#and then go on to firmly believe that things should end/die at the peak of their ability

[hirazuki]

Bleach (canon) has been dead to me since the last two chapters of the manga, but as it is the series I gave my whole heart to, I feel obligated to at least check out any new content. And unfortunately for you all, that means me sharing my thoughts on this platform XD

Under a cut as usual and in no particular order!

First things first, the most obvious element -- the art: it’s not bad, of course, but it’s definitely not the quality I associate with Bleach. I can’t pinpoint what it is, exactly, but something’s missing. Idk. Kubo’s art has always been godly, very fluid and clean and compelling, probably holds the top spot out of any artist for being the most aesthetically pleasing to my senses. It’s a big part of what always gave this series such a timeless feel for me; kind of like the manga art equivalent of classical Roman marble sculpture, but full of life. And this is, like... not. It looks similar, visually, but it lacks the spark his old art had. It actually pains me to write this :/

His design concepts, on the other hand, are still magnificent. Szayel’s hell-sified look is 100% fire. I imagine Ukitake’s to be the same; we only got a glimpse of one of his swords, and the aesthetic was A+.

“Hollow killing festival” sounds just about right for a Soul Society ritual lmao. I am all for exposing the dark side of the Gotei 13.

It’s really nice to see Mayuri going strong, better than ever. The man cannot be stopped. Poor Hisagi.

I’m not sold on the hollow-you-can’t-sense deal yet. It really depends how it’s executed. It could turn out to be an Ootsutsuki type of situation, in which case I’ll happily accept it, or turn into one of those super lame we had to raise the stakes higher for this new series that didn’t need to happen in the first place to the point that nothing makes sense and is divorced from pre-established canon (*cough*Yashahime*cough*)   ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ We’ll see.

However, the idea that the war with Yhwach and the death of so many characters with insanely high concentrations of reiatsu destabilized the balance of the worlds enough for the door to open up on Hell’s side is something that’s totally in line with Bleach’s worldbuilding and an exciting development.

Szayel would absolutely crawl his way up in Hell and then out of it. He has my full support and blessings. You go, you pink-haired menace <3

I’ve been side-eyeing those butterflies since the early days, guys. I feel vindicated.

And, by far the most important point: if captains have a rei number of 3 and above, which means that their reishi is so densely concentrated it cannot disperse naturally back into the earth and Shinigami have to undertake a ritual into order to remove them from this world, and the Espada are the equivalent of captain rank or even higher; and if hollow/arrancar either 1. get absorbed if killed/eaten by another hollow, 2. get purified by a zanpakuto and their souls return to the cycle, or 3. are cast into hell when killed, if they were sinful enough to not be able to be purified and return to the soul cycle; then, it follows that an Espada, that was not killed by any of these means and merely dispersed into the atmosphere, is still hanging around with us ✌️ It’s 2021, I have been holding onto him for years, and I will not budge on this XD

It was fun seeing everyone and the individual characterizations were great, but character dynamics felt off. There was quite a bit of awkwardness, for me, in, say, Ichigo and Renji’s banter, Ichigo’s conversation with Rukia, etc. Idk, things just felt stale and didn’t have the easy flow to them that they used to. It may just be that Kubo hasn’t written them for so long that he needs to warm up a bit, but... meh.

I, sadly, had no reaction to anyone in the Gotei 13 other than Mayuri, while I’m still all about the hollow, so I guess Soul Society stuff is still tainted for me by the ending haha.

Overall, I’m way more into the concepts presented rather than my faves coming back at this point, which, this being Bleach we’re talking about, is utterly insane to think I would say such a thing. I’ll give it a try and keep reading, but I’m not too hopeful. I’ll probably just take the elements I like from it to use in my fanart/fanfic, and call it a day!

[yandere-sins]

Remember that Beast!Reader fic with the yandere prince? I loved that one! Can I please request ‘Tears’ from your prompt list for this please?

I was thinking that maybe a few years pass by while the reader is still stuck in beast form, but during that time the person appointed as an alternative caretaker for the reader (obviously the prince can’t be around ALL the time if he has to maintain his kingdom and keep up his image) slowly starts forming a friendly relationship and with even something as small as a forehead kiss to the beast, it is enough to break the curse. But the two don’t get enough time to celebrate before the prince barges in👀

I’m uncomfortable with nsfw and anything too sexual but I enjoy the creepiness and horror that follows a yandere character so I hope you can write it like that please😭🥺 Oh! And please let there be some hope that the reader will either be saved or she saves herself. Even better if the reader decides that she wants to save herself and the boy who broke her curse🤩

Thank you! So sorry if I’m requesting a lot😭🙏

Oh, my sweet little anons, when was the last time I gave you a happy end, huh? But thanks for requesting a continuation, I am glad you all enjoyed it so much ^-^ What a good idea you had there!

Tears - “Sweetie, don’t cry.. they didn’t love you as much as I did.. I’ll help you over the heart break.” 

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Panting, you urged your legs forward, always one step further than you made at a time. The chilly night air burnt in your lungs, and your bare feet were icy and wet from the forest ground, but neither you nor the person holding your hand so gently in his thought about stopping. Only wrapped in a big rag, you should have been cold, but when he squeezed your hand encouragingly, you believed you could manage it all.

It hadn’t been too long since you started your way on foot down the hill the old castle sat upon. Sooner or later, the prince would find out you escaped, and surely, they would also notice your Beloved having fled the scene. There had been no reason for him to stay. Losing you was enough to get sentenced to death, his lifeless body thrown into a bog rather than buried. So why wouldn’t he leave with you? There certainly was no reason for him to stay in the wretched service of the king. 

But sooner or later, they would come for you, that much was sure.

So, you two had to hurry, but even so, you couldn’t keep from smiling, especially when he looked back over his shoulder, his warm, green eyes shining without any regrets. You two had known each other far too little, but he never once hesitated to show you his affection for you, even when you still were the hideous atrocity that you had turned into to escape the prince for the first time.

Perhaps, everything that happened was fate. Even if it had been harsh and awful, it happened so that you two could meet and start a better life together somewhere new. Even if you wished now that you two could have met under different circumstances, now, you didn’t regret your life from before anymore. Now, you could simply look ahead to the future that waited for you.

Or so you thought; you should have known better.

The soaring of arrows pierced through the silence of the night. One hit the bark of the tree before you, fire spreading from its alcohol-soaked peak. Your eye widened, as did you’re companions, and you soon found yourself ducking as another one flew over your heads.

You couldn’t spare a second to look back over your shoulder as you two urged onwards, picking up the pace. Your legs were tired and shaking, but you knew that you had to go faster and faster, or else you or he would get hit. It were moments like these in which you wished you were still a beast. One which could run faster than any arrow. One that could fight and protect what was important to you. But that was no longer, true love’s kiss having sealed that specific fate already.

It was too late when you realized that the arrows so far had not been to stop you two from getting away. Instead, as they began to light up tree after tree, you realized they were there to banish the secrecy of the forest and make the dark disappear. At the same time, they made you two run into the directions your followers wanted you to go. If you looked back now, you knew who you’d see, no robbers smart enough to roam the forest around the prince’s castle, so there really was no reason for any other armed party to hunt you down.

And yet, you did, too afraid that if you didn’t, things would go way worse. 

The moment you looked over your shoulder, another arrow flew past you, grazing your cheek. You knew where it would hit way before your companion cried out in pain, his hand letting go of yours as a reflex. He sank to his knee for a moment, cursing under his breath as you hurried to his side, seeing the arrow lodged in his shoulder. “Oh god,” you stammered as you sank next to him, hands hovering over the wound. “W-We can fix it, I’m sure, we just have to--!”

“There’s no time!” he interrupted you firmly as if he hadn’t just been shot with an arrow. Without wasting even another second, he got up again, grabbed you by the wrist, and moved forward. You caught a glimpse at his face, determination brimming from his features, but pearls of sweat collected at his forehead. He was clearly in pain, showing it in the way he held his own shoulder with his free hand, but he hadn’t given up yet. He would move on until you two were safe, and though you sympathized with his pain, you were so thankful he didn’t give up yet.

You two ran as fast as you could, but soon you couldn’t ignore the sound of armor behind you anymore, hooves trotting closer while torches lit up the forest more and more. It was almost spooky that no words were muttered, and you expected someone to call orders every now and then, but you had seen the clothes of your followers briefly; you knew who they were. The prince’s guards, clad in the finest silver and trained to the point of being nothing more than human dogs. They ceased speaking if not absolutely necessary, their eyes were soulless, and their hearts without a hint of benevolence. Them being after you could only mean one thing.

The prince wanted you back.

Another arrow getting stuck in the tree you just passed. You knew everything they did wasn’t fun but coldly calculated tactics. They wouldn’t hurt you. They couldn’t. Your cheek bleeding would probably cause one of them to get degraded to a chair for three months at least, so they really couldn’t afford to hurt you more seriously. But they did know who they could hurt you with. Someone whose pain would hurt you more than your own.

The next arrow missed completely, lost in the leaves on the ground. You two were running out of all the adrenaline you had, slowly and surely having exhaustion catch up to you. No! Please no! You begged the entities above that this wouldn’t be the end! There was so much more to live for, so much to see and experience! You wanted to be with your former caretaker, the only one who ever took you and your feelings seriously enough. You two could build a house and keep far away from the hustle and bustle of the cities, farming and taking care of livestock until the end of time. So please! Don’t let this be the end of it!

However, against your expectations, the one to collapse first was him. This time, the arrows didn’t miss, one hitting him in the lower back, one scarily close to his spine. Teardrops pearled from your cheeks as you fell into to mud with him, your hands scrapping along the roots and stones of the ground as you crawled back to where he laid, softly whimpering. Reaching for an arrow, you wanted to pull it out in desperation, but he began to cry out in pain before you could even start pulling.

“LEAVE!” he screamed. “LEAVE AND RUN!”

You couldn’t hold back the sobs hearing these words. “Please...” his hand reached for yours as he tried his best to look up to you. “Go, find a safe place to hide! Leave for another country and never come back!”

“No...” you sobbed, bringing one hand covered in mud and blood to your face. “I don’t want to leave you...”

“They are after you, not me,” he tried to reassure you, but you knew better. The sounds of their heavy footsteps drew closer and closer, and finding him, they wouldn’t hesitate to kill this ‘traitor’. If you went, then he’d die. But if you stayed and got caught, he’d die as well. No choice you could make would end happily for the both of you. “Please, go. I want you to-- ARGH!” Interrupted by his own scream, you began to panic, calling his name and shaking his arm, only to look up as a shadow was cast over you.

“[Name],” the prince sighed, relief showing in his face. He had this small, exhausted smile on his lips, happiness in his features as he looked at you. However, the moment he looked down at your companion, his face began to contort into a hateful grimace, his leg lifting once more to give your Beloved’s back a not-so-gentle kick. “No! Stop!” you cried, latching onto his leg as the kicks came down, your partner’s screams echoing through the forest.

“Don’t worry, I will get rid of the scoundrel who kidnapped you. I will save you! Just like I always do!”

“No! You’re hurting him! Stop it! Please... Please stop!”

Never had you imagined that you’d ever find yourself so low again that you’d beg the prince for something. Before, it had been for your life, but now, it was for the life of the only person that really mattered to you. “Oh, Sweetheart,” the prince cooed, his fingers finding their way under your chin, pulling your face up to meet his eyes. “Don’t cry... he didn’t love you as much as I do. I’ll help you over the heartbreak once we’re done here.”

The prince let go roughly as he pulled his sword from his sheath as you fell to the ground next to your partner. For a moment, time seemed to stop as you stood up in a matter of seconds. Panicked, you decided to throw yourself in front of the sword instead, but a hand grabbed yours before you could. Looking down at your Beloved, smiling warmly and encouraging as he muttered the final words you’d hear from him.

“Go.”

It was like he set you free, even if your definition of free originally included him. “Eh, Darling?!” you heard as you took off in a second spurt of adrenaline, the prince screaming your name after you. But your mind completely shut off the moment you passed the last lit-up arrow, sinking back into the darkness. Everything was blurry, your vision stained with your tears that wouldn’t go away no matter how much you rubbed your eyes with your dirty hands.

Your feet must have started bleeding as you kept running faster and faster, but you gave them no mind, not even feeling the pain. All you felt was the wound in your throbbing heart, something that the prince couldn’t heal no matter how much he believed he could. You wanted to understand your former caretaker’s action, telling you to go rather than defend him. If you had been in his place, surely, you had done the same. But it was as if you were the one who got betrayed by yourself by running away. By giving up on something hopeless, you felt like you were betraying everything you had ever stand for. How pathetic you were, running, trying to get the better future you had hoped to build with him.

Next thing you knew, you stumbled as the ground gave away to a slope before you, your body tumbling down the wet leaves and sturdy roots, your skim getting scratched by the branches of bushes all around you. It was pure luck that your fingers closed around one big tree root the moment they did; otherwise, you surely would have fallen from the cliff that opened up beneath you, instead of just hanging on to it now.

Only now your ears regained their function, the rushing of waves sounding far too deep and far too rough beneath you as to simply be a river. Had you run all the way to the shore? Was it the big sea beneath you? Either it had been closer than you thought, or you did develop some superhuman abilities after changing into a beast.

Groaning, you tried to pull yourself back over the edge, the slightly forward-leaning stone not being any help in rescuing yourself. Even more so, you had to realize the light of torches drawing closer and closer by the second, while you still struggled to escape the death by falling into the unruly water from a great height.

“[Name]!” you heard the screech of your name, genuine worry resounding from it. The prince’s face was the last thing you wanted to see, especially as he looked so damn horrified at the sight of you barely holding on to the cliff. “Don’t move! I’ll pull you up!” he called as he slit down the slope as best as he could without falling himself until he reached you. It was strange. You should have been happy that you wouldn’t be dying. That someone would save you from this horrific fate.

But all you felt was pure despair.

If he pulled you up, then that would be it. He’d take you back, lock you up again and do as he pleased with you. Who knew if you’d ever get a chance on escaping again, especially if he made an example out of your previous companion about what would happen if anyone ever helped you. You’d have nothing left but to live your life as a mere plaything, captured by the prince that was so beloved by everyone, and you didn’t want to think about all the things he’d do to you now that you were human again.

