph’s ass as they both groan. 

“Shit” Joseph hisses. Barclay freezes above him, so he adds, “that was good cursing.”

It remains so as the thick head stretches him open, and he gasps with relief when it’s done breaching his body. The shaft is narrower, so that’s the hard part over with. Better still, his preparation pays off; the cock slides most of the way in with little resistance. 

“Can I start moving?” He can’t really see Barclay’s face from this angle, but the centaurs' shy, lustful hope is clear in his voice.

“Yes, big guyFUCK! Ohfuck, yes, holy hells that’s good.” The first thrusts make the purpose of the straps clear; if Joseph weren’t tied down, he’d be bounced this way and that, increasing his chances of injury. Trapped as he is, there’s less chance for accidental harm and no distraction from the massive cock relentlessly thudding into him. 

“Fuck, Joseph, you feel so good baby, fuck I never think of you as small but it’s like I can reach the back of your fucking throat like this.”

The comment draws his attention to what he assumes is a lump in the flat surface of the cushion that’s causing his stomach to rock at an angle. 

“Holy shit that’s, that’s your cock. Barclay, it’s, it’s literally bulging my stomach out.” He wishes the set up allowed him to see it, he wants to sear the image of Barclay’s cock molded against his flesh into the deepest corners of his memory. 

“I can feel it babe, believe me. Fuck, such a tight fit, you’re like a fucking toy, stretching to take me.” More force behind the thrusts, suggesting Barclay is using the bar enchanted into the wall for this exact purpose, “shouldn’t waste a breeding load on a toy, but fuck me if I care.”

“Gods almighty” that fact hadn’t appeared in his research, but makes perfect sense; if a centaur hasn’t fucked in awhile, their biology might generate a greater amount of cum the next time around in hopes of continuing their kind. 

“Yeah, you like that, like the idea of taking my cum so deep you’ll be able to taste it. Gonna fill you up babe, fuck, gonna leave you dripping for weeks.”

“That’s right, big guy, you can cum as much as you want.” His comment dies out into a prolonged whimper as his cock ruts against the cushion, pushing him towards orgasm. 

Barclay stops, huffing, and rumbles, “It’s cute how you think you get to make that call, instead of taking me for as long as I fucking say like the needy little piece of ass you are.”

“Sweet fucking hell” Is all Joseph gets out before his words give way to desperate, ecstatic sounds. Barclay fucks him so hard and fast it shakes dust from the ceiling and a picture from the wall. The entire lower half of his body is stretched and pounded so mercilessly and with absolutely no pauses, meaning his orgasm only registers when splatters across the floor. His sensitive cock gets no reprieve, bouncing in time with Barclays increasingly sharp thrusts and making Joseph gasp whenever it rubs against the cushion. 

His assumption that Barclay is going his fastest goes out the window when the centaur quickens his pace, Josephs wrists and ankles twisting in their bonds as his mind falls silent. All he hears is Barclay grunting as his cock tries to go deeper into his ass. 

“C’mon babe, c’mon, take it, take me deep, take the whole godsdamn fucking thingohfuck, Joe.” There’s a deep, broken cry as cum pumps into him, his body aching at the further intrusion. Barclay whimpers and moans above him, hips still jerking as he keeps cumming. By the time he gives a final thrust, cum is escaping back down his shaft, Joseph’s body unable to contain it. 

“Do, do you want me to pull out all at once?”

“Yes, best to get the mess over with instead of dragging oOWut.” His body gives up any pretense of supporting itself when the centaur slides out of him. Thank goodness for the cushions. Barclay isn’t faring any better, knees wobbling as he undoes Josephs’ restraints and helps him to the bed. The orc just manages to remember to toss a towel out for him to lay on so he doesn’t stain the bed sheets with the spend still running down his legs. 

Barclay nestles protectively around him, guiding his head to rest on the still-shiny fur of his back, “I can’t believe you did that for me.”

“For us. I don’t know if you noticed, but I thoroughly enjoyed myself.”

“Kinda got that sense, yeah.”  Barclay rests their heads together, “Even so just...thanks. Thanks for taking the time and effort it takes to fuck me.”

Joseph toys with Barclay’s hair, tucks it behind his ears, “Barclay, I love you. Part of that means figuring things like this out together. Even if being with you, in any sense of the word, was a hundred times more complicated, that wouldn’t be enough to stop me from trying.”

Barclay doesn’t ask if he means it. Instead, he draws him into a kiss, works his magic with his lips and tongue until Joseph is practically draped over him, content and exhausted. Before the centaur scoops him up for another bath, he kisses his cheek and rumbles, “Thanks, babe. And I love you too.”

[abizarreyodelingincident]

Linked Universe: Regrets

“Although I accepted life as the hero, I could not convey the lessons of that life to those who came after... At last, I have eased my regrets.”

Twilight had never forgotten those words. He had carried them with pride. Used them when his hands faltered. Remembered the strength that had been taught to him. Swords without courage meant nothing. With the lessons of the Hero's Shade, Twilight struck down Hyrule's greatest enemy for good.

(He thought. But there would be another after him, long after, but one nonetheless, and he would suffer greatly from the shadow of Hyrule's first enemy.)

Nowadays, it's a white lie that haunts his nights.

“Link... I... See you later.”

He's learned when things aren't meant to be. And he loves his fellow heroes. Wouldn't trade them for peaceful days wandering his Hyrule. He loves them. Like brothers. Like another father. But he knows it can't last. Whenever there is a meeting, a parting is sure to follow. And theirs... through time and space... there will be no reunion after they've completed this quest.

He should shield his heart better, but they slip past too easily for that. One day, they'll go their separate way. He can't change that. Still, any time he looks at the old man, his heart squeeze and he just wants to help. To save him. He can't.

