#and be very long-suffering about it like ugh i HATE that you put this burden on me but he ends up being equally as codependent on mac

[onawhimsicot]

it would be so niche and i dont even know what id put in it, but ive finally finished listening to the blazing babe arc of naddpod + the short rests and im so tempted to like write the most terrible romance between mavrus and mac. i just think they could be even more worse for each other, their friendship is so toxic in canon and their romance would be even more so and thats why they should kiss about it imho peace and love on planet earth <333

[kurowrites]

Aviophobia

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

---

It wasn’t like Wei Ying particularly hated air travel, not at all. After all, it was still the most practical way to travel long distances, and the distance between China and Europe was definitely long. The problem was that though he had just sat down in his seat, he was already horrifically bored. The airplane hadn’t even finished boarding yet, and there were around ten hours of flight still in front of him, and he couldn’t wait to arrive at his destination already.

He wasn’t looking forward to the flight, not least because he didn’t actually want to leave. After a year of not seeing her, Wei Ying had finally been able to take some time off and visit his sister, who had been living abroad with her stupid, loaded husband. He’d spent two weeks with Jiang Yanli and his little nephew, and it had been so good to see them again. A-Ling had grown so much! But now, a lot of work was waiting for him back at home, and he really needed to return, not sure when they would be able to meet the next time. That, he definitely wasn’t happy about.

Wei Ying distractedly fidgeted around in his seat, trying to keep in mind that it was no use to take out his laptop now, because the flight attendants would ask him to pack it up again for take-off in a few minutes. He had taken a book with him, anticipating this situation, but right now, the book seemed so unappealing he couldn’t even be bothered to unpack it from his backpack.

Come on, he mentally urged the passengers who were still moving along the aisles in search of their seat like a group of very slow snails, move faster, so we can leave.

Despite his best efforts, the other passengers did not speed up their pace, and so Wei Ying was cursed to sit there and wait until everyone was seated. He tried not to notice the usual offenders that managed to get in everyone’s way and blocked everything with their luggage, and tried to relax (rather unsuccessfully).

As he was idly watching the passengers pass him by, he caught a flash of white that caught his attention. Just when he was sure that his eyes were playing a trick on him, a man in a pristine white suit separated from the crowd and sat down right next to him. He pushed his briefcase under the front seat, fastened his seat belt, nodded to Wei Ying once, and then directed his glance straight forward, turning into a beautiful marble statue.

Wei Ying tried not to stare at his new neighbour too conspicuously, but he couldn’t really help it. The man seemed to be horribly out of place here in economy class, with a tailor-made white suit that very obviously was of high quality and therefore very expensive. His face equally set him apart from the other passengers, with a noble look and a bone structure that looked more suited to the cover of a fashion magazine. Wei Ying, in a simple hoody, soft jacket, and old jeans that were selected specifically for comfort purposes (after all, he would have to vegetate in them for ten hours), wondered how this unicorn had gotten lost among the common folk.

His seatmate was incredibly handsome, obviously wealthy, and… extremely stiff.

When the flight attendant finally announced that boarding had been completed, and that they were waiting for permission to proceed to the runway, the man next to him put his hands on both armrests, and for a second, Wei Ying was ready to be offended that this man hogged all the armrests for himself without consideration for the other passengers.

Then he noticed the man’s knuckles going white, his hands holding on to the armrests as if…

Wei Ying looked at the man’s face again. He was still staring straight ahead, his handsome face expressionless, his breath deep and controlled.

His eyes were fixed at some indeterminate point in the distance, and their focus did not waver at all.  

And they weren’t even moving yet.

Oh dear, Wei Ying thought to himself. Someone is not a fan of flying, huh.

He knew that a lot of people probably wouldn’t appreciate his meddling, but then again, he couldn’t sit there and do nothing while his neighbour was counting breaths or whatever the fuck he was doing to calm himself down. He wasn’t going to sit next to this man for the next several hours and pretend that he didn’t notice that this person was very obviously panicking.

So he reached out, and carefully put his own hand over the one currently clutching at their shared armrest.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said, as quietly as he could. “You’re not alone, and you’re going to be fine.”

The man sucked in a shocked breath the moment Wei Ying touched him.

Wei Ying was ready to draw back and apologise for his unrequested interference, Maybe he shouldn’t have touched him, maybe he had misread–

The hand under his turned around and grasped his own, holding him fast.

“I apologise,” the stranger replied in a faint tone of voice. “For my unseemly display.”

Wei Ying laughed quietly, relief washing over him.

“It’s alright,” he replied conversationally. “We all have our little burdens to carry. As for me, I am deadly afraid of dogs, and I will jump into your arms when I see one. Not that I have much shame to begin with, but my fear of dogs is definitely bigger than any shame I might have. There will be screaming and a general amount of unnecessary, very ugly drama.”

That, finally, had the stranger remove his gaze from the undetermined point in the distance he had settled on, and he turned towards Wei Ying.

Wow.

Wei Ying had been woefully underprepared for this event. The man was even more handsome, facing him directly, and Wei Ying was sure he had never seen such beautiful eyes.

How, he wondered again, had this man ended up in economy class? He should be flying a private plane, not panicking next to Wei Ying on a commercial flight. He should be someone’s trophy husband.

“Dogs?” the man asked him, as if a fear of dogs wasn’t an entirely normal phobia to have.

“Yes,” Wei Ying replied earnestly. “Have you seen them? So fast, and they make so much noise all the time, and their teeth. Ugh. It’s a completely rational fear to have!”

By now, the plane had moved onto the runway, and was starting the jets up.

The man clutched at Wei Ying’s hand almost painfully as the plane started to vibrate, but surprisingly, he did not look away from Wei Ying, steadily holding Wei Ying’s gaze.

“Well, so is a fear of flying, I guess,” Wei Ying mused as the airplane began to move. “But think about this: it’s far more likely to get mauled by a dog than to get involved in a plane accident. There are dogs everywhere, and you never know when one is going to come around a corner! And some owners really don’t know to handle their dogs. So, you see. My fear is much more rational than yours. Also, I did get mauled by several dogs in the past, you know. It’s not even a theoretical fear for me, I know exactly what those bastards are capable of. Dogs are horrible. Not to mention that it’s too late to do anything about your fear now, anyway. Look. We’ve taken off.”

The man kept clutching his hand and stared at him without replying. Wei Ying didn’t know if he even heard anything Wei Ying had said, what with the noise and the pressure in their ears. But the stranger never looked away, and he never let go of Wei Ying’s hand, so that was good, he thought.

Eventually, when the airplane had gained enough height to level off slightly, and the pressure on the diminished, his handsome neighbour finally let out a deep breath and turned his gaze away.

Wei Ying felt almost disappointed to be relieved of the heavy weight of his gaze.

As he had said, the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen.

“Ridiculous,” his neighbour murmured, eventually, after a long period of silence.

Wei Ying laughed.

“Hello Ridiculous,” he greeted, shaking their still-connected hands playfully. “My name is Wei Ying.”

The man’s head whipped around, and he sent him a positively offended look.

And then, after a beat of silence, he said,

“Lan Zhan.”

---

It needed some careful prodding and digging, but eventually, Wei Ying found out that Lan Zhan the reason why Lan Zhan was on this plain at all was because he had taken over the business trip as a favour to his older brother, who had been unable to travel.

Wei Ying felt the need to tease him for his self-sacrificing sense of familial piety, but he didn’t quite dare to tease Lan Zhan about it. After all, Lan Zhan had done a good thing, at the cost of his own suffering.

Lan Zhan was already bad enough when it came to flying as it was, but then someone had made a mistake with the booking, and he had been booked to fly economy rather than business class on his return trip. Lan Zhan, already at the airport and very troubled by the notion of having to fly, period, had not had the energy to discuss the mistake in his booking and decided to keep his assigned seat. After all, it hardly made any difference whether he was flying business or economy. He would spend the entire flight terrified, either way.

“Well, it was very lucky you ended up choosing economy,” Wei Ying mused. “Now you have a free emotional support pet for the entire flight.”

He grinned cheekily and wiggled Lan Zhan’s hand, still safely encased in his own.

Lan Zhan frowned at the joke.

“I thank you,” he replied regardless. “It is… much easier with you here. But I do not wish to trouble you with my… unfortunate condition.”

What a polite, honest man!

Wei Ying was delighted.

“It’s no trouble at all! You saved me from hours and hours of boredom, so it’s really not just you that’s profiting from this. Are you going to be fine when I have to go to the bathroom though?”

Lan Zhan frowned again, but nodded once.

“Good, good,” Wei Ying praised. “And if you wait for me very nicely, I’m going to get us some snacks from the kitchen. They never bring out the chocolate, which is a crime, really.”

---

In the end, after Wei Ying wheedled out information about Lan Zhan’s job and life for what felt like hours, Lan Zhan managed to relax enough to doze off for a little bit, and they spent the rest of their flight in a repeating pattern of chatting, dozing off, and then being woken up to be served questionable airplane meals.

When they finally touched down at their destination (Lan Zhan once again clutching Wei Ying’s hand as if it was the only lifeline that he had – and Wei Ying trying not to be too happy about that), they took their carry-on luggage and slowly ambled out of the plane, moving towards the baggage claim with the rest of the passengers.

Lan Zhan, as soon as he was out of the airplane and on solid ground again, straightened up and took on a confident stance.

Wei Ying was a little bit in awe. He looked even more handsome and formidable now, in his still pristine white suit. He was even taller than Wei Ying had first thought, definitely taller than Wei Ying, and Wei Ying mused whether there was anything about this man that wasn’t awe-inspiring.

(Well, there was that small case of aviophobia, but who could blame him for that, really.)

Wei Ying felt his hand twitch, and he sternly told himself that it was silly to wish for them to continue holding hands, now that they were out of the plane.

“Well,” he said awkwardly as he grabbed his luggage off the conveyor belt. He wasn’t quite willing to say his goodbyes yet, but he was equally unable to think of any reason to hold on to Lan Zhan’s company for a little longer. “I had a good time on our flight, Lan Zhan. Well. I guess you don’t really want to hear that. You probably had a horrible time. For your sake, I hope that you won’t come close to any planes for a while.”

“Wei Ying, too,” Lan Zhan replied. “For your sake, I hope that you will not meet any dogs suddenly coming around corners. So that you don’t have to leap into anyone’s arms.”

Wei Ying gaped, and as he stared at Lan Zhan in disbelief, he noticed the smallest uptick of Lan Zhan’s lips.

“Ayoo!” he cried. “Lan Zhan, are you teasing me? Look at you, all confident now that you are back on solid ground! Be a little more grateful to your emotional support pet!”

Lan Zhan nonchalantly picked his (very small, compared to Wei Ying’s big, lumpy one) suitcase up from the conveyor belt, and placed it next to his feet.

“I am grateful,” Lan Zhan said, serious again. “I have a car waiting for me outside. You are welcome to join me. I will drop you off anywhere in the city. As a sign of my gratitude.”

“Mmm,” Wei Ying made a considering noise. He didn’t want to say goodbye yet, not when Lan Zhan made him such a nice offer. But then, he was also really hungry.  

“I would love to get chauffeured around, but to be honest, I was planning on getting some decent coffee and a nice breakfast somewhere first. The food in that plane was horrible and I’m not functional without decent coffee.”

Lan Zhan was quiet for a moment.

“Can you wait for half an hour?”

“Huh?”

But before Wei Ying could ask him to elaborate, Lan Zhan was already herding Wei Ying towards the exit. He somehow managed to argue Wei Ying into accepting the car ride (Lan Zhan didn’t even argue, how that worked, Wei Ying sure didn’t know), and then Lan Zhan drove him to the nicest little shop for the most delicious breakfast that Wei Ying could have possibly wished for.

He was ravenous by the time they arrived, but he definitely wasn’t in a mood to complain as soon as the first delicious whiff of fresh coffee and food met his nose in welcome.

Lan Zhan was very attentive as they sat down to eat, generously plying Wei Ying with coffee, and letting him pick all his favourite foods. Wei Ying also learned that when Lan Zhan wasn’t scared for his life, he was remarkably smart and funny. It was so easy to get comfortable with him that Wei Ying had a hard time believing that they had never met until just one day ago.  

Lan Zhan was fun.

“Lan Zhan, you’re joking,” Wei Ying laughed, playfully swatting at Lan Zhan’s arm. “Your first serious family fight was because of rabbits?”

“They were very cute,” Lan Zhan replied seriously, insistent on the point.

Wei Ying leaned forward eagerly, meeting Lan Zhan’s serious mien with a big grin.

“And then, what happened with them?” Wei Ying asked. “Did your uncle cook them in a pot? Were you forced to eat rabbit stew?”

“The fourth generation now lives in my back garden.”

Wei Ying gasped. “You kept them?”

Lan Zhan showed the barest twitch of his lips. “Of course.”

Wei Ying nearly slid under the table at the sight of Lan Zhan’s proud little smile.

If Lan Zhan was trying to seduce him, then Wei Ying would consider himself sufficiently seduced by now.

Goodness gracious, that smile was criminal!

And he was the proud owner of a hoard of rabbits!

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan,” he sighed, shaking his head. “You are a veritable little rebel. But, speaking from one pet to another, there is no way you can only tell me about your rabbits and not show them to me. That would be very rude.”

And on Wei Ying’s request, Lan Zhan took out his phone and showed Wei Ying his rabbit children. And then, since he had his phone out already, he shared his contact with Wei Ying. And when they had finished their breakfast, Lan Zhan led him back to the car and drove him home to his apartment, as promised.

When Wei Ying opened the door of the parked car, ready to hop out Lan Zhan stopped him.

“Thank you, Wei Ying,” he said, his beautiful, serious eyes gazing at Wei Ying steadily, as he had done in the plane. “For your help.”

Wei Ying laughed, and rubbed his nose.

God, he really liked the way that Lan Zhan looked at him.  

“For what it’s worth,” he replied quickly, “I’m willing to be Lan Zhan’s emotional support pet anytime.”

And then, because he felt like was too presumptuous and said too much, he hopped out of the car, grabbed his luggage, and weaselled away, to the safety of his apartment.

Once the door of the apartment was closed and his luggage thrown into a corner, he took a deep breath. He dug his phone out of his jacket to inform Jiang Yanli of his save arrival. She was probably wondering why he hadn’t sent her a message yet.

When he unlocked the phone, as expected, there was a message from his sister, asking him if he had arrived safely. However, before he could send a reply, his phone pinged with another message. A message not from Jiang Yanli.

[Lan Zhan, 11.46 am] I’ll take you by your word, Wei Ying. I might have to rely on your services again.

Suddenly, Wei Ying was glad that no one could see him here, hiding behind the door of his own apartment, as he blushed as red as a tomato.

This man!

[alicemitch09writes]

skinny love

pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x reader

summary: 6 months later. Was he too late?

author’s notes: This is a direct sequel to first love and part of a trilogy also aptly named ‘first love’ ugh, i am so unoriginal. Please go read that first before this, otherwise you’ll be confused.

also available on ao3.

disclaimer: i own NOTHING but the plot.

His feet feel like lead as he trudged to the vending machine, adamant on getting coffee. It was only Monday. The smallest sounds of coin drops and beeps were making his head hurt.

Taking his first sip of his coffee, he walked around the quiet halls.

He hated hospitals.

Actually, they weren't that bad, having everything it needed to cater to the patient's needs. But it was a façade to their impending doom. And he hated it. Hated the way doctors and nurses would say with practiced ease that everything will be alright – when it won't.

They mean well, they really do, but they were a painful reminder of how fragile life was – how easy it can be taken away.

Reaching Room #423, he turned the knob, finding (Name) in the same state she's been the past six months. The door shuts quietly behind him, back resting against it.

"Tetsu, have you been eating?"

He could almost hear her voice, filled with worry of how thin he is. She always did that, nagging him like a mom to eat if he wanted to win. Funny she thought that, thinking more of his (and the team's) welfare's than her own. (Name) was always that kind.

Instead, the image of that beautiful girl was replaced with one lying on the hospital bed – limp and lifeless.

(Name) didn't belong here, not in this hospital nor in that bed she was lying in. No.

She deserved to be home, in her room surrounded by her instruments, fussing herself with her studies, that new song she wanted to learn, or managing a pack of rowdy boys.

He didn’t know how long he just stood there before he heard a knock at the door. Lazily turning his body, he opened the door; his actions seemed robotic, staring at two familiar faces.

"Hey man," Bokuto greeted, balloons in different colors and shapes (there was one in the shape of an owl) in hand, worry in his eyes. "Wow, you look like shit."

"Thanks." He said, taking a sip of his coffee.

"That wasn't very nice, Bokuto-san." Akaashi scolded, appearing behind the salt-and-pepper-haired teen with flowers in his hands.

Too tired to argue, he stepped aside, letting them in. Closing the door behind him, he watched the two eyeing the unconscious girl, hearing Bokuto sighing while Akaashi dutifully went straight for the vase, intending to replace the flowers.

He plopped down on his seat, canned coffee still in hand.

"But seriously man," Bokuto called, tying the balloons next to the side table. "you look terrible."

Kuroo closed his eyes, exhaling through his nose.

"When was the last time you went out?"

"Bokuto-san." Akaashi called in warning, appearing from the toilet with a vase filled with clean water.

"I'm serious!" Kuroo draped an arm over his eyes as if to hide the bags underneath. "Dude, you barely left since. Day in, day out, you're here but never at home. Nowhere else but here. You even ditched your first year of college!"

"I won't want to leave her," Kuroo said, still not moving from his spot.

Bokuto frowned at his friend, arms crossed. "I'm not saying that you should, I'm saying (Name)-chan wouldn't like to see you this way."

(Name).

Sighing, Kuroo slumped forward, arms propped on his knees, staring at the sterile ground.

"We're just worried about you, Kuroo."

That must be the umpteenth time someone's told him that – his mom, his dad, his older sister, Kenma, Coach Nekomata, the team. But still, his resolve won't change.

Taking a long sip, he met both stares from Bokuto and Akaashi, who had just finished with the flowers.

"I'm not leaving her." he said in finality, turning to the sleeping girl. There were a lot of things he wanted to tell her, a lot. And he wanted to be the first person she sees when she wakes up, the first person to see her wake.

Sighing exasperatedly, hands on his hips, Bokuto resigned. His friend was stubborn, but he had an iron resolve. "I know you won't. Figured as much."

"Then why do you still bother?"

Smirking at the raven-haired teen, he says with a shrug. "Because bro, you matter to me."

Kuroo put a hand to his heart, touched. "Bro."

"Bokuto-san just wanted to act cool every once in a while," Akaashi coolly said, opening the drapes. That earned a loud, familiar call from his former captain. Kuroo smiled, some things never change.

"But seriously dude, you could use a bath because you smell like shit."

Akaashi didn't need to scold him then as Bokuto received a (friendly) punch to the gut from Kuroo.

Six months.

That's how long he was suffering, how long he had been tortured by the mere thought of never seeing her smile again, of never hearing her laugh again, of never having her around again – of never seeing her again.

The word cancer stuck to his head was like a punch to the gut, pummeling him inside out with every step he took. Never mind the burning pain of his muscles from a day's worth of match, never mind finally giving their coach the chance to witness the 'Battle at the Dumps' match even though they lost, never mind that his high school life had officially come to an end – they didn't matter at this point. He just wanted to see her.

And the first time he saw her – dressed in a hospital gown, with tubes sticking to her body connected to machines that kept her alive, he was crushed. As if he were a porcelain doll smashed into a million pieces, each fragment breaking into smaller pieces.

He nearly broke down at the sight of her. She was beautiful as ever, yet to see her in that situation broke his heart.

(Name) had been operated; the chances of her survival were slim. But the only thing Kuroo could think was how small (Name) looked in that big, white bed.

Picking her hands, he noted how small they were – how he could practically see and feel her bones. Threading his finger through hers, he brought them to his cheek, relishing in her warmth. These were the same fingers that cared for him each time he'd earn a bruise or a scratch, the same hands that brushed his hair when he was sleepy – gentle touches that made him think that she was an angel. Slim fingers that did magic with every instrument she held.

He always knew she was small – fragile, even – but it only clicked to him now as to why that was the case. Ironic that he was the perceptive guy, inside and outside the court, yet he failed to notice his best friend's wellbeing. How did he miss to notice how little she would eat, how easily tired she was, or how low her stamina was? He was supposed to be the smart guy, for crying out loud!

He wanted to hit himself, to numb himself of the pain.

The moment he found out, he wouldn't stop crying, hating himself every minute of every day.

(Name) wouldn't wake up.

(Name) wouldn't wake up.

(Name). Wouldn't. Wake. Up.

"Kuroo," a voice called, quiet and low, one he knew all too well. Weakly raising his head, he looked over his shoulder, meeting a familiar blonde teen.

Kenma looked at his best friend worriedly, a frown in his face. "You should go home." The raven-haired lad shook his head, Kenma sighed. "(Name) wouldn't like that."

"I'm not leaving her." he says, voice raspy.

Kenma stared, eyes narrowing. "Have you been eating at least?"

"I've been snacking on what Auntie gives me," he rubs his eyes tiredly, stretching his arms over his head. "I'll be fine."

His dark hair was greasy, sticking out to different directions – messier than usual; there were bags under his eyes. The clothes he's been wearing were days old now, but it's not like he leaves the hospital. How long has he had proper sleep or shower?

"You're not." Kenma pointed out, walking towards the bed, opposite to where his friend was. He arranges the plushies from various game characters beside her bed, dusting a few. When he was done, he stood next to the unconscious girl, eyes dancing with sorrow.

Kuroo watched his friend carefully, a question burning his head. "How long have you known?"

Kenma blinked. Deciding to sit down, he met Kuroo's gaze. "A while now." He answers as if anticipating the question. "(Name) was the most secretive amongst us three; I thought you'd have known first." Shrugging, he adjusted her blanket. "But you didn't." Kuroo wanted to laugh at that because it was half-true. They both knew he was far more observant than he let on.

Sighing, the blonde props his arm on a nearby desk, resting his head on his palm. "Knowing her secret was like carrying a heavy burden because it's her secret and your knowledge of her sickness."

Frowning, he asked. "She didn't know that you knew?"

The blonde shook his head without looking at him. "Like I said, it was a burden on my part as well. Plus, that'd be disrespecting (Name). And I can't do that to her."

Something likened to rage burned within him, he was standing before his best friend before he knew it. "And you didn't bother to tell me?"

"It's not my secret to tell." Kenma says easily, carefully setting her clamped hand aside.

"But we're best friends!" Kuroo's voice rose, earning a scoff from the blonde as he turned to meet his gaze, eyes almost challenging.

"Don't you think that'd be disrespecting (Name)'s decision?" Kuroo was practically shaking now, hands balled into a fist. "Besides, it's not like you cared to begin with-"

Kuroo had grabbed him by the collar, raising him to his level. "I dare you to say that again." He seethed hotly, eyes burning.

Kenma didn't falter, eyes glowering. "What's the matter, Kuroo? Upset that for once, you failed to gain information before me to break someone, to use it to your advantage? Or are you just mad that (Name) couldn't trust you enough?"

"Shut up!" his voice rose, grip tightening.

Steely gold hues met his, challenging and mocking. "Then are you guilty because it's practically your fault she's in this situation?"

That was the final straw.

Taking his hand back, Kuroo was just about to smack Kenma in the face when blaring sound rang through the room. The two automatically turned to her, panicked, Kuroo dropped Kenma, ran for the intercom while Kenma stared at (Name)'s body, not knowing what to do.

A little while later, a nurse came rushing in.

Kuro and Kenma stepped aside, watching the nurse attend to their best friend each holding their breath. Kuroo was wondering if he should've called for her doctor, but after a while, the nurse sedated her, (Name)'s body relaxed.

The gentle beep of the heart monitor demonstrated her calmness.

"She'll be alright, just a little stressed is all." The nurse says kindly, much to their relief.

They sighed in unison, rooted on the spot even as the nurse left the room.

(Name)'s breathing slowly through the calming silence that came, followed by the purring of the machines and quite chattering outside.

The two best friends stood there, watching the unconscious girl. Kuroo and Kenma slumped against the wall, the raven-haired teen slipping to the ground. The tension between the two was still there, something that was rare even for them. In the many years they knew each other, not once have they got into a fight this extreme. And even if a fight did ensue, there was only one person who could bring it to a stop, one person they'd bow to other than Yaku.

"She'd kill us by now," Kenma sighs, breaking the silence.