His hands reached out, and you noticed them faintly in your vision. Your decision fell only seconds before he could grab you by the arms. It was too dark to see, too dark to even speculate how deep it was, but you decided it was better than becoming an empty shell of a person if you stayed with the prince.

No matter what would await you in the depths down below, it couldn’t be worse than being a subject to his twisted, self-righteous love, you decide. Letting go was easier than you thought, making you realize your body must understand this situation very well even if it might cost it its life. The face of the prince as you slipped from his grasp was a priceless last sight to see before you closed your eyes, awaiting the inevitable.

Until your back hit the water, engulfing you wholly like the hungry, desperate maw of an animal. Deeper and deeper until it was everywhere, and only then you opened your eyes again for one last glimpse of the blurred light above.

[awhitehead17]

Batfam Alphabet: L - Language 

Summary: Jason doesn’t hesitate to drag his brothers down with him when Bruce starts reprimanding him about the type of language he uses on a daily basis. 

Enjoy! :D 

“Well this is just a load of bullshit! Why do they have to intervene? We’re perfectly capable of handling this.” Jason huffs and crosses his arms over his chest as he leans back in his chair. He can’t believe what he's hearing.

On the opposite side of the table Bruce levels him with a hard look. “Watch your language Jason.”

Jason blinks before sitting up straight. “What, it’s not like the kid is currently around to overhear."

“Jason!”

Glaring at the man, Jason scowls. This seems to be a regular topic of conversation between them recently because according to Bruce Jason swears too much, especially when he’s around Damian. The man, for whatever reason, wants Jason to be a good role model for the kid and apparently that includes him not swearing.

So now anytime he swears, Bruce points it out with a matching scolding tone and expression.

It’s a ridiculous notion because Jason being who he is was brought up with swearing, living on the streets for so many years exposed him to all kinds of things, one of which being the language people use. Swearing is just part of his vocabulary, half of the time he isn’t even aware he is doing it. As long as he’s not swearing at someone, then surely there should be some leniency.

“Oh come on!” He exclaims with a wave of his hands. “He’s been raised as an assassin, he was already tainted before we even met. Me saying a few words isn’t doing any harm.”

Before Bruce could respond a new voice joins the conversation. “To be fair you do swear a lot. Maybe you should try and tone it down.”

Jason turns to his right to glare at his older brother who’s lounging comfortably next to him. “Oh fuck off, Dick, no one asked for your opinion.”

Dick stares back unimpressed, he raises both eyebrows as if to say, “really?”

Jason recalls what he said and grits his teeth.

He points menacingly at Dick. “That doesn’t prove anything. Quite frankly I grew up in Crime Alley, of course I’m gonna swear, you hear it every minute in that place and typically as a kid you’re gonna pick up the habit. You know what they say old habits die hard.”

“Just like you did?” A different voice retorts with a snort.

Jason switches his gaze to Tim, who is opposite him next to Bruce currently playing with his phone, and blinks at him in surprise. “Uh, excuse me? I don’t know whether to be insulted or proud by that.”

It’s usually only him who makes death jokes so it’s come as a surprise to find Tim making one, a well-timed one too. Jason shakes his head, he’ll deal with those emotions at another time.

“Anyway, if we’re talking about who swears too much then why aren’t you giving Tim a lecture? He swears like a bloody sailor. If anyone needs reprimanding on his language it’s him!”

Tim abruptly stops fiddling with his phone and looks up, he rolls his eyes and glowers at him. “Jesus Christ that’s so immature Jason. How old are you, 10? I’m no way near as bad as you.”

His response gets a gleeful chuckle out of Jason. He knows exactly how the next few minutes are about to play out and he can’t wait. While the focus of the conversation had been on him, he’s glad for the opportunity to move it onto someone else and Tim happens to be perfect for the new spotlight.

Without any hesitation Jason digs into his pocket and grabs his phone. Once he has the device in hand he starts searching for the video he has saved for this very purpose. Call him petty, but he knew it would be good blackmail material one day.

“Oh really?” He drawls out, finally finding the video he had been looking for, “then what do I have here…” Jason clicks play and puts it on speaker so everyone in the room would be able to hear the audio.

After a second the sound of Tim’s voice could be heard. The teenager was clearly angry about something and certainly wasn’t holding back from letting his anger be known through his choice of words.

“You bloody bastard, why won’t you work you piece of shit. By god this is pissing me off now, I’ve been at this all fucking day and you’re still not fucking working. I am going to kill…”

The recording lasts for about a minute and is filled with Tim swearing his head off, cursing at everything and everyone and making empty threats. Once it’s finished Jason turns his phone off, puts it back in his pocket and leans back in his chair feeling smug about the situation.

“I rest my case.”

His words are met with a stunned silence in the room. Tim is blushing hard with his head buried in his hands. Next to him Bruce looks concerned, probably for Tim’s mental health and wellbeing. Dick’s staring at Tim with shock spread across his features.

After a few beats Tim lifts his head from his hands but keeps his eyes down staring at the table so he could avoid everyone’s eyes. “Okay in my defence the technology was really piss–annoying me. It wouldn’t work and I couldn’t work out why so I got frustrated and that happened.”

His response makes Jason snort and causes Dick to shake his head in disbelief. He knew Tim could be feisty but until that moment he never realised how bad his temper could get. Jason’s honestly impressed. However that doesn’t mean he’s letting Tim get away with it, especially when he’s getting blamed for something Tim does just as much of as him.

If he's going down then he’s dragging Tim down with him. It’s just unfortunate that he doesn’t have anything on Dick.

Jason’s broken out of his thoughts on ways he could get blackmail material on Dick when Tim speaks up again. He’s finally looking up at everyone though his still flushed face shows his prior embarrassment.

��Let’s be honest, is swearing really all that bad? As long as we’re not swearing at people then I think it’s fine. We’re not harming anyone. Who cares if we swear a little too much. And anyway, doesn’t everyone swear at some point?”

“Clark doesn’t.” Dick pipes up next to him.

Jason snorts. “That’s because big blue is a boy scout, of course he isn’t going to swear. He doesn’t count. Plus we’re from Gotham after all, it’s not like this is the most impeccable place in the world.”

Dick becomes thoughtful, humming his response. “Yeah that’s true I guess.”

“Boys.”

The three brother’s all turn and look at Bruce who had called for their attention. Jason had forgotten the man was even there, he had surprisingly been quiet until now. Maybe it’s because Clark was brought into the conversation, it must have peaked his interest. Jason files that information away for later.

“It doesn’t matter how much any of you swear, you shouldn’t do it at all. Damian is still young, he doesn’t need to grow up listening to that sort of language despite his initial upbringing.” Bruce firmly says, looking at each of them in turn. “You all know better and have good manners, going forward I expect you to use them.”

As Bruce rattles on about proper manners and the importance of them, Jason finds himself resisting the urge to smile. With every second that passes, it threatens to break out on his face. What makes matters worse is that he knows he shouldn’t smile, this isn’t a smiling matter considering how serious Bruce is being but the man is making it difficult to concentrate and to take the topic seriously.

Jason glances to the right to find Dick staring at Bruce with a hand covering the lower part of his face and Jason can tell that his brother is in the exact same boat as he is.

Apparently all it takes for him to break is Dick to glance at him and for them to make eye contact.

After that Jason couldn’t help himself but to burst out laughing, next to him Dick also breaks out into a fit of giggles. They laugh for a good while until they’re able to start calming down, by that point Jason’s cheeks are hurting and he even had tears forming in his eyes. As he takes a deep breath to compose himself he makes the mistake of looking over at Dick again, Dick looks back at him too and just like that they fall into another uncontrollable laughing fit.

While laughing Jason gets a glimpse of a confused looking Tim and a disappointed Bruce, but it’s Bruce’s scowling expression that triggers off another wave of giggles.

It takes even longer for the two of them to calm down. As he sits there Jason repeatedly takes deep breaths in order to collect himself. Once he’s calmed down a little, now able to breathe somewhat normally, he could feel how his sides are aching, how his cheeks hurt from the wide smiling and the tears coming from his eyes. He can’t remember the last time he laughed so hard that it hurt, and over something so trivial nonetheless.

When it feels like he’s finally composed himself he risks a glance at Dick to find his brother also in the state of calming down though there’s still a wide grin on face. He then looks at Bruce who is still staring at the two of them with his disappointed look. That’s almost enough to set himself off again. Almost.

“If you’re both quite done, we have important business to discuss, may I remind you that being the reason we’re meeting to begin with.”

“Hey, you’re the one who started on the whole language topic that derailed us in the beginning.” Jason defends himself and his brother’s. All Bruce does is huff at that, knowing Jason is right and can’t defend himself against it otherwise. Jason smirks victoriously.

Opposite him, Tim sighs loudly and makes a show to sitting up straight and sorting out some of the paperwork between them all on table. “Enough already, can we just go over the details and the police reports again and get to the end of this. I have better things to do than hear everyone bicker about language and manners.”

Dick gives the youngest a side look. “What you got planned? Is that who you were messaging just now? Is it your boyfriend?”

“What? No. Just friends. I ain’t telling you.” Tim snaps glaring at Dick.

Jason whistles. “Timmy’s getting some tonight then eh? Make sure to stay safe and use protection.”

“Jason!”

“Well he’s not wrong Tim, but where are you going? We need to know so if something happens we know where to look first.” Dick’s looking more concerned by the minute and Jason could see the flip switch from carefree older brother to over-bearing mother hen.

Tim blinks at them before turning his gaze to Bruce. In a whining voice he pleads the man, “Bruce, get them to stop!”

To begin with all Bruce does is run a hand over his face like he’s regretting every life choice he’s made and how he would rather be anywhere else but here. After a moment he sends exasperated looks at his eldest sons.

“Not much more to go, then we should be all caught up and ready to proceed with the case further tomorrow. Is it too much to ask for your full attention for the remaining hour?”

Jason sighs and sits up straighter, knowing play time is over and it’s time to be serious. One more hour won’t hurt, then afterwards there’s nothing stopping him from having a little fun is there. He nods at Bruce and picks up the piece of paper closet to him to examine the page. Dick does the same and finally Bruce proceeds with their meeting.

[kuroo-shitsurou]

Shooting Stars (Childe x Fem!Reader)

note: honestly, no one asked for this. this is obviously self-indulgent, but god FUCK do i love that ginger fatui man so much.

word count: 2.6k

"Careful now."

Childe's voice was calming, much like the gust of wind that blew past your hair. You saw his hand in front of you and you gladly grasped it, heart racing at the idea of falling to your death. The wind was calm and the air was refreshing, but there was nothing light about the pit in your stomach screaming at you to just carefully glide back down to the foot of the mountain you two were climbing.

"You aren't going to die, dear." He laughed, amused at the sight of your face.

"And what if I do? Childe, this isn't funny!" Your knees were planted firmly on one of the floating rocks just above Qingyun Peak. You grimaced at how the moss scraped against your bare knees, but you felt paralyzed with fear at the thought of falling because you knew better than to trust your clumsy nature.

"I'm not letting you fall. Trust me!" The genuine concern and reassurance in his voice was masked with his charming playfulness, and you couldn't help but sigh and stand up to follow him up to the floating island up ahead.

Childe requested to occupy your entire day earlier that morning, saying something about him showing you a beautiful sight that's sure to take your breath away. You agreed, entertaining his idea of a beautiful sight. After sparring with him in the golden house, eating a sumptuous lunch at Wanmin Restaurant, then sparring with him again, you two headed over to Qingyun Peak. The sun was about to set, and your eyes were mesmerized by how the purple hues above your head covered the entirety of Liyue.

The golden hour was nearly over, and here you were, scared out of your mind, with Childe leading you up a path of floating rock chunks that you were sure would collapse if two of you stepped on one at the same time. However, much to your surprise, they didn't.

"I've got you, okay?" Your companion's voice rang in your ears, and you didn't notice that he stepped down from his current platform to take his rightful place beside you. His right hand was still holding yours, and he used his free hand to rub gentle circles on your lower back to comfort you. You breathed in his scent- a mix of dried sweat and blood with a hint of his perfume clinging to the fabric of his collar. It was a familiar scent, something that soothed you despite being thousands of feet in the air with no stable architecture to calm your nerves. You just had to trust that the Adepti architectures knew what they were doing when they built this pavilion.

"Okay," You whispered to him.

Surprisingly, the climb was easier than you initially expected. It did help that Childe was almost carrying you the rest of the way, but leaning into him was inevitable and unavoidable. It wasn't because you wanted to be buried deeper into his chest while he held you close to the point that the exposed skin on your lower back was starting to burn because his clothed fingers were just lingering there. No, definitely not that. You were simply prioritizing your safety.

"See? It wasn't that hard, right?"

"You could have told me that we'd be heading to the pavilion. I could have mentally prepared myself for the climb."

"Mentally prepare? I'm quite sure that clinging onto me the whole time put you at ease, hm?" You wanted to wipe the smug grin off his pretty face.

"Shut up before I make you, fatui."

He let out a hearty laugh, throwing his head back and clutching his sides.

"You're honestly too adorable for your own good." He stepped closer and moved the hair out of your face as you felt another strong breeze blow by.

"I said shut it!" You felt a rush of heat spread across your cheeks as his eyes scanned your flustered figure.

"Here, take a seat." He motioned to the stone seat facing the sunset. "I did tell you that I'd show you a beautiful sight tonight."

"I trust your taste, so it better be worth it."

"When have I ever lied to you?"

You shot him a look. As you were about to open your mouth to speak, he quickly interjected with a defeated sigh.

"Don't even answer that." You could only chuckle as he sat down beside you, inching closer and closer until your shoulders were brushing against each other. This wasn't really the first time that you and him have been this close with each other.

You and Childe have a... complex relationship, simply put. It's not like you were dating, but the way he treated you- with respect, with care, with love; You wanted to melt in his arms as easily as you could fight him with your sword. You weren't really sure if Childe had romantic feelings for you because he never really talked about it, but you could only go off on his actions, and they directed to the one conclusion that he did have feelings for you.