Is it like that for anyone else? Does Hyrule hide something like this from Legend behind all his sweet smiles and his eagerness to learn? Does he also think of a nameless grave by a tree? Maybe a grand mausoleum, because it's Legend, and he's earned at least this much, to hear him speak of his many trials?

He smirks to himself at the idea, but it slips soon enough.

Four? No one's quite sure where he fits in the timeline, but the best guess is 'early'. Wind? No, he's said the legends exist, but the hero never showed. Warriors thinks it's the timelines diverging when Time returned to his youth to prevent Ganon's rise. He's another odd one out. Knowing a bit of everything and everyone's legacy. Does Warriors know how it'll end for me?Wild certainly doesn't.

The truth is Twilight knows that Time will never be fully content despite Malon, despite a future as a father, and he hates the fact that he cannot save his mentor. Cannot prevent that regret from taking root in him. He's only ever known that he hated leaving his Hyrule defenseless, with no one to learn from the hardships he was shoved into as a child.

Twilight hates it so much. Sometimes, Zant's pendant pulsed with the dark emotions that want to choke him up. He almost wonders if there isn't something right in the ranting of the old usurpers. The Goddesses were so many things, but kind?

It's hard to remember their blessings when the people you love most see their fate as cursed. When Hyrule is doomed without that pain.

“Green rupee for your thoughts?” Warriors ask, watching the sun set over the horizon.

“I know I'm country folk, but we ain't that cheap, Captain,” Twilight drawls.

Warriors shrugs, then pulls his sword out to run a whetstone over its edge. “Well, I'm broke. My queen and I hadn't thought it'd stretch out over this long.”

The thought sobers Twilight, who is decidedly not looking dusk painting the sky like a bonfire. “Miss her?” he says, quieter than usual.

Warriors' glance is a bit sharper than warranted, but he makes no comment about it. “Certainly,” he replies easily. “She was one of the few... mhmm, wait, did I never tell you about my situation back in my era?”

He sees the non-sequitur and accepts it with a sigh of relief. Sitting down by the same tree, he settles just close enough for them to touch shoulders. “No, but I sense this is a long story.”

“It's the perfect length, thank you,” Warriors haughtily counters. “So, it all begins roughly ten years ago-”

Twilight snorts, and pushes his brother roughly. Warriors is agile enough he slips back into place without dropping the sword or the stone, radiating smug triumph.

In the end, he joins Warriors on first watch just to distract himself from his thoughts.

***

Lon Lon Ranch is one of his favorite place to visit. Stepping inside feels like being served a slice of Ordon on a platter. It's a piece of home, without the awkwardness that comes from the odd looks here and there. Unspoken questions about every little way he's changed.

Twilight shakes his head. What's he doing? Somewhat forcefully, he pulls back the sleeves of his tunic and spits in his hands. He's got some work to do, and it's not Legend (who is egging Warriors more than he's shoveling) or Wind (who is having the time of his life learning how to ride with Time's Epona) that'll finish the chores for him.

“Here, sweetheart.” Malon holds out a waterskin to him and a towel. “Don't forget to rest and drink every once in a while. With this sun, it's not healthy to neglect it.”

He accepts gratefully, swallowing a mouthful of cool water first. “I will, Ma'am.”

“Oh, hush with that. It's Malon for family,” she corrects him easily, and he ducks his head, pleased. “And I'll be watching you, sweetheart. The Goddesses know my Link's not one to recognize his limits.”

Time straightens and leans against the handle of his spade. “Now, now, honey, you know I'm a reasonable man.”

“Did I tell you about the time my clever husband decided to renovate the ba-!”

Malon lets out a fake shriek when Time grabs her with his dirt-covered hands. Pretends to fight back. She's not fooling him or her husband. They've both witnessed her handling the cattle. It's not from Time's side of the family that Twilight inherited the strength.

(They're the type of couple that teases each other constantly. He wonders what it would have been like if Midna...)

There's something a little different about Malon today. Something under her skin. Like she was holding on to a secret with both hands and it's threatening to explode the whole time. He wouldn't call her nervous. Excited, though? Yes.

He finds out at dinner.

They've just finished another two course meal courtesy of Malon and Wild when she pulls her husband aside during dessert. It gets a glance or two, but the conversation keeps going on the topic of stupidest things they've ever done. Since it's Wild's turn though, Twilight can still focus on the married couple by the sink.

(It's a sad day when he can name more for Wild than Wild remembers. They've got diverging definitions of what constitutes a 'stupid' thing. He will forever argue against the monster masks, especially the lynel one.)

“I was waiting for a chance to tell you in person. I saw a wisewoman last week.”

“What for...?” Time asks, and he sounds a little anxious for once, hands hovering closer to his wife.

Coy, Malon bites her lips and glances at Twilight. Time has to turn to see where, exactly, she's looking, and his breath hitches when he realizes. His mouth twitch as he grabs both her hands, focused on her with such intensity she giggles.

“You mean...?”

She breaks into a grin, nods and whispers-yells: “Yes! We're going to be parents, Link.”

The kiss he lands on her lips is indecent enough to attract whistles from some of the others, who seem to be clueing in to the excitement in the room. When those two come apart, a pleasant blush colors their cheeks, and he tells her, over and over that he loves her. When he's had his fill, he whirls around to face them and their cheering.

“Boys!” Time calls out, exuberant, absolutely unguarded. “Boys! I'm going to be a father!”

The roof, improbably, resists the eruption of screams. Time's pure joy is contagious and it's the best news they've got since starting this quest. Congratulations rain on the happy couple.

“Someone's going to have competition, huh?” Legend nudges Twilight's ribs, wagging eyebrows.

Normally, Twilight would be flattered that his bond with Time is that obvious. Normally, he'd grab Legend and give him a noogie for his insolence. Make him cry 'uncle'. The classic big brother behavior he's used to. But he barely hears the words as it is, his mind bogged down by a sudden realization.