Kuroo snorted at that, hiding the smile on his face.

Eventually, he broke into fits of laughter. Kenma joined in.

"She'd give us a litany," Kuroo added, voice thick. "then she'd take us by the ear."

Kenma shuddered, rubbing at his ear. Kuroo did the same.

"You started it though," Kenma told him, bluntly.

Kuroo narrowed his eyes at him. "But you fanned the flames."

They burst into chuckles, tension dying down.

A little while later, the room was filled with members of the Nekoma team – bringing flowers, fruits, and toys. Each member, especially Yamamoto, Inuoka, and Lev, fawned over their unconscious manager while Fukunaga fussed over the snacks. Yaku had to keep everyone in line.

The best friends exchanged a look, knowing that if (Name) were awake, she couldn't be any happier.

Someone was waking him, gently shaking his shoulders. Raising his head from his folded arms, he was met with warm (eye color) eyes. "Tetsuroo-kun." The woman greeted kindly.

"Auntie," He stood up in greeting, pulling his wrinkled clothes down. "Good evening."

Her smile, it reminded him of hers, how he missed her smile. "Good evening." Walking across the room, she dropped her bag and sat on the chair next to her daughter, patting a hand over her cheek. "Any news?" she asked, looking up at him.

He shook his head, hands tightening. "Just the same."

The smile remained, eyes never losing its light. "Then she's still alright."

Just staring at the woman made him wonder how she could still be so optimistic about the situation. It must be hard on her, her only daughter was under coma after her operation, yet she never loses hope. She was just like (Name). And duh, she was her mom!

"Have you eaten?"

He nodded. "Yeah." He lied, tucking his hands on his pockets.

She stared, her smile waning a bit, worry in her eyes, then nods.

"Where is Uncle?" he asked, staring at freshly cut flowers next to her bed – carnations, care of the Fukorodani team.

"Oh, just parking the car. He'll be here in a while."

Kuroo nods, not knowing what else to say. So he sits by the couch, watching Auntie talked to her daughter, telling her how her classmates missed her (evidenced by the balloons and cards surrounding her bed), how their neighbors have as well, how quiet the house has been lately without her playing, the little things. But to her, they were all that mattered.

He hung his head, not wanting to watch any longer. He could hear the sadness in her voice, the longing, and yet, she still hopes. How could she?

"I'll be right back, Auntie." He announces, making his way out before she could reply, missing the worried look on her face.

Six months.

Six excruciating months.

He's endured and suffered that long.

But still, she wouldn't wake up.

Splashing water to his face, he then looked up, finding a miserable guy staring back at him.

Then are you guilty because it's practically your fault she's in this situation?

No matter what they say, it was his fault she was in this situation. It was his fault she's lying in that hospital bed, unconscious. It was his fault.

He wanted to punch his reflection so bad, but he was tired (physically and emotionally).

He didn't like hospitals, hated how clinically clean it was and how dreadful it was. Life came and go here.

Reaching for the door to her room, he paused.

What good would it be for him to be here?

He didn't deserve to be here keeping guard and watching her.

What was he even doing here?

"Aren't you going to go in?" a voice called behind him.

Turning, he was met with a kind gaze from a bespectacled (hair color) man. Their kind disposition ran in the family, he didn't deserve it.

At a loss for words, Kuroo mumbled unintelligent words, the man laughed heartily.

"Looks like you need a bite," although shorter than the teen, he wrapped his arm around his shoulders, steering them away. "come, you need to eat."

Kuroo gulped, staring down at the meal before him, then at the smiling man. There were a few people at the cafeteria – a few nurses and doctors on break, a kid with his mother, some teens, and them.

A comfortable silence forms between them despite having fidgeting in his presence.

The smell of strong spice was making his mouth water, aptly reminding him of the lie he told Auntie. Truth was, he snacked on some fruits given by his family earlier that day, that and coffee. A little while later, his stomach growled. The old man chuckled heartily. "Go on," he encourages.

Timidly, he nodded, saying his grace before digging in.

His eyes widened at the burst of flavors in his mouth, almost forgetting what an amazing cook the man was. He chewed carefully, distracting himself with the texture and taste.

He hadn't noticed the old man leaving until he came back with a can of orange juice for both of them. Kuroo muttered a 'thanks', chugging down the beverage.

"It's so good to see you eat," he tells him, eyes crinkling. "and no, you can't lie to me. I know you, Tetsuroo-kun." He laughed.

It was like he was eight again. It was always like that with this man, this amazing man, who held instruments like magic, the same man who was the father of the girl lying in this very hospital bed, comatose, because of him.

He chewed slowly, eyes dropping. Eventually, he swallowed but didn't reach for more even though the bento box was still full.

"Oh, are you done eating?" asked the confused man.

He almost wanted to laugh.

These past months weren't easy on all of them, especially for them. They could have blamed him for why their daughter was here, but they didn't. Instead, they pulled themselves together for her and for him.

"Thank you, uncle." He says instead, meaning it. Kuroo grinned at the confused man before digging in again.

He shook his head at the teen before him, chuckling heartily. He studies the young boy before him, remembering the look on his face when he saw her comatose state – it was the look of absolute heartbreak.

When he was done eating, they packed slowly, making slow talk (although it was more of him doing the talking). They were standing outside her room, but before they entered, he called him.

"She wouldn't like it you know," he tells him, sincerely. "seeing you like this, filled with guilt and hate. She would've wanted you to be happy, even if she's not the one causing it."

There was a sharp tug in his heart at the last line. "But she makes me happy." It was barely a whisper, tears starting anew. "But I didn't let her know that."

His eyes were stinging with tears, body trembling.

The older man patted his shoulder, squeezing in assurance.

While waiting for her to wake up, he often talked to her about their childhood, some dumb memories, and some good ones. He even told her of the events that transpired during nationals, not knowing that she was watching via live television.

"You should've been there," he said quietly, letting his fingers play with her growing (hair color) hair. "the team wouldn't be anything without our manager."

Some days, he'd read to her, having scavenged through her room from her yet to-read pile. He had to endure going through books that were not of his genre (especially romance), but in the end, found himself enjoying them.

With each passing day, the hope of her waking up was waning. He feared she might never wake up. The waiting was killing him, unnerving and destroying him. But he didn't give up hope, could never. He could wait years if he has to, just to see her (eyes color) eyes again, hear her laugh again, and be with her.

"Oh my, it's that boy again! He's become a familiar face around here."

"How long has he been visiting her?"

"About six months now, since that girl was brought in. He practically lives here."

"Poor thing, looks like he hasn't eaten or slept for days!"

"And he barely leaves her room. And when he does, it's only for a few hours or a day, and then he's back."

"Seriously?"

"The poor boy, the pain he's been through."

"And she might never wake up."

"I don't care what they say," he says against their intertwined fingers. "you are perfect to me. And I'm not leaving you."

It was barely midnight, but he couldn't help it. The conversation he heard earlier was getting to him. They didn't know anything about him or her. It was none of their business.

But to say that she was never going to wake up?

No.

He didn't like to think about it.

She was going to wake up.

He knew it.

But honestly? He wasn't so sure anymore.

Shifting in his seat, he threw his head back, massaging at his throbbing temples. When he opened his eyes, he noted something from the corner of his eye. Her ukulele was lying beside her; he stared at it long and hard before deciding to pick it up. Upon closer inspection, he noticed scratches and a Band-Aid on the crack of the soundboard. Something tugged inside him; he knew exactly where that crack came from.

His grip tightened.

Kenma was right, he was selfish.

He was so selfish.

Absentmindedly, he played with the strings, filling the silence. And then, he began adjusting the chords. It used to drive (Name) nuts, especially when she found how out of tune her ukulele was because of him. He smiled, he always loved seeing her cute face pinched into a frown – she was so cute like that.

Satisfied with the pitch, his calloused fingers began to play a few strings. The song was slow, gentle.

I wanna make you smile, whenever you're sad

Carry you around when your arthritis is bad

All I wanna do, is grow old with you

I'll get your medicine when your tummy aches

Build you a fire if the furnace breaks

Oh it could be so nice, growing old with you

  He loved her.

Cliché as it is, he did.

Truth of the matter is, he's always been in love with her.

From the first moment they met, the first time he saw her smile, the first time she scolded him and Kenma, the first time she fussed over them, the first time he saw her play an instrument, to the first time she made him realize how many years have passed that he was so, so, in love with her.

So hopelessly in love with (Name).

Except, he was scared to risk their friendship – scared that she might not feel the same way he did.

I'll miss you

Kiss you

Give you my coat when you are cold

Need you

Feed you

Even let ya hold the remote control

Six months without her was absolute torture.

She was part of every significant event in his life; he couldn't remember spending a day without her in it

Because life without her? He couldn't even imagine.

It was meaningless.

If he could, he'd turn back time and make it right.

So let me do the dishes in our kitchen sink

Put you to bed if you've had too much to drink

I could be the man who grows old with you

I wanna grow old with you

The last lines of the song came out barely a whisper.

Releasing a shaky breath, he hung his head, tears streamed freely. "I've waited so long to play that."

It was the cheesiest song from a lousy movie. But the song, he had to admit, was one of his low-key favorites. The lyrics to the song were so sincere and heartfelt. He finally understood why love songs were made – to say the words everyone failed to say or supplement their feelings.

If only she was awake, then she'd hear his feelings.

Putting her ukulele away, he takes her hand in his, holding it close as he cried. "Please, wake up."

He buried his face into her hand, kissing it as he repeatedly begs for her to wake up, tears still streaming. "There's so much I want to tell you, so much I want you to know."

Taking her hand, he places a quick kiss to her palm, pressing it against his chest. "Feel that? That's my heart and it's beating for you."

His heart was beating fast, as it always did when (Name) was around.

Every single thing she does wonders is magic to him, especially with the way he captivated her the moment their eyes met. He missed it all – her smile, her touch, her eyes, her laugh, in general, he missed her.

So much it hurt.

Because the possibility of her never waking up was a factor that scared him every single day for the past six months. He didn't want their last meeting to be of him being an ass to her.

His heart skipped a beat.

He looked up at her, then at the hand on his chest, he swore he felt her hand twitch.

[some-dr-writings]

Nagito x depressed, imaginative S/O

·       You were a very introverted individual. Preferring to keep to yourself and having very few friends whom most others would consider family should they be in your position. You rarely spoke and avoided the spotlight. Being the center of attention or being with too many others was incredibly draining so you always tried to hide. You were certainly on the extreme side of introversion, in fact, it likely wasn’t even introversion that led you to the point of outright avoiding people at any cost. You found them so noisy and annoying…

·       That was likely why you liked Nagito and agreed to date him. He was a walking disaster either summoning incredibly good or bad luck. Many avoided him because of that, so even if there was a brief stint of chaos things soon settled down… Nagito was also kind. He’d quietly watch as you worked on your latest rpg maker game. He’d cook and clean for you letting you hold yourself in your dorm just working away…

·       As amazing as Nagito found you, at times he was worried. You always seemed to be somewhere else. Your eyes seemed unfocused, glazed over as if they were that of a porcelain doll’s. You’d never noticed when the school bells rang, and if it wasn’t for him texting you every morning you’d likely never get out of bed. But as the Super High School Level Storyteller you were likely just thinking about new plot lines or character arcs for your characters, maybe composing the perfect theme song or game mechanic. Yet… Something about you just kept nagging away at him. You’d get so frustrated with yourself at times, and he didn’t know why. There was something about you he just couldn’t quite place his finger on.

·       It was the dead of winter. Nagito watched as the snow drifted down, swirling around. A rather lovely sight. Pulling his coat just a bit closer he trotted over to your dorm room.

·       “The door’s unlocked?” It was open by only a crack… He simply stood there for a moment before hesitantly pushing the door open. Your room was just as cold as the outside so Nagito promptly closed the door upon entering, hoping to trap even his minuscule amount of body heat in the room. “Y/N?” It was absolutely silent, only his own heartbeat and his soft footfalls upon the carpet could he hear. Your room was an absolute mess. Trash, dirty dishes, reference sheets and notes scattered about, quilt and sheets seemingly tossed onto a pile of… something Nagito was too nervous to even take a peak at, clothes uniform and pajama alike in a corner and you, just laying atop the mattress, arms draped over your eyes, a few empty bags of snacks with you along with crumbs. “Y/N.” You didn’t respond… at all… were… were you even breath- Nagito immediately shook his head as if trying to shake away that thought and instead he looked at the floor, puzzling out a path to take that wouldn’t step on anything.

·       This wasn’t the first time Nagito had seen your room like this, but… it seemed worse than usual. Nagito couldn’t help but begin to fret as to why he even had come here in the first place. It was common for you to go off the grid for a few days, so completely absorbed in your work, or lost in though planning out a new tale to tell, but… it’d been two weeks without a singe sign of our existence anywhere, you didn’t even send a text telling your friends to not bother you since you were in the creative zone. There was just nothing.

·       “Y/N!” Placing his hands on your shoulders he rocked you. “Ugh, what do you want. I’m thinking right now.” Nagito shakily let go of the breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. “I’m sorry. I just thought I’d check in on you since it’s been a while.” “Okay.” Then you rolled over onto your side. “… Do you know how long it’s been?” “…” “It’s been two weeks si-” Finally it seemed he had garnered your attention. You looked over your shoulder to him. “two weeks?... that can’t be. I… yeah! I just texted you before getting to bed.” He opened his texts and presented the screen to you. You just stared at it before abruptly sitting up. “Two weeks!? But I… Damn it, not again!” You rubbed your temples, seemingly those two weeks hitting you all at once. You groaned, crumpling over yourself… Nagito simply sat beside you, holding you up, rubbing his hands up and down your upper arms to help get some blood moving and warm you up, you were freezing. “Again?” You flinched… then chuckled? “Yes, again. As always! I just can’t bother anymore! I’m tired, I want to sleep, but I can’t sleep. I sleep when I shouldn’t and am awake when I should be sleeping! I want to be passionate and do things but I just can’t! Isn’t that fantastic!? Being absolutely worthless and not being able to do anything!” “Y-Y/N!” “You say you’re garbage but look at me! I’m worse than garbage! At least trash can be made into art, and I… I’m just worthless! I can’t even take care of myself! I rely on you for everything! I can’t even work anymore! All I can do is just hate myself for not doing anything, try to do something, but give up because I’m too exhausted and hate myself again! Isn’t that just fun! An endless cycle of suffering! All I can do is daydream and pretend to be something better, but it’s funny torture, because I know I’ll never improve! Maybe I’d be better… better… fuck… I said too much…”

·       You wanted to hide, but even that was too much of a bother. Your whole body just felt so heavy, impossible to move. Even trying to keep your swirling, racing mind steady sent shivers through your body. You…

·       …

·       Everything was very white and sterile. You were… in a hospital? You were going to look around, but found an IV stuck into your arm, Mikan dashing away, saying something about a doctor, and Nagito, who was asleep, laying his head on the mattress you were on, holding your hand. Soon after Mikan and a doctor showed up to speak with you, shooing Nagito out temporarily. Your body couldn’t take how much strain you were putting on it with eating and drinking so little so when you started having a panic attack, it was too much for your body to take on so suddenly and you had collapsed. It had been a few days since then and you were now in a more stable condition… they were also rather keen on finding out why this happened.

·       You just wanted to talk to Nagito.

·       When he entered your room he looked so relieved, yet the concern etched into his features was evident. You hated it. So gently he hugged you, nuzzling into your shoulder. “… just stop.” “Stop what?” You felt his grip loosen, and before he could let you hugged his arm, keeping him in place. “Stop caring about me, please.” “I… don’t think I could ever do that, even if I want too.” You held him tighter, feeling the tears percolating in the corners of your eyes. “Nagito… I just keep getting worse and worse. Now with this… it just shows I can’t even keep my head above water. Please just ignore me, I don’t want to be a burden to you. I don’t want to worry you like this, I… I just…” You quickly wiped away those tears that kept trickling out. “I’m sorry…”

·       He hugged you tightly. “So warm.” “Huh?” For a moment he simply indulged in being able to hold you again, hear your voice even if it wavered. He was just so glad to see you awake. “It’s alright. You’re here, I’m here. You are amazing and can do anything. And I’ll do anything I can to help you. We can work together and try our best.” “No, I can’t, i… I’ve been dealing with this for so long. Nagito… I’m tired, I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up. It’s just going to get worse and worse and… I’m sorry. I… I should have told you about this, I shouldn’t have dragged you into my mess, I shouldn’t be with you, I’m just going to hurt you. I…”

·       Slowly he let go and instead sat beside you. “Do you not want me anymore?” “…” You couldn’t bare to look at him, instead glancing to the wall, clutching the bed sheets. “You said we could work through this, right?” “Yeah.” “… I… I can’t deal with this… how I have no control over my body… how I can’t do anything to satisfaction… how I just can’t be happy anymore… That’s why I daydream. I don’t even do it intentionally anymore, it just happens… Heh, e-even now it’s taking everything I have left to be ‘here’ to even have this conversation or to talk with the doctor before… I… I don’t know how much longer I can force myself to concentrate before I just give out again. but… I can’t work through this, i-if I do, I’ll lose what little I have left, my talent and you. You… y-you adore people who are talented s-so even if I’m magically normal like everyone else, I… I won’t have to day dream, I won’t daydream, then I can’t make games anymore, my daydreaming is where I write so if I change and stop that I won’t be a story teller, I won’t be ‘hopeful’ or an ‘Ultimate’, you won’t love me, but… I… I see now that… I’m toxic like this, I’ll just drag you down with me I-I, I…” You pulled up the sheets, tucking your head under them… You didn’t want him to see you like this, though… seeing how not hopeful you were, how you were just falling deeper and deeper in this despair that has always suffocated you. Maybe he’d finally leave you, that way you’d have one less thing to mess up. All you would have was yourself. You wouldn’t hurt him anymore and he’d leave of his own accord and be happy without you, so he wouldn’t have to worry about his bad luck hurting you like it had done with others… but… what if he blamed himself for this. What if he thought it was his bad luck. Were you hurting him even more than you thought!? Was he blaming himself this whole time!? Is that why he was with you when you woke up, to apologize for his luck!? Were you-

·       …

·       What was that pressure?

·       Though your vision was still clouded you could see Nagito was still by your side, his hand placed atop your arm. He scooched over a little, getting closer to you before cupping your cheeks in his hands, stroking those tears from your puffy red eyes with his thumbs. “I’m a trash boyfriend. Y/N. I love you. Your talent is only a sign of how amazing you are. Look at Hinata, he’s amazing and he’s in the reserve course of all places! And you are like him, amazing. Even right now you’re fighting to be here with me despite how much it hurts. I will love you no matter what happens. If you want help, I’ll search for help with you. You can make it through this, I know you can. You were able to make it this far on your own, weren’t you? You did what you had too, and you’re still here, and… if you’ll still have me, if fearing your hurting me is not too much, I’ll still be here. So… do you want me to stay?”

·       It… was a long process. Due to why you ended up in the hospital you were sent to therapy. Despite Nagito’s constant assurances you were still so scared and distanced yourself again, just getting lost in thought. Going to the sessions took all the energy and focus you could muster and you’d end up daydreaming immediately after so Nagito would keep a vigilant eye on you, getting you back home, and making you a healthy meal, even staying with you through the night hoping the presents of another person would lull you to sleep.

·       It was difficult every step of the way, but everyday you both kept trying. It was all you could do, and… you had each other. On good days when your mind could be clear for a moment, when you were with Nagito and not in one of your many worlds… you’d make a vow to get better and better so that one day, you could support Nagito just as he had for you now. It was the least you could do for such an amazing person.

[sasa-gay-yo]

Just Us (Chapter Three: Normal)

← Chapter Two

“A false sense of calm. Of hope. That’s all that it was.” 

Everything had been published in the papers rooting for the Scouts and people in the streets were also in high spirits when they heard they were coming back from a monthly expedition. People had lined up in front of the café and this time I decided to join them and not wait for the newspapers. I could see if Levi made it out alive by just stepping outside of my door. 

Jonas had given me the box he was standing on, yet I still had to go on my tiptoes to just get a look over everyone else’s heads. I had asked Jonas how people knew the Scouts would come back and he said they would just take the whole day to stand and wait. It was almost beautiful to see the number of people here to support them and it made me feel warm inside. I never forgot the look Levi gave me when I told them the Scouts gave me hope, but I hoped that this display from the people of Trost could convince him.

“They’re here!” There were soft cheers as the horses neared in everyone’s vision. This was the first time I got to see Erwin in person and the portraits of him gave his eyebrows no justice. Even from far away you could see his herculean presence. People cheered more and more and I searched around for him on as they came closer and closer. 

Then the cheering stopped. The first of the line to see what was behind Erwin shut completely up and I was straining so hard to see why. Erwin’s expression was unreadable.

“Elias, get on my shoulders.” I grabbed the little boy from Jonas and hoisted him up as a lookout, “Can you see why they stopped cheering?” 

The smile on the boy���s face dropped.

“Elias?” Before he could say anything, the crowd started for him. 

“I thought for once we had a chance! Now, look!”

“My tax dollars down the drain again.”

“Ugh, useless.” I felt Elias’s grip on my hand tighten as he heard the remarks. He was little and probably couldn’t understand the criticism of the people he wanted to be when he grew up. Even I couldn’t understand until I finally saw what everyone was muttering about. Scout after Scout limped by.

They had halved easily. They were filled with people who were bandaged, crippled, walking with no horse, or lying unconscious in a cart. This made me instantly seize up with worry. Where was Levi?

“Miss. Eva… Where did they all go?” His tiny voice was filled with so much sadness. I hadn’t been there to see them off like the rest, but I knew from the somber faces that it was bad. My eyes darted back and forth from the people in the carts to those on horseback. Shouldn’t Levi be near Erwin if they were both officers? That means he had to be walking somewhere. 

I handed Elias back to Jonas and pushed my way to the front. It was rather easy now that people were starting to turn around and go back home after the big disappointment of the Scouts. I didn’t care about the numbers now, I just wanted to see one soldier for who I had just bought more peppermint tea. 

When I reached the front, the sight was even more heartbreaking. I could see their eyes. I could see the sadness and fear. It was something I had only seen in the humans of the underground. Then remember why I had stopped coming to bid the Scouts a ‘Welcome home!’ It was too much for current and past me to see humans deal with. 

A hand went on my shoulder and I turned to see Jonas. His face was harsh and solemn. I knew what his judgment of the Scouts was. They all walked by and slowly a sense of dread filled me. There was no way… Humanity’s Strongest couldn’t have… 

“Where is he?” The line wasn’t long and there were little to no people left. The chance of him showing up in the next few seconds was slim, but I put my hands together squeezing. Hoping.

“Levi.” 

It was a mere, breathy whisper, but his head snapped over from on top of his horse. Once he met my eyes, he looked forward like he had before. Not sparing me another glance. He was at the very back of the line, probably to protect the weak from lingering titans. It was a sick joke of a formation, but my stress level instantly went down. He didn’t look hurt, there were no bandages on him, but his expression was darker than I had ever seen it. It was probably selfish for me to only care about him right now, but as they walked by and out of the gates of Trost, I just wanted him to turn around and come in for a cup of tea. I wanted to hear him explain to me what happened. I wanted him to not hear the townspeople who were hurling insults left and right, not caring if the Scouts heard them. 

Usually, we just get nasty looks.

No, Levi, my look wasn’t nasty. It was concerned, anxious, filled with stress; I wanted to give you some tea. 

“Come on. I’m sure people will want a pick me up after seeing that.” I looked at the ground, at the leftover wagon wheel tracks. I hope he didn’t think I was looking at him that way. 

“Miss. Flynn, I hope you have some coffee ready. Those of us who don’t drink will need it.” I looked over to see June and Elias’s father, a grim expression on his face too. Everyone’s emotions were putting me down too.

“Yes, sir. Right away.” 

He didn’t come in the rest of the day and the few days after that. I inquired with some people and learned that Scouts get a week off before they have to go back and the officers only a few days. Seeing some Scouts meet their parents again or come into the café made me doubtful of Levi’s return. Everyone was so dark and grim, and without Levi to come and break that, I started to sink into that emotion as well. So much so that a few people had commented on it. 

“A breakup with a boyfriend?” 

“Did you have a friend in the Scouts that died?” 

“You seem unlike yourself today, Eva.” 

It was those people who made my attitude worse. If only he would come in and let me talk to him, maybe I would feel better. The fact that he could be willingly not coming in was probably what made my thoughts worse. I even kept a kettle of hot water ready for when he came, but he never showed. 