However, as your former partner in research, Albedo, once said, "Do not assume unless stated otherwise. Logic and officiality back facts as much as they debunk assumptions." In reality, it was so easy to understand. Theoretically, it was easier. However, now that you were there in that position where all signs pointed to Childe having romantic feelings for you, you didn't know what to believe in.

Did you want to trust your gut instinct, or did you want to wait until Childe made it official and clear? It was a mindboggling situation for you because you also found yourself enamored by him.

Why... Why were you even enamored in the first place?

Maybe it was because you adored how he talked about his family. You could just listen to him for hours on end as he fondly tells you the tales of his adventures with Tonia, Anthon, and Teucer. It was the way that his deep cerulean eyes lit up whenever you asked about short anecdotes about his family that he could comfortably share with you. He adored his family so much that it made you feel... jealous. Aether was your only family, and you were still on the pursuit to finding him, so you were envious of how Childe could still visit his family back in Snezhnaya if he wanted to. You? You weren't even sure if your brother was still in Teyvat.

Maybe it was how he always tended to your wounds after each time you sparred. Although Childe claims that he's nothing more than a bloodthirsty hound who wishes for nothing but power and glory, he really can't stand seeing you with an open wound or a bleeding nose. While Childe is primarily the reason behind your injuries, he'd also be the first to bring you gauzes, band-aids, and medicine from Bubu Pharmacy. You'd always be touched since he tends to you first before he paid any mind to the bruises and cuts that adorned his skin.

"Your health is my priority, comrade. After all. who else could match my skills in combat if not you? That's why you better take care of yourself, or better yet, allow me to take care of you instead." His words echoed in your head, and you blushed, realizing the possible implications of his statement.

Maybe it was his surprisingly sharp memory. Though Childe could never compare to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor's Consultant, Zhongli, he would often shock you at how he remembered things so well- especially when it came to you. One time, for your birthday, he bought you a necklace with your birthstone as the main gem adorning the fabric. You only ever mentioned your birthday once, and it was at an awkward moment during Hu Tao's birthday celebration, that's why you didn't think Childe would remember it at all.

"I pay attention to you more than you think, dear. I also happen to store things in my memory bank if they're that important to me." You remembered how he laughed as he insisted on putting the necklace on for you. Your hand instinctively latched on to the beautiful gem resting on your chest.

Maybe it was the way he called for your name. Whether he said your name in a battle cry, as a greeting, or in the middle of him teasing you, you were absolutely intoxicated with the way that your name rolled off his tongue. The way the syllables just always seemed so right when it was Childe who spoke them. Often, he would call you comrade, dear, or another endearing nickname he managed to create on the fly. However, when he spoke your name, it was always magical for you.

"Happy birthday, dear _____. I hope you enjoy this present!"

"It seems as though you've defeated me today. No matter, _____. I'm sure I'll triumph over you tomorrow."

"You look lovely as always, _____. Want to spar with me?"

"_____."

"_____."

"_____."

You were snapped out of your little daze. Your name being called over and over again wasn't just a hallucination caused by your infatuation with the eleventh harbinger. He was actually calling for you.

"Hey, _____? Are you feeling okay?" You blinked a few times before you realized that his blue eyes were practically puncturing your own. They were glazed over with concern, a sign that he had been calling you for a while now.

"O-Oh, I'm sorry!" You jolted, straightening your posture. "I was just fascinated by the sky, is all. I didn't mean to startle you."

"The sky, you say? Were you really thinking of the sky? Perhaps you were thinking about me instead?" His tone was teasing, a little more relaxed now that he knew you weren't feeling ill.

"The sunset was lovely. Although I see it everyday in Liyue Harbor, viewing it from up here in the pavilion is truly sensational. Thank you, Childe." You spoke, ignoring his attempt at riling you up. Of course, you were also ignoring the fact that he hit the nail right on the head with his guess.

"You didn't deny it, girlie." His voice was like a melody in your ears, a sweet harmony that made you feel elated. Anyway, why would you deny it? You were a woman of principle, which means you detested lying. It doesn't count as lying if you neither confirmed nor denied his guess, right? Right, keep telling yourself that.

"Don't flatter yourself." Your curt reply was met by another laugh.

"It should be anytime now," His words met the wind and your unknowing ears.

"What is?"

"Let's just wait for a few moments. I took you up here to see something more than just the sunset, after all." He gave you a wink, to which you just huffed and turned your crimson face.

A few moments passed, and Childe was already bouncing his leg up and down; Something you knew he only did when he was anxious or frustrated about something.

"Is something the matter?" You asked, watching his face grimace.

"Ah, perhaps my predictions were wrong." He stood up to stretch. "We were supposed to see something more than just the sunset, but perhaps Celestia just didn't want our little date to go as smoothly as I initially planned."

Hang on.

Date?

This was a date?

Your heart was racing and your mind began to fill itself with unanswered questions, but Childe knew better than to keep you waiting more than you already were.

"Hey, darling?" Your stomach dropped at the use of this nickname. "Do me a favor. Focus on the sky and don't look away until I say so."

You gave him a nod, unable to form the words that would suffice as a comprehensible sentence. He had you tongue-tied with just a simple nickname.

He walked away from where you were seated, just a few paces to your right and a couple of steps back. He was far enough to the point where you couldn't see him in your peripheral, but close enough for you to hear the jiggling of the adornments and chains on his clothes. You knew that sound even if it came from a mile away. You had it memorized by heart because of how many times you heard it before your sparring sessions began.

He took out his bow and was aiming to shoot an arrow.

Admittedly, there was a little voice at the back of your mind warning you about the potential danger just a couple of feet away from you. However, you decided to fight against it, knowing that the "potential danger" was just Childe. He'd never hurt you, right?

Despite the trust that you put in the ginger, you still closed your eyes as you heard him release the string of his bow. The quiet whizz of the arrow flew by your head, and when you realized that he wasn't shooting at you, you carefully opened your eyes to see a bright blue arrow shooting across the sky.

Your mouth went agape at the consecutive hydro-infused arrows flying across the velvet sky bedazzled with stars. The moon's glow illuminated the scenery, which made the setting all the more romantic and intimate. The vibrant hues of green and blue mixed with each other in the sky, creating an aurora borealis.

You were marveling at the number of arrows crossing the sky.

They were like shooting stars, except... they reminded you of Childe.

Though you knew they were only faux shooting stars, you closed your eyes.

"Archons, if you could be so kind, please allow me to be with him." You whispered to yourself.

You then opened your eyes to see the last arrow slowly fading away from your vision, and the hydro vision holder you loved so much sheepishly standing in front of you.

"I thought that the shooting stars would be visible tonight, that's why I asked you to come with me up here. Turns out my predictions were wrong. Maybe Scaramouche was right about the stars being a lie." He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.

You giggled and looked at him, signaling to continue what he had to say.

"Although they were fake, I hope you liked them. I brought you here so that we could wish on the shooting stars together." His face was growing red, and you wanted to run up and hug him, if only your pride would stop getting the best of you.

"I loved them, Childe. Thank you for asking me out here today." You stood up and gave his hair a light ruffle, laughing at how he mocked you for doing so.

"So, what did you wish for?" He asked, taking a few steps closer to you.

"W-Well, uh," You began to stumble on your words, which caused you to involuntarily take a step back. With each step you took, Childe did too.

"Hmm?"

He managed to back you up against the pillar in the middle of the pavilion, and was enjoying the face you made as he trapped you between his arms.

"F-For good health! Yes, good health!" Yes, lying was against your principles, but you couldn't just say straight to his face that you wished for a relationship with him now, could you?

"Good for you then. You wanna know what I wished for?" His face came extremely close to yours, and you could feel his breath on your cheek.

"Wh-What is it?"

"You."

Your eyes once again met his deep blue orbs and they softened when he was staring straight into your soul.

"Can I kiss you?"

You gave a light nod, and he finally closed the gap between your lips.

Albedo was wrong.

You can definitely believe an assumption if the signs were obvious enough.

Omake;

"You totally wished for us to be together right?!"

"Oh, for the love of the Tsaritsa, please shut up!"

"You totally did!"

"I am seriously going to push you off."

"You're so mean, girlie!"

In the name of Kimura Ryohei being the VA of Childe and Kise from Kuroko no Basket

[shig-a-shig-ah]

I read that anon saying Shigaraki was probably gonna die at the end, I really don't know what to think about this but what are the other options? If he gets defeated he would be imprisoned the rest of his life, which is worse than death. He killed thousands of people, they're not going to lock him a couple of years and then "rehabilitate him" like those fanfic happy endings. I wonder what's gonna happen to him...

Even if he got defeated and they tried to imprison him, where are they going to put him? Tartarus is wrecked, heroes are quitting en masse, and the man has a bajillion Quirks? Logistically, given the chaos in universe, that just doesn't seem feasible. Which is fine anyway, because I don't think that it makes sense narratively, either, for so many reasons!

First is, again, that the big takeaway from all the tension between Deku and Bakugo is this idea of 'winning to save' and 'saving to win.' That's big a big theme throughout the whole manga, and I firmly believe it's going to be important to how this end battle with Shigaraki plays out. Now, there are way better meta writers than me on this site, so you should go track some of them down if you really want to dig into this, but the basic gist of it is this:

Deku has explicitly recognized Shigaraki as someone in need of saving. All Might has, earlier in the story, had this same thought and failed to act on it. And, on top of that, all of Shigaraki's anger and desire to destroy--rooted in the fact that he wasn't saved when he needed it--is apparently an important factor in whether AFO can actually take him over completely.

With all of that, it straight up wouldn't make sense for them to just defeat Shigaraki and lock him up, or to straight up kill him. Neither of those amount to saving someone. So what's the general alternative? Honestly?

He escapes or they let him get away. I mean, those are really the only alternative barring jail or death.

That could play out a lot of different ways as far as the logistics of it, but it's not like this would be the first piece of media where the protagonist, having developed some kind of empathy, lets someone they maybe shouldn't just fuck off into the sunset. But I think the general gist of it would be the heroes recognizing, in some capacity, that Shigaraki was never really their main enemy; All for One was. And it seems very likely for that to also mean that saving Shigaraki is going to be a necessary step to defeating All for One. And at the end of all that--if Shigaraki helps them defeat AFO in some way, or if they at least come to accept that the terrible things Shigaraki is has done are fundamentally the result of the heroes failing to save him and AFO getting his hands on him--then it's not so hard for me to imagine circumstances playing out where Shigaraki walks away from all that with at least some the League.

If Shigaraki still has all those Quirks at the end, I think it'd be incredibly easy for him to disappear somewhere. Or for the heroes to decide the fighting has to stop somewhere and not actively try to imprison him. Or some combination where he gets away and there's a conscious decision not to pursue him after the AFO threat is dealt with. I mean, society is in shambles--doesn't seem like a time when accountability will be at its peak? He doesn't have to go off for some fluffy rehabilitation ending for things to work out in a way where he doesn't die or wind up in prison forever.

[mortimer-writes-sometimes]

A Warm Feeling, Chapter Three

Chapter Three: Grillby Has Bad Days, Too

Read this on Archive of Our Own and Wattpad!

Summary: What's this? A role reversal? Grillby has been busy and struggling to run his bar single-handedly, and it pushes him past his limit. Luckily, Sans is there for him. Warnings for this chapter: Passing out, neglecting one's health Word Count: 3188

Sans laid back on his mattress with a groan. Two weeks. It had been two whole weeks since the reset, and Frisk was still in the Ruins. He was starting to wonder if they were doing it on purpose, just to mess with him. Every day, Sans went out to his post and watched, waiting for that giant door at the end of the road to open. It occurred to him that he was actually doing his job for once. His sentry reports had never been more detailed, and Papyrus was pretty proud of him for it. He didn’t even give Sans a hard time about sleeping in anymore.

When Sans opened his eyes again, the clock on his phone said it was just a little bit past five. Usually Sans would go back to sleep, waiting until about seven before going to Grillby’s and spending the rest of the evening there. The dinner rush picked up around five, and Sans didn’t usually like crowds, but then again he would take social anxiety over all-my-loved-ones-are-going-to-die-again anxiety any day. Sitting alone with his thoughts was only going to make him spiral again. So, with that, he stuffed the jacket under his mattress and got up, putting on his slippers and heading out into the snow. Somehow, looking at the restaurant down the street, he barely felt the cold at all.

Grillby rushed to keep up with orders as the dinner rush reached its peak. It had been a very, very busy day. He really couldn’t complain- business was business- but it had just been unusually hard on the bartender that day. Sans would probably say I’m ‘burned out’, Grillby thought to himself, smiling ever so slightly at the thought. If there was one thing he would be able to look forward to that evening, it would be seeing his favorite customer. Seeing Sans was always the high point of Grillby’s day. The skeleton was kind and funny, and he always seemed to know exactly how to put Grillby at ease. The bartender shook himself from his thoughts at the sound of the door opening again, bracing himself for another wave of orders and demands. Surprise and relief washed over him when he saw a familiar blue jacket in the doorway, looking around for a seat. The bar itself was unfortunately full, but Sans managed to find a table in the corner that was empty, sitting down and glancing over the drink menu as if he didn’t already have it memorized.

Grillby wanted nothing more than to walk over and say hello. Maybe he would sit with Sans, ignoring the rest of his customers as he vented about the awful day he’d had. However, that was nothing more than wishful thinking. One of the customers at the bar got his attention, asking for another order of fries and a drink. Of course, Grillby was quick to deliver, running to the kitchen to start the food before coming back out to mix drinks.

Now Grillby was aware that there were establishments in the capital that didn’t care how much their patrons drank so long as they could pay for it, but Grillby was more responsible than that. When a particularly intoxicated seahorse monster at the bar demanded another highly alcoholic cocktail, Grillby offered him a virgin drink instead, arching an eyebrow as he cut him off for the evening. “I’d offer you a glass of water, but I don’t go near the stuff. I think you’ve had enough for the evening.”

The monster scoffed, irritated. “What kind of B-S is that? I know how much I can handle, I’m nowhere near wasted. Just gimme another drink and mind your own damn business.”