He stalls.

He's a second delayed in joining in the congratulations, behind Sky and Hyrule who are a little less physical in their affections. They've formed a circle around their leader and his wife, offering their best wishes, joking, patting Time on the back, kissing Malon's cheeks.

And then it's his turn.

Twilight remembers to breath. Offers his hand first.

“Oh, come here, you!” she swats away his hand and forces him into a hug that's warm, soft.

“You'll make a wonderful mother, Malon.”

Her expression shifts slightly, more of a knowing smirk, and he can see her laughter in her eyes. 'Oh, now you tell me.'

It's impossible for him not to smile back.

And below that elation, the flare of hope in his guts, is a heart stopping dread.

***

The next few battles are some of the worst Twilight had to struggle through. The enemies' number swell. Their ambushes turn elaborate with unheard of combinations of monsters that never coexisted naturally. The puppeteer behind them has tightened the strings, and Twilight has trouble keeping his head above water when every second he looks away, he fears his mentor (father) will die.

It's sheer experience and a heaping dose of help from his companions that ensure he's not dead. And even then...

“There, good as new,” Hyrule proclaims, slapping Twilight's bicep for good measure. “Now how about you don't pull a Wild and drop your weapon next time? We're counting on you to teach him caution, not the opposite.”

“Heard you, 'Rule!” Wild protests from where he's helping Four hobble back to them.

“Great, because we all saw that thing with the peahat.”

“It was the only way!”

And here goes the bickering, Twilight huffs. Wild and Hyrule get along like a house on fire, which means that it's warm and toasty for a while until everything collapse into ashes for a bit. Then they rebuild it better and stronger than before with perfect coordination. It's impressive, honestly, how they both push in the same direction without a second thought.

At least this doesn't look like he'll need to turn into a wolf to fetch them in a forest on the other side of a mountain like last time (he's still bitter about it, a mountain?).

“Pup,” Time's voice jolts him back into awareness. His mentor's standing right behind him. “Come with me for a minute?”

For a second, he hesitates. He likes to imagine a thousand explanations for it, but he already knows the one. Sky shot him the odd look during the fight. Saw him sloppier than usual. And Time keeps an even closer look on all of them.

The clearing is just far enough to be away from prying eyes, though not far enough they can't hear the others if they pay attention. Both sides could hear and rush at the first sign of trouble. It's a good place for a talk.

“Twilight,” Time begins, voice brimming with concern, “what's wrong?”

“It's...”

Silence lingers between them, with all the things Twilight can't say.

“Does it have anything to do about Malon's pregnancy?” Time asks, and Twilight cringes. “Ah. I figured as much. Are you bothered?”

Twilight fights the flashback to one of those evenings Rusl took him aside for a fatherly talk. He feels about as small as he did back then too. “No, of course not! It's... before, when I met Malon and saw you two didn't have kids, I realized you were safe. Every one of us is risking his life on this quest, but I could hold onto the idea that you'd live through, that it was impossible that you didn't because I'm here.”

“Were you not worried for my safety before this, Pup?” Time teases, a full on smirk on his face.

Twilight's face burns. “I, no, that's not it at all! It's just... Goddesses, I'm being silly.”

The hand that rests on his shoulder feels solid. Grounding. Like Time means to give him back some of that certainty through sheer force of will.

Twilight's relieved that it works on him.

“Pup, I promise I have no intention of dying and leaving Malon to raise our little hellion all on her own. I wouldn't do that to her.”

“Oh, right, the poor gal,” Twilight hears himself reply.

Time blinks. Then hooks his arm around Twilight's neck, an unholy glint in his good eye. “A youngster like you's too ignorant to mock your elders like this. But I suppose I should teach you.”

***

Time's few additions to the prank war ongoing inside their camps gives Twilight chills.

But he joins in the laughs with the rest of them.

And he almost forgets.

***

They have a lead on the object of their quest.

A location they must investigate. No guarantee, but reports seem promising.

It's hard not to get swept right in by his brothers' enthusiasms. He's found more family through this quest than he had ever hoped to get, but it's also been a mess of ambushes, lost directions and insufferable assholes (some of which, he loves because they're his pack, his siblings, his dad).

“I'll cut the fucker's balls right off!” Wind cheers, which gets nods from Legend and Wild, and winces from Sky and Warriors.

Twilight is more in the 'rip their throat out' camp, but he's also got a unique perspective on how to get personal with killing off your enemies.

(If their quest is to end, he will stand between any number of enemies so that his family returns home safe.)

***

The Temple of Souls.

A place of power, of memories. Deeds commemorated here. Statues of the various chosen heroes during their adventures. Honored and immortalized in stone.

Twilight hesitates before the one statue of a beast, and the imp riding its back. It's a testament to how much the other heroes helped him heal that he mostly feels nostalgia looking at his past. The pain, muted by Wild's enthusiasm or Four's more solemn amusement.

They search through the history of the Hero's Spirit together, with Warriors leading them. Their captain's light-hearted jester attitude's been replaced by his battlefield look. A strategist and a soldier, at the head of a battalion of legends. And yet, there's a tightness to his expression. Twilight gets why and he makes sure to stay close. The sorceress had been reformed, so this world's Zelda said. But the fear's longer lasting.

Time lingers near the statue of the Hero of Time. So do the others, with Warriors deciding to keep watch, since they clearly couldn't deal with the idea of Time having once been a child.

A little kid. Probably not even as tall as Colin or Talo. Twilight tries to imagine letting these two go on a quest to save Hyrule and his mind buckles in protest at the knowledge of what kind of monstrosities can crawl up from the darkest corners of Hyrule. Imagines them in the Arbiter's Ground, and he feels acute pain in his left hand, where he is gripping his sword's hilt so hard his knuckles turn white.