“I know how much you revere the Scouts, Eva, but you can’t let that do this to you. A false sense of calm. Of hope. That’s all that it was.” I shook my head at Jonas as he wrapped my fingers with the balm treated bandages. I guess the atmosphere was making me physically deteriorate too. I was grinding coffee when the first part of my skin split. My right ring finger. I didn’t think anything of it, but as I worked and worked to suppress feelings, my hands started to suffer more and more. 

“It wasn’t false, Jonas. I still have hope in the Scouts. It was one expedition. It’s just the way everyone is acting is just putting me down too.” 

“We were all stupid to think that the titans had backed down, even for a little bit. I know it hurts, but it might be better to put your faith in other things… other people.” I pulled my hand away from him and stood up. What did he mean by that?

“My thinking is fine, Jonas. Don’t you have something to deliver.” That was his cue to stop talking and leave. It was nicer than I wanted to say to him, but I couldn’t be that rude to someone who comes back everyday. However, there were sometimes that I could yell at him or be short, but I didn’t care. Everyone deserved some hate for what they gave to the Scouts. That was my philosophy. 

I went about cleaning, making sure that every table was spotless, and taking extra care of his table. He was already stressed about death, if he came in, I didn’t want him to be stressed by dirt either. 

If he came in. 

The hours ticked by and I found myself still sitting in the dark café after closing. Today was the last day of the regular cadet’s break. Maybe they were nice to officers and gave them the same. That’s what I was telling myself. 

Finally, when the sun went down, I told myself it was time to go. I reluctantly grabbed the leftovers to put in a bag and put my coat on. Even if it was a short walk up some steps to get to my home, it was getting colder as the end of fall was approaching. The city’s atmosphere somehow made the cold more depressing. 

Turning to lock the front door, I heard some footsteps walking up to the café. 

“Sorry, I know it’s looked like we were open, but we’re closed for the day. You can come back tomorrow at six in the morn-”

“I didn’t come because I don’t want you to be burdened by me.” My eyes widened and I dropped the keys on the ground. Quickly, I composed myself and the beating of my heart.

“Burdened?” I picked the keys up and saw his figure standing on the side of the alleyway. He was in regular clothes, but it still didn’t hide his stature of a captain. Anyone walking by would know it was him.

“You said the Scouts gave you hope. Then, we come back and I see your expression. I couldn’t even look at you because I ruined that. I didn’t want to come here, just for you to look at me and feel hopeless and lost and all these negative emotions and-” 

“You talk a lot for someone who’s wrong.” That stopped his rant and admittedly that is the most he’s ever talked to me, but I needed it to end. He was digging himself into a bigger hole. 

“What?” It wasn’t harsh this time as all of his one-word phrases were. 

“Whatever look I had on my face, when you were all marching through Trost, it wasn’t me losing hope. It was me, worried about their wellbeing. It was me, hearing what people were around them saying, hoping that you didn’t hear them. I think the look on my face was from a place of concern or even pity.” He moved to lean against the brick, arms folded. 

“I didn’t want to come here because then I’d involve you in all… in all of the emotions and all the death. A civilian shouldn’t have to deal with a soldier. They should be kept ignorant so they can live happily.” 

“So what was it then? You didn’t want to ruin my hope or you didn’t want to ruin my innocence?” He took a deep breath in and I noticed some people looking our way. This was a great way to have rumors spread like wildfire. If I go back to the café, there were windows that couldn’t be closed. I’m sure Captain here wouldn’t want civilians to witness his “soldier emotions”.

“I don’t…” He glanced to the side as well, seeing the people who stopped walking.

“Follow me or at least try to get yourself onto the second-floor apartment if you’re worried about them.” I turned away from him and went up the stairs on the side of the building, opening my front door. To my surprise, he did just follow behind me. Another order I’ve gotten him to follow.

“Do you want tea, Captain? I only have green tea up here.” He just stood by the closed door and stared at me. It’s like he was scared about coming into my house. Was this the first time he’s ever come home with a woman? There’s some humor in this situation I guess. 

“No… I’m fine.” I put the bag of bread on the kitchen counter and pulled out the tea leaves. I’d make him one anyway. 

It was quiet again, but quiet like the first time we met. It was full of awkwardness and questions we wanted to ask. The air was too thick to swallow. To think, this is only the third time I’ve met him and he’s in my house. Maybe it’s just entertaining for him to see how civilians live. That’s why he followed.

“So, I’ll ask again. You didn’t come because you didn’t want to-” 

“I didn’t come because I was scared to face you.” I stopped stirring the honey into my tea. I even let go of the spoon to look up at him, still standing by the door. So he was scared of me. Captain Levi was scared of me? No, that couldn’t be. He just didn’t know how to define what he was feeling. 

“Scared?” He nodded and leaned against the door frame, pinching the bridge of his nose. It was like he was mad at himself for saying all of this. Maybe he was. Revealing those solider emotions again.

“When I came in on my horse, I saw your face and I saw the face of the boy next to you. I didn’t care about him, but yours… I thought that my failure on this expedition had broken the hope you had for the Scouts. If I came to your café, you would just treat me like everyone else does? Just like everyone treats the Scouts. I had found someone who understands the underground and who seems to understand the Scouts, and then that look on your face… it was like it was over.”  

“My look was concern. I told you that.”

“But in a town full of people looking up at you with anger and hatred in their eyes, how do you tell the difference?” I’d give him that. I was surrounded by people swearing and glaring up at him. I was just a bit hurt that he misread my emotions after I told him what I thought. He wasn’t scared, but he was bad at precepting people’s feelings. That could add to the rumor of him being emotionless. He wasn’t emotionless, he just didn’t have to ability to deal with the mass amount of emotions he gets.

You’ve only talked to him one and a half times, Eva. How are you talking like you know him?

“What made you come here then? You came when you knew I had closed. Was it to avoid everyone?”

“I was here earlier, I just didn’t have the courage to face you and everyone in that café. Especially that one boy you always have next to you.” That made me laugh out loud. Humanity’s Strongest was annoyed at Jonas and scared of me. What kind of power do I have over him? The tea he likes? Why was he so worried about Jonas? 

“That boy’s name is Jonas and he’s a delivery boy for Reeve’s Company. He’s around me a lot because he’s the delivery boy for that area of Trost and he likes to talk a lot. He also lives around here too.” 

“Your hand?” He reached out a slim finger to point at my bandages and I held my hand up. He had probably seen Jonas bandage it again today. 

“My skin splits from being so dry. I get it from work. I haven’t found a good balm to heal it though.” He closed his eyes.

“I come back from an expedition and you’re the one who’s hurt.” That hit something in my core. I looked up at him from the tea and his eyes were staring again. No look to the side and not from the peripheral. It was like when I was cleaning the tables. This feeling… with a Captain of the Scouts. That was dangerous for my sanity. I wondered if he felt the same.

I walked over and sat down on the couch that was facing him and set the tea down, one cup across from the other. 

“Again, to make sure you understand in that over-calculating brain of yours, Captain. My hope isn’t broken. There will be bad expeditions and there will be good ones, but to me, having bad ones will always be better than not having any. My look was concern for you. You were at the very back, but I thought you would be near Commander Erwin. I couldn’t find you anywhere, so I was the one who was scared. When I saw you, the way that you looked, I was concerned for how you felt, physically and mentally.” That made him lower his gaze to the ground again. I wished I swept last night. 

“Who are you to feel concern for me?” If I didn’t know where he came from, I would have been offended by his question. Truthfully, I was a little hurt that he said it that way, but I knew what he meant. In the underground, those who cared about you were those who used you or were in the same boat as you. I wasn’t a Scout and he knew I couldn’t possibly use him in this situation. He was confused why I had given him any thought, as his normal life would have nothing to do with me. Why didn’t I shy away from him and revere him as an scary, emotionless Scout?

“I’m someone who cares. Someone who’s still confused about you, personally. Why did he come into my café? Why does he keep coming? Someone who knows only a fraction of what it’s like to live in this world and someone who knows nothing about what you have to go through everyday. I’m not a Scout, I’m not a soldier, hell, I don’t think I could punch anyone hard enough to hurt them, but I do know what it feels to lose people and what it feels like to be judged by them too. So, I guess I’m someone who’s game for understanding you, too. You’re concerned about me too. My hands.” He didn’t answer, he just kept looking at his shoes on the floor. What’s so interesting about them? 

“I am concerned, yes. I don’t know why I feel so concerned about the opinions and condition of someone I’ve only talked to on two separate occasions. I’m not a civilian, nor do I live a normal life, but I guess I’m someone who is also game for creating normal. Starting with your tea. I went to your café on a recommendation from a friend and I came back because you gave me some thread of normalcy to hold onto. Sitting here and in that café, I don’t feel like Captain Levi. I just feel like Levi, whoever that is. No titans, no paperwork; just tea.” I smiled up at him and maybe my cheeks were a little warm too. It was just the tea being too hot, that’s what it was. 

“Well, Mr. Levi. Come drink some tea and sink into normalcy. We can talk about anything you want.” He stood up from the wall, contemplating if he was to join me on the couch. If he did, he knew he’d just signed himself up for a lifetime deal. He’d have to come to the café every month at least and he couldn’t die. That would ruin his normal and my understanding. I wasn’t all that surprised when he sat down, but still my heart felt like it was going to burst. Maybe for the first time in his life, he picked to sit instead of to stand. 

“Tea. I don’t know much about it, but I drink it from habit. What teas are good for what? You recommended me mint tea that first time.” I moved my legs up so I could sit crisscross and comfortable. 

“You’ve just asked a very, very loaded question, Levi.” 

We talked late into the night about tea and owning a café. Many cups of tea had kept us up and I had completely gotten lost in conversation that I forgot he would’ve had to leave. He didn’t leave that night, but I don’t remember who slept first or when. He just sat there, leaning with one arm of the back of his chair and one leg crossed, listening and commenting on the various teas I recommended and on what I should do to change the cafe’s layout for a better person-per-square-meter ratio. 

At one point, we had just stopped talking, each taking sips of our respective cups. There weren’t thoughts of titans, of the Scouts, or of failed exhibitions. I also got a lesson in math, so it let me understand that even without a proper education, Levi was a genius at certain things. We sat there soaking in the present. That’s probably why he forgot he had to go back to HQ or why I forgot to prep the starter dough for the morning. We didn’t care much for the future consequences. 

When I woke up, he was gone. The blanket I had given him, saying I’d go sleep in my own bed, was over me and the tea cups were clean and hung up on their rack. It was satisfying to wake up like this. Everything was light and peaceful again as opposed to waking up with Trost’s grim atmosphere. It was seven in the morning, and I was late to open the café, but I didn’t care or feel any rush. As I walked out of the door to a, probably, annoyed crowd, I felt a note in the breast pocket of my coat.

Left at 5AM to get back to HQ. See you after the next expedition.

                                                                                   -L 

Chapter Four→

Chapter Masterlist

[greekbros]

"greek-Bros: The Return of an Old Enemy"

Chapter 11: A Joust Worth Remembering!

It was late afternoon, around 4 o'clock in the afternoon to our clock. Crowds gather to the center ring, ready for the evening's big event, Dionysus's joust. On opposite sides, Dionysus and Ares stood like two forces of nature. Ares prepared his chariot, now being pulled by Delphi's most capable mules, glared at Dionysus from across the ring. Dionysus, stared back not as a proud and fierce as the bulls he's compared to, but more of a scared fawn looking straight at the wolf eyeing it.

He glances at Hermes, Apollo and Ariadne whom were sitting within the crowd, feeling a little courage, he rides his chariot slowly towards to the ring, Ares following soon after, he clears his throat, "LADIES, GENTLEMEN AND EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN AND BEYOND! I give you the joust of the millenia! Me, your humble ruler versus Ares!", he reached his arm out to show the crowd a begrudged Ares. "May the best god win!", he finished his speech, he felt a cold sweat run down his tempal. "Okie dokie, just relax-", he looked again to Hermes and Apollo, he could see them both had a glint in their eyes, "-you guys better have done a good job, I can't bare losing her.", he quietly whispered to himself.

Ares however, was revved up like an angry boar, ready to once again gouge his prey. He clenched his teeth as if he was going to go for the jugular. "I'm going to wreck your shit Dio.", he growled through his teeth. He and Dionysus both stopped a little parallel to each other, setting their positions for the joust. The two chariots were ready, the lances pointing to each other....and the chariots darted to each other as if time itself slowed to a crawl. Things were looking like they were going according to plan, but fate is a force even the gods can't predict. It was going to come on four legs, orange fur and long whiskers.

Back at the food tent, the little lycan pup was still rummaging through the cloths and pillows, now all shredded open creating a storm of down feathers. He played and leaped, knawed and ravaged the pillows as if they were rabbits. Until, he heard a mew, just outside the tent. All his attention went from enjoying himself, to finding the thing that made the noise. Sniffing the air, his nose lead to the corner of ravaged tent, again a mew was heard. He poked his head from under the tent, seeing a stray cat. The pup had no idea what a cat was, but he hated it like any self respecting canidae. He gave the most hardy growl his little body could muster and barked. The cat arched, hairs on end and it hissed. The pup matched ferocity with the cat, barking again he gave chase, determined to hunt it. The car let out a yowl and ran off, the cat and pup both have way to a cat and mouse chase throughout the feild. Several Delphians saw this oddly shaped wolf pup chasing the cat, some knowing very well this was no dog, it was definitely something of a beast. The pup chased the cat....into the jousting field.

Within the meaningless seconds, Ares felt victory was a red dye tipped lance away, "oh I can't wait to see the look on that fatass's face when I get take Delphi for myself!", he thought to himself. He could feel the warm wave of confidence run down his back and the cool breeze of the chariot's speed. His face with a manic grin, contrary to Dionysus's look of fear and worry. All Dionysus could do was hope that he wouldn't lose everything he cared for.

Ares it seemed had the joust set, until he saw a flash of orange followed by a little blurr of greyish brown. "Wait wh-", suddenly just time began to start walking instead of crawling, he heard the haunting sound of something breaking. He looked to his right and saw the wheel broke right off it's wheelhub, while at the same time, the sight of the two beasts of burdens frightened the chariot mules. The mules reared back, braying in fear of the fast moving things. The same had happened to Dionysus's mules, but he quickly reacted to the situation. He tugged at the riens as hard as he could, and tugged to his right and the whole chariot took a remarkable slide. Just narrowly avoiding hitting Ares's chariot.

It's an incredible chaos! As Ares's chariot continues to crash down to the dirt, the mules struggling with the yoke and shaft, Dionysus's mules grind to a halt and both gods seem to have lost control. The two gods, now more concerned about not dieing from an unfortunate chariot accident, where orbiting the field in a cloud of dust.

The whole joust had become the world's most heavenly mess. Hermes looked at Apollo, mildly glaring at him, all Apollo could do is gawk like everyone in the crowd. He looked at Hermes to see if he was enjoying the sight as much as he was but it was clear Hermes was more mildly upset. "What did YOU do?", Hermes asked. Even he wanted to know what did Apollo do to help sabotage Ares, because even Hermes himself wouldn't have thought of something as simple as messing with the chariot.

Apollo blushed a little with childish shame, "oh nothing much.....I just loosened a thing...or two.", he explained that he loosened the wheelhub to make sure it was guaranteed the wheel would fly off.", Hermes was dumbfounded yet actually impressed at the simplicity of it all.

Next to Apollo, Ariadne was worried about Dionysus, hoping he didn't hurt himself too much. "Oh no my dearest Dionysus! Please let him be alright.", she worried out loud. Apollo gave her a friendly pay on her shoulder.

"There there, he's been through worse.", Apollo assured her. He noticed a few people shouting and asking about the joust's results. Did Ares win? Or Did Dionysus win? As the dust cleared, both chariots, both pair of mules and both gods, in a pile of a kerfuffle. Ares rubbed his hurting head, all he could remember was something whizzing through the jousting feild and BOOM, now he was laying on the side of his own chariot...belly down. His thoughts started to collect and he than quickly remembered the wheel, now fuming with anger.

Dionysus, still reeling from his epic drift, was seeing stars for a few seconds. His thoughts ran as fast as the stars did and he felt a pit in his stomach and sinking in his heart. He shook his head, as he noticed a bright, green mark on Ares's left thigh. His gaping mouth quickly transformed into a smile, he had won by luck itself. Before Ares could turn around to strangle Dionysus, a satyr shouts "LORD DIONYSUS IS THE WINNER!". The crowd roared with cheer and merriment for their patron god had won as expected. Ariadne leaps up and cheered, she hastily went to Dionysus to hug the big fool. "You could have gotten yourself hurt!", Ariadne gave him a slap on the face, but just as quickly she was furious, she hugged him again. Relieved that he's alright. Dionysus picked her up, embracing her, he was relieved that she wasn't going to be trinketed away to his war mongering brother.

Ares was confused, he looked all over his body and found that bright green paint on his thigh, it stuck out like a sore thumb, evidence of his defeat. He looked at the cheering crowd and saw Apollo and Hermes both giggling, it was clear what had happened. Those two had sabotaged him, all this because his "whiny brother was a sore loser and couldn't stand loosing in front of his adoring followers" his thoughts roared. He stood there, stewing in his own anger. He growl, snarled, and baired his teeth but he took a deep breath, knowing well that if all of this calamity happened, it was obvious it wasn't written in the stars. He huffed and snorted like a bull, he wasn't going to dignify Dionysus with a congratulations. He stormed off, to find his horses and someone to fix his chariot.

About an hour later, after Dionysus's decree of curfew had to be upheld as promised, Ares was still at the stables, waiting for his chariot to be fixed by a supposed reputable repair nymph. He sat down on a stool, brooding his loss of the perfect training ground for an army he would have to wait another century. "Bastard drunk asshole, I swear if that golden twink and thieving gnat Hermes didn't fuck up my chances...hmf. I would have won.....I want a rema-" suddenly, he heard the sniffling and whinnying of a dog. He turned his head to the sound, and slowly followed it to a pile of empty barrels. He looked inside some of the barrels, he moved some aside, he couldn't seem to find the sound. Than, he finally found the source, it was the little pup.

It had seemed that shortly after he and the cat zoomed across the field, their chase ensued. He and the cat had a tussle, they 'battled' it out but towards the end, the pup lost to the cat's claws. A scratch across his little snout, few on his body and arms, tears running down his face, poor thing had its first taste of defeat with a little side of pain. Ares watched on, just wondering who would put this poor misshapen dog in tattered clothes. "To make my day even worse, these drunken fools decided to defile an innocent dog. Well... No use having two souls suffer...", he leaned down and saw the pitiful little, "hey buddy.", he spoke softly.

The lycan pup looked up, perked his ears in shock and let out a little snarl. To the pup, Ares was a towering opponent, he was going to do everything to defend himself. Ares however, was actually curious about the pup, it was definitely a funny looking dog with oddly long arms, legs and paws. He gently picks the pup by the scruff of his tattered chiton, as he does so, the pup grabs on to his forearm and knaws on the bareskin. The pup tried to dig in deep but even his little sharp teeth couldn't break Ares's skin.

Ares gave a hardy chuckle, "You have a lot fire in you, ugh buddy? I'm not going to lie, I have no idea what kinda dog you are....Fuck it, you'll make a fine addition to my pack little one...I think I'll name you.....Ajax.", he scratched the pup behind his ear with his free hand. The pup suddenly relaxed as he felt the pleasant starching of a persistent itch had gone, his tail wagged with glee and even relaxed his grip on Ares's forearm, letting Ares carry him like a small child. Delighted, Ares carried him to his chariot to bring back to Olypmus.

Back at Dionysus's veranda, the boys were enjoying a late afternoon cup of wup. Apollo was playing his lyre while Hermes, Ariadne and Dionysus relaxed after helping the citizens put away the maritals from the games. Dionysus with Ariadne in one arm and a kylix in the other hand, "man, that was great...did you see that sweet drift, I knew Ares was going to do something weird so I ha-?", he drunkenly went on.

"Dionysus love, you know very well you didn't plan anything.", Ariadne included. She was playing with his curly, thick locks. Dionysus blushed a little on top of his rosey glow of wine, laid the side of his head on to her, "yes darling.", he responded, "shame Ares couldn't stay for our little celebration.", he said with an air of irony. Apollo looked at Dionysus and shook his head, he knew he was just mostly relieved about Ares losing.

Hermes was swirling around his kylix, he started to ponder about the event and how did it go so wrong. He knew he and Apollo had sufficiently sabotaged Ares and his chariot yet the beginning of the joust just felt odd, he felt something was going and that a perfectly simple day wasn't going to end on a high note somehow. "Say....did anyone actually see what that THING that ran in between you guys were?", he asked taking a sip of the wine.

The rest of them all started to ponder as well, Dionysus clicked his tounge, ".....maybe it was just a dog chasing a cat or something.....", he bluntly put it. "Wait....do we have dogs in Delphi?", he asked Ariadne.

"Of course we have dogs in Delphi, Dionysus. Many of our farmers have herding dogs to protect the livestock.", she responded.

Apollo chimed in, "hmm.....yes it could....but didn't the dog look off too? It looked a little lanky....and...also....did anyone knoticed the dog.....wearing a tunic?". He hopeed someone around knew what he had seen.

This comment sent shivers down Hermes's spine, he suddenly remembered his encounter with the wolf creature. "Ugh.....you guys don't think it was-", he was interrupted by the sound of Kale.

Kale strutted towards the gods, "My Lord Dionysus, the citizens would like to express their gratitude and appreciation for your entertaining performance this evening....buuuut there was a small complaint.", he eloquently noted.

Dionysus was a little surprised about this news, "what complaint?", he asked. To his knowledge the whole thing was a success regardless of the terrible bet that had taken place behind closed curtains.

Kale, with little to no hesitation, "Well the main food tent was absolutely FuCkInG destroyed, someone ate all the roasted goat, most of the breads and ugh absolutely RUINED the furnishings I worked so hard placing. I am just floored, my Lord.", he let out a depressed sigh.

Dionysus was confused, did someone break in the food tent or was this just evidence of an animal attack? He cleared his throat, "ugh, I am so sorry about that, Kale, I saw it earlier in the morning it looked really nice. Did anyone see anything?", he asked, he just hoped it wasn't what he thought it was.

Kale composes himself a little with a deep light breath, "well it looked like animal was in there...but it could have been some kid in a wolf costume or something just making mischief.", he deducted. However, Delphians weren't known for pulling such pranks, even for misbehaving youths, this would be considered to be in poor taste considering the farming population.

Ariadne slowly looked to Dionysus, suspecting he knew about something. "An animal you say?", she asked. The hair on the back of Dionysus's neck stand on end, his MAN senses were tingling, and his wife was in on it. He chuckled nervously, "maaaaybe it was just a stray dog?", his reassuring comment wasn't going to be enough.

However, Kale wasn't helping. "Well....a few people did see what came out of the tent, they saw it chase a cat all over the event field. It looked a tiny baby wolf in a chiton? I mean what kind of depraved jerk would put clothes on a wolf?". This was the final nail in the coffin, at least for Dionysus's chances of sleeping in the same villa as Ariadne.

She let out a huff, crossed her arms and crossed her legs. "What is going on Dionysus,I thought I told you not to go on with this whole thing if you KNEW if there were those beasts out there.", she was stern and her eyes could be comparable to Hera's stare of marital disappointment.

Dionysus, tried to avoid the conversation and sipped his kylix. He looked off to the side like a child who did something wrong. Hermes entered into the conversation, "Ugh to be fair, it was a BABY...and..ugh...there was just one...so...ugh...I guess it didn't do anything.", Inspite of this argument, he knew this meant that there was definitely more if these wolf creatures. "Ugh...you didn't see where it went...did you?", he asked Kale.

Scratching his meticulously groomed goatee, Kale nodded 'yes', 'I believe some of the attendees saw it run off into the field or "something" of that direction.", he replied.

Dionysus leaped up, "than it's gone! Good, let's all just hit the hay and get some sleep!", he spoke in a happy voice of a man who knew he was in deep trouble. He felt Ariadne gently pull his ear, his body flowed to the direction of Ariadne.

She gave that small smile that deceptively masked her frustration, "Dio... sweetie......you're sleeping with the leopards....not for a wekk....but for a month.", she gently whispered in his ear, patted him on his face. Regardless if she was angry with Dionysus, it seemed by the end of the day no one actually got hurt. She turn around to walk back home, "Goodnight, gentlemen.", she left right back.