Grillby shook his head. “I said, you’ve had enough,” he said firmly. “If you would like to order a non-alcoholic drink instead I would be happy to prepare it for you.”

The monster stood with his hands on the bar, yelling, “Do you have any idea who I am?!”

And here they went again. Grillby got this sort of thing all the time when they were busy. “Sir, please, there’s no reason to shout…” God, he had a headache. Couldn’t his customers give him one easy night? There were two other monsters trying to get his attention to order drinks, apparently either unaware or uncaring that Grillby was in the middle of something. “I’m afraid I have other customers to attend to-”

The seahorse monster cut him off. “I am a loyal customer and I have never caused you any trouble before, and this is how you treat me?? Not cool, dude. You’re gonna lose my business if you keep up with this attitude. What happened to the customer is always right? You know I’ve never said anything before, but your service is so damn slow, and your food sucks. I can barely even drink these shitty excuses for drinks, I’m only here because I want to support local businesses, but with your attitude-”

Ding! You’re blue now!

The seahorse monster suddenly found himself being lifted off with his stool with a yelp, unceremoniously dropped to the floor. Sans took his place at the bar, a casual grin on his face. “Hey Grillbz, looks like it’s busy. This guy causing you trouble?”

Grillby could have cried in relief. “No,” he remarked casually, “He was just leaving.” He made eye contact with the monster, irritated. “And I believe we had just reached an agreement that he will not be coming back.” With that, he gave Sans a thankful look before rushing to take care of the customers that had been waiting on him.

The bartender was pretty sure he wouldn’t have made it through the evening with his sanity intact if Sans weren’t there. Every time an irate customer started to get an attitude with Grillby, Sans would interrupt, either drawing Grillby away from the situation or diffusing the situation with a joke and a smile. The rush had started dying down by six-thirty, and the bartender finally had a moment to just… breathe.

Sans looked up from his phone when a burger and a bottle of ketchup were set in front of him, the food fresh off the grill and the bottle filled to the top. Grillby adjusted his glasses, leaning against the bar with a sigh. “Sorry it took so long to get out to you,” he mumbled. “Busy night.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Sans responded with a chuckle. “There was a line out the door when I got here.”

“Really?” Grillby looked out the window, relieved to see that was no longer the case. “I hadn’t even noticed. I really need to hire some waiting staff. I’ve put out a help wanted ad a few times, but no one qualified has ever responded…” He took off his glasses and rubbed his forehead, trying to will away the headache he’d had ever since the dinner rush.

Sans tilted his head, a little worried. “Hey, well, now you can relax for the evening, right?”

Grillby groaned. “As much as I would like that, I still have customers, Sans.”

Sans looked around, then shrugged. “They’re all regulars, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if you closed an hour or two early. I mean, if I’m being honest… You… don’t look so good. It’s been kinda a rough week. You should take care of yourself before you get too burned out, heh.”

Grillby found himself chuckling despite himself. “I knew you would make that joke,” he mumbled. He looked around the bar for a moment. It was true, that he only had regulars in this late, and they were all fairly good and understanding patrons. Even if they weren’t all the most understanding monsters, his headache just… would not go away. “For the record, if I concede and close up early, I would like it to be known that I’m doing this for your benefit. You worry too much.”

“Heh, sure, Grillbz. I’ll help you round everyone up and get them out of here,” Sans offered, getting up out of his chair. He couldn’t help glancing at Grillby every now and then, an uneasiness settling in his chest as he watched the bartender periodically take off his glasses and rub his eyes.

Sans decided not to mention that for the first time, his burger had been undercooked.

Grillby sat down at one of his booths and sighed, putting his head down on the table. He’d finished cleaning up, and Sans had been kind enough to put up the barstools and chairs for him. He felt more than heard his friend sit next to him, the hand that came up to rub his back a welcome presence of comfort. Sans fidgeted with his hoodie zipper with his free hand, even more worried than before. He’d never seen Grillby like this, but… it couldn’t have been the first time, could it? Since the evening Grillby had carried Sans home, the two had been a little bit closer. It was possible that the bartender had just started feeling comfortable being more vulnerable with him, but Sans still felt like he should have noticed this sort of thing before. Why didn’t it occur to him that Grillby had his own bad days? Grillbz was always looking out for him, taking care of him, and giving him a safe space. When had Sans last returned the favor? Some friend he was…

“I know what you’re thinking, Sans,” Grillby said quietly. “Yes, I have bad days, but days as severe as this are rare. I’ve never asked for help or mentioned it before. There’s no way you could have done anything about it.”

Sans huffed, relaxing a little bit and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “How come you can read me like a book like that? You’re not even looking at me.”

“You were thinking loudly,” Grillby responded sarcastically. “Honestly, you spend nearly every evening at my bar. You’d think that I’d know you pretty well.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Sans conceded. The two fell into a comfortable silence, Sans continuing to rub Grillby’s back while the bartender took a moment to let himself wind down. He pushed down a bit between Grillby’s shoulder blades, eliciting a soft groan from the monster.

“Ow…” Grillby hadn’t realized just how sore he was until Sans did that. He had all kinds of knots in his shoulders. His back and his feet ached. He was going to feel awful when he got up the next morning.

As the dull ache spread through him, Sans pressed down again, digging in his palm a bit and starting to work out one of the worst knots. “Damn, Grillbz,” he mumbled under his breath. “When was the last time you stretched. Here, turn around.” He guided Grillby into sitting so that his back was facing Sans. The skeleton reached up, starting at the bartender’s neck as he began massaging out the tension there and loosening up the sore muscles. He was surprisingly good at it, drawing another out a soft sigh from the fire monster.

“Sans,” Grillby breathed out, “You don’t have to.”

Sans chuckled a bit. “I want to. Would it make you feel better if I charged you for it? Just take it off my tab.”

Grillby rolled his eyes, caving. “Fine… thank you.”

The worried unease slowly left Sans at that, replaced by a fond warmth. “Hey, don’t mention it. Let me take care of you for once.”

Later that evening, as Sans and Grillby parted ways, Sans found himself having some… interesting thoughts about the bartender as he watched him walk away. He would be lying if he said that he hadn’t been a bit flustered by some of the soft sighs and groans that had slipped past Grillby’s lips as Sans gave him the massage. He didn’t expect Grillby to be so vocal.

The thought made the skeleton’s throat go dry and he shook himself, turning and walking back towards home. He hadn’t missed the way Grillby was blushing when he sat back up, quietly thanking Sans and mumbling that he felt much better. Come to think of it, Sans had seen Grillby’s blush a lot more often lately. Some sort of line had been well and truly stepped over when Grillby took Sans home, spending the night with him to make sure he wasn’t alone with his nightmares. Not much had really changed between the two of them, but every so often they shared a tender, vulnerable moment that reached a little bit deeper than other interactions. It was undeniable that they’d gotten closer, but…

Closer how?

Sans reached the front door, but decided to take a short cut to his room. He didn’t really feel like facing Papyrus’s questions as to why he was home earlier than usual right then. He’d managed to stop worrying his brother so much recently. He’d actually been getting a decent amount of rest the past few days. His nightmares had been a lot milder, still waking him up but not hanging around long enough to keep him from dozing back off pretty quickly.

He refused to acknowledge that it had anything to do with the black jacket that wasn’t his he’d been sleeping in every night. Surely it had nothing to do with the weight of the fabric and the comforting, familiar smell of smoke.

Sans wasn’t sure what woke him up early. Maybe Papyrus singing in the shower? Usually he slept through that noise but… eh, whatever. The skeleton sat up and stretched, Grillby’s jacket shifting around his shoulders. He pulled it off and gently inspected it for a moment, remembering the night before. Maybe… Maybe since he was up early anyway, he could go ahead and check on him. The bar opened pretty early for breakfast, but walking past with Papyrus each morning, it never looked particularly busy. The skeleton shrugged off the jacket and stuffed it under his mattress, semi-reluctantly exchanging it for his regular blue one. He made sure to leave a note for Papyrus on his door letting him know that he left early before heading out to check in with his friend.

The first thing Sans noticed was that there weren’t any lights on inside the bar. Usually he could see the glow of the windows and the light they casted out on the snow from a distance, but the restaurant was totally dark. Sans pulled out his phone and checked the time again. Seven thirty-eight. Grillby’s should’ve definitely been open.

The second thing he noticed was the sign in the window. It was one of those plastic signs that said ‘OPEN’ on one side and ‘CLOSED’ on the other, hanging from a suction-cup hook. It was flipped to ‘OPEN’. Sans distinctly remembered Grillby flipping it to ‘CLOSED’ the night before, but the place certainly didn’t look open. Had Grillby come in, then changed his mind and taken the morning off? And just forgotten to change the sign back?

Sans was starting to get a bad feeling. After a moment, he slowly walked up to the door and turned the doorknob.

Unlocked.

Grillby never forgot to lock the door.

That was all the evidence Sans needed to conclude something was definitely wrong. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “Grillbz? Hey, you in?” Was the power out or something…? He looked around, eyes drawn to the open kitchen door. There was a flickering light coming from inside the kitchen that hadn’t been visible through the front window. A flickering light…

Dread seeped into Sans’s soul as he found himself jogging towards the kitchen. “Grillby?!” He called out worriedly. “Hey, what’s going…” Sans stopped short, eyes wide as he located his best friend.

Grillby was laying on the floor in the middle of the kitchen, a batch of burger buns scattered across the floor around a pan sitting on the ground nearby. It didn’t take long for Sans to figure out what had happened, rushing over to his friend and kneeling next to him. “Grillby! Hey, come on, wake up. Shit, Grillbz, wake up!” What did he do?! He couldn’t exactly pour water on his face! He shook the bartender slightly, on the edge of panic. He fought back tears of relief when Grillby’s eyes fluttered open.

Grillby shifted and winced, a hand coming up to his head. “Ngh… Sans…?”

“Y-yeah,” Sans managed to stammer. “Hey, don’t move around too much. What hurts?”

Grillby took longer to answer than Sans would like. “Head, back, knees,” the bartender finally mumbled, closing his eyes again. “What… What happened?”

“You fucking passed out is what happened,” Sans choked out through a tense, humorless laugh. “I thought you had Fallen Down or something. You scared the shit out of me.”

Grillby opened his eyes again, looking up at Sans. He reached out with a shaky hand to cup the skeleton’s cheek, steam sizzling into the air as he wiped away a single stray tear. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled quietly.

“No,” Sans said quickly. “Don’t you fucking dare apologize. Don’t you dare apologize for getting hurt or- or sick or whatever caused this. It isn’t your fault.” He took a deep breath, trying to calm down. Grillby was going to be alright, he knew that much. He’d make sure of it. “Can you sit up slowly for me?”

With Sans’s help, Grillby gradually got up to a sitting position, then after a few moments of sitting, slowly eased his way into standing. He swayed on his feet when he was upright, so Sans carefully helped him out to a booth in the dining room, making him lay down again as he went to lock the door and flip the sign back over. No way was Grillby working in that condition. “Grillbz, when was the last time you ate?”

“Um…” Grillby frowned, thinking about it. After a long moment of silence, Sans shook his head.

“Okay, the fact that you have to think about it that long is bad enough,” Sans said tensely. “It… It wasn’t that day when we ate lunch together, was it? Grillbz, that was five days ago. I know it’s been busy but holy shit, G!” He took another deep breath. Now wasn’t the time to be lecturing about self-care (especially since Sans was the last person to be talking to about it). “Alright, we need to get you something to eat. Papyrus should be out at his post by now, so I’m gonna bring you over to my house to rest. You’re taking a day off.”

If anything, Sans was made more concerned by the fact that Grillby didn’t protest. He helped his friend back up, debating on whether or not to take a shortcut before deciding that might be too much for the bartender to handle.

Grillby did his best to maintain his balance, groaning as his head throbbed from the motion. “I… f-feel like shit…”

Sans relaxed a bit, chuckling tensely. At least Grillby was aware enough to sound like himself again. “Yeah, I’m sure. Don’t worry, Grillbz, I’ll take care of ya.”

Thanks for reading this chapter! If you want, you can also read this on Archive of Our Own and Wattpad. If you like my writing, consider reblogging so that more people can see it, and leave a comment to tell me what your favorite part was! I'm aiming to have the next chapter out next week, so keep an eye out for it. Let me know if you want to be added to my tag list for A Warm Feeling!

[aerynwrites]

Protector - Din Djarin x Reader

Author’s Note: I loved writing this so much, ngl, however i feel like i may have lost my edge when it comes to angst. Idk it’s probably me just being overly critical of myself as usual...but anyways i hope you guys enjoy this! It’s kinda darker than my more recent stuff but I freaking love angst so, here ya go lol. Enjoy and as always I love to hear from you all! <3

Requested? Yes! based on: Could you possibly do an angsty/little fluffy Mando x reader where their ship is attacked unexpectedly and Mando does everything he can to protect the reader but they both end up being taken and she's going to get tortured but he offers to get tortured instead to save her? Possibly loss of limb if you're up to it? Reader blames herself for what happened to him but he would rather he be hurt instead of her. (requested by anon).

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: ANGST, mentions of death, fear of death, blood, mentions of torture (not descriptive really), injuries, kidnapping, and fluff.

////

You had been traveling with the Mandalorian for almost two years now. You had been with him since before the child, and you were still with him now. As expected, the Mandalorian didn’t take to you at first. He kept his distance, only talked when necessary, and was very short with you when he did speak. However, after finding the child, his walls seemed to come down little by little and eventually you both wormed your way into each other’s hearts.

Starting a relationship with the Mandalorian was a learning curve for both of you. You had to do things a little differently than usual, but you made it work, and you had never been happier. Then the day came when Din had completed his mission of finding the child’s species, and he did the right thing, no matter how much it hurt him. After leaving the child with his people, he was once again closed off, but he told you many times that having you there made the ordeal and heartbreak much easier than if he was alone. He rested his helmet against your forehead and for the first time, told you how much he loved you, and he truly meant it. He had never felt this deep and unyielding love for anyone since his parents died, not even the child. But he loved everything about you: your smile, your hair, the way you poked your tongue out when your concentrated on something. But most of all, he loves the fact that you have never once asked him what was under his helmet. Once he had explained what it meant to remove it and why he couldn’t you immediately accepted it and continued on, no matter how curious you may be. You accepted him for who he was, not what he looked like or any other physical aspects of him. And he knew that he would do anything in the galaxy to protect you and keep you safe.