Hylia stole Time's childhood, but Twilight won't let her take his future.

***

They found the enemy.

It found them in return. Hyrule is the first to realize, and it's their wanderer's words that ring in their heads during the worst battle of their lives.

'Impaled by a shadow in my likeness. Everything I gave, he returned right back.'

Dark Link. The other side of the coin. The shadow of the Hero's Spirit, grown with each incarnation.

It is not an opponent for any one hero to take on anymore. Dark Link is the sum of every dark turns their minds have ever taken, every moment of fear, despair, anger. Every dirty trick. Every method of handling a sword. It reflects all nine of them, in turn and at once.

And it means that each one of them know a piece of Dark Link as intimately as the back of their hands.

The battle does not end quickly.

While most encounters with monsters last minutes at most and encounters with bosses sometimes stretch twice or thrice that, this battle goes on for what feels like lifetimes. There's not a thing Twilight knows that he doesn't see at some point in Dark Link's arsenal. He's forced to see his journey thrown back at him, and he only went on a single one.

(He loses both his shield and his sword midway through. Has to join in the sniping until that's destroyed. Breaks two more of Wild's weapons. Fought with fangs and claws till he desperately needed healing.)

They came prepared. Armed with every weapon they have. Overstocked with potions and blessings and fairies.

They're still all exhausted, wounded and little more than dead on their feet when Wild lands the apparent fatal blow with a shock arrow. Electricity dances on the shade, its face a mask of silent agony, and it stumbles, shape unsteady, and sinks back into nothing.

“Is it... is it over?” Wind asks, his shirt shredded and an ugly burn on his collarbone.

“Steady!” Warriors calls out. “It might be trying to trick us.”

They watch every corner of the room with the hard earned hatred of a difficult opponent. They're all on their last leg and they can't keep going much longer. The air's so thick with tension Twilight tastes it. His instinct's screaming at him. He knows, in his heart, that this is it.

(It might be why he looked.)

(None of the others have spent as much time as him watching shadows, longing for the way they might waver and twist and become a beloved companion.)

Time's shadow shouldn't be this inky black.

Time's grip on his sword is also looser than his shadow's.

Twilight breaks into a sprint.

For a long time, Twilight had no choice. No matter what, his old mentor couldn't die before he had children.

Somehow, he'd been naïve enough to find comfort in that. Since then, he's dreamed of Time holding his baby, happier than he had ever dared express before. The memories of years that aged his heart faster than his body no longer a burden in his quiet little corner of the world.

There still isn't a choice. Time must go back to his wife and child. Twilight won't accept any other outcome. He'll turn silly images conjured from his resting mind into rock solid visions of the future.

Time's shadow stands up.

Hyrule shouts a warning.

And the blade swings.

“TWILIGHT!”

The taste of copper washes over his tongue. Drips from the corner of his mouth.

He looks down. A blade's shadow is impaling him straight through the chest. And Dark Link's face splits into a savage grin. Triumphant.

Heat bleeds out of his wound too fast. Somehow, he's certain this isn't poison, or at least, the traditional kind. It's climbing up his limbs, through his torso, and squeezes as if it were the coils of a snake. There's something wild, uncontrolled to it. Malicious. Its embrace tightens. Tries to leave him helpless, paralyzed.

It's fine. More so than any other hero, he's used to darkness. Made it a tool for himself in the ways the others haven't dared. And he's suddenly so thankful for it. That it's him. His country doesn't need him anymore, not like Sky who needs to build it from the ground, not like Legend who can never step outside his doors without getting roped into saving another country, not like Hyrule who guards the secret of his royal family, not like Warriors who is working so damn hard to earn back trust and honor amongst his own, not like Wild who wants to serve his Zelda and pay back his past mistake.

He doesn't even have grand projects for the future, like discovering a new land with pirates, find a lost brother, or simply build a home with his wife.

He's just... a farmer who picked up a sword and had help at the right time. Even if he dies, he knows his friends in the resistance could still protect Hyrule in his stead. The kids can look after themselves and each other now. Queen Zelda has always been stronger than him. And Illia... he'll finally let Epona go back to her. He can only hope that will be enough.

Because here and now, he is needed one last time.

Dark Link snarls and grins and begins to pull back his sword.

Twilight's hand catches his wrist. Grips.

Dark Link flinches. Red eyes flickers between his wrist and Twilight's serene smile. The other hand lashes like a whip, dagger's shade aimed right at his face, but that one instead pierces through Twilight's palm. Closing fingers lock Dark Link's arm into place. Neither can escape the other now. For the first time, hesitation flashes on the doppelganger's face. Tilts into fear as it starts to struggle. Each movement is rough, violent and murder on Twilight's battered body. The thing's strength should scare him.

  Except Twilight learned to wrestle gorons for fun. He wins every time.

The others rally. He catches them rushing forward in the corner of his eyes.

It tries to slip inside his shadows, but Twilight remembers that trick too. He pulls back, welcomes the darkness and Dark Link's feet blur, fuse to the ground, to Twilight's own shadow. It's oddly fitting.

With a deadly chime, the biggoron sword sails over his shoulder and catches Dark Link's arm. It rams itself against Twilight, tries to stagger him, but his mentor's at his back now, and the battleworn heroes, his wronged family, repay their suffering with interest.

One skewering echoed eight times over. Every aspect of the Hero's Spirit stabbing at their inner darkness, fighting the demon that claimed their faults. It cannot escape this time. Its face shifts with every blow. From young to old to young again, a twin lost at birth. Bitter. Resentful. It's weak and faltering when at last, it becomes Twilight's.

With one last battle cry, Sky executes a point perfect great spin that slices straight through Dark Link's neck. Its head goes flying and dissolves before it hits the ground. The body remains longer. Some of it clings to Twilight, sinks into him. He might have worried about this eventually, but the black sword fades and his tunic become slick with blood.