The four gentlemen were all standing by themselves watching Ariadne leave, Apollo sighed and turned to Dionysus. "So....where do the leopards sleep?", he asked Dionysus.

Dionysus stared at Ariadne with loving relief. "Well, they sleep....that way.", he pointed towards the dimly lit forested yard were many of his leopards roamed freely. He scratched his chin, satisfied with the whole situation, it could have been worse yet it could have been better. Now his only priority, is to find a soft place to sleep. Before he did so, he turned to Kale and his brothers. "Kale, tell NO ONE of this weird dog shit, deny EVERYTHING and ugh....tell anyone who asked it was leopard. Hermes, Apollo, tommorow....we go and talk to dad about this. Now...I'm going to get serious.", as he said this, tripped on a raised rug and fell over on a pile of lounge pillow. "I'm ok... actually this is pretty comfy....", he muffled.

Apollo and Hermes looked down at Dionysus, wondering if they should help, but there's a likely chance he probably has already dosed off.

[prurientpuddlejumper]

Well This is Strange and Unexpected [Toshinori x Reader] [Part 1 of ?]

Part 2 ->

I tried to resist completely weebing out over My Hero Academia, but Toshinori’s siren call pulled me in. It’s weird writing for a fandom with more than 5 people in it, but oh well… I AM HERE! 

Summary: Female reader with a healing-ish quirk rescues a sickly stranger, and impulsively asks him out. Toshi is touched that someone would be attracted to him in his weak form, but weirder still… you don’t like All Might?!

3,990 words | SFW

A couple of guys were harassing him. One of them had him by the cuff of his shirt (which hung loosely on him, accentuating his shriveled size), snapping shark-like teeth, while the other one stood back and threateningly produced sparks from his fingertips. This wasn’t what you expected when you walked into the corner store, but not really surprising—this isn’t the best neighborhood.

They didn’t seem like real villains, at least. They were being careful not to actually use their quirks to do anything beyond intimidate, or else heroes might get involved.

Just assholes bullying an easy target.

The guy they were picking on didn’t seem too worried either, despite being the most fragile-looking man you’ve ever seen. Gaunt cheeks and deeply sunken eyes—everything about him, in fact, giving the impression of a zombie—with a mop of blond hair that was just as oversized as his clothes. He looked more annoyed at his current situation than anything, glancing over his shoulder and scowling like he’d left the oven on at home.

You couldn’t help but smile at his attitude.

Shark-face and sparky weren’t as charmed. “Hey! Are we boring you, grandpa? Learn a little respect!” They shove him forward and back between each other until he doubles over in pain, wheezing and coughing blood. That can’t be from anything they did. Come to think of it, they’re in the medicine aisle. Wow, they decided to pick on a sick guy. They push him to the floor while he’s still hacking and convulsing, struggling to breathe. Your fists clench at your sides.

“I don’t have time for this right now,” the zombie growls, wiping the blood from his lips like a boxer who just took a punch and is ready to deal it back. Except they barely had to touch him. He could be in trouble if this turns into a serious fight.

His ice-colored eyes dart around the room, looking for something, anything he can turn to his advantage, like a desperate, wounded animal. A news report of some big drawn-out fight with All Might earlier today plays on a TV above the register. The cashier doesn’t look up. Other customers are in the store, but nobody is paying any attention—nobody wants to get involved.

You don’t want to get involved either, but…

The shark-tooth guy lands a kick to his ribs, shooting more blood out of the thin man’s mouth, while his accomplice cackles wildly. “That’ll wipe that smug look off your face!” He goes in to kick him again—

“STOP IT!” you shout, rushing forward to insert yourself between the bleeding man on the floor and his assailants. Adrenaline pulses in your veins. Your muscles shake. Thanks to your quirk, you’re not too scared of getting hurt, but you have no idea how to fight, or what to do next.

“What’s this?” the shark menaces, with a harsh laugh. “You his little girlfriend or something?”

Your cheeks flame, but before you can deny it, you think—they probably think a guy like that couldn’t get a girlfriend. They’re already bullying him for being weak. So you announce defiantly, “Yeah, maybe I am!”

“Really? This loser?” His jaw drops.

“All the more reason to break his face in,” the fire-starter snarls. “Then you can date a real man.” He steps in to your space, uncomfortably close, and runs his tongue over his lip. Your skin crawls. Ugh, why did I go and provoke him?

“M-miss, please don’t get involved.” Shaking, the pale blond struggles to his feet behind you. “It’s fine—” The other criminal shuts him up with a hand around his throat. His cold eyes narrow fiercely at the assailant, but his struggling does nothing to loosen his grip.

“Sure, I’ll go out with a real man. Know any?” you spit.

“Bitch!” he growls, and winds up to strike you, his fist suddenly engulfed in flame. Smoke (or is it steam?) begins to fill the room.

You drop to the floor before he ever touches you.

Then you start screaming.

“AAAHHHH, HELP!!!! WAAAHHH!” you cry in your most pathetic, high-pitched wail. “NOOOO, PLEASE DON’T HURT ME!! HELP!!! POLICE! POLICE!!!”

The blond guy has stopped kicking against his attacker’s grip, and the attacker has lost his zest for choking. They’re both just staring at you. So is everyone else in the store. Other customers are peeking over the tops of the aisles, or rushing over to help. Somebody asks, “Are they beating up a girl?”

“AAIIIIEEE!!! OW, OUCH!” you sob, clutching the imaginary wound on the side of your face.

The two troublemakers glance at each other. Then at the growing audience.

They drop the stranger and run.

Everyone is a little surprised when you’re suddenly all better, but they turn and go back to their shopping. “That was disgraceful,” says a stern voice above you. His ego was clearly hurt being rescued that way, but his eyes are warm as he offers you his hand and helps you up.

“You’re welcome,” you reply with a cheeky grin, brushing off your clothes.

“You didn’t have to get involved, you know. What was your plan if they didn’t run away? That was a risky gamble.”

“Nah. I know their type. They were counting on not drawing too much attention, that’s why they were going after a weak target… uh…”

The guy is pouting with a tragic look on his face. “Weak,” he repeats in a long, extended squeak. His shoulders fall, “It’s true.”

“Are you alright, anyway?”

“Me?” he perks up, giving a big smile to show he’s OK, and pointing a thumb at himself. “Don’t you worry about me, I’ll be fine. Thank you for hel—”

Blood gushes from his mouth, and he falls to the floor, unconscious.

****

Dammit, why’d I have to get jumped when I’m already way past my limit? I hate this weak body. Pathetic. I can’t protect anyone. Not even myself.

Everything is dark. Everything is quiet except for the steady pulse of his heart. Then he hears your voice, distant and small, calling to him. Slowly, the voice gets closer. The darkness fades. Yagi Toshinori feels himself coming back to life.

As his eyes open and his vision clears, he sees you, hovering over him. His lungs aren’t filled with blood anymore. In fact, he hasn’t felt this good since the last time Recovery Girl healed him. He looks up at you smiling back at him.

“Thank goodness,” you whisper. You cough, and blood runs down your chin.

****************************************************

“I don’t have a healing quirk. Not really,” you explain, wiping blood from your face. “I can’t make injuries go away, but I can transfer them between people. The neat part is, it isn’t all-or-nothing: I can absorb, say, 10 percent of a wound, and share the burden so we can both recover. But if I wanted to heal somebody all the way, I’d end up just as hurt. So, my quirk is honestly pretty useless.”

“That doesn’t sound useless at all. You helped me, didn’t you?” The stranger’s bright eyes are piercingly kind as they gaze up at you from their dark sockets. Even on the floor of the medicine aisle of a convenience store, with drying blood speckling his white shirt, he has an inspiring aura that makes you want to believe his compliments instead of brush them off.

“How are you feeling? I couldn’t heal you anywhere near all the way. Your body is… pretty messed up. UHHHH, sorry for using my quirk on you without permission! I… kind of know some private medical information about you now. Sorry.”

With great strain, he sits up on his elbows, and struggles to get to his feet, but is caught off balance by a fresh fit of coughing, and slumps back down. You offer him a hand. As soon as you’ve pulled him up, you are wracked by a bloody cough, and he quickly grabs your shoulder to keep you from stumbling.

“I’m sorry,” he says in a low voice, lanky bangs falling in front of his face. “You’re suffering now because of me.”

“It’s nothing, really. I only took a little; you’re the one who’s been suffering. Can I help you get home? Do you have anywhere close you can rest?”

He shakes his head. “You’ve already done too much for me, don’t worry. I’ll get a taxi.”

“In your condition?! No way. Why don’t you come home with me—my apartment is right across the street.” Your pulse starts racing. Did you just ask a stranger home? “Just to rest for awhile! Until you’re sure you won’t black out in the back seat of a cab.”

His razor-sharp cheeks flush with a tinge of pink. “That’s very kind, but… Really, this is normal for me.” He gives a carefree grin which is actually extremely tense.

“Then…” you ball your fists in determination, “will you go on a date with me?”

He stops cold. All he manages to make is a short, nonsensical string of vowels. You’re in shock at yourself, too. Your heart is pounding like crazy, but you’ve already gone this far.

“I mean, you said I’ve done too much for you, right? So, you can pay me back with a date!”

“Wha—” His entire face turns bright scarlet and his nonexistent eyebrows fly off his forehead. “Wha… but… uhhh. I. Um. What kind of date? (Is it really OK to ask for that kind of payment??)”

“I’ve got the latest Space Adventure movie and a bowl of microwave popcorn back at my apartment. I was going to watch it alone, but it would be more fun with company.”

His brow tents upward, and he gives a defeated whine, “You’re kind of devious, you know, miss!”

“What do you think about curry for dinner?”

His mop of hair falls over his face, and his shoulders begin to jerk. You can hear him laughing beneath it. Finally, he tosses his head back smiling—as his twin bangs fly upward, for a moment it reminds you of a certain hero. “OK, OK, I surrender!” he puts his hands up. “I’m clearly outmatched here. I’m Toshinori, by the way.”

 ****

After checking out of the store, you slowly limp your way home, practically carrying each other down the block. You offer him your arm for support. He insists on supporting you instead. You counter-insist. In the end, you wind up leaning against each other like a pair of drunks staggering home from the bar.

“So, you said you can ‘transfer injuries between people,’ not that you can transfer them to yourself. Does that mean you can transfer them back?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Then you should give it back to me right away!” he clenches his fist, and announces it with so much passion that passers-by stop to see if someone is being robbed. He softens his voice to a low rumble, and leans closer. “You shouldn’t be hurt on my account.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’d pass out again. You’re pretty thin but I still don’t wanna carry you.”

He mopes silently for a moment. You had him there. He bounces back from the sulk with academic curiosity. “Can you use your ability to transfer injuries to a third party, as an attack?”

“Yes, but…” You drop your gaze to the sidewalk. “I don’t ever want to use it that way.”

“Why not? It sounds like it would be a strong power for a hero.” Imagine how useful a quirk like that would be to pair with young Midoriya, healing him when he uses One For All at full strength, and simultaneously dealing out more damage to the bad guys.

“Are you kidding? Sucking wounds out of allies to use against an enemy? Their bones spontaneously snapping and shattering with a single touch? Their organs failing from an attack that never even hit them? Deciding who lives and who dies? It’s horrific.”

“Battle is always horrific, no matter how it’s done. But I understand what you mean.” He smiles. “It’s good that you don’t want to hurt people.”

“Besides, it only works through touch; I’d have a hard time grabbing onto a villain with my body broken.”

“That’s not the only way you could use it. If you honed your reflexes, you could reflect back the damage from a punch instantly. It would be like your opponent was punching themselves!” He excitedly throws a jab at the air with his free hand. “I’ve never heard of anyone with a quirk like that. You’re pretty special,” he adds with a smile.

A warmth blossoms in your chest. You’ve never been proud of your weird quirk, but the way he talked about it made you feel like maybe it was special. You never even thought about using it that way, and he came up with it in thirty seconds!

“Yeah, we could call you Mirror Girl, or Stop-Hitting-Yourself.”

“Well, I’m a little old to go after a hero license now, and naming things is clearly not your forte,” you stick out your tongue. “But thank you. What about you? Quirkless, right?”

“Something like that,” he answers nervously.

 ****

Your apartment is a small-but-cozy, slightly messy space at the top of a flight of stairs you would have described as “short” before having blood in your lungs. As soon as the door is open, Toshinori spots the couch and gratefully slumps onto it without hesitation, letting out a long sigh of relief. Remembering manners, he turns to you.

“Thank you… for everything, really. It was embarrassing to have to be rescued like that, but you were very brave, helping me even though you didn’t have to. You even thought of a way to get me to stop being so stubborn,” he laughs. “You were joking about the date, right? I promise I’ll take it easy and rest, you don’t have to pretend to be interested.”

Your skin grows hot and you’re suddenly hyper aware of everything your face is doing. On the walk over you’d gotten comfortable leaning on him, and kind of forgot you asked out a random guy you just met like some kind of psycho! But…

“I wasn’t kidding. Unless you don’t want to—I mean—not to pressure you, th-that is… I was kidding about the ‘you owe me’ part! I was just trying to get you to not run off on your own in this condition.” Maybe you can just dig a hole in your living room floor and hide in it? “But… I would like to go on a date with you.”

He’s completely taken aback. “You really want to go out with someone like me? Who can’t even protect himself?”

“Sure. You’re kinda my type, actually.”

“Are you serious?!”

You laugh a little at how shocked he’s acting. “Come on, it’s like you’ve never been asked out before.”

“Not like this I haven’t!” He blurts, then claps a hand over his mouth like he spilled a secret.

“Like… this?”

He grumbles and drops his shoulders. “You must have sensed it when you were using your quirk on me anyway, so there’s no point hiding it. I wasn’t always this weak.” He pulls up his shirt and reveals a grizzly web of scars and inflamed tissue taking up half of his left side. “An accident damaged a lot of my organs and completely destroyed my stomach. I’m barely patched together with everything medicine and healing quirks can do. There was a time those guys wouldn’t have been a problem for me.”

“Oh, wow.” Without thinking, you’re beside him on the couch, and your hands are on his mangled flesh, studying it with fascination. He draws in a sharp breath between his teeth.

You quickly take your hands off him. “Does it hurt?”

“N-no, just…” His eyes dart away.

Gasping, your hands fly to your mouth. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! That was completely inappropriate, I should have asked! You must think I’m some kind of—I’m so sorry!”

“It’s OK, you just surprised me. You can go ahead, if you really want to…”

You bite your lip. Having to consciously decide to touch his bare skin makes it so much more embarrassing. It’s way too forward, right? Then again, you both agreed it was a date…

Slowly, you examine his wounds with your fingertips. You could tell something was off about his internal organs when you were hunting for damage to absorb from him, but this is unlike anything you’ve ever seen. Ridges of scars and sutures extend from his chest to his lower abdomen, and unlike an old wound that has properly healed, the tangled flesh is red and angry. There are a few fresh bruises blooming on his ribs from the kicks he took, which you have a matching set of, and some other recent injuries of mysterious origin. The most surprising thing is how muscular he is, considering his emaciated frame. He probably could have taken those guys in a fight, if not for the internal bleeding.

His breathing becomes rapid and shallow as you explore his body. Goosebumps raise on his skin everywhere that isn’t scar tissue. He swallows, hard.

“Aren’t you disgusted? I don’t usually show this off on the first date.”

“Not at all. I think it’s cool! Ah, I mean—ugh—sorry. It must be really painful for you, of course it’s not ‘cool,’ I just mean…” You hide your face in your hand with a groan. “I’m really messing this up, aren’t I?”

He chuckles softly at you. “I’m just glad you’re not freaked out. Most people react… differently.”

“Heh, well, honestly…” you peek out from between your fingers. “Frankenstein is my favorite book, so this look is actually really appealing.”

“Are you comparing me to the monster? That’s not a compliment!” he scolds theatrically, with a playful light in his eyes—before blood erupts from his mouth.

“Sorryyyyy!!!!” you laugh—before blood erupts from your mouth.

Tentatively, he reaches out, and rubs your back as you recover from coughing. His face was built to frown, and the deflated expression of regret etched deep into its sharp lines effortlessly slips back into place over the brief moment of levity.

“Did you absorb my respiratory damage? Those injuries are permanent, they’ll never heal— you have to give them back, right now.”

“Stop worrying so much. Chronic injuries are different; I’m not even sure if I can transfer them. Pretty sure it’s just inflammation that got aggravated from exerting yourself.”

His frown deepens. “You should still give it back.”

“I told you, don’t worry. It’s already feeling better. Anyway, if I did that, I’d be hurting you, and you know it’s illegal to hurt another person with a quirk.”

“…in that case, it was illegal to use your quirk in public in the first place…” he grumbles.

Quickly changing the subject, you point at the TV. “About that movie!”

 ****

Because of his total gastrectomy, Toshinori can’t eat anything too sweet, spicy, fibrous, or fatty, among a host of other things to avoid. Moreover, he can’t eat very much at once, so he has to be snacking constantly through the day.

Luckily, popcorn fits the bill, so you both sit on the couch with a big bowl of it between you, while laser weapons flash through space on the screen.

Halfway through the movie, he yawns sleepily, stretching his lanky arms over his head. As they come down, one of them lands awkwardly on the back of couch just behind your shoulder. Your head swivels. Your mouth hangs open. You stare at him, aghast.

“DID YOU JUST DO THE YAWN TRICK?”

“Uhh…” He stares stiffly forward at the TV screen, arm discreetly inching back up from whence it came.

“Seriously, this is a date. If you wanna cuddle, just go for it.” You move the popcorn bowl to the side, and snuggle into him under the offending arm. It is the world’s tensest cuddle, as you both question whether this is way too fast. But soon he relaxes, lowering his arm around you.

By the time the end credits roll, he’s laying with his head in your lap, half asleep, while you stroke his messy hair. “C-captain Wan…” you sniffle, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye. Toshinori stirs.

“I don’t get it. What were those snake things about?”

“What?! Haven’t you seen any of the Star Adventure series?”

“It’s a series?”

You sit, sputtering, opening and closing your mouth again. He sits up as you explain that this is the latest movie in a really famous franchise that has been out for decades, spanning television and the big screen—you thought he knew that!

“Ohh. I’m not really into nerd stuff.”

Before you can vibrate into an antimatter weapon and explode with enough force to tear open the space-time continuum, he laughs “kidding, kidding!” and tells you he still had fun. Charming bastard. Good thing he’s cute.

Next time, you promise to show him the first movie. Or make it up to him with something he’s more interested in. And you’ll be sure to have more snack options on hand!

“Next time, huh?”

What does he mean by that? He was smiling but his eyes looked kinda stern, like he was teasing? It means he’s looking forward to it, right? Or is he saying it’s absurd? You did totally shanghai him into this and he didn’t even like the movie. “That is,” you start sweating nervously, “If you wanted a second date.”

He stares into the distance, squinting in thought. Not immediately reassuring.

“I should warn you, most days I don’t have any free time,” he says in a low, serious voice. “Today I got so far past my limit, I had no choice but to rest awhile… but I wouldn’t be able to see you very often. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“Slow down there, Yugioh! I’m asking for a second date, not your hand in marriage,” you quip, flicking one of his floppy bangs. Your shoulders fall. “Oh. Wait. Unless you’re just being polite. You can be straight with me, I don’t pick up on hints very well.”

“No, I meant it!” He takes your hand and draws it close, interlacing his bony fingers with yours. You think he’s about to kiss it, but he just holds it to his chest like a precious possession. “This has been interesting. To know someone could still want me like this…” He rubs circles over the back of your hand with his thumb. The sensation sends shivers radiating through your arm, making your heart flutter and ache for more. “I just don’t want to make promises to you I can’t keep. My schedule doesn’t leave much downtime, but… the hospital is in this neighborhood, so I could visit you whenever I’m nearby. It isn’t as much as you deserve, but…”

“Second date. Not marriage. I just want to see you again sometime, and keep getting to know you.”

Maybe it’s just that you love his angular, skeletal figure, and his grim but friendly eyes. Maybe you just love taking care of wounded birds. But maybe it’s something deeper. There’s a fire within him that draws you in, and you just want to see where this goes.

A PHONE CALL IS HERE! A PHONE CALL IS HERE! A PHONE CALL IS HERE!

The moment is abruptly interrupted as Toshinori drops your hand to hastily pull out his phone, and fumbles to silence the ring. He’s so mortified he spits blood.

“Is that All Might’s voice?” you ask, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“What? No, it’s just a novelty ringtone!”

“That is totally All Might! Oh my god, you’re…”—he winces—“a fanboy!”

He lets out a held breath, visibly relieved, then laughs boisterously. “You caught me, I love that pillar of justice!”

“Ugh, no!” you groan, head sinking into your hands. “I can’t believe you’re into that obnoxious meathead!”

“Haha… Wait, what?”

[akatsuki-shin]

Review: 狼殿下 Láng Diànxià (The Wolf)

I’m finally done marathoning this show in the past week, so I thought I’m gonna write my comments on this drama here.

Summary: As a teenager, Ma Zhaixing, daughter of Kuizhou City Governor, Ma Ying, met a young boy at the mountain near her hometown who was raised by the wolves. A severe misunderstanding caused the boy to be implicated of murder and the two were separated, with the boy falling off a cliff, thinking that Ma Zhaixing had betrayed him, and Ma Zhaixing, with her leg broken, continued to live her life ridden with guilt.

Eight years later, the boy, who was apparently saved and adopted by their Emperor, Chu Kui - given the title Prince Bo (Bo Wang) - encountered Ma Zhaixing again after her family was suddenly massacred by an unknown assailants in the middle of the night.

However, their relationship was no longer as how it used to be and the two were tangled in the political conflict between the warring nations.

Main Cast(s):

Li Qin as Ma Zhaixing

Wang Talu as Bo Wang

Xiao Zhan as Ji Chong

Xin Zhilei as Yao Ji

Kuo Shuyao as Yelu Bao Na

Ding Yongdai as Chu Kui

Lin Yowei as as Chu Yougui 

Notes:

This review contains my personal view on the drama and does not represent the entire audience

There are spoilers

THE GOOD(S):

1. Action

Realistic, believable action and fighting scenes, both in small and large scale. A few weren't exactly perfect, but the majority of it is more than good enough to cover for the flaws.

Bo Wang's solo fights, his duels with Ji Chong, and Ji Chong's first battle in the forest (when he and the bandits were trying to kidnap Bao Na) were among the best; those are super cool and intense. They do use quite a lot of CGIs, and while it isn't exactly marvel (as in, you can tell it's fake), the visualization and movement are quite smooth so it doesn't disturb the atmosphere and our watching enjoyment.

Though, I'm a bit sad that Ji Chong's eagle, Zhui Ri, turns out to be a CGI, as well. It looks so real, I thought they were using a real bird. :'))

2. Supporting Characters

With the exception of the two main leads and a few other characters, I can say with confidence that I love the characters of this drama.

The charming, smart, and kind-hearted second male lead, Ji Chong.

The loyal Night Fury Trio - Wen Yan, Mo Xiao, and Hai Die.

The spoiled princess Yule Bao Na, whose first impression was nothing less than annoying, but grows to be the most lovable, supportive girl ever that makes me want to keep rooting for her.

They also have two of the best father characters I've ever seen in awhile, the King of Jin and Ma Ying.

Even a considerably minor character, like Grand Supervisor Shi, was nothing less than lovable, especially when he scolded Ji Chong like a worried mother after the latter finally returned home in seven years.

3. Music

The Wolf has some really beautiful soundtracks, and the songs are placed perfectly in every corresponding scene

4. Cameraworks

This is something quite technical and to be honest, I'm also not an expert in this. But I think the cameraworks in this drama were really good. The angle, how they switch the focus when taking certain characters in a certain scene further emphasizes the atmosphere, and it often serves as a great shot to the breathtaking outdoor sceneries where they shot this drama.

5. Visualization of how the story starts and ends

Xing-er and the Wolf Boy playing in the forest of Wolf Mountain.

------

THE BAD(S):

1. The Main Leads' Relationship

Generally, the big plot and conflict are actually pretty interesting. The politics, the wars, the betrayals, how the opposing sides are trying to trick and outsmart each other are all a classic that we've often seen in many historical dramas and movies. Personally, I never get bored with this theme as long as it is executed perfectly and I think The Wolf executed this in a good way.

Unfortunately, the main pairing ruins this for me and this ends up becoming the biggest flaw that destroys the enjoyment of watching this drama.