Until he couldn’t.

It had all happened to fast. The two of you were docked on a planet to get fuel and supplies, a regular routine for the both of you, when a group of storm troopers and other humans stormed the mechanical bay you had landed the ship in. You had been outside speaking with the mechanic when it happened, and before Din could even get a shot off one of the troopers had you locked in his grasp, a blaster held to you head while the others all had their weapons aimed at him.

“You shoot us, we shoot the girl,” one of the men said, “We have you severely out numbered, and all we want is information. Just come with us, tell us what we need to know, and you will be on your merry way.”

Obviously neither you or Din believed a word out of his mouth, but as Din looked at the ten men surrounding him and the one trooper holding onto you, he for once, didn’t see another way out. Not a way where you survive anyway, and he couldn’t risk that. So, Din cautiously lowered his weapon and nodded at them, causing your eyes to widen.

“Din no! What are you-“ but before you could finish, another trooper standing next to you roughly rammed the but of his rifle into the side of your head, rendering you unconscious.

Din felt his blood boil and he immediately raised his blaster to retaliate, but a quick shot and a mean pinch to his upper arm stopped him in his tracks. He quickly looked down to his right arm and saw a small feathered canister lodged into his arm.

A tranquilizer. before he could take another step or rip the device from his arm the world around him went black and the last thing he saw was your limp body being hoisted into the arms of one of the imps.

* * *

Din woke with a start, the first thing he noticed was that he was in a cell, and the second being your small form curled into his side, asleep. His sudden movement at waking must have disturbed you because you peeled your eyes open and bolted upright when you saw him move.

“Oh my stars, Din!” you cried wrapping your arms around his neck in a vice grip, “I didn’t think you were gonna wake up, I was so scared.” By now you were crying again, fresh tears covering the old ones that had dried on your face.

“I’m not going anywhere, I’m fine,” he gently placed his gloved hands on the side of your face and he finally saw the damage they caused.

Your hair was caked in dry blood, most likely from the earlier blow, but you also had new injuries. A busted lip and a darkening bruise over your left cheek.

“What did they do?” Din seethed, finger ghosting over the bruise.

You shook your head, “They want to know where we took the kid Din, they came in here to take you but-“ you paused holding back more tears, as your voice cracked, “but I wouldn’t let them. I couldn’t let them take you.” you were sobbing now, as you rested your face in the space between his helmet and shoulder.

“They’re going to kill us Din, we’re going to die.” You whimpered, voice thick with tears.

Din’s heart sunk as he listened to your words. He could hear the fear, the sadness, and for the first time since he was a child, he too felt a twinge of fear wash over his very soul. As he looked down at your shaking form he felt the fear weigh down his every limb at the thought of losing you. The thought of dying without getting to live his life with you, without getting to marry you and start a family with you…it made Din hold you tighter against him as the reality of the situation sunk in. They had stripped him of his weapons and armor, save his helmet, and locked you both in a cell. Din had never felt so helpless.

“We’re not-“ Din paused, debating on if he should make a promise he can’t keep, “We’re not going to die, I promise.”

His modulated voice, the voice you had grown so familiar with and attached too, somewhat eased your fears, but you knew his words were empty. Despair had settled itself in your mind and you were not hopeful of a happy outcome. The only way out of the cell was by force, which neither of you possessed without Din’s weapons, or a key card that only the guards had. You clung tighter to the him, and buried your face deeper into him, as if trying to hide from the terrible future that awaited you both.

Neither of you spoke for the next few moments. Opting instead for the comfort of silence and each others breathing. Din was absentmindedly running his hand up and down your back in some attempt to comfort you, while you were toying with the hair peaking from under his helmet at the nape of his neck. Your small moment of peace was interrupted by the hiss of the cell door opening, and you buried your head as far as it would go into Din’s neck, terrified to look at the two people who entered the room. You felt Din’s arms tighten around you protectively and you heard the voices chuckle before two rough hands grabbed your arms ripping you from Din’s grasp.

“No, no, no – please! Din!” new tears were pouring down your face as you fought against the troopers grasp, flailing your limps in a vain attempt to escape them. Fear gripping your heart at the thought of what awaited you outside of that cell door. In between your panicked movements you saw Din jump from his seated position and quickly lunge at one of the troopers. A well aimed hit to the exposed area of his neck had the trooper stumbling backwards but he was quick to regain his feet and kick Din behind the knee, dropping him to one knee and pointing his blaster at his chest.

“Not so tough without your armor and weapons are you?” the trooper seethed before jerking his head towards the door, telling the one holding you it was time to go.

“Stop – Wait!” Din’s voice stopped the troopers in their spot as well as caused you to cease your struggle against them once more.

“Take me.” He said firmly standing to his feet once more, “She doesn’t know anything, just please-“ his voice cracked slightly as he looked from you to the two troopers, “take me.”

Your breathing was erratic from the struggle and the panic still coursing through you as you watched the two troopers look at one another momentarily before roughly shoving you back into the cell. You stumbled into Din and he steadied you with his hands on your upper arms, you looked up at him giving him a fearful gaze.

“Please don’t go Din,” you beg quietly.

Din just gives your arm a light squeeze and pressed his helmet against your forehead, “I’ll be back,”  his hands fall down to yours and you faintly feel him place a small cool object in your hand, “I love you.”

You couldn’t even respond before the troopers were yanking Din out of the room, the door closing with a final clang. The moment their footsteps faded from your earshot you collapsed to the floor in a heap. You had stayed there for several minutes just crying and trying to push the horrible images of your imagination from your mind when you remembered the object still clutched in your hand. Your tears had finally ceased, most likely because you had no more tears to shed, and you sniffled quietly as you opened your hand. You had to hold back the sob from ripping from your throat as you looked down at the familiar necklace in your hand. It was the necklace he received from the Mandalorians, their crest. You knew the finality behind his action of giving this to you, and it just made you shake harder as you curled into a ball and fell into an exhausted fitful sleep.

* * *

A commotion of yelling and various grunts and exclamations startled you awake, it seemed to be a habit now, startling awake that is. You quickly sat up, pulling you knees to your chest as you heard what sounded like a fight or struggle outside the door, before they hissed open and a strange man was shoved into your cell. He fell to his hands and knees at the force the troopers used and you just sat in the corner casting a bewildered stare from the stranger to the now closing cell door. The man in the room didn’t say anything and you took the moment to take in his appearance. He had dark hair that was obviously disheveled by whatever had happened to him. He only wore pants, everything else having been stripped from him including his shirt. Your eyes then immediately fell to the angry red and scabbed over gashes on his back and arms, and your heart sunk at the realization of what had happened to this man.

Din, that happened to Din? Who was this?

You quickly stood from your place and ran to the cell doors banging on them frantically. It had been hours, possibly even days since the troopers took Din from your cell and now they just throw this stranger in here?

“Where is he?” you call, tears threatening to fall once more, “Where is Din, what did you do to him?” you cry, fist still banging against the door.

“Hey!” one of the guards bark, “Shut up. We just put him back in there. Won’t be long before you’re next.”

Your eyes widen at the Storm troopers words, and you slowly turned to face the man behind you, still on his knees and head bent in shame. You felt like you were paralyzed to the spot, unable to will your legs to carry you over to Din, the man you loved, who you were so sure was dead. Then you felt relief flood through your veins as you rush over and fall on your knees in front of him, hands grasping desperately at his neck and shoulders.

“Din?” you gasp.

The man doesn’t speak he just nods his head, avoiding your gaze as he looks down at the floor beneath you. You then feel tears fall from your eyes once more as you realize that you caused this. His mutilation, his pain, his dignity and his very way of life being stripped away from him.

They took off his helmet.

You instantly rest your head in the crook of his neck and let your hands fall to his hips, the only place not covered in whip lashes and cuts.

“I’m so sorry Din, this is all my fault,” you say tears falling onto his tanned skin, “Why did you do that? Why?” you pulled away from him now hands finally coming to rest on the sides of his face.

And even though you know you shouldn’t be seeing him, you are instantly aware of just how handsome and beautiful Din is under the helmet.

But you shake your head, “I’m so sorry they did this to you, I wish they would have taken me.”

At this comment his eyes finally looked up from the floor and his gaze met yours for the first time. And the look of anguish and shame in his eyes melted away as he looked into your misty (E/C) eyes. Then he brought his hands up to cup your cheeks and brought you in for a gentle yet fierce kiss. The first one you two had ever shared.

He pulled away what felt like too quickly as he pulled you into an even fiercer hug, ignoring the injuries on his arms and back, “I couldn’t let them take you. Not since I knew what they could do to you,” he pulls away and grasps your face in his hands once more pressing his forehead against yours, skin to skin, “My job is to protect you, no matter the cost.”

Your lip wobbled at his heartfelt words and you had to stop more tears from falling as your eyes fell shut, “I love you so much,” you say for what felt like the millionth time, “I just wish we could’ve had a life, a true and long life, together.” You admitted.

“Hey,” his voice along with his face pulling away from yours made you open your eyes, “We can still do that,” he assured reaching into the waist band of his pants and pulling out the all familiar key card to the cell.

Your eyes widened as you looked at the card then back up to his face, his eyes filled with determination, and you felt a smile creep onto your lips.

“I told you we weren’t going to die, didn’t I?” he whispered.

He did indeed.

And you knew the minute you saw that card that he would keep his promise

////

Permanent tags: @maryan028​ @lord-wolfgen @petalduck​

[dragonrajafanfiction]

The Cassell Cynic Part 2

A continuation of @hectabdr @hectab‘s lovely characters.

When Nathan lay back on the bench, Hana’s face filled with furious determination.

Nathan protested loudly as she stomped his feet, seized his arm in a mighty heave and lifted him across the back of her shoulders. Her strong arm was wrapped around his leg and other her hand gripped his wrist. He tried to pull away but she held him tightly secured. “What are you doing?! Let me down!”

“I’m not going to let you make me fail this assignment!” She grunted roughly and stomped off toward the medieval looking administrators building.

Nathan used his free arm to pull his ear buds out. “Are you kidnapping me? Go die by yourself!”

“You think you’re going to die?”

“Of course I’m going to die if I go on assignment with you!” He struggled futilely against her iron-like grip. “Let go! You’re ruining my day!”

“When the dragons come back, they’ll do more than ruin your day. Or do you not know that because you don’t care to study?”

“I know that and that’s why I don’t bother! It’s obvious that someone else is going to do it, why should I care about it?”

“Because we …” She puffed, staggering with her struggling captive. “You're heavier than you look.... We all have a role to play. No one is going to slay the dragons alone! When the chips are down everyone needs to think about what they can do to make sure the dragons don’t win!”

“If I face a dragon, I’ll bow down and say ‘I welcome my new scaly overlords!’” He hollered loud enough for anyone in the courtyard to hear.

She stopped. Her face turned to him in horror. “You don’t mean that. Surely.”

His face was full of indignation. “And even if I don’t, so what? I just hope they don’t eat me and I live another day because I’m not slaying any god-damn dragon and chances are, neither are you! Now put me down!”

“Don’t put me in the same league as you, you coward…”

“I’m a coward? You’re a coward!” He turned to look at her over her shoulder. “You’re so scared of getting something less than an A+ that you’re kidnapping me! That’s what this is about. Don’t give me that Dragon War spiel. You’re more scared of your report card than a dragon. Am I right or am I right? Exactly. If this assignment was about dragonslaying, I wouldn’t be on it, being C ranked… No one’s going to put the world in my hands! Put me down!” 

She finally lowered him from her shoulders and he brushed himself off and smoothed down his hair. He turned to look up at her. “Thank you!”

She gave him a stern look, lips pursed. “You’re really serious… about not doing anything.”

“Yeah! I am serious! Thank you for finally acknowledging that!” He stepped around her to return to his bench.

“So you weren’t put up here to sabotage me?” She asked.

“I am not doing this to sabotage you. No. But someone might be. You do what you need to do if your grades are that important to you, but leave me out of it. I don’t need grades to stay here.” Nathan turned fully around and walked backwards towards the bench. “Contrary to your belief, your assignment is not the end of the world and, if it was really that important, they will find someone else to do it!”

He sat back on the bench, groaning in dismay as he picked up his ruined blunt where he’d dropped it.  “If I have to be on your assignment for you to pass then you might as well stay here on the bench! Because I’m not going. Period. You’ll have to deal with the smudge on your record. Though… knowing you, you’ll suplex them until they give you a make up assignment to erase the quote-unquote bad grade, so your parents don’t call you and cuss you out. If you do kidnap me, though, I’ll definitely make sure you fail, you psycho!” He rotated his shoulder. “That hurt, you know.”

Hana stayed where she was and helplessly watched him as he sat back down at the bench. “You’re really not coming. You’re not going to help me at all?”

Nathan didn’t respond. He rolled another blunt and lit it in silence. He could tell she wasn’t giving up, she was just changing strategy. She was drunk on the whole Dragonslaying mission Kool-Aid. He could feel his buzz actively dying as she approached him and sat back down. He passed it to her and she refused. But he insisted. “Take it, you need it more than I do.”

“I don’t smoke.” 

He shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He inhaled slowly. The skunky smell of the marijuana filled the air. “You shouldn’t care so much.”

“I do care but it's because this is what comes natural to me. I’m strong and talented and I can do the things they need me to do. My talents will be wasted elsewhere. No one’s putting pressure on me. This is who I am and what I do best. So why not excel at it?”

He coughed on a rough pull. He was genuinely shocked. “No? You don’t have some mommy and daddy at home who will be disappointed if you get a B?” He asked, scoffing at her. “You don’t care at all if you ‘fail your ancestors’ or something?”

“No.” She said firmly. “I don’t. I didn’t come from a prestigious family or a famous bloodline. I don’t even know who my father is. Unlike you.” She jabbed a finger into his chest. “I’m self motivated and good at what I do. A few of the professors were thinking of putting me on a track to become faculty. They said I have to learn how to be an earnest guide. They wanted me to take you on an assignment and walk you through it.”