Yeah... there's no coming back from that one.

Dark Mirrors had always been his greatest weakness. What set him on his journey, what broke him in the end, twice. He thinks... he thinks he managed to pick up the pieces well enough.

“Sorry, guys...” His attempt at a smile turn into a grimace of pain. “I don't think I can walk this off...”

“Hyrule! Heal him!”

Hyrule's corpse-like pallor is all the answer they need. The fight exhausted the last of his magic. He's still stumbling forward like he will put his own life into the spell if he needs it. Sky's the one to pull him back, looking sick.

Legend's bag is upturned over the floor, and three of them kneel amongst the items. Twilight notes with faint amusement that this time, their prickly veteran does not yell at them to be careful with his stuff. Rare items gathered through harrowing adventures just go flying on the sides, discarded as useless. He hopes none of them break. He'd hate that to be one of the last things Legend remember about him.

“Don't,” Twilight says, but it's too weak to get through his family's panic. “It's okay...”

Four, the one trying to help him stand, snaps at him. “Don't say that!”

“I-” His knees give out from under him. Four goes down with him.

“Twilight!”

The others snap their heads in their direction.

It takes one look at Time's face to realize what a fool he'd been. It's almost enough to make him regret it. But no, given another chance, he'd make the same decision over and over again.

“Please...” he tries to say, but it's lost in a gargle of copper and red.

The screaming worsens.

Will Time go to his grave with this on his mind? He can't. Twilight wants to beg him not to. Wants to explain. Free himself of the fear he's clung to for the months they traveled together. But his lungs refuse to cooperate, filling with blood. Every attempt to speak just pains him more and produces mere wheezes.

Not on my behalf, he thinks, a last jolt of strength going through him from frustration and fear and sorrow. He hates the knowledge he'll put his mentor to rest with false hope. That he'll move on, thinking that his training might save him from this fate.

(From Ganondorf, yes, always. Hyrule saved because of the old man. Always cursed not to be known for his heroism, wasn't he?)

High whistling notes edge the confines of his consciousness. Fast notes, frantic, played with the fervor of a dying man, and he almost chuckles thinking he has a much better understanding of this as darkness creeps on the corner of his eyes and heat leeches out of his wound.

He can't see Time anymore. Just vague outlines of all his brothers, the color of their cloaks and hair the best way he can distinguish them by now. Hands push down on his shoulders, lift him gently. Scarred hands. Strands of blonde hair tickle his face.

Wild.

“'M sorry...” he breathes out. Tears prick at his eyes, knowing how much this'll hurt his cub. His little brother who already bears the weight of so many deaths. “Not... f-f-au-lt. Swear,” he tries to sound stern, he really does.

He can't go to his grave otherwise. He'll stay alive just so Wild and Time and the others don't pick up the guilt.

Eh...

She did always call him an optimist.

He's probably in some dying dream, he sees hands the shades of her skin join Wild's, brush his hair away from his eyes. Liquid flames frame a face like hers. The mocking lilt of her voice is broken by a sob though. He's never heard that before.

He wishes he could stop the pain for all of them, but he's tired.

Maybe... maybe Hylia granted him that one last favor. Maybe it's just him and his stupid heart that won't heal right, that makes him see what's not there...

He doesn't have the strength to do more than believe anyway.

“Midna...”

Tender warmth brush over his lips, one last little balm before he goes. It's gentle. So unlike her, so like her too. Eh. He always imagined they'd be cold.

***

Wild sees Twilight's eyes close, and his world snaps in half.

His brother slips from his arms, but thankfully, the woman's grip on him is steady. Familiar. It makes Twilight look at peace, as if he was sleeping in his lover's lap. It's something he always wished for his big brother, from the moment he heard that joke about a princess and a mirror. To have someone who loved him worth the pain he'd gone through.

And he only gets it in death.

It can't end this way. It can't! Mipha! he grapples with the thought and it wins. “MIPHA! PLEASE!”

She'd healed him from the brink so many times. Twilight's even more of a hero than him, so it would only be fair, right? Just this once. Just this once. He can't lose someone else because of his incompetence!

But Mipha has long gone to rest, and no one disturbs their group of heroes from their loss.

Wild feels himself scrap at his old hood, pushes it down over his head. As if that would stop reality from sinking in. He can't look at Twilight's body. He can't. He just wants to wake up in the shrine, like nothing ever happened. Like he hasn't watched-

“It was you!” Warriors snarls at the woman, his tone as biting as a sword's kiss. “All this time! It was you that broke his heart! He said he lost you, but you just left, didn't you?! You could have gone back to him!”

The strange woman – Midna – finally turns away from Twil- from... she turns to Warriors. Tears trail down her cheeks despite the faintest hint of a smile. “I always hoped he would forget me, the sweet fool.”

It's spoken with the sort of affection in one of Twilight's hair ruffling, but the insult feels searing. Wind's on her the next second.

“Don't you dare call him that!” he howls in her face, the shout less intimidated by the snot and tears he can't hold in. “Don't you- Twilight's not- not...”

Somehow, Sky can move. He lifts Wind away from Midna. It breaks the teen's rage, and he curls into Sky's shoulders as if their chosen isn't crying himself.

“He was,” she says, and it strikes Wild that she is just like Twilight had said. Fierce. Powerful. And a bit cruel. Like a jewel barbed in thorns – even if she'd laugh at the description. “It could have been different, if he hadn't been who he was. But he would always make this choice. You know this.”

Memories come to Wild, unbidden, of days in his Hyrule, where the only one he could count on was himself and a wolf. Hordes chasing a beast whilst he picked them off one by one. Enormous monsters fell side by side with his friend. Cold nights buried in fur. Panicked barks getting closer to him as he struggled to stand in the middle of a battlefield.

Goddesses...