"Childhood sweetheart turns enemies" is something we've seen pretty often, and it's not something bad. If anything, when they finally fixed the misunderstanding and reconciled, it would be the climax, the best part of the entire development.

But The Wolf sadly dragged Ma Zhaixing and Bo Wang's relationship to the point that it became annoying.

When Bo Wang first discovered that Ma Zhaixing has never betrayed him in the past, the scene when he rescued her from the kneeling punishment at the palace was so moving I was almost in tears, more so because it finally looks like they can rebuild their relationship despite Ma Zhaixing still hasn't figured out that Bo Wang was the Wolf Boy from her childhood. It should've ended right there. Maybe later, they could add a plot where Ma Zhaixing would finally find out the truth.

But no, they just have to keep switching between love-hate-love hate right to the last few episodes. At this point, there was no more character development, no more relationship growth. It's just a purely unnecessary drama that makes Bo Wang look inconsistent, that strips Ma Zhaixing of any character development that she should've had as the main character of the story.

And speaking of relationships, although Ji Chong being paired up with Bao Na was the best conclusion for the two of them, the development was way too fast, it looks like the drama team is just forcefully pushing it to happen as soon as possible.

At the point where there are only 3 episode left, they didn't have to add that bit of drama between Ji Chong and Bao Na, because 1). They weren't the main characters, 2). The story was nearing its climax, why would you slow down the pace for an unnecessary drama of two side characters?

It almost looks like Ji Chong and Bao Na are taking the spotlight from the main characters. It would've been perfectly fine to end it when Bao Na was accompanying Ji Chong at the bonfire after he let go of Ma Zhaixing to return to Bo Wang; the audience would understand that these two would end up together, and the closing scene where Ji Chong invited her to travel the world with him can still be shown without the intervening drama.

2. The Main Leads’ Hero Complex

Both Ma Zhaixing and Bo Wang keep sacrificing themselves for others and putting themselves at the bottom as if they have no value. It might look heroic the first time they do it, but since they repeated this pattern way too often, it looks to me like they're playing victim instead.

What's more?

Whenever they're about to sacrifice themselves 1). They would always put a burden on the side characters who genuinely love them by asking them for some "one last favor"', 2). They would just end up being saved by the others after all those big talks.

But of course, all of the other characters ideally will still cry for them every single time they're about to do this whole sacrifice thing.

This is seriously the first time I'm watching a drama where the main characters barely have any character development from start until the end.

In fact, I think the main character of this drama is supposed to be You Zhen, the fourth, youngest prince of Yang. He was ever only a supporting character here, but he's got the most character development among others and if you've been paying attention to his story from start to finish, you'll see that is very fitting to be the main character of a political/war drama:

"An innocent, youngest prince who was doted on by his three brothers, but this brotherhood was severely broken by a misunderstanding caused by their own power-thirsty father, and after many struggles and suffering, he found out the truth, fought for the truth, and became the last surviving member of the royalty who would finally govern his people in peace."

3. Inconsistent Character(s)

First of all, the second female lead, Yao Ji.

From the drama's opening, to the first few episodes where she appears, it feels like we are getting this super big villain vibe from her. I really thought she's going to be one of those people the main characters would have to defeat, or maybe turn into an unexpected ally, later near the climax.

But no, she was only strong in the beginning. For the rest of the story, she was only a woman who actually loves the main male lead and wants to keep him safe.

Secondly, Chu Yougui.

What even is his motive to be a villain?

First, he wants to frame and kill Bo Wang because he thought Bo Wang caused their eldest brother's death. But this has since been proven to be wrong because their father, Chu Kui, was the one who set up his own eldest son's death (for whatever reason I don't remember because I don't think the drama ever told us clearly). And then when he was brought back later, suddenly he wanted to overthrow his father and become the King? Just where and how does all this motive come from?

It would've been fine to make Chu Kui the main villain because he's been portrayed as such since the beginning, the power-thirsty tyrant who would stop at nothing to gain authority and glory.

4. Some Technical Things

Ma Zhaixing kept wearing that keepsake of a bell on her belt, even during undercover missions. How come she doesn't get caught?

Ji Chong keeps accidentally hearing everything over the wall in the most perfect timing far too many times

Also, there are many instances where the characters could travel so fast between places, you'd think they are all living in the same town

------

My Verdict: 6/10

Honestly, I almost drop it before I'm even halfway through... o(-(

It has great concept. It has interesting conflict. The actors all did amazing job, I have no complain about their acting. But the execution is just ugh...

[marmolady]

Growing Pains: Part Two

PART ONE    PART THREE

Main Pairings: Estela x MC/Taylor (f)

Summary: Post-ending. For Liv and her mothers, Taylor and Estela, a turbulent period of transition is afoot. Set primarily in the distant future of 2033.

This was only going to be a two-parter, but this installment got so long-winded I split it. So, you can look forward to Part Three soon-- and art for the second and third parts as well. 

Word Count: 5636

WARNINGS: Mentions of transphobia.

More Liv fics here: Livita, Teething Problems,  Milestones and Memories, Mutual Comfort,  All That Matters

Reviews and reblogs are hugely appreciated!

Tagging: @brightpinkpeppercorn, @mrsmontoya, @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, @quinnkellys-wife, @greengroove​

San Trobida, 2006

The scratch of her pen on the notebook was not enough to keep the voices in the room next from reaching Estela’s ears, even muffled as they were. She’d pause to concentrate; math wasn’t her strong point, it tended to require a lot of hard thinking, and she’d catch a few more snippets of conversations she knew very well she had no business hearing. Whether she was supposed to or not, she always kept an ear out for her tio’s voice, or his name being mentioned. How could anyone expect her not to? Of course she’d want a heads up if something was planned that would take him away for days at a time. Sometimes the people who left on these missions didn’t come back. Tio Nicolas had a very important job to do, and it made Estela proud, but she was forever holding her breath, waiting to hear whether her uncle would be on the front lines or safe at home. All strategy talk soared straight over her head, but she knew what it meant when Nicolas was called to action.

Then came the voice that Estela had been waiting to hear. Immediately, she scrambled to put her things together, ready, so ready to go home.

The door creaked open, and her mother was standing there.

“Estelita, I’m so sorry I’m late,” she said, a little breathless, as though she’d been rushing to get to the secret house. There was no doubt in Estela’s mind that she had been. “I had some important things to sort out with my manager. No doubt it will be worth it, but I hate leaving you here.”

Estela jumped up, already set to go, and gave Olivia a one-armed hug. “That’s okay. I managed to get most of it finished without help.”

With a sigh, Olivia kissed her daughter’s head. “We’ll finish it off together tomorrow, I promise. But for now, I think we could both do with just putting our feet up. Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”

Having slipped through the hallway quietly enough to not disturb anything important, the pair drove off into the night. It had to be getting on for nine by now. Dinner had been a slapped-together rush, as it always was when Nicolas had to go out in the evenings. Estela knew her mother would’ve taken a break for something to eat at work, but probably when they got home, they’d share some cocadas and hot chocolate. As per tradition. Estela noted the clear agitation in her mother’s demeanour; it seemed that Olivia could really use cocadas and hot chocolate tonight.

“Are you okay, Mami?”

Olivia grimaced. “I really don’t like you being at those meetings. I know you’re in a separate room, but a kid your age shouldn’t be exposed to-- it’s just not right. The fact that I let it happen at all, I-- I’m sorry, mija.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. I’m fine.”

“Fine isn’t good enough. You deserve better than that.” Olivia looked to her daughter with the fondest of smiles, though guilt shadowed her features. “It took a bit of negotiation, but I’m changing around my shifts at work. I’ll be going in for five--”

“In the morning?”

“It won’t be for a few weeks yet, unfortunately. But this will work better for all of us. I’ll be finishing when I’d usually be having lunch, leaving my afternoon free to do your lessons. Early mornings mean nothing to me if I get to be with you.”

Then Estela was smiling back. “It’s gonna be like every day is half a Mom day off. I’ve missed hanging out with you; it gets kinda lonely.” It wasn’t Tio Nicolas’ fault. The work he had to do was important; it would change San Trobida forever. Spending quality time with the tag-along ten-year-old couldn’t be a priority.

“I know. And I’ve really missed you too. I feel as though you’re growing so much, and it’s passing me by. Now, we’re going to be a team. Together, you and me are gonna kick elementary school in its ass.”

Estela burst out giggling. Unlike Nicolas, her mother only brought out the unsavoury language on special occasions. So… she was stressed but… feeling optimistic? That things were going to get better?

“I think Tio taught me some moves for that.”

Olivia rolled her eyes with an affectionate scoff. “I’ll bet he has.”

______________________

USA, 2033

Estela lay in bed with her eyes closed, though expectation of getting back to sleep had long since passed. There was little point anyway, Liv would be up at the crack of dawn, as she always was before the reunion trip. For the time being, there was nothing to distract Estela from her thoughts, just the gentle sound of Taylor breathing beside her.

Drowning in thought seemed to just be Estela’s state of existence these days. Liv needed her to come through, to magic up way to ease her through the turbulent period of preadolescence. It had been a heavy burden on Taylor as well, and it was all Estela could do to try and relieve it-- it certainly seemed to her as though Taylor could well be suffering from post-partum depression, and what she didn’t need was any guilt. In the end, Liv had handled the baby Michael situation like a champ; she’d given him a cuddle on his first day in the world, but then was happy to return to something close to normal. In her own loneliness, she’d been the snuggly little rock that Taylor had so needed. Estela had done her best, of course, but it was hard to shake the feeling that she just couldn’t do enough for either of them.

That was going to change. That year, when they went to their reunion on La Huerta, they wouldn’t be coming back. Between herself and Taylor, there had been so much back and forth about how best to get Liv through the next couple of years to high school, but in the end, they’d kept coming back to home-schooling. Liv needed a break from the social stresses of being shut up with dozens of pre-teen kids all day. Taylor needed to reconnect with herself as a mother. And she, Estela, wanted to hang onto her little girl, to hold her tight and make the most of what should be the best years of their lives; after all, you could never know just how precious those years would become.

Taylor rolled over with a muffled groan, her face registering surprise as Estela’s eyes flickered open.

“Hey,” she said. “Given up on getting back to sleep?”

From the sound of Taylor’s voice, she too had been wide awake and lying there in silent thought for some time herself.

“Mmm… the same as you, I’m guessing.” Estela reached and stroked a stray hair from Taylor’s face. “How are you feeling?”

“I… well, tired.” Taylor chuckled darkly. “You know, the usual. But, on top of that… my stomach’s so full of butterflies I could throw up.” She leaned her face into Estela’s touch, seeking comfort, reassurance. It was a subtle movement, tiny, but there was no doubt that it had been read and understood, for in seconds, Taylor had been swept into a close and warm embrace. She squeezed back, hanging on as if for dear life.

“It’s weird…,” she choked out. “I never thought I’d feel like this before a reunion. I’m almost dreading it. Part of me just wants to see everyone-- but I’m terrified of what I’ll feel when I see Michael again.”

Estela pulled away just enough that she could press a kiss to Taylor’s forehead. “I’ve got you,” she whispered. What more did she even have to offer? She couldn’t make this easier. In the weeks since the birth, they’d kept their distance. Taylor hadn’t been up to anything more than the briefest of visits prior to Jake and Sean returning home with the baby. The step about to be taken was huge. This was a full week of close proximity, with emotions running wild all over the place. She kissed Taylor again, and again. “I’ve got you.”

“It’s just been so hard. I feel like I’ve just about clawed myself out of the slump, but what if I take one look at him and I crash all over again? I can’t run away from this-- I know that will only make it worse in my head.”

“The option is always there, okay? If we get to the airport and you can’t do it, taking care of yourself first isn’t running away.” At the look of protest she received, Estela added, “I know, I know that right now, we’re going with ‘plan A’. You’re going to get through this, mi amor. From the moment you step onto that plane, you’re gonna have the world’s best support network right there. So, whatever this brings up for you, whatever it is you need to feel, you can feel it and know we’re on your side.”

Taylor heaved a sigh. “This will be good for me. Of all the things I’ve had to face… this shouldn’t be so scary.”

“Well, we’re out of practice. Tell me the last time you had to face down a heavily armoured pack of mercenaries? Or a sea monster with control over the weather?”

The sigh became a snort of laughter. “True. It’s no damn wonder we’re going soft. I’m pretty sure the scariest thing I’ve had to deal with in the past ten years was that time I thought Liv had come home from school with headlice.”

Estela gave an exaggerated shudder. “Joder. Even the thought….”

Taylor giggled into her wife’s shoulder, and relaxed there, letting the tension flow from her body. “I love you,” she breathed.

“I love you too.”

For a little while, they held one another, then all too soon came the tell-tale thumping of kid footsteps.

“I swear she gets earlier every year,” Estela chuckled against Taylor’s temple. “When is she gonna turn into a teenager that we have to drag out of bed with a mechanical crane?”

“Ugh, I know.” Taylor couldn’t help but smile. Recently, she wasn’t sure how she’d have dragged herself out of bed each day if it hadn’t been for Liv. She sat up. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

____________________

Liv bounced her way down through to the departure lounge at Northbridge airport, leading her three cousins in a merry dance.

“Can you see them?” Immy cried out. Four-and-a-half, she was the slightly younger of Aleister and Grace’s twin girls.

“Immy, inside voice, please,” Grace urged, following behind the excitable children with a trolley.

Attempts at calming the horde were all for naught when they turned the corner to find Zahra and Craig waiting for them, their flight having come in some hours before.

“Eh, look who it is… all the l’il brats.”

“Chyeah, it is!”

Craig hoisted Liv into the air as she squealed.

“We were trying to keep them all calm, what with this being a public airport and all, so thanks for that.”

“Sorry, Mom,” Liv laughed. “I’ll save most of my jumping up and down and yelling for when we get there.”

“For the pool party!” Craig hissed under his breath.

Zahra was scowling. A friendly scowl, her friends knew by now, but a scowl nonetheless. “Have I ever told you people how stupid it is that we all drag our asses back to Northbridge each year rather than just fly to Costa Rica from wherever the hell we are? No?”

Taylor pulled Zahra into a crushing embrace. “It’s tradition! Just like my great, big Reunion Zahra Hug! One of only, what?-- three-- scheduled Zahra Hugs I get each year!”

When she managed to extricate herself from Taylor’s embrace, an then another one from Liv, Zahra’s attention was caught by young Immy, who appeared to be twisting herself up like a pretzel next to the walkway out to the Jake’s plane.

“Uh, you all right there, pipsqueak?” Zahra asked, just about managing not to smirk at the exaggerated runner’s stance the small girl had taken up.

“I’m getting on the plane first,” Immy proclaimed. “That baby’s gonna be up the front, so I won’t be. And Reggie says you’re more likely to survive a crash up the back. I’m not dumb!”

“Ha. No, you are not. Saving seats up the back for your parents, or can we join you? Between you and me, the pilot’s a walking disaster.”

“Hmm.” Immy stood up straight and looked Zahra and Craig over. “If you’re smart enough to come to the no-baby, no-dying seats, you can sit with me. Mommy and Daddy know about natural selection; they’ll understand.”

Craig’s mouth fell open. “Ice cold.”

Zahra sniggered appreciatively. “Craig,” she said, as Immy returned to doing stretches beside the walkway. “If anything happens to Aleister and Grace, we’re keeping this one. Kid’s going places.”

A short distance away, Taylor was oblivious to any jostling for positions on Jake’s supposed ‘death-trap’. Sean had come around the corner, grinning broadly and pushing a small pram. The world seemed to slow. Taylor knew Jake was calling out a greeting, but she couldn’t make out a word.

Sean approached, and greeted Taylor with warmth enough that it roused her from her anxious stupor. “Taylor, hi. It’s so good to see you again-- come here!”

She’d needed that hug. She buried her face in Sean’s chest and exhaled. It’s okay. It’s okay. “It’s so good to see you too.”

“Aaand, here’s L’il Captain Cranky.” Jake the pram closer. “Looks like you caught him in a good mood. Must be a special occasion.”

Taylor felt her heart skip a beat. Her mouth was suddenly dry. There he was. Tucked up in the pram, swaddled into a cozy bundle… fuzzy hair surrounding his calm face. She felt Estela’s hand on her shoulder, a quiet gesture of support. But maybe… maybe she was okay?

“Hey there, little man!” she purred, reaching to stroke a chubby cheek. “I can’t believe how much he’s grown already. Nice work, Top Gun.”

“Aw, shucks. I do my best. Haven’t got him flying a plane yet, but we’ve got time. You wanna hold, Princess?”

“If I won’t disturb him?”

“Nah, course not. If anything, it’ll get him more settled before the plane. Believe me, y’all are gonna want to pray this good mood lasts.”

“Hello….” Taylor’s voice shook with emotion. For so long, she’d feared this moment. Having that little baby in her arms for the first time since leaving the hospital. The distance had been for everyone’s benefit; certainly she wasn’t emotionally ready for a good while after the birth. This was okay, though. This was just her being cuddly Auntie Taylor. She was looking at that baby and was just damn proud that she’d been able to give her friends such a precious gift. When she looked at at Michael’s fathers, she was grinning from ear to ear. They were so happy. “Guys, he’s just… amazing. And I can’t wait to see his two daddies in action.”

“What, you’re flying all the way to La Huerta just to watch the competitive diaper changing?”

“Can I give him a pat?” Liv piped up, peering over her mother’s arms at Michael.

“He’s not a dog, weirdo,” Reggie teased.

Liv brushed off her cousin’s remark, and gently stroked the baby’s leg. Since he’d gone off to live with Jake and Sean, her insecurities had faded dramatically. Looking at Michael gave her warm, fuzzy feelings, but she was sure this wasn’t what having a sibling felt like. This was just another cousin, albeit an extra special one, having been a visitor for so long.

Sean watched quietly, his eyes full of affection. This would be one reunion trip that he’d never forget.

“Liv, if you like, you can have a cuddle with him on your lap when we’re on the plane.”

“Ooh! Yes, please!”

Then, Michelle and Quinn made an appearance, with six-year-old Isla and two-year-old Conor in tow. And of course, they made a beeline straight for the growing crowd around baby Michael.

“Hey, Meech! Meech!” Craig called out.

“You’ll be lucky,” Zahra scoffed. “We all know these people are suckers for babies….”

________________________

La Huerta, 2023

Her arm wrapped around the little bundle on her chest, and Estela’s arm wrapped around her shoulder, Taylor walked proudly out to the central rotunda in Catalyst Village, where the group had gathered for brunch-- not breakfast, for some of the number had desperately needed a sleep-in after the night before.

It was not a new thing for Taylor and Estela to join their fellow Catalysts-- their family-- for reunion festivities, but this was something different. What they were sharing now was themselves at a most monumental turning point, vulnerable as they tumbled into some wonderful unknown. Holding onto her baby daughter and stepping out into the sun, Taylor couldn’t feel any trepidation for what lay ahead, she was simply ecstatic.

There was a cacophony of gasps and coos, oohs and aahs as they approached, all eyes going straight for the tiny person Taylor was holding.

“Hey,” she said, unable to repress the grin that was fast spreading across her face. “Do you think we might have room for a new member of the gang?”

Estela was beaming, alight with elation and love. “Everyone who hasn’t met her yet, this is Liv. Olivia Andromeda Montoya. Our little girl.”

Quinn clapped her hands to her mouth. “Oh, you guys! She’s divine! Oh my god….”

Taylor walked over to Grace, who had little Reginald perched upon her hip.

“Would Reggie like to say hi?”

“I think Reggie would love to,” Grace said softly, smiling at her young son’s wide-eyed expression. He certainly didn’t meet many babies living on La Huerta. “Look, honey! Who’s Auntie Taylor got? Who’s this?”

“Buh-buh-buh?” Reggie reached out a chubby hand and patted the blanket.

“See, Reggie?” Grace cooed. “This is the baby from Tia Estela’s tummy. This is baby Liv.”

“Ih.”

“That’s it, sweetheart. Nice and gentle.”

“Good boy, Reggie,” Taylor said. “Looks like this could be the start of a beautiful friendship.”

One of many. Taylor knew it as she did the rounds. Their family welcomed Liv with the joy of close relatives, as if she were theirs, born into the fold and taken with open arms.

The baby stirred, and Craig made a sound of a higher pitch than anyone present had previously thought possible, which promptly earned a glare from Estela and made baby Reggie, now sitting on Aleister’s lap, burst into tears.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, you idiot!” Aleister hissed, as he tried to placate his son.

“Um, Craiggers, I think Estela would prefer it if you didn’t make the baby want to crawl back up the hole she came from.”

“Yes, that would be preferable,” Estela growled.

Liv grumbled, her face screwed up in protest.

“Sorry, mija. You’ll learn to love these people, trust me.”

“You really think so?” Craig asked jovially. “Thanks, Estela! I’ll babysit for you anytime.”

Quinn chuckled. “I hope you realise that there’s going to be some heavy competition for babysitting privileges. Bubba’s gonna be spoilt rotten!”

Taylor could feel it. From every one of her friends. Liv was their family, and they loved her.

Baby girl, you are so, so lucky.

___________________________

La Huerta, 2033

Finally, home.

Taylor didn’t know if she’d ever been more ready to step foot back on La Huerta, but from the moment she stepped off the plane, she felt lighter in herself than she’d done in weeks.

It became clear very quickly that she wasn’t alone in that sense of relief. As if by magic, her effervescent Liv was back; the cloud that had been hanging over her head unable to follow into what was the family’s sanctuary. Liv had been seated next to Quinn and Michelle’s daughter, Isla, through the flight; the younger girl all but talking Liv’s ear off. Then, once they’d hit the beach, Reggie and the twins had joined them, and play had come effortlessly. Now the intrepid adventurer she was meant to be, Liv was accepted and wanted; in her element with people she could trust. And Taylor felt herself letting go. For this shining time, she didn’t have to worry about her daughter at all.

Feeling that her loved ones were contented, far more so than she'd seen them in months, Estela wandered over to join Aleister on the beach. She settled down in the sand beside him, looking over the children as they splashed about in a sparkling sea.

“This is nice,” she said, stretching out her body and feeling the sun’s rays. All this fresh air and sunshine, she knew, would do them all good, especially her wife. “I’ve missed this. I think we all have.”

“How is Olivia? Since the, er, unfortunate incident?”

“Well, school’s been harder. Actually, it’s been absolutely horrible. But it’s done and finished. She’s not going back there. I’m just so damn relieved neither of them got hurt. I never thought it would be Reggie getting in a fight.”

For several long moments, Aleister silently watched his son playing in the waves, swinging his little sisters around in his arms and flinging them into the water. Reginald wasn’t a fighter; that he’d been pushed to violence spoke volumes of just how much that school had failed him-- and Liv, who’d valiantly had his corner, oblivious even to what had triggered the outburst.

“For the longest time, Reggie wouldn’t say what the fight was about. We could both tell that whatever it was had hurt him terribly. What we learned after several long talks…. The other boy had been saying things about Erin. I don’t know the details, nor do we want to, but they were cruel.”

Estela’s eyes had grown wide, then hardened with outrage. “Oh, shit. God, poor Reggie.” She shook her head, anger bubbling up inside her. How the hell was this still happening? How dare they? “Did the staff know exactly what happened?”

“At the time, no. Reginald refused to repeat what had been said. By the time Grace and I found out it was so long after the fact that when we brought the information to the school, they let it slide. To say I was fuming….”

“And these people are expecting you to happily enrol the girls at this school when that’s the care given?”

“Our thoughts precisely.” Aleister’s expression softened as he looked out to the beach. In the shallows, his daughters were jumping over small waves as they rolled in, and squealing with laughter. “I won’t have her be made to feel alone. This is all… new. For her, for us… she needs to feel safe to develop into a self she’s comfortable with. When you told me that you were taking Olivia out of school, my immediate gut reaction was fear. For Reginald.” He scoffed. “How utterly ridiculous that I should feel as if my son would need a bodyguard in his own school? And the more we’ve talked, it has gotten all the clearer that what we have in place isn’t working. We set up our main bases of operation on La Huerta and in San Trobida. The only reason we came back to the States was for the children’s education. Grace would have happily stayed in our La Huerta home; for so many years it was our sanctuary, the place that allowed us the freedom to truly grow. I think….” He hesitated. “If you don’t return to the States, it is likely that we will join you. As you say, it’s only matter of two years, or even one, before Reggie and Olivia will be changing schools as it is. We want to have that time with him. And for Erin… it’s time she needs to grow into herself.”