“Really? ...damn.” Nathan shut his mouth for once, scratching his head. “I’d pegged you as one of those trust fund babies.”

She gave a bitter laugh. “Believe me, I’m not. Like I said, I don’t care for them. They’re just coasting on their parent’s allowance and pretending to be better than everyone else. Kinda like you. At least you’re a trust fund baby who has their head in reality.” She grinned but there was no humor in it.

Nathan couldn’t argue that. “So uh… what’s this assignment?”

“I just have to accompany some cargo to the airport. But it’s sensitive cargo. So we just need to guard it.”

“Ah ha!” He tilted his head back. “So solve one problem with another. Very clever. You know what I think? I think my lack of urgency pisses them off so bad that they would do anything to get me to care even a little bit. And if they can’t get me to do anything, then they can get me off campus so they don’t have to look at me. They don’t need me here. It’s all head games. So I’ll play their head game.”

“What do you mean?” She tilted her head.

He pointed to the blunt in his hand. “What I mean is, this weed is going to give me the munchies. So, I’ll go ahead and put in a big order from the canteen. What do you like?” He pulled his cellphone from his pocket.

“I guess. Italian… pasta. I like Greek Food?” She said.

“Pasta and Gyros… sounds good to me.” He typed to put in the order.

“Are you ordering food for me?” She peered at his phone.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Nathan turned to her. “Wow… you really don’t have any friends.”

“You don’t either!” She snarled.

“I did before I came here. And I will when I leave here. You on the other hand… good luck on your ‘Hero’s Journey’. Heh.” He chuckled.

“Why don’t you just leave if you hate it here so much.” She stretched her legs in front of her and looked at the sky.

Nathan continued his lengthy order. “I don’t hate it here. I can live here, eat good food, and do nothing. Duh. It’s like the best vacation ever. It just sucks that by the end I won’t get to remember any of it. It’s like an alternate dimension. I just want them to give me good memories. Like I did something awesome. That’s all.” He waved his book of false memory ideas.

“You’re going to let them erase your memory?” Hana lowered  her voice, partly shocked, partly amazed.

“Yep. Here I’m no better than a regular human. So I might as well live like one. Order will be ready in 45 minutes.” He put his phone in his pocket.

“Why not split the difference? Do just enough to participate and stick around. That’s what Fingel does.” She wondered.

“Oh ho... Not just Fingel. Isn’t that what everyone else does? I look at everyone around me and… you’re  the first person I’ve met here who actually believes all this is for saving the world. That’s cool. You want to be here for that. But that’s why the other people get on your nerves. You can tell they’re faking it, and you’re not about the BS.”

Hana fell into a thoughtful silence.

“Which is why they sent you to talk to me probably.” He lowered his blunt. “It’s not that I don’t care that dragons are big and scary, it’s just I know I can’t do anything, just like 90% of the people here… so…” He shrugged. “There’s going to be maybe… what … 10 or 12 people actually fighting dragons? The rest? They’re just in it for the social points. And I’m not interested in social points.”

“What are you interested in?” She asked.

“Enjoying life while I have it.” He sat back and blew out a long plume of smoke.

Hana sat with him and stared out into the empty courtyards. On the peak of a gabled roof, a mockingbird was singing its heart out and doing acrobatic leaps in the air as it did so. Hana pursed her lips and tapped her feet. “If you could… please do this one assignment for me. I won’t ask again. I’m backed into a corner here and I don’t really have a choice at the moment.”

Nathan sighed loudly. “You could always do nothing, Hana. Just say, ‘He’s not coming, figure something out.’ I don’t want to get in your way, but I’m not going to let them play the pity card either. We’re all adults here. Don’t ask me to play their game. And it is a game.” He looked at her with wide eyes, waving his blunt. “If this assignment is really important, they’ll find someone else. The assignment isn’t the real issue here. This has nothing to do with your grade. I guarantee it has everything to do with their ego. They’re just like my parents. They’re just like my brother. Trying to make me care about their shit and I don’t. And that pisses them off.”

“You’re… pretty defensive right now.” She laughed.

He laughed in disbelief. He was getting pretty riled up about all this. “I want them off my back! I don’t understand why they need the C-ranker to be on board with their war games.”

Hana smiled disarmingly. “I for one… appreciate your honesty. You’re not so bad. I can’t be the only one who feels that you’re not so bad either. I think I’m here because they want to keep you around.”

Nathan raised his eyebrows. “Tch… Yeah good luck to them.”

 Hana pushed off the bench. “Alright. I’ll ask them to pair me with someone else or… do something else about it. Nice talkin’ to you.”

“Hey, don’t forget. Food’s gonna be here in 40 minutes.” He shouted after her.

“Alrighty!”

[fuckit-hero-of-trains]

Sit by the fire until... Ch 1

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25870150/chapters/62859553

Summary:

They inherited a lot of things from Sky.

From him, they inherited a sword, honed in flames painted with holy might and sharpened to a deadly, resplendent point. From him, they inherited a forest green tunic with such a storied and epic past that few would believe that it had started out as nothing more than happenstance; a school uniform of all things.

From him, the inherited a destiny and an eternal enemy to go right along with it.

They knew that. Understood that. Didn't blame him for it.

Funny, then, that they didn't connect the dots.

Because there was one more trait they all seemingly inherited from Sky, whether they realized it or not.

(or: 8 times a hero fell asleep somewhere weird +1 time a hero fell asleep exactly where he was supposed to)

Legend has seen a lot of dangerous things in his lifetime. He’s been on five adventures for Hylia’s sake. There are not a lot of things that can phase him anymore.

Another dank dungeon in need of exploration? Easy. Another monster whose weak point is inexplicably a giant eye that glows? Piece of cake. A realm of unfathomable darkness? Been there, done that, didn't even get any cool items from it.

But this… now this scares him.

“Nose goes,” Legend says flatly, flashing a finger up to touch the tip of his nose despite the fact that he is one of only two people standing in front of said insurmountable task.

“I’m not going in there,” Warriors hisses, not even trying to honor Legend’s ‘Nose Goes,’ his hands resting firmly on his hips, face incredulous as he stares down their target. “What do I look like? An idiot?”

“Oh, you don’t just look like one,” Legend assures him dryly, brows raised, smile bright and full and smarmy.

Warriors shoves him.

“If you think it’s so easy, why don't you just go in then?” the Captain spits.

But before Legend can get out another snarky response, the sound of movement , of creaking wood, sends both heroes stumbling away from the structure they had been standing next to, their hands flying up to shield their faces from harm as they wince away from what will no doubt be their end.

A beat passes between them, neither moving in fear of incurring a terrible wrath…

...

But after a second with no horrifying retribution, the two breathe a sigh of relief, eyeing up their foe.

The cucco coop.

They both shudder.

“Are you sure he’s in there?” Warriors whispers after another cautious moment of silence. “We could check the barn again.”

And as much as it would make Legend’s day to just check the barn again, he shakes his head.

“This is the only place we haven’t looked,” he reminds the scarf wearing hero with a scowl, “Besides, for some goddess forsaken reason, he happens to like these little menaces. If there was anywhere on this farm Sky would be, it's here.”

Warrior’s face screws up.

“Ugh, why can’t we just have dinner without him?”

“Because Time’s a stubborn old bastard with a parental streak the size of the moon,” Legend bites out. And then, with a bit less bitterness. “And because Malon wants to have family dinner or whatever.”

“She made cornbread,” Warriors laments with a small shake of his head, “I at least wanted to try a little before I kicked it.”

Legend smacks him on the arm.

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

“I’m not being dramatic and you know it!” Warriors replies, voice jumping an octave. “Those things are vicious killers! Goddess only knows what we would have done in my era without Linkle taming them. Feathery bastards can change the tide of war in an instant!”

Legend rolls his eyes.  

“Okay, yeah,” the Veteran admits, “those things could pick a moblin clean faster than you could blink, but I’m not saying we have to fight them to the death. We just have to take a peek in the coop and see if Sky’s in there. If he is, great, we tell him dinner’s ready and get the hell out of dodge. If he isn’t, sweet, we get the hell out of dodge even faster and tell Time we couldn't find him.”

“Oh, well then, if it's so simple” Warriors replies, bowing deeply and gesturing to the coop with a flourishing arm, “After you.”

“No, no, no. You lost ‘Nose Goes’,” Legend reminds. “You have to do it.”

“You can’t call ‘Nose Goes’ with just two people!”

“I think you’ll find that I did. And you lost.”  Legend grins and mirrors Warrior’s bow and flourish. “So, after you.”

The Captain narrows his eyes.

“How about this?" the Pretty Boy bargains. "I open the door, and for fifty rupees, you look inside?”

Legend purses his lips, eyes flicking from Warriors to the coop. On the one hand, War did lose Nose Goes. There really should be no bargaining going on here. Legend has the moral high ground in this particular situation. Not to mention that it would absolutely make his day to see the pompous  captain get knocked down several pegs by a couple of birds.

And Legend really isn't looking to get his eyes pecked out today.

But on the other hand, depriving the Captain of even more of his hard earned cash is a pretty good incentive. Plus, he’ll need to squirrel some more rupees away back home if this whole ‘Ravio staying with him’ thing is gonna be a bit more permanent.

He’s got no idea how in the name of the Wind Fish Ravio even made it to his Hyrule let alone if the idiot can even get himself back to Lorule.

And Legend can’t have that rabbit hooded bastard selling his equipment just to put food on the table for however long he’s staying.

“Seventy-five and it's a deal,” Legend replies, holding a hand out for the Captain to shake on it.

A roll of eyes from Warriors but he takes Legend’s hand all the same, giving it a firm shake.

Sucker.

Legend only said he would look inside. Not get Sky if he saw him in there.

They take up their positions in front of the coop; War’s hand on the door handle, ready to pull it open while Legend situates himself around the corner, primed to take a quick peek inside and then retreat just as quickly.

“On three,” Warriors breathes.

“One.”

Warrior’s grip on the doorknob tightens, the leather of his gloves creaking slightly with the force of his grasp.

“Two.”

Legend feels his muscle tense, the cords of his neck straining as he readies himself for his dive, his newest in a line of near death experiences.

A breath in.

A breath out.

“Three!”

With a flick of the wrist and jolt of the arm, Warriors whips the door to the cucco coop wide open. In the same instant, Legend darts his top half around the corner of the coop, peeking into the dim depths of the pen and–!

And…

Huh.

Legend is not met with a flurry of feathers spelling his demise. Isn’t met with the death rattle of squakes nor clawed with an inch of his life in seconds nor immediately assaulted with an avalanche of pecks that could drill straight to the bone.

No.

Legend is met with none of the things he expects and is instead faced with one of the most miraculous sights he has ever beheld.

Because inside the coop, in the dim warmth of their little home, all of the hens sit politely on their nests, heads perked and turned toward the intruding light, but otherwise, unbothered by the hero standing in their doorway. Not a ruffled feather in sight nor any eyes gleaming with deadly, avian hatred.

Nope.

They are perfectly relaxed. Perfectly within their element and domain, not a care in the world. In fact, after a moment of staring at Legend with what the Veteran could only describe as royal indifference, the cuccos settle back down, heads tucking into downy white feathers or disappearing under wings.

“Well?” Warriors whispers from behind the door where he is taking shelter, “Is he in there?”

“Not sure,” Legend replies.

He takes a tentative step forward, eyes locked on the birds as he carefully places one boot within the threshold of the coop. No reaction. He leans weight onto that foot, flinching as the wood groans beneath his mass.

…

Still no reaction.

Welp, Legend thinks with no small amount of dryness. No excuse not to make sure Sky isn't in here.

“Give me a sec,” he breathes back to War, taking another, more confident step into the coop. “I'm going to check.”

“No, wait, Legend, they’re lulling you into a false sense of security! You can’t just–!”

The Veteran ignores Warrior’s hissed warnings, confidently going from the frying pan and into the fire.

Or from the barnyard to the cucco coop. Whatever.

Besides the sight of the oddly tame cuccos, Legend is immediately hit with a slight wave of heat as he enters the coop proper, the temperature inside that of a warm blanket against his face and body. He is also hit with the smell of hay, grassy and dry and warm.

A quick scan of the coop gives Legend no leads on Sky. No light green tunic, no dirty blond hair, no Master Sword, no white sailcloth. It does, however, tell him that Time may be missing a few hens, as four nests seem to be vacant.

He takes another quick sweep and is just about to label Sky a lost cause when something in the corner of the coop shifts and makes a soft huff, sending Legend’s heart into his throat and his arms up around his face, fearing that this, this will be the end of him. Five adventures down, Ganon killed three times by his hands, multiple kingdoms and  deities  saved due to his actions, and he's going to die to some fucking poultry.

But after a beat, a moment, a full minute of not moving and with Legend not being absolutely smote where he stands, the pink haired hero slowly but surely peaks out from behind his arms to see the cuccos still just sitting in their nests, now gazing at him with what he thinks is exasperation.

Which really shouldn't be possible, because, you know, they’re fucking birds. Their eyes really shouldn't be that expressive. And yet, as Legend uncurls from his wince completely, as his heart rate calms from the stutter step it had been running through, he can’t help feel the condescension in their beady little golden eyes.

Little pricks, he thinks a little viciously as he subtly flips one of them the bird– ironic, he knows– turning to investigate the noise that had nearly given him a heart attack a few seconds earlier. I hope Malon cooked one of you for dinner.

Sure that he's not about to be absolutely eviscerated, Legend follows the noise, a soft, rhythmic huffing, to one of the hay filled corners of the coop that had been obscured by the line of nests and...

And, really, he should have known.

Trust Hylia’s Chosen Hero to fall asleep in literally the most dangerous place known to Hylians.

Because there, in a soft pile of hay in the corner of Time’s cucco coop, is Sky, eyes closed and mouth slightly ajar as he takes in breaths, slow and deep and even and warm. His sailcloth is layed out beneath him, no doubt protecting him from the prickly hay as he naps peacefully, none the wiser that four cuccos have found him a suitable enough pseudo nest to be napping right along with him: one tucked under each arm, another resting on his slowly rising and falling chest, and the last finding a home in his soft, dirty blond hair.