The music – when, who, had started, – breaks into a horrible screech that should never come out of an instrument. It's half scream. Half something shattering.

“Why isn't it working?!” Time croaks, hands trembling around his broken ocarina.

“That power was only ever borrowed,” Midna says as if every syllable costs her. “The price would be too high.”

Legend is the next one to move from sorrow to rage. “No! We'll do it again!” He kneels by his bags and he's tossing aside items by the dozens.  “We didn't come all this way for this!”

“You did,” Midna's voice falters. “And so did I. It was always meant to end like this.”

An horrible sinking feeling seizes Wild's heart. “You... knew?”

They freeze.

Midna looks down at Twilight's face and brushes a strand of hair away from his markings. “At the very end of our adventures, I was spared by the Goddess. Salvaged, maybe, from the ruins of forbidden power and the home of my dearest friend. Hylia spoke to me then. Told me.”

Wild sees her chest shudder before her voice breaks.

“Told me that Link and I would only be reunited on the day of his death. That I'd be the one to take his last breath. It was the only way Hyrule could be safe.”

“Fuck Hyrule!” Legend shouts, hoarse. “What is the point-? Every time! F-fuck this kingdom and fuck Hylia! What about us?! Why does she hate us so much?!”

Legend's arms fall to the sides, his grief spent. He stares at his feet and doesn't react when his successor hugs him tight. Warriors gets his other side.

Wild feels numb. He had done his best the first time around, to believe that Hylia wanted the best even when she let his Zelda suffer through her silence. He thought, maybe, her late answer had a purpose. But he can't figure it out. A kingdom she claimed to protect, destroyed before she helped.

His chest hurts. He can't breath right.

Ahead, the air tears with a jarring noise and a burst of black particles. He can't help the flare of hope they bring, the very same magic that Twilight used to become a wolf. But his brother's not moving. Midna's arm is raised toward the black portal.  

“No, no!” Time finally breaks out of his paralysis, reaching out for Twilight's body. “You can't take him!”

“I'm sorry,” she whispers. “I don't have much time left. I must bring him back to his village. I owe him that much.”

None of them stop her from walking back into the shadows, their lost brother in her arms.

***

The greatest threat to their world has finally been defeated. Months of hardship, over. The purpose for which Hylia assembled them, fulfilled. It should have been heralded by a feast, a last evening together before the final goodbyes. The weight of their mission should have been lifted, but now it won't leave them.

They try.

They find the seediest tavern, in the darkest corner of town. They are not looking for a celebration. They want to drown the sorrow in something less painful than grief, be it a bar fight, a hangover or a round of the bard's singing.

All eight of them around a table, nine drinks before them. A toast.

Unshed tears.

Stories. All those times Twilight played big brother to them. Tried to be the reasonable one even when he was smirking under his wolf pelt. Those games of cards he won the pants off Warriors, literally. Those times he teased Legend with his incomprehensible slangs (they'd never know what that one about goat horns mean, would they?). Those nights they woke bundled up under a wolf. Those days he would spend at their bedside, caring for injuries he sniffed out better than most.

They call up more drinks, left the ninth alone, and pour their soul into making themselves almost believe he was still alive. That Midna had taken his sleeping body back where he'd finally get to be in love with her.  

For the time of a few laughs, it works. Then they look at the empty seat.

“He died.” Time drops his head into his hands, smaller than they'd ever seen him before. “Twilight died, and I wasn't even holding him! I was playing that goddess-curse ocarina! He told me! He told me he would die for me and I didn't listen!”

“He would have died for any of us,” Warriors says, weakly. “Just like we would have died for him.”

At the end of the night, when they stumble out, unsteady, Wild picks up the ninth drink and empties it outside.

***

The arrow's tip strikes one eye and detonates.

Cracks in the stone spread a little further. But the statue is still standing. It waited for him when he came back. Here. The only thing still standing in the ruins of the temple. Where his first journey began.

He can't hear her voice as he did before. He has no crest to offer, no proof of his valor to receive a blessing. Even now, the thought makes him want to hurl. To carve out the gifts he'd received from the monster that parades as a goddess right out of his chest.

“Why?!” Wild screams at the unfeeling block of stone.

The damage reaches the statue's middle, and a chunk tears off. A piece of her cloak. Dust follows. He shoots another bomb arrow. Almost grins to see a piece of her hair fly off.

“Why? Why WHYWHYWHY?!”

Fingers close on air. He's emptied his quiver.

Glowing bomb runes materialize in his hands, and he can barely wait out the cooldown time between each new explosion.

He switches to a club.

“Why him?!” He wails at the stone. “Why was it him?! Why not me?!”

The shout drains the last of his strength. With a sob, he falls to his knees.

“You did this to him! You killed my brother!” he spits every inch of venom that's making his chest heave, that burns his eyes and that opened this gaping hole inside him. “Why did you do that?! You're supposed to be good! Everyone told me you protect Hyrule! But you don't! You just send the same mortal do your job over and over again! And now he's... he's DEAD! What's the point of you?!”

“Link!”

Zelda's voice.

It rubs his skin raw that she sounds so happy. She should be disgusted to see such a worthless hero! She should have left him to die in that field!

She stops by the broken entrance to the Temple of Time, her gaze flickering to the statue, to his sorry state. The ecstatic looks vanishes and a far more fitting sadness replaces it.

“Link...?”

For a frightening moment, he thinks he's going to hate her. Hate Zelda for what she represents. He thinks he won't be able to look at her without knowing what she is. That there'll always be a voice in the back of his mind telling him she shares her soul with the unfeeling thing that lead his brother to his death.

“What happened?” she asks, gentle.

“T-Twilight... he's... ”

The club hits the ground.

Zelda closes her arms around him, and he clings to her like she's going to disappear.

***

“It's a boy!”

The wisewoman presents the small squirming body to Time.