“Wow. That’s big… that’s huge. So, you’re just going to stay on La Huerta?”

“Perhaps. Certainly, in the short-term it is the ideal solution. But when we do enrol the children in a mainstream school, well… we’re considering moving the family to San Trobida in the future.”

Estela felt certain her eyes must have near popped right out of her head. “You would move to San Trobida?” With your transgender daughter? The initial wave of something close to panic subsided. The southern parts of the country were, these days, refreshingly egalitarian. Reforms had been sweeping under the democratically elected government, and the free San Trobida had embraced a fast-moving shift towards social equality. They weren’t talking about the same country that she attended school in some twenty years ago. “You’re… you’re serious?”

“I’m sorry, have you mistaken me for the type of person who uses humour to diffuse serious conversations? Yes, I am serious. I’ve seen first-hand what has been happening there, in no small part thanks to the mountains of our father’s fortune that you’ve quietly invested, and I would proudly see that growth continue.”

It was true; Estela’s home had come so far. The pull never lessened; nowhere else save for La Huerta could give her that same feeling. But growing up with ‘we’ve got to get out of here’ hammered in had lasting effects, as did the horrifying violence witnessed. How much would it take for her to believe in a new, better San Trobida? If it was just herself and Taylor, it’d be different, but they had Liv. It was why testing the waters with home-schooling between San Trobida and La Huerta had looked so promising.

“My mother wouldn’t recognise it,” she admitted, shaking her head. “She would have gone back to the university in San Trobida City, I’m sure of it. She’d help it get back to its former glory. We probably would have stayed in Las Rocas-- I can imagine her face if I could tell her it’s now part of what they’re calling ‘the Costa Libertad’! Maybe… maybe she’d have said I should stay.”

“If you don’t mind my saying, I’ve always thought you’d do what you saw fit, and to hell with what anyone else advised. Certainly, that’s been my experience.”

That made Estela chuckle. “I think I’m used to being more sure. Don’t worry; I haven’t lost my pig-headedness. I can still dig my heels in like nobody’s business.”

“That, I have seen for myself. But it is wise to have an open mind and get some balanced perspective before that stubborn streak of yours rears its ugly head.”

Estela bit her lip. If Liv flourished during time spent in San Trobida in the next year of home-schooling, it really would be hard to leave, especially if Aleister and Grace’s family were considering immigrating.

What more could you wish for?

“I’ve been resistant… for a long time,” she said, thoughtfully. “But every time I go back, San Trobida is looking more and more like somewhere we can be happy and safe. You know, Livi is my tio’s sun and his stars. I want her to have him there for her the way I did, the way he wants to be there for her. It is… hard to shake the fear, though. If I misjudge it; if I put too much hope in my home and she gets hurt or…. I don’t know if I’m too broken and traumatised to be rational about this.”

“And what does Taylor think?”

“Taylor would live in San Trobida. It’s simple to hop to and from La Huerta. That’s good for her; to be that close to Diego now he’s there almost permanently. She wants to be a bigger part of the forward momentum for young queer people. But, she worries. I know I’ve influenced that.”

“I feel that’s fairly inevitable,” Aleister conceded. “If there’s one thing I’d give Taylor, it’s that she’d very emotionally perceptive.”

“Yes, that’s her. I’d rather she didn’t take on board all of my baggage, because, let’s face it, that’s a whole lot of shit to carry. But if she wasn’t so empathetic, she wouldn’t be Taylor.”

“If we were to take Taylor and Olivia out of the equation, where would you want to be?”

Estela grumbled, damn well aware that Aleister knew the answer to that.

“I’d want to be home,” she said simply.

“You never were one for straight answers. Do you know how many headaches you’ve given me over the years?”

“Isn’t that what little sisters are for, hermano?” Estela laughed. Aleister had been forced to develop some amount of patience with her; by her reckoning, it had been good for him. Certainly it had put him in good stead for handling his more obtuse children, namely Immy.

“Like I said, we’re going into this with some flexibility. We don’t know what will be best for Liv, for all of us. We can start here, spend some time with Diego, then live back with my Tio for a few months. Then, I dunno, maybe travel around the world a little bit, expand Livi’s horizons. But down the road…. If settling in San Trobida is the direction you want to head in, that will be one hell of a pull for us.”

It’s just about decided it. That’s gonna be us. Our family. Our home.

[vcepsis]

“How long have you been throwing up for?” -- Sheith, w/ whumpee Keith and comforter Shiro. ^w^' As much as I love your stories with whumpee Shiro, I kinda wanna see you make Keith suffer for a change! :D If that's alright with you, of course!

Thanks so much for the request! Sorry it took so long, but I hope you like the result :) about 2k! (And I legitimately cannot find the ask meme this was referring to oof)

(in case the ask itself didn’t give it away) WARNING: EMETO AHEAD

Keith clutched the edges of the toilet bowl, the image swimming in and out of focus. Ugh, he hated throwing up. He hiccuped wetly, groaning at the taste of the combined burn of stomach acid and alcohol, but nothing more came up.

He’d been in the bathroom on the Atlas for at least thirty minutes while the party outside was still in full swing, and no one had come by to check in on him. Part of him was glad for it; it wouldn’t do to have anyone see him, the indomitable Black Paladin of Voltron,  in such a pitiful state. On the other hand, it made him wonder how important to the party he was if he was so easily missed.

Everyone was celebrating their latest victory in bringing in another faction to the Voltron Coalition. Keith wasn’t sure where, exactly, the alcohol had come from—he doubted it was approved to bring on such a long mission—but no one was complaining.

Keith hadn’t meant to get so disgustingly drunk. At the very least, he hadn’t meant to get so drunk he would puke his guts up. But he could only stand watching Shiro get hit on by that bridge officer for so long.

It was hard to ignore, though. As Captain of the Atlas, Shiro was never hard to spot, surrounded by a new group of people everytime Keith looked over at him. And yet, that damn asshole was right by his side the entire time: handing Shiro drinks, making Shiro throw his head back in laughter, running a hand up Shiro’s arm and smiling at him—

Keith retched again, this time only bringing up a thin string of bile. Fuck, his stomach hurt. He coughed the rest of it up, wiping the tears away with the back of his hand. The more he’d seen Shiro and Lieutenant Asshole flirt with each other, the more quickly he’d downed whatever drink was handed to him. In hindsight, that was probably the worst idea possible—God knows what kind of mix of booze he’d had. But at the time, he wanted to get as drunk as possible so he could forget all about the scene playing out in front of him.

Even though he was definitely running on empty at this point, Keith felt his stomach clench yet again, and he couldn’t help but groan. The alcohol was still swirling in his head, making things foggy and hard to focus on. And even after all that effort, he still couldn’t burn out the way that douchebag’s hand had caressed Shiro’s arm.

A knock on the bathroom door jolted him out of his spiraling thoughts, and he looked over his shoulder in a panic. Oh god, what if it was Lance, or Hunk, or Iverson—

The doorswung open easily—because of course Drunk Keith doesn’t know how to lock a damn door—and who else would it be but Shiro, looking devastatingly handsome even under the ugly fluorescent lights of the bathroom. His hair was slicked back—something Keith has only seen a handful of times—and the cut of his dress uniform highlighted all the best parts of his body. In his metal hand was a glass of water.

“Hey buddy,” Shiro said softly, slowing approaching Keith’s crouched form. “How are you doing?”

Keith blew out a breath, slumping back against the toilet, looking up at Shiro. “M'good. How—how’re you?”

Shiro frowned, kneeling down in front of him, cupping his flesh hand to Keith’s face.  Keith’s eyes widened. His hand was so warm. “How much have you had to drink? I haven’t seen you in a while. We were getting worried.”

Keith barked out a harsh laugh. “We?” he repeated, the single word laced with venom. He was imagining Shiro and Lieutenant Douchebag looking for him together, like they were his goddamn parents or something. It was almost enough to make him throw up again.

Shiro, however, just frowned again at his tone. “Yeah. Hunk kept asking me where you were. Pidge noticed you went to the bathroom a while ago, and I had to physically hold Lance back at least three times from barging in here to ‘save you from drowning in your own vomit’”. Shiro shook his head in fond exasperation. “I figured you wouldn’t want them in here if you were….well, you know.”

Oh. The team had been looking for him after all. And even after everything, Shiro kept Keith’s privacy as his main concern. It only added to the weird mix of emotions he’d been feeling all night.

Shiro handed Keith the glass of water. “Drink,” he ordered.

Keith looked at the glass like it was toxic. The last thing he wanted to do was put anything into his protesting stomach, but the look Shiro was giving him was full of tender concern. It might have been easier to say no if Shiro didn’t look so damn good in his dress uniform.

Grimacing, Keith took the glass and knocked it back like it was one of the many shots he had done that night.

Shiro sighed. “Better than nothing, I guess…”

“What’d you want, anyway?” Keith slurred, the glass falling out of his hand. Shiro managed to catch it before it shattered on the floor, placing it near the sink.“You’ve been so busy, haven’t ya? Why’re you here?”

Shiro frowned. “What are you talking about? I came to check up on you.”

Keith scoffed, blinking against the black spots in his vision. “Finally managed to tear yourself away from your new friend, then?”

Shiro blinked in surprise, taken aback. “What? Keith, I—”

“You know what I mean,” Keith snapped, the alcohol in his system removing his filter completely. “I’ve seen you with him all fucking night. Tall, dark and—” The rest of Keith’s sentence  was cut off by a guttural retch, so strong it bent him over double. Shiro cursed, scrambling to turn Keith toward the toilet in time for him to vomit up the water.

Rubbing small circles on Keith’s back, Shiro seemed to finally notice the mess in the toilet. “Geez, Keith. How long have you been throwing up for?” He really did sound concerned now. Keith just grumbled in response before he was cut off again by another violent heave. He felt a hand run through his hair, keeping it out of his face while Keith tried to vomit up his stomach lining.

Finally, it stopped, and Keith fell boneless into Shiro’s arms. Shiro wrapped them around him gently, holding him in place.

“You’re ok, I got you,” Shiro murmured soothingly into Keith’s ear.

For a moment, Keith allowed his eyes to close, reveling in the feeling of his back pressed against Shiro’s broad chest. But then his eyes flew open, and he twisted out of Shiro’s grasp, the hurt from earlier making its return.

Shiro sighed again, dropping his arms. “I don’t understand why you’re so upset with me,” he said sadly, looking away.

Guilt twisted in Keith’s stomach, making it even more unsteady. “It's—it’s not you. It’s him. He’s been with you all night, and you haven’t even come by to say hi to me. You’re too busy flirting with him.”

Keith knew how he sounded—like a petulant child—but he didn’t care. Not right now.

It seemed to click in Shiro’s head, and his eyes widened. “What—Curtis? Is that what you meant? He’s just being friendly. He’s part of the Atlas’s bridge crew, he’s just celebrating with us.”

“He’s been touching you all night!” Keith yelled, coughing harshly as it aggravated his raw throat. Shiro reached over to steady him, but Keith knocked his hand away. Tears were building in his eyes, he realized with a wave of humiliation. Hopefully Shiro would blame it on the alcohol. “You’ve been by his side the entire time! What was I supposedto think?!”

“Oh, Keith…” Shiro put both hands on either side of Keith’s face, gently tugging him over so their eyes met. “I’m sorry I didn’t come say anything. But to tell you the truth…I was avoiding you.”

Keith bit his lip, trying to turn away so Shiro wouldn’t see the hurt in his eyes, but Shiro kept him firmly in place. “But not for the reason you think. I swear, Curtis is just a colleague. I barely know him. Besides…” Shiro wrinkled his nose. "Fraternizing with a member of my crew would be incredibly unprofessional.“  

“Then why?” Keith asked, voice cracking. He tried to pretend it was from all the vomiting he’d done that night.

This time it was Shiro’s turn to look away. “I…I didn’t want to burden you.”

Keith’seyes went wide. “What?”

“You’ve been so busy with the Blade and Voltron…I didn’t want to add to your responsibilities. I thought if I got too close to you tonight, people would see you as someone responsible for the Atlas too. And you have so much on your shoulders already….I didn’t want to do that to you. I couldn’t.”

Keith put his hands over Shiro’s, where they still cupped Keith’s face. “Shiro,” he said slowly. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Shiro blinked, shocked.

Keith could only chuckle at this expression, despite the fresh wave of nausea rolling through him. “You’re such a dumbass sometimes, you know that?” He chuckled, squeezing Shiro’s hands. “After all this time, you really think anyone can force me to do anything?”

Shiro smiled softly.

“Besides,” Keith continued, voice going quiet, “I don’t mind taking on some work for the Atlas….if it means I can do it with you.”

Shirolooked away, cheeks bright red. “Oh,” he muttered. “Well…..I mean, I guess that…makes sense?”

Keith smiled, the hard knot in his chest finally unraveling. Unfortunately, it also unraveled his stomach. He quickly shook off Shiro’s hands and made a mad dash for the toilet. He didn’t quite make it to the bowl itself, however, and the remnants of the alcohol and water splashed against the side of the toilet.

A metal hand was on his back as he coughed. “Where is it all coming from?” Shiro murmured, worry and amusement mixing in his voice.

He hooked his arms under Keith’s, hauling him up as gently as he could, pulling him away from the mess on the floor. Keith grumbled a weak protest, head lolling back to rest on Shiro’s shoulders. Shiro chuckled softly, his breath warm against Keith’s ear. It felt right.

“Let’s get you to bed, alright?”

“Will you come with me?” Keith blurted out, feeling dizzy and lightheaded.

Suddenly, he was lifted off the ground, and he clutched at Shiro’s fancy jacket as the world spun. A soft kiss was pressed to the top of his head. “Is that what you want?”

Keith nodded, pressing his face into Shiro’s chest. This was where he was meant to be. “Please don’t…leave me again,” Keith hiccuped, fading fast.

The arms around him held tighter.

“Never again,” Shiro promised.

[shiredwarf]

okay, so here's the long ass rant that was promised. It's very much centered around Jaime and Brienne/Jaime because apart from Tyrion they're like the only reason I'm still invested (and this blog will stan book!Jaime to the bitter end) though don't expect any sort of Cersei bashing. Jaime/Cersei is complicated and boils down to more than "OMG SHE'S A TOXIC BITCH!!!" but more on that later. Obviously, there will be spoilers behind the cut and speculations regarding the rest of the show + a reference to a potential leak for ep 5 that's basically been going around since even before the show started so I don't know how big of a surprise that is to anyone.

Starting off with a couple of plot points:

The Funeral Scene Dany and Jorah were heartbreaking :( I loved those two together so much :( Jon's speech was fantastic but you know it would have been more moving if literally ANYONE apart from the people in the North + Cersei's gang had been aware of the danger heading their way. Like I bet you could talk to any peasant in King's Landing and they wouldn't even have a clue what White Walker means.

Gendry Baratheon of Storm's End & The Feast A++ scene, would watch again. Loved that Dany gave a shoutout to Arya and drunken Tyrion leaning on drunken Jaime warms my heart. Love my dysfunctional Lannisters. Also as much as I dislike certain aspects of the drinking game (see below) I appreciate Tyrion's match-making. He's a good bro. And seeing Brienne so relaxed with her friends is just... good stuff. Tormund is a cutie as always and Tyrion pouring him a drink after he realizes he has no chance with Brienne was the best. So was the Hound acting as Tormunds relationship counsellor. Poetic cinema. The token and conveniently available Northern women throwing themselves all over any male single character wasn't on the other hand. Loved that Sansa and Sandor finally got a scene together. Didn't love the 'glad I was raped so I could become the woman I am now' bullshit. Gendry is the fucking cutest! Smitten to the core. I am tentatively confident that he and Arya will work it out if they survive.

Tormund's & Sam's Goodbye Glad they got a goodbye with Jon, glad Tormund got Ghost cause Jon sure as hell doesn't deserve him. Like not even a pat. How the direwolves were treated pisses me off so much. At this point, I hope we'll never see them again just so they can be alive and happy wandering around with the best boi.

Missandei & Rhaegal No comment tbh. What's even the point anymore.

Onwards to relationships & characters:

The Starks & Dany I AM SO SICK OF THIS. SO SICK OF IT. Arya did not cut Littlefinger's scheming throat last season so that they can now scheme and bicker amongst themselves. Yes, Sansa has a right to worry about the North. Yes, Dany fucked up more than once since she came to Westeros. But those characters faced a tsunami of undead together and them still being too stubborn to even entertain working together without a hidden agenda to bring down Cersei is stupid and PLAIN BAD WRITING!     Now Tyrion is being dragged into this shitshow as well and I just... ugh Varys why

Dany Listen, I'm not the biggest Dany fan, far from it. But they're treating her like shit! She lost so much during that battle and there she is at the table watching others bond while she's alone. Like jfc Jon I'm not saying I approve of this whole thing but go hug her or something, she's given her all in the battle. Again I don't approve of most of the things she's done since coming to Westeros but can you imagine how isolating this experience must be. Apart from a select few survivors, everyone close to her for the past years is now back in the company of people they've known for far longer. They belong, they have bonds, friendships, loves, family and she's not part of it, has no place in this. She must feel so lonely right now. And instead of highlighting that (or btw dealing with the PTSD that everyone surely suffers from after that battle) they make her go all MAD QUEEN! Because that's how you write female characters isn't it. As soon as they show strong emotions due to trauma you can label them as crazy! jfc Then she loses another dragon, large parts of her fleet and Missandei. I honestly can only feel bad for her. And all that by the hand of fucking Euron the most annoying and flat villain out there. Honestly, at this point, I support "MadQueen!Dany". Just burn everything to the ground, preferably the entire show with the exception of Brienne being knighted.

Jaime & Tyrion Not much to say here except: I love them. I just want to watch them sit around in front of a fire and drink and tease each other for the rest of my life. I just love their sibling dynamic.

Jaime & Tyrion & Bronn I don't know really... usually I love those together but that scene was just... off? I don't know. So Bronn just rode North for a 3-minute talk and then he just... fucks off? (I mean I assume he doesn't, he will be around in some form but it just irks me. Inconsistent writing and people teleporting in and out of the plot.)

Euron & Cersei Yeah, I love watching Euron creep on Cersei. Totally cool. Not like this is what she wanted to escape since the very start. Yeah, it's cool.

Jaime & Brienne Oh boy.... ok, let's start with the stuff I liked

the two of them just enjoying each other's company during the feast and just smiling at each other so free of their usual burdens. seriously Brienne has smiled so many times over the past episodes (and she melts my heart every time she does. Gwen is stunning!). In case it wasn't obvious until now: I really hate so much about season 8 but the absolute avalanche of good Brienne/Jaime content in ep 2 and 3 will be cherished forever.

Jaime's character arc is putting up a good fight at the beginning coming to Brienne's defence when Tyrion asks about her virginity

Jaime was so freaking nervous when he showed up at Brienne's door and I'm so here for that. I'm also here for Brienne doing most of the undressing. Get it, Brienne, you deserve this. No seriously though it matters to me that she pushed his hand away and then started to undress herself. It was her choice. She wasn't passively just taking what he was offering. I appreciate that in a show that has a less than stellar record with consent.

and listen I'm so bitter about so many things but I can't help but love it. I just love those two so much and I will cling to that one moment of happiness.

now the stuff I didn’t like...

right, so this is just a pet peeve of mine but I HATE the whole 'sex jumpstarted by a never-have-i-ever drinking game'-trope. I just hate it. I don't know what it is about that but I just don't like it and whenever I come across it in a fanfic it just throws me off. Now this scene itself was cute, not denying that but I just hate that THAT's the thing that sets it all off. especially since there was no need? and I should know I've read like every Brienne/Jaime fanfic published in the last two weeks. making two people hook up after a battle should be the easiest thing but no they go for this mediocre modern college AU plot? (and I'm not joking, I've read a fic like that a year or so ago...)

I really dislike the fact that they focused on Brienne's virginity because it's not in character for her to be worried about that. Apart from the fact that she is unmarried and highborn and therefore unlikely to have slept with anyone in the first place Brienne has never been ashamed of that. She is ashamed of her looks and her mannerisms and she thinks no one will ever love her or desire her. That's her insecurity. Not the fact that she's a virgin. If that were the case she could have fixed that with Tormund ages ago. Brienne yearns for acceptance (she got that now thanks to the knighting) and love (which can come with sex but is not exclusively tied to it) not some hookup. Now Tyrion doesn't know that so I can kind of understand his line of thought and her reaction I just don't like that this again is what triggers the development of Brienne's and Jaime's relationship. She's not flawed because she's a virgin and he doesn't need to "fix that". What they do need to do instead is face their feelings, share them and if that then leads to sex, all the better but it's not the point! Brienne being loved is the point and I'd have rather had an "I love you" than 10 sex scenes.

Speaking of circumstances... I would have prefered them not to be drunk but I guess I can kind of accept it. Both of them are damaged and insecure and would probably doubt the other's intentions in their sober state. Still... would have been nicer (and at least they weren't like REALLY drunk... to the point where consent would have been debatable)

I am still a bit upset that we didn't get a scene between them talking through what's going on in their heads (e.g. a discussion of what Jaime will do now and what he meant when he didn't finish "I came to Winterfell because....") but then again both Brienne and Jaime have always been more about actions than words so I'll accept it.

Did not get a scene with Brienne taking his hand off and showing him acceptance  :/

Jaime

My first response to the episode was as you can guess very negative. Jaime's been my fave for a decade or so now and it's been beyond painful seeing his character development grind to a standstill for years on end. I was willing to forgive it though. I realize they needed someone to humanise Cersei and a screen partner for Lena that isn't a zombie or a creepy necromancer and when Jaime rode North at the end of S7 I thought: Ok here we go, we're finally back on track. Should have happened years ago during the siege of Riverun but at least it's happening at all. Then we get two episodes of Jaime distancing himself from Cersei and following Brienne around like a puppy. Quality material. Now though there are two options Either D&D decided to fuck him over and just obliterate 9 years of character growth for the sake of shock OR this is a very clumsy attempt at increasing the suspense and making people question whether Jaime is bad after all. Personally, I believe (and will always believe) option 2 BECAUSE THAT'S THE FUCKING BOOK CANON. Realistically though, I'm expecting option one.

Anyway, most of Jaime's scene can be interpreted one way or another and that's the only thing giving me hope here. For example

The sex scene with Brienne could just be him letting off steam, feeling alive after a battle etc and he doesn't truly desire and love her as much as he loves Cersei. BUT Jaime has never been about sex, Jaime has always been about love. Misguided and utterly toxic love from time to time but it's always been about love. He's had women throwing themselves at him left and right and yet he's always been faithful. Always true to Cersei. Why on Earth would he stop being faithful now? I believe sex and love are 100% intertwined for Jaime and he will not have sex with anyone he does not fully love. I always believed Jaime would have to put his relationship with Cersei behind him for anything to happen between him and Brienne (which is why I was so happy they didn't immediately kiss in ep 2). Whether that's the way the show sees it is another question...

When Jaime watched Brienne sleep afterwards that again can be read as regret or him thinking of Cersei and feeling guilty, wondering what he's done.  I'd like to think instead that he's really wrestling with his own demons here (and that btw is why I would have rather had a scene with them having a heart to heart and fucking sorting this shit out once and for all). First of all: Jaime hates himself and I'm 100% sure he doesn't think he deserves Brienne. I think he feels guilty for not being able to keep his distance. I think he's aware that he's still on thin ice both with the Starks and Dany but also with Cersei. A lot of people would rather see him dead. What would that mean for Brienne's reputation? And what would happen if Cersei found out about this? So I'd like to think he's realized that he's involving her in something very dangerous that could leave her dead or emotionally damaged. (And btw why would he be planning and discussing their future with Tyrion later when he's already considering Cersei straight after sex? He would have put a stop to it because again love > sex for Jaime).