Legend takes it all in. Takes in the way the birds churr in time with Sky’s soft snores, the way bits of hay have found their way into the Skyloftian's hair, the way the small sliver of light entering the coop from the open doorway illuminates the floating dust particles in shades of sunset gold, the way they swirl in little eddies with each of the Chosen Hero’s breaths.

It truly is a tableau of peace.

Too bad it’s dinner time.

“Alright, Lover Boy,” Legend huffs, reaching out to shake the Chosen Hero awake. “Up and at ‘em. Malon made dinner and–”

Before Legend’s hand can even make contact with Sky’s shoulder, a rising grumble shatters the relative peace of the coop.

All around him, the heads of all the cuccos snap up in tandem, pinning Legend in place with at least 20 pairs of molten gold eyes as the grumble– which he now realizes is the sound of the four hens sitting with Sky hissing at him– rises in volume and anger.

With slow and controlled movements, Legend pulls his hand back from where it had been moving toward the somehow still sleeping Sky and raises both palms up in surrender.

The eyes follow the motions of his hands with deadly precision but the cuccos make no move to strike.

So Legend does the most logical thing anyone would do in his situation:

He gives up without a fight, keeping his hands raised where the birds can see them while slowly backpedaling out of the coop.

Then, when he finally crosses the threshold back out of the coop, Legend takes the edge of the door into both his hands, and carefully, gently, closes the coop back up.

“So?” Warriors asks, hands on hips, staring at Legend's odd display “Was he in there?”

“Yep,” Legend replies flatly, popping the ‘p’ as tension bleeds out of his muscles.

A brief pause.

“And?” Warriors intones expectantly.

Legend turns to the other hero, clasps a firm hand on the Captain’s shoulder, and smiles.

“And good luck getting him out of there. You’re sure as hell gonna need it.”

And with that, the Veteran turns and strides back toward the farm house, ignoring the indignant sputterings of the scarf wearing hero all the way there.

Wind Fish, he hopes Time has something stronger than Lon Lon Milk.

‘Cuz after the number those demon birds just did on him? He's gonna need it.

And based on the screaming coming from behind him, he assumes Warriors is gonna need it too.

[smkkbert]

Last Wish (10/15)

Oliver feels like his life is crumbling when his best friend reveals that she is sick. Desperate to help her through the toughest time of her life, Oliver puts all his energy in fulfilling the wishes on Felicity’s bucket list. His hardest challenge - Felicity’s last wish on the list is getting married.

Previous Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 or read everything on Ao3

* * * 

The Northern Lights were more beautiful than Felicity could have possibly imagined because none of the photos or videos she had seen of them came close to what it was really like to experience them. They were a wonder of the world put into the sky. Just sitting there and watching them made tears well in Felicity’s. She felt so honored to be watching this – honored and just amazing from the inside out.

Right now and right here, nothing mattered. It didn’t matter that she had a tumor that was going to kill her, something her doctor had confirmed to her once more when a weak moment had caused Felicity to call her and ask if there was even the slightest chance that a therapy would save her now. It didn’t matter that she was unable to move her arm and that her legs made her feel like she was hundred years old. It didn’t matter that she might not have enough time for her other wishes to come true and that she would die with that regret on her heart. It didn’t even matter that her left leg was twitching the way her left hand had before it had given out, telling her that it was giving out sooner or later too.

None of that mattered because none of that was real here.

Even the sadness that she had still felt an hour or two ago when she and Oliver had hit the road to get here was inexistent right now. You could think that it was just absent, but it really wasn’t just that. It wasn’t existing. There wasn’t a past or a future with it. There wasn’t even a remotely distant trace left of it right now. That sadness simply didn’t exist here – it was just an irrelevant thought that had no impact on her life at all.

Felicity had always believed that sleeping was giving her a nice feeling. You didn’t feel anything at all, not even the pain if you were lucky enough. It felt like you didn’t exist which was great when your life was made of a lot of pain. This was better though because Felicity could feel every inch of her body without feeling any pain. This time, it wasn’t her that was inexistent, it was everything that was around her, well, almost everything.

She felt light-hearted and healthy, really on the peak of life. It was like she had been newborn. She was sure if she just jumped up and started dancing, her legs would carry her easily and make her dance all through the night until the sun was shining down on her, and she’d fall into the grass from exhaustion, breathless and happy.

Her body, heart and soul were good as long as she was here. Maybe the Northern Lights had some healing powers. It definitely felt like this right now.

Was this what afterlife would be like?

Felicity had spent a lot of time thinking about afterlife. She hadn’t always been sure that it existed. She had been raised Jewish, and she considered herself to be Jewish. In situations like these, she guessed it was only natural to have some doubts though. At least Felicity couldn’t absolve herself of it. Still, at the end she had decided to believe in afterlife because it offered her a little bit of comfort.

The sky was so close. Felicity felt like she only had to reach out her hand, and she would touch the colorful aurora. It would feel warm and soft, and it would leave glitter of the same color on her fingers. It would be magical, just as magical as this moment.

So, if there was an afterlife, this looked like a perfect version of it, somewhere to spend all eternity because it was giving her so many great things. She could live with the idea of having this as her afterlife. Well, or she could die with it.

She felt one of the tears that had been welling in her eyes running down her cheek now and hurried to wipe it away.

Oliver, who was sitting behind her with his legs placed next to hers and his arms wrapped around her middle, angled his head. His chin was resting on her shoulder now, his lips brushing against the edge of her jaw. His arms tightened around her, pulling the blanket even tighter around her shoulder and her body even closer to him. It made her feel all the warmer this wrapped up into his embrace.

“Are you okay?”

He whispered the words before he kissed away that little tear that had fallen. His lips lingered there, his breath ghosting over her skin, before he pulled away. Although Felicity didn’t look at him, she knew that he was staring at her. She could feel his gaze on her face, trying to get beneath her skin and find out what was going on inside of her.

Felicity wanted to tell him that she was okay. The moment she tried to answer, she felt a sob falling from her lips though. More tears were running down her cheeks. Felicity held onto Oliver’s bicep tightly, and Oliver laced his fingers through hers immediately. His arms tightened around her once more, and he rocked her from side to side like you did to a crying child that you wanted to fall asleep.

“Pssst.” He hushed her gently and leaned his forehead against her head, his nose pressing to her cheek to breathe her in. “I’m here. I’m here with you.”

He was, Felicity thought to herself, and it was that little cherry on top that made it all the better. Imagining that she didn’t have to relinquish him in afterlife was making this version of it all the more attractive. She would still leave him behind, but he would come with her. Without dying of course.

“Do you want to go back?”

Felicity shook her head firmly. Her hand tightened around Oliver’s fingers, and it gave her what she needed to take in a deep breath. She closed her eyes, letting the oxygen flow through her and making her feel a little bit calmer.

“No,” she whispered, still a little breathless, “no, it’s perfect here.”

She could feel Oliver’s confusion while he was looking at her and even more when he was brushing his fingertips over the wet spots on her cheeks that the tears had left.

“I’m happy.”

It was a short sentence, whispered barely louder than the beat of her heart was in her ears, but it was still incredibly meaningful. Maybe the fact that she could only whisper those words proved that more than she had thought.

“I am so, so happy.”

Oliver chuckled lightly at that, certainly relieved that she was okay. Happy tears were certainly better than tears of fear or sadness or pain. They were still tears though, so Oliver tightened his hold on her even more. It could almost painful given that she wasn’t really able to move like that, but Felicity didn’t mind at all. She liked to be this tightly embraced by Oliver. It was a nice feeling, so she snuggled back against him even more.

“This is so beautiful,” Felicity whispered, “like a miracle.”

“Yeah,” Oliver whispered, nuzzling her cheek slightly, “just perfect.”

Oliver’s voice sounded different than it usually did, causing Felicity to rip her gaze away from the stunning aurora. His face looked peaceful and content. There was the glimpse of a smile on his face while he was watching the Northern Lights. They really seemed to fascinate him as much as they fascinated Felicity too.

Felicity wondered if he, just like her, could forget the chaos around them while they were here. Maybe, for the first time in weeks, he forgot that she was dying. She was sure that it hadn’t let go of him since she had told him about it and that it had only gotten worse after she cried herself to sleep in his arms on Christmas Morning. He had worried about her because he hadn’t expected her to show any kind of sadness about her tumor. She hadn’t shown any before.

What could Felicity possibly say? She hadn’t thought that she’d be sad either.

Pushing all of those thoughts away, she focused on Oliver once more. It was easy to forget about everything else when she was looking at him. With how peaceful he was, it was easy to forget about everything else again. Oliver was just as fascinating as the Northern Lights.

Felicity had trouble to suppress a sigh when she leaned her head back against Oliver’s shoulder, snuggling her cheek to it while she was continuing to look at Oliver. He had the same calming effects on her although her heart was making an excited jump between every other beat. It was something only Oliver could make her heart do, Felicity guessed.

Maybe this moment wasn’t taking away everything, Felicity thought to herself, because she certainly still felt the same way for Oliver that she had felt for years, and she still regretted that they had taken their time together for granted. They had missed so much.

Five years ago, they had been so close to giving into their feelings. If only there had been the right moment, some moment of crazy sizzling, maybe they would have taken that final step. Then again, there had been so many moments of crazy sizzling, but they had never taken that step.

Felicity remembered sitting at home and waiting for Oliver to come over like he always had. He had been late, and he hadn’t texted her which hadn’t been Oliver’s usual behavior at all. When he had called her eventually, telling her that Thea was in surgery, Felicity couldn’t have possibly known that whatever they had been starting to develop for each other would be put on hold for years or even be canceled forever.

It wasn’t fair that this had happened to them. Thea’s death alone had been tragic enough for everyone involved. That they had needed to lose their chance at being together soon wasn’t fair.

This close to the sky, Felicity wondered if maybe she had been wrong though. Maybe there was a chance for them after all. They didn’t have al the time in the world. They didn’t even have particularly much time, but she still had some time left. It wouldn’t be as easy and as carefree as the first time between lovers should be, but who knew? They could still have a good time if what they thought they were feeling for each other was only a fraction of what they were actually feeling for each other, there might be at least a little bit of happiness in their reach if they just gave it a chance.

Oliver will suffer either way. It didn’t matter if they were together or not. He loved her if he had actually meant it which Felicity believed he did. That meant that, nothing she could possibly do could prevent Oliver from grieving her death in a heartbreaking way.

All she did was taking the little time they still had left away from them.

Felicity was still looking at Oliver when he suddenly turned his head. His eyes locked with hers, and the small furrow that always grew between his eyebrows when he was worried showed there. Felicity frowned slightly, unwilling to see it there, and she lifted her hand to smooth that little crease in his skin. It wasn’t supposed to be there. This was a happy place, and happy places didn’t allow any worries there.

For a split second, Felicity wondered if she was high. Maybe the Northern Lights were working as some kind of drug to her. She felt like she had been drugged or like she was at least very, very tipsy. It was the good kind of tipsy though, not the bad kind that got your head spinning and your stomach rebelling. She couldn’t completely preclude it although she guessed that it wasn’t really likely.

When she shook her head about her own train of thoughts, a warm smile spread on Oliver’s lips. His eyes shone with that deep love she had only ever seen in his eyes.

“Everything okay?”

His voice was casual, but Felicity could hear that there was a little bit of worry or at least confusion there too. She knew she should certainly watch the Northern Lights, and she would do it again. At first, she needed to get this new way of thinking off her chest.

“Did you mean it?”

Now, Oliver seemed all the more confused. He looked at her intently, his eyes narrowing down on her for a moment before they looked away and back towards her in less than two seconds. Although no sound was to be heard, his lips formed the little question, “What?”

Felicity chuckled lightly, dropping her forehead against Oliver’s shoulder. Apparently, he couldn’t read all of her thoughts which was actually kind of nice to know. She wasn’t completely readable for him yet.

When Felicity angled her head back again, looking at Oliver’s face, his eyes were still on her face. He still looked incredibly confused, and it made him look so, so sweet.

“Did you mean it when you told me you loved me?”

Felicity could almost pinpoint the moment when he got that this wasn’t going to be a light conversation and that Felicity wasn’t just asking for no real reason. He might not actually understand where exactly this conversation was going, but he got a feeling that it might change things. She could see it in his eyes.

If it hadn’t been for that intense expression in his eyes, Felicity might have mistaken his silence that followed her question as a rejection. It could be so easily seen as a sign that he hadn’t really meant it, but the truth was already written in his eyes. Even before he said the words, she knew what he would say. Even without that expression in his eyes, she would have known. She knew Oliver too well not to know.

“With every beat of my heart,” he told her firmly, “and, yes, I know that it’s corny.”

“Good because that way I don’t have to point it out for you.”

Although Felicity had meant to ease the mood a little bit with her comment, she hadn’t even managed to smile. Her eyes were focused on Oliver’s face, her thoughts spinning all about the decision she had to made or might have made already. She didn’t know.

“I love you, Felicity,” Oliver whispered, using her silence to just say it again, “and nothing that you will say or do will ever change that.”

She believed him. She believed every single word he said, and she believed that he meant it with the same intensity that his voice and his eyes were carrying. There was no doubt about that. As beautiful it was, it had a slightly bitter taste to it. She wasn’t sure if Oliver tasted that same bitterness, and she hated that she had to make him feel it, but she knew that she really, really had to.

“You do understand that I will die very soon, right?” she asked slowly. “This is no romcom where love will heal me or something like that. I will die, Oliver.”

He hated her saying that. It was like being punched in the face over and over again. She could see that in his eyes, too, but he also knew that she had to realize that he wasn’t closing his eyes from that. So, instead of telling her to stop it, he sucked in a deep breath. His lips were still pressed together, but he nodded his head.

Felicity knew that it should be enough. Knowing it and accepting it should be enough. She shouldn’t have to hear the words from him, but she had to. She knew there was no coming back from her decision, so she needed to be a hundred percent sure that Oliver knew what he was getting himself into.