Wisps of strawberry blonde hair crown his son's mostly naked head. Not dark enough to be...

He banishes the thought from his head. It's unfair. It's cruel. He can't compare them. His son. His son, he repeats to himself when the little bundle shifts against the inside of his elbow. Malon was right. That button nose is far cuter than his.

He's perfect.

His heart is threatening to jump right out of his chest. He doesn't think he can express all the love he has for this little hylian boy properly. He doesn't think it's possible to love anyone that much. For years, he'd feared a pauper's grave, a hole on the side of the road. A monster getting lucky at last and no one to mourn him. And now he was holding his firstborn child.

Malon had pushed past that fear and the walls he'd built around his heart. Twilight had shown him without a doubt he could have a family.

Twilight had...

It could have been different. But he would always make this choice.

Always choose to save Time at the last possible moment. For Malon. For their son.

Time dabs the corner of his eyes, and loses himself in the feeling of his son's skin against his own. He's so lucky to be able to hold him. To kiss the top of his head. To look at the beauty of his wife and child together. He doesn't know if he deserves it. Doesn't feel like he does anymore. But he can't throw it away. The price was so high. He wants every moment spent well. A full life to shower his child with love, for all the children he might have on the ranch.

I promised you.

Twilight is his successor, his son. A strong, kind young man that died too soon for Time's mistake. If he'd been stronger, if any of them had been a little stronger, perhaps...

He's never resented the lack of recognition over his deeds so ardently before. Never felt the bitterness take root this deep. Everything he was, everything he did, forgotten, lost. Accounts of his deeds, his prowesses, gone. Sword techniques. Tricks. Items. Twilight had been a farmer before Hylia had pushed his fate onto him. How could his own descendant have nothing of Time's knowledge and treasures passed down to him? If he had...  

On the Triforce, he swears. He will pass on everything he knows to his children and his grandchildren after them, make them promise to perpetuate that tradition, so that Twilight might live longer. He couldn't fail him again.

He swears.

He will do anything to help Twilight survive their last quest.

In this world or the next.

[loserswin2]

A Matter of Timing (Jerza)

Read on FF or AO3

Erza felt that Jellal had the uncanny ability to always reach her side just in time. So the fact that now of all times is when he decides to be late is quite amusing to her. Or the fic where Jellal is late to witness the birth of not one but two of his children.

“Why don’t you rest for a bit? Today’s been very tiring for you.” Makarov made a motion for Erza to lean back onto the bed. She complied with his request but her eyes did not stray from the tiny bassinet near the bed.

“Did Warren manage to reach him?” She reached out to drag the bassinet as close as possible to the bed and she relaxed when her two sleeping babies entered her line of sight.

“Yes. Jellal is trying to get back as fast as possible. It doesn’t help that the client is being difficult.” Makarov gave an angry huff. “Mirajane is asking other guilds if they’ve worked with the client before filling out a letter of complaint to send to the Council. The client’s request was out of line and should have never been given to the guild.” What had been a simple escort mission that should have finished in two days had turned into a complicated mess. She didn’t know all the details and all she really cared about was that it had taken her husband away from her when she needed him most.

Erza bit her lip. It wasn’t entirely the client’s fault. Jellal had been reluctant to leave her side, especially this late in her pregnancy, and was initially going to refuse the request but she had insisted he take it. It was rare for clients to request Jellal’s aid as there were still some people who weren’t convinced he had earned his pardon. After several assurances that she would be fine as members of the guild would be on hand to check on her and that there wasn’t much to worry about as her due date was a month away, he left for his mission.

She knew something was wrong when he didn’t call home to check in. He always checked in, even if a mission was only going to take a day to complete. She felt he did that to remind himself that he had her to come home to now and that the life they’ve built together is not a dream but a reality.

Makarov had sent Meredy, Erik, and Sawyer to go to the town the mission was located in and everyone was unsettled when they were able to send a quick report back that the town was surrounded by a barrier that blocked people from entering and from communicating with those outside the town. They were positive Jellal was inside though as Erik had been partially able to hear Jellal’s thoughts. It had been a week since that report and the unease in Erza’s gut hadn’t settled.

It wasn’t uncommon for missions to run into complications and to take longer than usual but ever since Erza and Jellal had gotten together, they rarely, if ever, took long missions. Erza hadn’t ever thought of herself as a clingy person before but the fear that the universe would find a way to tear them apart again had her seeking shorter missions so she could quickly return to his side. She knew he felt the same and that the fear would never go away.

A whimper from the bassinet broke her out of her thoughts. She looked over to see one of the babies with a disgruntled look on his face which quickly went away when she reached out a hand to stroke his face to calm him. She softly smiled when the baby quieted down and turned to face his brother. She hadn’t had the time to process the shock of twins as her mind had been completely distracted by the pain of labor.

“I have to say, Erza,” Makarov’s voice was hushed but filled with warmth, “You and Jellal have made some adorable children.” He peered closer into the bassinet and said with a laugh, “Even if they did come rather early.”

She blushed. She knew he was referring to the fact that twins were born earlier than singletons but a part of her knew that he and the rest of the guild still made jokes about how quickly Erza had gotten pregnant. She and Jellal quietly married soon after her team had finished the 100-year quest and settled into a modest house on the outskirts of Magnolia. A few weeks later, they had found out that Erza was pregnant after she uncharacteristically burst into tears in the guildhall after Natsu had made a remark on her strange new eating habits. After seeing Porlyusica and breaking the news to the guild, everyone made sly remarks about now knowing why the two of them were never at the guildhall anymore but it didn’t distract from the sheer joy Jellal and Erza radiated at the prospect of starting a family.