I don't know how Jaime staying in Winterfell would make any sense if he was still madly in love with Cersei. And I'm not saying this through my Brienne/Jaime googles. This is completely independent of Brienne. He knows they will go to war against Cersei. He's not part of the war council because obviously they don't trust him and maybe he also doesn't want to be directly involved in the killing of his own blood. No matter what she will do, no matter how much he will fall out of love with her she is still family, still his blood and there will always be a part of Jaime that loves his family and his blood no matter what they do (see Tywin, see Tyrion). Him jumping at the chance to kill Cersei would be out of character regardless of whether he now loves Brienne or not. In any case, Jaime knows what's coming, has no illusions there so if he's truly still bound to Cersei why not leave then. It's been days? I really can't explain this one if the writers go with option 1.

now about the scene with Sansa and Brienne. Could be that he is worried about Cersei and it's only now sinking in that she will die. Could be that Sansa's snide comment triggered something in him. Buuuuuut he does not look happy when he learns about Cersei's success. He looks worried, he looks like he didn't expect that. I'm not saying he's not shook by Sansa's comment. As I said I believe he will never truly not care about Cersei, she has made him who he was, she has been the focus of his life for so many years, you can't just forget that. But there is a difference between him losing it and doing a 180 because he still wants Cersei and him feeling conflicted because he knows what Cersei is and what needs to be done but that doesn't erase their history.

and then finally the goodbye scene. Again this could be in line with option 1, in fact it seems very much in line with it. I'm not saying it's not. But there are signs that it might not be. Like "Have you ever run away from a fight?" for example. Cause that's what he's been doing! He stayed behind in Winterfell because leaving would have meant fighting on one side or the other. He was trying to avoid that I think. And I also think he's now realised he can't. I think he didn't expect Cersei to kill a dragon or capture someone close to Dany. I think he thought it would be easier to take her down but apparently, it's not and I think he's worried now. Worried that Cersei will win and what that will mean for everyone he loves (Tyrion, Brienne). He probably decided that he's got the best chance of finishing this or at least contributing to the end. He might have realized that they do not have the luxury of keeping him out of it. Then Brienne brings her hands to his face and starts to beg and you know what he does? HE NODS TO HIMSELF. You know when Jaime usually nods to himself??? When he realizes how good, and pure, and honourable and true Brienne is. When he realizes he will have to stop her from giving too much because of that (e.g. when she tries to give Oathkeeper back. He does this little nod that says "of course she would do this" and then he has to tell her to keep it!). I honestly think this is him going "right, of course, she would do this. Of course, it's not going to be that easy. Time to bring out the big guns." He then goes on to confess all of his bad deeds and yeah again this could be option 1. Him driving home how much he loves her and not Brienne. But honestly, does it seem like that? He's not gloating, he's not admitting to this easily (the way he used to when Cat had him). To me, it looks like he has to force himself to do this because he hopes that will convince her to a) let him go and b) not follow him. I think he's trying to cut ties because he doesn't want her with him for what he's about to do. I think he's trying to make her hate him because he doesn't expect to come back and he thinks this way will be easier on her. This is Jaime's version of throwing stones at Nymeria. And as much as I try and read this any other way I just can't.  Nevertheless, he made my girl cry and boy that's testing the limits of my love for him^^

What I think should (and could) now happen: I think it would make perfect sense for Jaime to go South on his own, infiltrate the capital, get to Cersei and play some part in her demise. I can even see them dying together as suggested by (unconfirmed) leaks but I doubt it will be in the spirit of  “We came into this world together, we'll leave it together”. If they die together, I think it's more likely that he will stay with her because of the love he still feels for her even though that love is nothing compared to what it used to be. Looking at the episode I feel like this would make so much sense and most importantly it would not butcher his arc.

What I suspect will happen instead: I'm bitter and sad and based on the crap D&D have done to Jaime and others in past seasons, based on this constant need for cruelty and shocking twists I fully expect them to go with option 1. They've had this hard-on for Cersei/Jaime since forever and even though that relationship is way past its expiration date they keep shoving it into our faces. I hate this for many reasons, especially for nullifying Jaime's arc, for turning Brienne into I don't even know what, his rebound I guess. I'm willing to forgive them much but not this. I'm okay with my faves being killed off but not if everything they have become through trauma and hardship is erased within 5 minutes. And the thought that this could very well be the last scene between Brienne and Jaime and that Brienne is either right to believe that Jaime has left her or might never know his true intentions if he does switch but dies beside Cersei is too much. I want to believe guys but I'm so bitter and I don't trust them with Jaime and I do not want to get my hopes up just to be utterly disappointed. So yeah, this is what I'm preparing myself for.

So to summarize: It was not as bad as it could have been and I do think the hate is a bit much but that always happens when you get incomplete spoilers and have HOURS to freak out and hate it even before it starts but jfc they still fucked up. Character assassinations left and right, bad writing and plot holes (Euron anyone???), unnecessary drama and the usual mix of racism and misogyny. In any case, I want to end on a positive note here, so let me just point out the ONLY things I will take away from this episode:

Brienne being beyond precious!

Jaime is GONE, my friends. GONE! (seriously though through the entire thing they kept stealing glances and it's so obvious Jaime talked to her about his family. We missed so much of their relationship in season 4  :( )

Probably not what I'm supposed to be focusing on but that entire scene just screams domestic old married couple. I'm a big fan of Jaime showing weakness in front of her and Brienne accepting and helping without a second thought.

I can't get over how much THEY TOUCH each other. It's been years with nothing but his hand on hers when she was going for the knife and now they're all over each other. And the best thing about it: It's so natural. It's so new but they act as if they've been doing this for years! No hesitation, no doubt and Brienne accepting that she’s allowed to do this now, that he wants it :) (also look at thiiiiiis)

[mlpdestinyverse]

“Two Lies and A Truth”

Upon discovering that his mother Lightning Dust has restarted the cycle of rigorous, brutal flight training with his little sister Summer, Skychaser finds the courage to confront the controlling mare for his sister’s sake.

Feat:  Skychaser

Story and Description Under The Cut!

Skychaser: How long has this been going on...?

-Within the living room of her home, Lightning turns around to find her teenage son standing behind her in the middle of the room. His stance is stiff and his orange eyes are practically blazing as they bore into her matching gaze-

Lightning Dust: -lets out a short mocking laugh- Months upon months of giving me the cold shoulder, and you finally come talk to me? What, is Equestria about to end-

Skychaser: -stomps his hoof and snaps- STOP! HOW LONG have you been training Summer?!

Lightning: -frowns in distaste- Ugh. Well, now I’m glad your father and sister are out right now. You’re causing a senseless scene as usual, boy.

Skychaser: -scowls- Answer. Me.

Lightning: Psh, a few days. But why should it matter? You dropped your training, remember? -mockingly- The whole ‘You’re a jerk and I don’t care about everything you’ve ever done for me’ business? Or did you forget?

-Skychaser’s wing feathers begin to ruffle. He recalls the sight he had caught when he had walked by the back door just hours before; his small sister, flying what was now to him a hellish inescapable trackwhile Lightning coached her below. He can remember freezing in place, cold fear and anxiety striking him as every memory, every occurence of being forced to practice until he was weak and bruised and praying for an escape, struck him all at one. And now, that anxiety is gripping him again-

Skychaser: -trying to control any shake in his voice; whether this shake is out of distress or anger is beyond him- Why are you doing this? Why are you putting herthrough this now? Why do you want to hurt her-

Lightning: -glowers at Sky, now appearing immensely irritated- Excuse me? When you saw her this morning, did she LOOK hurt? No. She was flying with that sunny little smile of hers on her face, because unlike you, apparently SHE has the passion and strength for flying. More than you ever had. -Huffs- Besides, she kept saying for years that she wanted to be an expert flier. A Wonderbolt, even! -places her hooves on her chest with a “kind” smile- I’m just trying to support her dream like a good mom.

Skychaser: -feels the pent up boiling ball of anger within him flare- “GOOD MOM” MY ASS, you’re exploiting it and you fuckin’ know it!

Lightning: ...hm. You know some pretty big words for a kid who’s fucking up his grades.

Skychaser: -and YOU gave her the Wonderbolts idea-

Lightning: Actually, her admiration of YOU gave her the idea. You may be a, well, disappointing ungrateful dropout, but it turns out your training wasn’t a complete waste of time. It helped me realize what little Sunny’s true destiny is...turns out you were just some trial and error I had to put up with to point me towards our real future pride~ -hums thoughtfully- And it helped me figure out a training method that’ll fulfil her dream and keep her happy.

Skychaser: -shakes head, his gaze icy- No...all you really want is for her to obediently live your old dream. Just like me.

Lightning: Psh. If we share the same dream, what’s the problem with giving her a little push?

Skychaser: -forces down his anxieties and scowls- Because I know you don’t really care about what she wants. YOU only want your own gratification. And after years of enduring your abuse, I know you’ll do and say anything to get what you want. Push her pass her limit, manipulate her feelings to follow your plan. Anything.

Lightning: -sneers- Wow, another big word... I was right. You’re a failure because you just refuse to try hard enough for anything, huh? No wonder you turned out this way. Nasty little brat that you are, ALWAYS overreacting and saying whatever shit you want to say.

Skychaser: -knows that she’s just trying to get a rise out of him- I know how you really are...and I won’t let my sister suffer because of you.

Lightning: -lets out a loud, empty laugh- SUFFER? Are you serious, Sky? Just how dramatic are you??

Skychaser: -turns away from her and begins his trek towards the stairs-

Lightning: What, going back to ignoring me?? I mean what, are you going to go tattle on me like a little boy, crying about how ”abusive” and absolutely mean his mommy is??

-Skychaser grits his teeth, but bears it and continues towards the steps. For a few hoofsteps he realizes his mom has gone quiet. A small moment of relief. Within his head he’s already forming the different things he can explain to Summer, the many ways he can discourage her from accepting Lightning’s training. The things he had kept to himself for years, unwilling to scare or confuse the young blissful filly. But now she was old enough. And now that the situation has changed, he couldn’t risk letting his mother hurt Summer too. No. He would never allow his sister to endure that pain. But just as he’s about to set a hoof on the first step, a single spoken sentence cuts through the air and straight into his chest, like a cold icicle stabbing through him-

Lightning: She’ll hate you, you know.

Skychaser: ….-struggles to keep going. As much as he wants to run away from Lightning’s mouth, he finds himself faltering. Faltering, until he simply places his hoof down and looks over his shoulder at her. Without him knowing, a flicker of hesitation crosses his face- ...what?

Lightning: -eerily calm, but with a sharp, knowing look in her eyes. She motions around her with her wings- We were all perfectly happy before you decided to force your pointless rebellious attitude here. You’ve done nothing but worry your sister, even with your weak attempts at saying ‘everything is fine’. Because it’s not fine. She’s not an idiot, Sky, she knows something is wrong with you.

So imagine, being brushed off and kept in the dark. But the moment she decides to do something for herself, and she takes up the training she’s been dreaming of, her dear distant big brother suddenly explodes and makes some extreme and exaggerated claims about her own family. “Why is he talking about this now? What took him so long? Why is he making such awful accusations?” Can you imagine what that’d look like?

Sky: -slowly shakes head- I...no, that’s-

Lightning: Summer FINALLY gets to have her mom’s undivided attention, and she’s happy and getting what she needs to achieve her little dream. And you want to take that away without a second of hesitation, Sky? I mean, what will you really gain from throwing all of your drama into her face? Her losing her spark and being filled with bitter hatred like you? Her appreciation? You really want to force that sweet little girl to choose sides and destroy her happy family and dream for that? Even I didn’t think you could be that selfish. But in that case...wouldn’t you be the one hurting her the most?

Sky: -feels a violent tremor go through him, his thoughts crashing and jumbling together- No, s-stop-

Lightning: You’ve seen her Sky! I’ve been taking care of her just fine and she’s never been more excited! So if you’re going to keep playing your stubborn game of teenage rebellion, then leave your poor sister out of it. She might fall for your little tantrum at first, but once she realizes how dramatic and miserable you really are? It won’t take her long to realize you’re not worth breaking our family apart over. If not that, then well, you’ll be forcing a little girl to carry your burdens. Who knows if she’ll forgive you for destroying her joyful world.

-Sky goes silent, and with satisfaction, Lightning can see that his gaze is unfocused and his shoulders are trembling, as if his very thoughts are consuming him-

Lightning: -casually shrugs, turning her back to him- But you can go ahead and try if you want, Sky. I’m just not sure if losing her love and respect is that worth it. So why not just let her be happy? After all...she’s just a kid.

Sky: -with rigid legs and a racing mind, he feels denial and fear wash over him- You’re wrong. You’re. Wrong.

-Sky turns away and rushes up the steps. He doesn’t want to think about Lightning’s words. He doesn’t want to see any truth in the cruel nonsense she has spouted. But despite his denial, a seed of doubt has rooted itself within his mind. And with full awareness of the effectiveness of her words on her weak-willed son, Lightning simply releases a sigh of relief.

As long as she plays things right, that ungracious colt could never ruin her and Summer’s goal. And she certainly was not going to forget what he did, disrespecting her and throwing away years of her effort. Whether he chooses to get in her way or not doesn’t matter. He’s going to ultimately feel the consequences. She’d make sure of it.-

The description of this one is long, but consider it an extension to the previous piece “Rift”, which you can refer back to. This story takes place a year or two before Rift, when Summer first started her training with Lightning.

Lightning’s words overtook Sky’s mind and emotions, filling him with paranoia and confusion. As expected from someone going through emotional abuse, he began to question if he really was overreacting. Maybe he was just weaker than his sister. But one glance at his mom’s smug face and her sugar-coated words towards Summer, along with her not-so-subtle attempts at drawing Summer away from Sky’s “influence” every chance she could, reminded him that no; his mom was just as manipulative and ambitious as he knew. He could see through her act. She didn’t care about bonding or letting Summer reach her own goals. No, she wanted to make sure she had a pupil to live out her old Wonderbolt dream. And she wanted her failed ex-pupil to feel her grudge.

Sky was aware of the image Lightning was painting of him - of being some bitter hate-filled rebellious teenager - whenever she was with Summer. And with every argument she and Dumbbell instigated, and every outburst he had in response, he only proved her right in their eyes.

And so, Sky felt so powerless.

He became a mixed bag of pent up frustration and depression and fear. Fear of Lightning’s predictions coming true, if he even dared to mention the truth to Summer. Over and over, he questioned if his sister would be okay, or if he would be ruining her happiness. That is, if he wasn’t already ruining it by being her “troublemaker” of an older brother. And so, all Sky could do as he struggled with his inner turmoil was keep his distance. Not that he had much of a choice, with Lightning keeping Summer away from him.

Sky felt utterly alone. He thought leaving his training would free him, but instead, he was trapped in a loop of arguments and ostracization, a loop of indecisiveness and isolation that kept him away from the one pony who meant the most to him; A punishment Lightning knowingly created to make him pay for wronging her.

Yes, he was trapped. That is...until the day of his disownment.

[consultingundergroundrainbow]

Life Changes (Ch 2)

Peter looked at the napkin in his hand in shock. He couldn’t believe Tony Stark had given him his number. Of course it could be fake. But what if if it wasn’t? But then again, why would Tony Stark, world famous brain surgeon, be interested in him of all people? He sighs softly and carefully folds it before putting in his pocket. He looks up as Ned came towards him.

“Did you just get flowers and hit on by Tony Stark?” He gaped.

“I...think so? I don’t know.’ “You’re gonna see him again right?”

“I don’t know! Maybe?”

“Dude you have to! No one gets flowers from Tony Stark. You should call him.”

Peter flushes brightly. “You think so?”

“Duh! Come on, maybe he wants a private performance?” Ned waggles his eyebrows.

“I-” Peter snapped his eyes up from the flower he had been looking at. “You think so? But why?”

“Dude just call him.”

“Well I can’t tonight. He just left. I think something happened at the hospital. He got paged.” Peter shrugged. “He’s got more important things to do than hang around me.”

“Don’t talk down on yourself like that. I’ll smack you.” Ned says, slight thumping the side of Peter’s head. Peter swats his hand away.

“Sorry sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“Damn right it won't happen again.” Ned nods. “Now come on. Director wants a team meeting.”

-----.-----

Tony sighs softly, leaning against the wall. He was exhausted. His patient hard coded and needed emergency surgery. This is what happens when he missed work. Thankfully they managed to save the man, but the surgery took four hours and Tony was running on half an hour of sleep and a Red Bull. He musters a smile as he makes his way to the patient’s family.

“Doctor Stark.” A frazzled looking black haired woman calls. “How is he? Jermey? Is he okay?”

“Jeremy is just fine. He is sleeping now. We had quite the scare with internal bleeding but we caught it and fixed it.” Tony smile is a little more real now as the woman’s face broke into tears of relief.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” She moves forward and hugs him. Tony, used to this reaction, hugs her back.

“It’s my pleasure.” He whispers. He lets her hug him until she lets go and he pats her arm. “Have a good night.” He smiles once more before heading to an oncall room and collapsing on one of the beds. He pulls out his phone and checks his messages.

Received Unknown Number: Hi. This is Peter. I’m not sure if this is really your number or not and if it’s not, I completely understand. It’s not a good idea to give your number to random strangers at fancy parties…….Anyway. I just wanted to say thank you for the flowers, they are beautiful and I’m glad you enjoyed the show.

Tony couldn’t help but chuckle at that. He looks at the time. Half past three AM.

Sent Unknown Number: I’m glad you liked them. Beautiful flowers for a beautiful person. I hope to see you again soon. Either on stage or in a more private setting.

After sending the text, Tony saved the number to his contacts. He didn't expect an answer, as it was so late. He instead pulls up youtube and puts Peter’s name in the search bar. A list of videos popped up and he clicked the first one. It looked like an audition video. Peter was dancing around with a huge smile on his face and singing “Lay Your Love on Me”. He was dancing around with a girl who was pretty cute, with a pixie like face. The whole performance screamed sexy. But that was the nature of the song after all. The video was interrupted by his phone buzzing with a new text message.

Received Peter: That would be nice. I’m free tomorrow...well today technically, if you are.

Tony reads the message with a smile. He pauses the video and switches over.

Sent Peter: What are you still doing up young man?

The reply came less than a minute later.

Received Peter: I couldn’t sleep and I am getting ready for my next audition. And besides, I’m 25. I’m not a ‘young man’. What are you doing up?

Tony laughs, laying on his back.

Sent Peter: You care a kid compared to me. I just got out of a surgery. What are you working on?

Received Peter: How old are you? The same one that made you leave earlier?

Sent Peter: I’m 50. And yes. It was a pretty long surgery. What are you working on? Can I hear?

Received Peter: Do you really want to? Don’t you need sleep?

Sent Peter: I’m fine. Don’t you?

Received Peter: Sleep isn’t coming again.

Tony smiled sympathetically. He got that.

Sent Peter: Can I hear what you’re working on?

Received Peter: Sure but can I call you? The recording doesn’t do it justice. Neither does over the phone but it is better than an mp3.

Instead of answering, Tony called him. Peter answers on the first ring.

“Hello again.” Tony smiles.

“You sound dead on your feet.”

“It’s nice to hear you too.” Tony couldn’t help laugh. “I’m not on my feet if that makes you feel better. I’m laying down in an oncall room.”

“Are you on call?”

“Not any more. Don’t worry. So what are you working on?”

“Well I'm trying to figure what song to audition with in two days.”

“Well tell me about the part you’re going for and maybe we can figure it out together.”

“Well I was looking at playing William Shakespeare in Something Rotten”

“Shakespeare?”

“Yeah. See the musical is a parody of sorts. It’s about this guy, Nick Bottom who is writing the first ever musical and he and Shakespeare are rivals.”

“Alright. Tell me about this Shakespeare character.”

“In a few words, he’s a cocky asshole.” Peter says bluntly. Tony laughs at this.

 Tony’s laugh sounds musical to Peter’s ears. He smiles and tucks his legs under him as he settles on his bed.

“It’s true!” Peter laughs himself. “I need a song that shows that I’m better than everyone.”

“What about “Vehicle” by Ides of March?”

“Hm...maybe.”

“Well let me hear one of Shakespeare’s songs and we can compare it.”

“Okay hold on.” Peter gets up and goes to his laptop, pulling up the karoke of the song ‘Hard to Be The Bard’ and starting it. He dances around a little as he waits his entrance.

“My days are so busy it's making me dizzy There's so much I gotta do There's lunches and meetings and poetry readings And endless interviews Gotta pose for a portrait and how I deplore Sitting there for eternity Then it's off to the inn where my innkeeper friend Wants to name a drink after me Then it's back to my room, where I resume My attempt to write a hit Just me and my beer and the terrible fear That I might be losing it And it's hard It's hard It's really, really hard So very very hard I make it look easy but honey, believe me It's hard It's hard It's so Incredibly hard So inconceivably, unbelievably hard It's hard to be the bard] Honestly, I don't know how I do it. There's only so much of me to go around I've got so many fans with so many demands I can hardly go take a piss Be it theater freak or the autograph-seeker They all want a piece of this It's a cross that I bear, I'm like Jesus, I swear It's a burden but I suffer through it It's all part of the game, the trappings of fame But somebody's gotta do it And I know, I know, I gotta go And get back to my pen and ink Oh don't make me do it Don't make me go through it Can somebody get me a drink? 'Cause it's hard Cause it's hard It's hard It's really really hard It's sexy but it's hard This bar that I'm raising To be this amazing! It's hard It's hard It's so Annoyingly hard So unavoidably, un-enjoyably hard It's hard to be the bard, baby Ugh. I know writing made me famous, but being famous is just so much more fun. You see... What people just don't understand Is that writing's demanding It's mentally challenging and it's a bore It's such a chore To sit in a room by yourself Oh my god, I just hate it! And you're trying to find an opening line Or a brilliant idea and you're pacing the floor And hoping for just a bit of divine intervention That one little nugget, that one little spark Then Eureka! You find it, you're ready to start So now you can write, right? Wrong! You're not even close, you remember that damn it Your play's gotta be in iambic pentameter! So you write down a word but it's not the right word So you try a new word but you hate the new word And you need a good word but you can't find the word Oh where is it, what is it, what is it, where is it? Blah-blah-blah, ha ha, ah-ah -UGHHHHHHH!-” Peter stops to take a breath and hears Tony cracking up.

“That is amazing!” Tony takes a breath. “The song. Its beautiful. I already love the character.”

Peter smiles widely. “Yeah?”

“I definitely need to go see this now. I really hope you get this part.”

Peter feels a little swell of pride.

“Can you do ‘Vehicle’ next? I’m sure it’s perfect I just want to hear it in your voice.”

Peter flushes a little. “Yeah sure. Hold on.” He types into the search bar and spins around in his chair as he waits. He nearly falls off his chair when the trumpet line blares through the speakers.

“You okay?”

“Yeah I’m good. Just a little spooked-” He cuts off as the words start and he starts to sing along.

“God damn kind. You’re voice is angelic.” Tony says with a groan.

Peter blushes brightly again and looks down at the phone in his hand.

“Thank you Dr. Stark."

“Tony.”

“What?”

“My name is Tony.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“I get off at six. Wanna grab dinner?”

“That sounds like fun.”

“Great. I’ll see you there.”

“I can’t wait.”

“Can I make one more request?”

“Sure.” Peter says, stretching out and popping his joints.

“Sing me to sleep?”

Peter nearly dropped his phone. Tony Stark wanted him to sing him to sleep?!?

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I know it’s a weird request-”

“I’d love to sing you to sleep.” Peter smiles and makes his way back to his own bed. He thinks for a moment before starting to sing ‘A Lullaby for a Stormy Night’. It didn’t take long for Tony to fall asleep and Peter was out soon after.

[plotbunnie]

Mm so there’s a lot of stuff under the cut I just feel like I can’t express directly? Please don’t feel obligated to read the mess going on in my head, I just need to put it somewhere. 

So this is just a big,,, massive dump of things I sometimes wish I could tell people but either it is socially unacceptable to discuss or I simply feel too guilty to do so, or feel as if I will not be understood. It’s really a big mess, so this is kind of a second ‘hey, turn back now!’ warning if that’s the sort of thing you’re not about.  This is a queued post, also, because it makes me feel a little less like I’m begging for attention that way, and knowing that will probably reduce the appearance of urgency it gives by being all big and emotional.

I’ve noticed lately that I’ve been venting, more. Which is natural, I’m in school, I’m stressed, yadda yadda. But like- the things I vent about are never what really upsets me? they’re usually related but not- the thing and I’ve been examining myself to try and figure out why, and it boils down to the fact that what I end up venting about is genuinely insignificant, or at least mostly so, especially compared to whatever’s actually bothering me. 

I’m also always trying to- dismiss and explain away everything that upsets me. “Oh, it’s just hormones”, “Oh, it’s just school stress making me crazy, you know”, “I’m just being oversensitive rn, it’ll pass”. 

But like whoops, no, it’s not passing cause the actual root issues are a lot deeper than “I feel bad bc my teacher laughed in my face when I asked a question he didn’t like”.

And here’s the thing- I can tell myself how irrational the feelings I keep getting are all I want and it will not make them go away? In fact it’s just been forcing me to internalize them and feel shitty for feeling them at all. 

So I guess here’s the part where I actually say what I’ve really been feeling, so I can look at it, and stare at it, and figure out what the hell I can actually do about it. Cause in some cases the solution seems so easy- and then it’s fucking not, and I just feel worse for failing at it.

I feel insignificant, invisible, probably some other word that starts with an ‘in’. Like I no longer exist the moment I’m outside of someone’s immediate vicinity, and only re-enter their memory bank once I’m in front of them or on their screen again. Like my whole existence is just floating in the void and sometimes a comet passes by or whatever and acknowledges me, and I’m just screaming for that acknowledgement and have no way of making it permanent. A lot of this is probably because of the fact that, thanks to my roommates & their situation, all but maybe four or five of the 20 people I met and started interacting with semi-regularly last semester no longer even acknowledge I exist- literally their expressions glaze over and they move past me, even when I’ve directly addressed them ( though I stopped doing that right quick, of course ). I’ve never, in my whole life of being picked on and pushed away from people, felt so small or alone as I do now. And I don’t know how to change that. I keep telling myself there is a way to change that, and I will find it, and all sorts of other shit a therapist would probably say, but ultimately, even if I am not this invisible being, I don’t know how to make myself stop feeling like one. I mean it’d be nice if I could ask people to remind me of that, but wow I guess that leads to the second problem?

I hate asking for things. heck, I hate receiving things without asking for them. A friend told me they were giving me something they’d gotten with digital currency they’ve amassed to a point it is no object and I still almost had a panic attack and immediately had to work out how I could even the score and pay them back. This friend reasoned that they were paying me back, but on a numbers level their gift still sort of dwarfed what I did? And so it still incited genuine fear until I could find a way to repay it back. And it’s not that I don’t want to be given things? Because then if the exchange of things ( be they compliments, edits, art scribbles, inconsequential digital currency gifts, anything because yeah, literally all of those result in the same anxiety- though some I’m better at combating the resulting anxiety than others ), then I start getting that unfortunate human response that makes me sad because I’m not getting things, when it is a commonly accepted concept that when you like someone you give them stuff ( again, not necessarily monetary or physical- applying to compliments and emotional support and all that junk as well ), and to NOT receive those things at all just feeds back into my first problem?? And it’s this awful vicious cycle. And worse than being given things out of the blue ( because the resulting warm fuzzies do generally balance out the panic and make it well worth it ) is asking for something- whether it is something I want, something I need- even suggesting something totally inconsequential that can be given to me to help someone else combat their anxiety over being given something.  But kind of especially asking for things I need? Asking for help, asking for emotional support, asking for an ear to speak to- it’s why I’m typing up this long-ass post I all but begged people NOT to read despite kind of?? really wanting someone to understand what I am experiencing ( because is it real if people don’t acknowledge it or know about it or understand it? ), rather than just- talking to someone. I don’t want to burden anyone with my neediness? I don’t feel I have the right, I don’t feel that I’m a Level 7 Friend who can request emotional support, and I feel like I leveled wrong on my lower levels so I can literally never reach Level 7. Nevermind that people just plain don’t want to hear about this sort of thing because it makes people uncomfortable and that is a fact not many people are willing to acknowledge? Like in my experience ( and I am CERTAIN this is not always true, but for me it has been, or feels like it has been ) no matter how close with someone you are, chances are they don’t want to hear about your deep shit. No matter how much they say ‘never feel bad for asking for help or wanting to talk’ they are also probably internally praying you ask someone else.  And that is fine? Like they gotta do they own thing and I will never begrudge them that ever ever ever because Wow Dude I Get It Big Time, but it really is a struggle when there is no one who IS willing to listen?

And sure, I could see a therapist, I did for a bit last semester and I keep telling myself to find a new one this semester since the previous one left, but honestly that one just allowed me to feel like I was trying because that’s what you do when you’ve got emotional turbulence, you see a therapist- and that’s... literally the only benefit seeing one brought me. Because they seem to be more focused on “well here is a list of ways you have already tried to potentially combat this small par of your problems without actually addressing the source”, along with “do you REALLY have this thing you were told you have because you don’t have any of these stereotypical and often inaccurate symptoms listed in this short passage of a book that is my only frame of reference for it”. ( yeah, that last one is really specific but like- I was trying to talk??? about how betrayed I felt that my freaking mother was told by professionals I’m autistic NOT ONLY when I was a child, but again when I was a teenager seeing a therapist, and then told my EX BOYFRIEND before she finally told me- casually and in passing. And instead of focusing on the emotional issue I wanted to address, she focused on whether or not it was an ‘accurate diagnosis’ ). 

Like I have all these problems and they affect me and how I function, but I didn’t learn what they were or how to address them or in some cases even that I had them until very recently, and I just want to acknowledge them, but if I try I’m just asking for attention or making excuses and I just don’t know what I can do about that but man that is almost a footnote in all this ugh.

And I’m sure this factors in somewhere but heck if I know where but like touch is something humans tend to need and wow I’m very touch-starved to the point I am now touch-repulsed and while the part of me that needs support is downright begging for someone to fucking hug me for like 3 hours is constantly battling the instinct to never let anyone near me ever because what if I’m too clinging what if it hurts what if it turns out it doesn’t help shit what if they take advantage of me what if they get weirded out what if what if what if

And then the final thing- and god I know this is choppy by now and I’m honestly scared of anyone who bothered to read this far cause heck, guess you know how to destroy me now, and also why- is that I am starting to wonder if there is a point to anything I do? Like obviously there is but-- I am a creature that thrives on acknowledgement more than most it feels like and I think that I am suffering a lack of just that has been made a little clear by now so I’m at that point where like- I just want someone to look at my work, really look at it and examine it and explore it and give me deep feedback and talk with me about it but nobody wants to fucking do that, as exemplified in almost all the above points and like if it’s not worth looking at in depth is it really worth looking at, at all?

Am I really worth looking at, at all?

[inukistar]

So, I finished Episode Ignis last night...

AND IT WAS AMAZING!!

I’m just writing my thoughts here so I can try to understand all this new information that episode gave us because wow... I have been served in this story. I might be going everywhere so I apologize for the lack of structure here. 

I always knew that Ignis was dedicated to Noctis. To be honest, I wasn’t surprised to see how far he went to protect him. I always felt that he would do that. But to actually see it... It hurt so much.

But now, we have lots of answers.

I always found odd how Ignis reacted so little when he and the others found Ardyn just after Noctis was taken inside of it. As if he KNEW something we didn’t. Now we know he not only knew better (because he fought him), but he was concerned about the vision he saw and knew was now on its way to be fulfilled.

We also know that he lied to Noctis about his last vision being Ardyn going to the Altar. Even if Noctis seems to know the extend of Ignis’ sacrifice (from what we can guess from the ending cutscene), I think Ignis kept for himself the fact that Noct lying unconscious was the last thing he ever saw probably because he didn’t want to add more to Noct’s grief. Because let’s be honest, it’s an one-way ticket to Pain Town after Altissia. He tried to lower his burden.

He suffered in silence because he didn’t tell Noct about the vision and he TRIED to tell him to give up, but Noctis wouldn’t have it. Nope. Because of all the sacrifices. And there’s one thing that was made clear in this chapter.

Ignis was the last push Noctis needed.

Noctis wants to continue the journey not only because of everything they lost, but also BECAUSE of Ignis’ sacrifice. To see him hurt like that made him go to dark places. But there’s something interesting if you compare the main story with the alternate verse. I think that by staying with Noct, Ignis actually kind of “weakened” Noct’s resolve to accept his calling. Because Ignis is there, safe, at his side. Unlike when he’s gone and Ardyn uses Ignis as bait for Noctis to come in and fly to his rescue.

Which is an interesting part of their relationship and tells a lot about how much each of them care about the other. Ardyn tells Ignis he almost gives Noct all he needs to be the King of Kings and yet, he hesitates. But put Iggy in the danger zone, Noct doesn’t hesitate one second and dashes in. Of course, after losing so much, it’s only understandable that he would. In the alternate universe, he’s fed up with Ardyn’s shit. He wants to take him down. FOR HURTING IGNIS. He wants to protect what he has left (aka his friends).

Good boy,  Noct.

As much as I am a fan of “living in FFXV ending denial land”, this “canon alternate ending”, while still putting a balm on my broken heart, leaves too many loose ends and also, it breaks the narrative to my opinion. It’s nice to know there could have been a way for them to live together and even to save Ignis’ sight! But if you look at the narrative, yes, everyone dies but who dies? Everyone having a link to the events that created Ardyn. No more Nox Fleuret. No more Gods (although, that part is a bit odd because their body is killed by the Empire but they seem to remain alive despite that? Is Noct keeping them alive?) and of course, no more Caelum. Everything godly and magic-ly are gone. Humanity starts anew.

Also, I have a feeling that the mysterious voice Ignis hears in the alternate universe might be Eos. Many theories about the crystal being the heart of Eos have been heard on the internet and we see the vision passing from the crystal to Ignis. It’s the crystal talking to Ignis and if the crystal is Eos’ heart, well...

Oh can we talk about Ignis not giving a damn about the world if Noct isn’t in it? That he didn’t want him to sacrifice himself to save the world? That he wouldn’t let Ardyn TAKE HIM AWAY. And him not wanting to die without him? I just... UGH!

IGNOCT FEELS!

And let’s not forget Ravus and Ignis bickering while working as a team. It was beautiful.

I’m still disappointed at how Luna is portrayed because I bought Kingsglaive Luna at 10000%. Although canon FFXV Luna DOES have a quiet strength in her, Kingsglaive Luna is more... I don’t know. In your face badass? It’s hard to explain. But at least, we know that Luna didn’t rest after her death. She waited for Noctis to bring Ardyn in the afterlife.

And oh boy was she waiting for Ardyn to show his face again. So THAT explains why we see her at the end, doing that healing move on him and it’s WORKING. It wasn’t Ardyn imagining her doing that thing she did in Altissia. She actually WAS THERE WAITING FOR HIM TO SHOW HIS FACE.

Not a memory, Ardyn. How’s the immortality going after that, huh?

Speaking of our favorite Trash Jesus, I’m glad that they put his motives into words more clearly. I always thought it was kind of VAGUE why he was doing what he was doing. So he hates the crystal for choosing someone else as its heir mama issues maybe? and he just wants to be king unrelated to the Lion King, but he should have taken a cup of tea with Scar. I think it’s fair and would explain why he wasn’t torturing Noctis more than that. Because we know that Ardyn could have killed Ignis and the others at any moment. He also was observing them for a very long time (since he sang Prompto’s victory song at the end of Episode Prompto) and neither of them saw him. He played with Noctis, but he didn’t want to take away everything he had. Not yet it seems.

Another point to mention: Ignis talking about a Glaive.

Shame on me to have watched that scene twice and not be sure at 100%, but I think Ignis only knows about Nyx without being at the fall of Insomnia because he was wearing the ring and thus, he was talking with the Kings of old. One of them probably mentioned Nyx, but since our hero boy never named himself (he would rather spit on them), they just called him Glaive (hence, Ignis not naming Nyx when he talks about someone else using the ring “for the greater good”). That’s what I think would explain Ignis’ knowledge about Nyx’s link with the ring.

I think that’s all I have to address for now. I still need to play the episode a few more times and see if some of my ideas/headcanons still fit. But yeah, all and all, it was a great episode. It’s everything I wanted and more! I’m quiet happy with it.

Now to deal with the pain it leaves behind. XD

[comebeforegod]

I Feel Released in Church Life

By Chaotuo, South Korea

Many Christians don’t understand why they have to attend meetings, nor do they pay attention to meetings. In fact, it’s very important for us Christians to attend meetings. The protagonist of this article once didn’t like attending meetings, but later she became fond of it. What made her have such a change? The following is about her experience.

After believing in God, I began to attend meetings in the church. At that time, I often got loads of stuff to do, such as making dumplings and buns for my children, taking care of my husband, and learning Korean; as I was getting old, these things often tired me and I only wanted to have a rest when I had spare time; besides, the meeting place was far from my home. Gradually, I didn’t want to attend meetings and even felt it a burden. At that time, I didn’t know the meaning of meetings, thinking: “Believing in God is pretty good. But why do I have to attend meetings? I only want to read God’s words at home on my own and attend meetings occasionally.” Every time the sisters called me asking me to attend meetings, I would find reasons and excuses to refuse them. On a baking hot day, a sister came to my home looking for me, but I was out. Then, she waited outside my apartment for me more than an hour. Seeing her patience and love for me, I felt very guilty.

As soon as she saw me, the sister fellowshiped with me, “I know you’re busy and have a lot of stuff to do. But since we have believed in God, we should spend some time practicing our faith in God. Faith in God is not merely acknowledging that there is a God. We need to read God’s words and gather and fellowship with brothers and sisters. Only in this way can we gain more work of the Holy Spirit, gradually understand the truths and know God. Then our lives will progress. When I first started believing in God, I was also reluctant to attend meetings, thinking that it was holding me up. Later, I read these words of God: ‘The Holy Spirit not only works in certain men who are used by God, but even more in the church. He could be working in anyone. He may work in you for the present, and when you have experienced it, He may work in someone else next. Make haste to follow; the more closely you follow the present light, the more your life can mature and grow. No matter what manner of man he may be, so long as the Holy Spirit works in him, make sure to follow. Take in his experiences through your own, and you will receive even higher things. In so doing you will progress more quickly. This is the path of perfection for man and a way through which life grows. The path to being made perfect is reached through your obedience to the work of the Holy Spirit. You do not know through what kind of person God will work to perfect you, nor through what person, occurrence, or thing He will enable you to enter into possession and to gain some insight. If you are able to walk onto this right track, it shows that there is great hope for you to be perfected by God. If you are unable to do so, it shows that your future is bleak and devoid of light.’ ‘Though I may have finished speaking My word, people still don’t completely understand, and this is because they are lacking in quality. This problem can be resolved through the church life and through fellowshiping with each other.’ From God’s words, I knew that if we want to gain the work of the Holy Spirit and make progress in life, we should live the church life and fellowship God’s words with brothers and sisters more. When living the church life, we are no longer bothered by family issues, and we thus can quiet our hearts to ponder God’s words and obtain more work of the Holy Spirit. Our abilities to receive God’s words are poor, so if we don’t attend meetings but just read God’s words at home on our own, we can only understand the literal meaning of God’s words. When it comes to the inner meaning of God’s words, such as what kind of state God’s words refer to, what God’s will is in His words, our understanding about these things will be very limited; sometimes, we could even misinterpret and distort God’s words according to our imagination and form notions about God’s words. However, in meetings, there are many brothers and sisters gathering together and fellowshiping God’s words; through communicating the light we obtain in God’s words and sharing our experiences and knowledge, we can receive a lot of the supply of life and use the strengths of others to make up for our weaknesses; then we will achieve faster growth in life, and our problems and difficulties can also be resolved through such process.”

After listening to God’s words and the sister’s fellowship, I realized how many benefits meetings could bring to us. I also understood that living the church life was a way of worshiping God and also a path by which I kept a normal relationship with God. As a believer in God, if I don’t pray, read God’s words, or attend meetings, I’m not considered a believer in God. At that moment, I felt ashamed of my past behavior and I became determined to attend meetings regularly in future.

However, my resolution to do this didn’t last long. Because my own affairs often clashed with the meetings, every time such a thing happened, I wanted to handle my personal affair and didn’t want to miss the meeting, so, gradually, I was not that active in attending meetings and even felt it was a burden to me. It was not until an incident happened that I truly understood that as a Christian, I couldn’t live without a normal church life and then began to pay attention to it.

One day, before the Spring Festival, I had a video chat with my daughter-in-law. When I learned that my grandson didn’t perform well in the exam, I asked, “How could this happen?” Hearing my words, my daughter-in-law felt I was blaming her, and then she sent a message to my son to pour out her grievance against me. Then, my son complained to my daughter. Seeing my son stood on his wife’s side blaming me, my daughter reasoned with him. Later, he came to quarrel with me in a rage, “Mom, my sister blamed me for your illness. Was it really because of me? Have you ever cared about my wife and me?” Hearing my son, I felt very uncomfortable, thinking: “I’m your mother. How could you talk to me like that? You’re too conscienceless.” I couldn’t hold back my anger and argued with him. In the end, we parted on bad terms.

After my son left, I was filled with grievance and anger while thinking of what had just happened. I didn’t know how to resolve this problem. When I was in agony, I remembered the sister’s words, “When encountering things, we should pray to God and seek God.” But after the prayer, I still felt stuck and angry. The next morning, I sat on the couch, thinking: “Ever since my son came to Korea to work, I’ve tried my best to take care of him. In order to help him buy a house in our hometown, I worked hard to make money. Why is he ungrateful to what I’ve done for him? Just because of a trivial thing, he argues with me. Does he have any regard for me?” The more I thought about it, the more miserable I felt. At that time, I got a call from the sister who invited me to attend meeting. In anguish and helplessness, I thought: “Perhaps my brothers and sisters could help me resolve my difficulties.”

Then, I came to the church to attend meeting. Seeing that I looked awful, a sister asked me with concern, “Sister, is everything OK? You don’t look well.” I poured out my problems to her. Then she read a passage of God’s words to me: “When parents talk down to their child and say, ‘I’m your father (or mother)! You must do as I say!’ the child takes exception to this ‘must’; it’s definitely not an expression of normal humanity. Conversely, if the child’s attitude to their parents is, ‘Ugh, you do nothing but nag me, I hate listening to you! I’m an adult but you’re still trying to control me!’ what is this attitude? Some other children even think, ‘I’m your child, you should do everything for me—you should pay for me, make me food, and look after me when I’m ill.’ What attitude is this? Is this normal humanity? It isn’t right to think that your parents should do everything for you. When they see this, they think to themselves, ‘When I do anything for you, you feel it’s owed to you, that it’s your due. You’re so thoughtless!’ So they feel sad. No matter how much the parents suffer, no matter how much concern they show for their child, the child senses none of it. He thinks that’s what parents should do, that his parents can’t feel upset, pain, hurt or sadness. This is wrong, it is not normal humanity. If both sides lived by normal humanity, and if they were able to reach possession of the truth, with both sides putting themselves in each other’s shoes, and taking into account each other’s difficulties, from the perspective of normal humanity, and both sides standing on an equal footing when they interacted, spoke to each other, and did things, would this stop the estrangement developing between them?”

Finishing reading God’s words, the sister fellowshiped, “After being corrupted by Satan, we all live by satanic disposition, becoming arrogant and self-right as well as selfish and contemptible; there is no patience, tolerance, or understanding between people anymore. For example, when we interact with our children, we always stand in a high position, and sometimes blame them without knowing the actual situation, giving them pressure and constraint; all this is caused by our arrogant disposition. As for the children, they are so selfish that they take our sacrifice for granted, thinking it’s our duty to do everything for them, and they never care about or understand us. As a result, we often have disagreements and quarrels when associating with each other. This is actually caused by our corrupt disposition. Therefore, we should practice God’s words, learn to let go of ourselves, understand and care for others more, and have more tolerance, patience, and love for them. Only when we act in this way can we get along with each other.”

Through God’s words and the sister’s fellowship, I gained some knowledge of myself. That night, I came before God and prayed to Him, “Oh God! I have been so deeply corrupted by Satan that I have no understanding for my children. I’m willing to put aside myself and practice Your words.” After prayer, I thought: “It’s not easy for my daughter-in-law to take care of the child by herself in China. As I seldom cared for her or understood her, it was to be expected that she has complaints about me.” The more I thought, the more relieved I felt, and my anger toward my son and my daughter-in-law disappeared. Later, when I let go of myself to get along with them, I no longer felt miserable or distressed.

Through this experience, I appreciated that the church life was very important for us. If I hadn’t fellowshiped with my brothers and sisters, I would still be controlled by the corrupt disposition and live in complaints; living like this over time would definitely make myself ill. In the past, when I encountered difficulties and was in bad mood, I did nothing but thought wild thoughts, living in depression and pain. After I came to believe in God, whenever I met difficulties, my brothers and sisters would read to me God’s words regarding my situation in meetings, and sometimes share their experiences with me, through which I gained some knowledge of God and my corrupt disposition and also gained some ways of practice. So, I felt very relieved and relaxed. Just as God’s words say: “You are able to eat and drink God’s words as normal, pray as normal, carry on your church life as normal, regardless of the trials that you may face, the circumstances that you may encounter, the sickness of the flesh that you may endure, the estrangement of brothers and sisters, or difficulties in your family—if you can reach this point, then it shows that you are on the right track.”

Thank God! Through this experience, I understood the meaning and importance of attending meetings: The purpose of attending meetings is to understand the truths; in meetings, we lay bare our difficulties to seek the truths, and then fellowship God’s words with our brothers and sisters regarding these actual situations to find the correct ways of practice; such a progress is the best way for us to gain the truth and obtain growth in life. After understanding this, I prayed to God in my heart and made a determination: I will be active in attending meetings and no longer miss any of them for personal matters.

After that, whenever my own affairs clashed with the meetings, I would put the meetings first and my affairs second. I no longer considered the meeting as a burden; instead, I understood that as a believer in God, I should attend meetings regularly. Gradually, I knew more and more truths through having meetings, and felt happy and peaceful in my heart.

Later, God’s test came upon me …

One day, my son, whose Korean wasn’t very good, asked me to help him buy a SIM card the next day. But remembering that I had to attend the meeting that afternoon, I was caught in a dilemma. Neither did I want to miss the meeting nor refuse my son. When I was perplexed, I poured out my difficulty to a sister, hoping to get her understanding of my absence from the meeting. Unexpectedly, after hearing my difficulty, she fellowshiped with me, “God is the Lord of creation. No matter what we encounter, we should honor God as great and learn to rely on and look to Him. Whatever things we are faced with, we shouldn’t reach a verdict hastily or make our own choice. Instead, we should seek how to accord with God’s will and satisfy Him. Only in this way can we see God’s deeds. Today, faced with this matter, you should entrust it to God, because all things and matters are in His hands. As the Bible says, ‘The king’s heart is in the hand of Jehovah, as the rivers of water: he turns it wherever he will’ (Proverbs 21:1). Besides, we should stand witness for God in everything we encounter. Just like when Abraham offered up Isaac, God saw Abraham’s true heart, and then He made a way out for Abraham and prepared a sacrifice for him. Though what we are encountering is just a small thing, we should still accept God’s tests and have faith to stand witness for God. Let’s pray to God, telling Him our difficulties and thoughts and beg Him to lead us. As long as we have faith in God, we’ll see His deeds.” After listening to her fellowship, I found the way to practice.

After returning home I prayed to God, “O God! My son asked me to accompany him to buy a SIM card, but I want to attend the meeting. Faced with this dilemma, I don’t know what to do. O God! I’m willing to entrust all of this to You and satisfy You first. May You lead me and give me a way out.” After prayer, I still couldn’t completely put this matter aside. And I thought to myself, “I might as well urge my son to set out earlier; if he doesn’t agree, then I will attend the meeting first and then handle his affair. Satisfying God is my first priority.” When I thought like this, my daughter suddenly called me, saying, “Mom, I will buy the SIM card for my brother. I can drive there. It won’t take long. Don’t worry.” After hanging up the phone, I was so happy that I almost jumped up, and I kept thanking God in my heart. Since I had the quarrel with my son, my daughter hadn’t spoken to him for a long time. It was amazing that she could offer to help him. At that time not only had their relationship gotten better, but I could attend the meeting. Through this experience, I saw that as long as I was willing to rely on God and satisfy God, He would open up a way for me. As God’s words say, “God does not ask much of man. All that God asks of man is meant to be achieved easily and happily; it is just that man is unwilling to suffer hardships.”

In the past, I was always afraid that it would impede my handling personal affairs to attend meetings. But now, I have experienced that I can understand more truths through gatherings without interfering with my normal life. Before, because I had no truth, I couldn’t see through anything. So, in face of difficulties, I would only complain and live in pain. But now, when encountering things, I would rely on God consciously and ask Him to lead me, after which I would often find a way to resolve my difficulties and feel much more released and free. And through reading and fellowshiping God’s words in meetings, I have gained some understanding of God’s will for the salvation of man, God’s way of working, and my own corruptions. Thank God! I’ve really benefited a lot through leading a church life.