“I’ll go inform the rest of the guild that we now have two new Fairy Tail members.” Makarov began making his way to the door. Only he, Wendy, and Porlyusica had been in the infirmary with her and she had refused to allow anyone else to see her children before Jellal did. She was surprised that none of the members had tried to force their way inside and figured that they were all behaving for once. Though it could also be that they were still terrified of an Erza ruled by pregnancy hormones. “Warren might have some more news on where your husband is.”

“Thank you, Master.” Erza gave a small bow before sitting back on the bed. Wendy had healed her earlier but she was still absolutely exhausted.

“Please get some rest, Erza. You know Jellal always finds his way back to you,” Makarov said before leaving. Though Makarov had tried to reassure her, Erza’s worry would only disappear once Jellal was by her side. The silence in the room only served to remind her that he wasn’t.

She turned to the bassinet and remembered what had transpired only a few hours ago. She’d endured many painful experiences in her lifetime but nothing could have prepared her for the pain of childbirth. It had felt worse with Jellal’s absence though her tears of pain had turned to tears of joy once her children were placed in her arms. Their hair shared the same shade of blue as Jellal and when they had briefly opened their eyes earlier, she saw they had her brown eyes. After briefly being looked over by Wendy and Porlyusica and declared perfectly healthy, they slept peacefully in the bassinet and hadn’t woken up since.

“Your father is running a bit late,” she whispered to the twins. “He’s usually not like this. He’s much more punctual than I am.” If Erza was to compare all her failures, she knew a majority of them were caused by her tardiness.

She had been too late to save Jellal from being brainwashed.

She had been too late in figuring that Siegrain and Jellal were the same.

She had been too late to stop Jellal from casting the self-destruction spell.

If she had been on time, maybe she could’ve spared them all the heartache. Whereas, Jellal’s timing, in her opinion, was much better.

He had arrived on time to save her from the dragons during the Eclipse Gate fiasco.

He had arrived on time to help liberate Hargeon Port from the Alverez forces.

He had arrived on time to save her and Wendy from Acnologia’s attack.

She knew if she were to tell these thoughts to her husband, he would disagree and insist that in the end, all that mattered was that they saved each other. That their mismatch in timing wasn’t something she should be concerned with and if anything, it meant they balanced each other out. Having a confident Jellal that was so positive about their future together was something she was still getting used to and reminded her of their time at the Tower, back when he was a bright-eyed boy and she a lost and confused girl who looked to him for strength. They’ve grown and changed since then but they were still quintessentially them and she was infinitely grateful that they found their way back to each other.

“I guess it’s only fair that he’s late this time since I’m so early. He can’t always be perfect,” she amusedly remarked. She recalled the few times a drunk Lucy and Levy had told her how lucky she was for having such a perfect husband and had wisely refrained from telling them all the stupid things Jellal has done.

She was content to just stare at her children until he arrived and she perked up when she felt the trace of his Meteor spell outside the window. He must’ve sped past everyone in the guild because in the next moment he was opening the door.

“Erza.” His eyes quickly looked her over before they were glued to the bassinet in front of her. From where he was standing, she knew he couldn’t see the babies. She felt the uneasiness in her gut disappear as she scanned him from head to toe and saw that he was alright aside from the minor cut on his forehead.

“You’re here.” She wanted to get up and go to him but she didn’t have the energy. He seemed to read her mind as he went to go wash his hands in the sink near the door before quickly making his way toward her. When he was close to the bed, she rushed into his arms and he held her tightly.

“I’m sorry for taking so long.” She didn’t realize she was trembling until she registered his hand running up and down her back to soothe her. “Are you okay?”

She pulled herself together and nodded. “I am now.” She leaned back and pressed her lips to his in a kiss that she hoped would convey the sheer mess of emotions that rattled inside of her since his departure. She ended the kiss before it could get out of hand like it usually did when one of them came back from a mission and muttered, “You missed a lot. Come meet your children.”

“Wha--” She laughed at how speechless Jellal was at seeing not one, but two babies in the bassinet.

She reached out to take his hand and gently stroked his palm while she explained. “Wendy kept hearing echoes of a heartbeat but didn’t think that could mean I was having twins. She’s really sorry about making the mistake and offered to babysit them whenever we want. We should probably take her up on that offer sometime. I’ve been told that twins are a handful.”

He grabbed both of her hands and stared at her with tears streaming down his face. She would never get tired of being able to see the love that shone freely from his eyes. “Erza, I…thank you,” he choked out.

She felt herself tearing up as well. She murmured, “I should be saying that to you.” They stared at each other for a few moments longer, hearts full of gratitude and love. They had taken a long and painful road to get to where they were now but it was fine as it brought them here. “Do you want to hold them?” she asked, freeing a hand to wipe the tears from his cheeks. He nodded and she arranged his arms in the correct position to hold them.

Once she safely deposited both babies into his arms, he whispered, “They’re so small.”

She rearranged the babies’ blankets, making sure they were covered and warm, and said, “Porlyusica said they’re the right size for twins and for being born early. They’re healthy as well so there’s nothing to worry about there. And it’s a good thing we couldn’t decide between those two boy names because now we can use both.”

He chuckled, probably remembering when she would spend a whole day declaring one name to be perfect for their child before deciding the next day that the other name was the better choice. “I do love that they have my hair color but I kind of wish they had yours.”

“Maybe the next one will.” Though Erza had grown up with the guild and Jellal had grown up with the people at the Tower, they had still largely kept to themselves and basically grew up alone. They decided they wanted a large family and that their children would never know what it was like to be alone and unloved.

“I’m still sorry I was late and missed everything. I promised to hold your hand forever at our wedding, remember?”

“I think I would’ve broken your hand. Labor was awful.”

“It would have been worth it.”

She hummed in agreement and looked down at the babies who had begun to squirm in Jellal’s hold. “Besides, you weren’t late at all.”

He gasped as the twins both opened their eyes to see their father for the first time.

“I think our sons will agree with me and say you came back like you always do, right on time.”