“I know that you are dying and that nothing can save you,” Oliver said with slightly trembling voice, “I know that.”

He knew that, and he accepted that as much as you could accept really accept it as long as it hadn’t happened yet. He certainly couldn’t really deal with it, but that was something completely different, something she couldn’t demand from him yet. It would be too much to ask, especially since she had found herself having trouble dealing with it lately, too.

Oliver could certainly feel Felicity’s hesitation because he angled his head down a little and brushed his nose against her cheekbone for a split second.

“As far as I see this, I will lose you either way, Felicity,” Oliver told her gently, the hurt audible in his voice, “because love won’t heal you, but it won’t kill you either.”

“Probably not.”

Felicity mumbled the words, playing with the zipper of Oliver’s jacket to have something to do. Her eyes were still locked with Oliver’s. Even if she tried, she knew she wouldn’t be able to look away.

“All I want is to enjoy the last time we have together,” he continued eventually, “because to me that makes more sense than pretending that you are already dead.”

Felicity nodded her head. What Oliver was saying made sense. It made all the sense in the world really. Looking back, it almost felt weird that she had ever thought differently. It was like the Northern Lights hadn’t only taken away her pain and her sadness. It had also taken away all the good doubts she had had about going all in with Oliver.

“Of course I understand if you don’t feel the same way for me or still don’t know how you feel. I really don’t want to push you,” Oliver continued a moment later, “I mean five years back, before Thea had died, I really thought you had feelings for me. Then Thea died, and I know I have changed a lot after that. I am sure that I was unbearable from time to time, and the sides of me that you saw certainly weren’t really sexy or even attractive or-“

“I love you.”

Her three words made Oliver stop and look at her like she had just told that the earth was flat. She doubted that he would have looked any different from that if she had told him that. He certainly hadn’t expected hearing those words today or ever.

“I love you, Oliver,” she repeated, “I just-“

She sucked in a deep breath, her fingers tightening around the collar of Oliver’s jacket. She didn’t know why she needed that feeling of having him close to her and being able to keep him this close to her was something she needed to dearly. She really couldn’t tell, but she was unable to fight the feeling, so she gave into it.

Felicity realized that all those good doubts were suddenly back. The words that told Oliver how she was feeling were out, but those doubts were back inside of her.

“I don’t think you should give your heart to me too much,” she whispered, wondering if she had said those words to him already or if she had just thought about them so much that it felt like she had said them before, “because I will die soon, and I don’t want you to do all of this to do me a favor or-“

His lips were suddenly on hers, swallowing all doubts she might have still voiced. They were just there, silencing Felicity all of a sudden. Felicity was too surprised to do anything. Her heart was telling her to deepen the kiss. Her brain was telling her to stop it. Their voices were shouting at the same time though, so she could barely understand anything they were saying.

Before Felicity could decide what she should or wanted to do, Oliver pulled back. His arms tightened around her even more, and his eyes were as piercingly blue as Felicity had never seen them before. Even in the dark of the night she could see it.

“I’m not doing this to do you a favor.” Oliver lifted a hand to the side of her face and brushed his fingertips over her cheek. “Until two minutes ago, I wasn’t sure if you loved me too.”

Felicity leaned her face into his touch. She couldn’t speak. Otherwise, she would have told him again and again that she loved him. She wanted him to believe her. Her words were meaningless if she didn’t believe him.

“Felicity, I am doing this because I have wanted this for the past five years. I have lost sight on it from time to time, but I do know with a hundred percent certainty that I really want to be with you. Of course it would be nice if we had years left, but if we only have some months of even just some weeks, I will take it. I will take whatever I get. It’s going to be worth it. I already know that.”

Of course it was going to be worth it. Every time Oliver had kissed her, her heart had been so incredibly happy that it had almost felt like it had tried to beat outside of her chest. She was crazy for Oliver, so incredibly crazy that she knew it was going to be amazing being with him. Their friendship was amazing. Their relationship was only going to be even better.

“This might be the most selfish thing that I will ever do in my life because I know you wanted to keep your distance, so you didn’t have to feel any regrets about pulling me deeper in,” Oliver added in a low whisper, “but I really want to do this if you want it too. Just don’t do it to do me a favor. If you have any doubts about my feelings, about your feelings, about what you will feel if you die, tell me.”

They were feeling the exact same way, Felicity realized. They had both loved each other for years. They had both held back on their feelings for each other after Thea had died. They both still loved each other though. Both of them were afraid though, afraid that the other was just giving in because they were feeling guilty or at least like they owed it to the other.

They were so in tune with each other, and they wanted to be with each other. In this moment, for the first time in five years, they fit together like two pieces of a puzzle because they were feeling the same, thinking the same and the circumstances surrounding them weren’t as destructive as they had been or maybe they were forgotten.

Because of that, nothing else mattered, so everything else be screwed.

Felicity straightened up as much as necessary to capture Oliver’s lips in another kiss. It was a gentle, feather-light kiss. Their lips were just brushing together oh so softly. Oliver’s lips were just pressing back down onto hers, not pulling away and not deepening the kiss. He sucked her bottom lip between both of his lips lightly though, almost like he wanted to hold onto it.

Although it was a rather simple kiss, simple compared to the passionate kisses that they had already shared in her dreams, it got her heart racing. That little drunk-on-love butterflies were fluttering in her stomach, forming a hurricane that was running through her and causing an amazing tingling to spread all through her body. Whatever her head had screamed before, it was silent now.

It didn’t last much longer than their kiss before.

Pulling back, she licked her lips. She wanted to chase his taste on her lips. She couldn’t get enough of it. She already wanted more, more and more. She actually doubted that it could ever be enough.

“This is certainly the most selfish thing I have ever done in my life, too,” Felicity whispered, again, feeling the exact same way Oliver did, “so I guess we can just be selfish together, right?”

“Together.” Oliver tightened his arms around her waist. “Together is my favorite way to do things.”

He kissed the tip of her nose, making Felicity smile. She shot a brief look back at the Northern Lights, her good spirits, before she made herself free of Oliver’s arms. He hesitated before he let go of her, unsure what she was doing. He did let go of her though, giving her room if that was what she needed.

Since he had taken the blanket away from around her body, it was freezingly cold, so Felicity hurried to turn around in his arms. When she made herself comfortable on his lap, wrapping her legs around his hips loosely, their chests were pressing together. Quickly, Oliver wrapped his arms back around her, holding her as tightly to him as he had before.

With their foreheads rested together, they looked at each other intently. Their noses were brushing together whenever the took in a breath at the same time. Even through the thick layers of clothes separating them, Felicity could feel Oliver’s heartbeat, and the fact that it was just as quick as hears made her smile.

“Together?”

Her voice was barely audible and the question could mean a lot of things, but she knew that Oliver got it. He knew what exactly she was asking for. She was asking to be selfish together. To just be together.

For a long moment, neither of them said a word. Neither of them moved. Felicity felt like this moment was lasting forever, but she got why Oliver needed a moment. Now, the ball was in his field, and everything was different when you were the one making that final decision.

Still, he nodded his head. “Together.”

With that, their lips came back together in a passionate kiss. Oliver’s tongue moved over the seam between her lips, begging for entrance. She granted it willingly, feeling a long sigh of content slipping from her lips when his tongue met hers in a slow dance. Her teeth grazed his bottom lip, causing Oliver to growl into the kiss. She swallowed that passionate sound gladly, using her right hand to grab some strands of his hair and pulling him even closer to her.

Five years of hidden feelings exploded in her chest. She really knew no other word to describe that mass of feelings that filled her from the inside out. It filled her body, her thoughts and her soul. This was really everything.

Although Felicity’s heart was hammering against her ribs like it was trying to break them and she was as out of breath as she had just run all around the world, she didn’t stop. She could feel Oliver trying to hold back and give her a break, so she could catch her breath and make sure that she was okay. Whenever he tried to pull back, she just tightened her hold on his hair and pulled him back towards her once more.

They wanted to make the most of the time they had left, so that was what they were going to do now. She wouldn’t settle for anything less, even if she might pass out from exhaustion in the next minutes.

 * * *

 Oliver didn’t want to wake up. He could feel his consciousness starting to push sleep aside, trying to fight itself to the surface. He didn’t want to let his consciousness win over the sleep though. He didn’t want to lose his dreams. They had been too great to let go of them already.

In his dreams, he and Felicity had spent hours under the Northern Lights. They had sat there, snuggled to each other and wrapped into a blanket to protect them from the cold. They had watched the aurora together, getting lost in the magic of that spectacular natural phenomenon.

As if the Northern Lights themselves hadn’t hold enough magic, Felicity had added some more magic to his night by telling him that she loved him and that she wanted to be together. They had spent even more hours under the Northern Lights, just cuddling and kissing with each other. The way it should have been for years.

The way it would be from now on.

That thought echoed in his head again and again until Oliver realized that it was true. They were together now, and it was going to be like that from now on. He loved Felicity, and Felicity loved him. That wasn’t even a dream.

With that, his eyes fluttered open. He had to blink against the dazzling night that came in through the windows. He hadn’t shut the jalousies last night because he had wanted the light of the stars to shine into the room and help him seeing Felicity. He had watched her for so very long before he had eventually fallen asleep.

Slowly, Oliver lowered his eyes to look at Felicity. Just like every night in the last few weeks, she had fallen asleep in his arms. They had slept with her back resting against his chest and his arm wrapped around her waist loosely for most of the times. Not so this morning when they were chest to chest, Felicity’s face almost hidden against his chest.

He could only see the side of her face, not nearly enough to please him right now. Given that he had finally been granted the privilege of being Felicity, he wanted to make the best of it. Watching her while she was sleeping and knowing that he didn’t have to feel any guilt about it was definitely one of the best sides of being together.

As carefully as possible, Oliver slid a couple of inches away and further down the mattress. He only stopped when his face was on one level with hers, just far enough away, so he could get a good and close look at her. Finally, he could really see her again.

Felicity was incredibly beautiful, always had been. In the warm Alaskan sun, her beauty only seemed to be emphasized. Her blond curls looked golden and, spread out on the pillow like they were now, they reminded him of a halo. It would fit. Felicity was his beautiful angel. She deserved a halo for everyone else to see what he saw in her.

A single curl of her hair fell into her face. It moved from her lips to her nose and back with every breath she took. It was sweet, but Oliver was sure that it was annoying and would wake her up eventually which would be a pity. Felicity didn’t get a lot of sleep lately, and she needed it after their last night.

Oliver felt a small wave of worry ebbing through him. She had been so exhausted that she hadn’t even been able to get up from the ground anymore. Her legs had been shaking when he had tried to pull her onto her feet. He had had to give her a piggyback ride and then he had needed to undress her and put her into one of his thick hoodies because she still insisted wearing his clothes rather than her own. She had been fast sleep before her head hit the pillow, a whispered “I love you” falling from her lips.

Quickly, Oliver tugged that strand of hair out of her face. He leaned in then, brushing a gentle kiss to Felicity’s forehead.

As soon as his lips made contact with her warm, sweat-covered skin, he frowned though. He pulled back for a second before he put his hand to the back of her head and kissed her forehead once more. Her skin was still as warm as the first time. She was running a fever.

His heart jumped in his chest nervously. A fever wasn’t a good sign. It meant that everything had been too much for her lately. She needed more rest, more time to catch her breath. Her state of health was instable and every exhaustion could throw her further back. If she had another seizure, that was going to be bad, worse so if it happened here. He had felt so helpless back then, and he doubted it would be any different during a second seizure.

Swallowing down the thick lump he felt in his throat, Oliver slipped out from under the blanket and pulled it as tightly around Felicity’s body as possible. He stroked over her hair and leaned his lips against her ear then.

“I will get you a tea and a heating pad,” he whispered and kissed her temple, “I will be right back.”

He didn’t want to leave her alone. He wanted to stay here with her, but he knew he had to let go and get downstairs to get her some of the stuff she needed to feel better. He’d be barely some feet away, he told himself, so it shouldn’t be too bad.

Still, Oliver’s steps were quick when he hurried down the stairs and towards the kitchen. Waiting for the water to get hot, he checked his phone. He had gotten some texts from his mom, asking how they were doing and if Felicity was okay.

Oliver was about to type his answer when his phone rang. Apparently, motherly instincts were able to cross quite some distance. His mother must have known that he needed her right now.

“Mom.”

“Oliver,” she said, apparently surprised that he was actually taking the call, “I didn’t think I would get you to the phone this early in the morning?”

“Why did you call then?”

“Call it motherly instincts, but I got the feeling that you needed a call.”

Oliver sighed with relief, and it turned into a chuckle. He might have criticized his parents from time to time, but they were really good parents at the end. They always knew what he really needed them, and they were there for him in those cases.

“I did need you to call me,” Oliver replied honestly, massaging the back of his neck and looking towards the stairs, “although I am not sure that you can help.”

“Try me.”

“Felicity’s not feeling well,” Oliver replied, “she is running a fever.”

“For how long?”

“I only noticed it now. It definitely wasn’t the case yesterday. We have been watching the Northern Lights far into the night. She was exhausted when we headed home, terribly exhausted. Maybe it was too much. Maybe we should have-"

"This was Felicity’s childhood dream, Oliver,” his mother interrupted him gently, “nothing you could have done would have stopped her from seeing the Northern Lights. Even if you had found a way, you would have taken an incredible experience from her. It wouldn’t have been fair to her, and it wouldn’t have been fair to the promise you have made to yourself.”

Oliver knew deep down that his mother was right. Felicity had wanted to go to Alaska and see the Northern Lights. She had wanted it so much that she hadn’t even considered asking her doctor if it was okay for her to travel to Alaska. Oliver had suggested it, but she had told him that was going – whether her doctor gave her go or not.

Maybe it wasn’t even the entire journey that they should have put on hold or slowed down even. Maybe it would have been enough to just take some breaks during their long make out session. It probably would have been just as senseless as telling Felicity not to go to Alaska at all.

He couldn’t have done anything different. Felicity wouldn’t have let him.

“Okay, so since the past is done and can’t be changed, maybe you have some advice what I should do now.”

“Well, a warm blanket, tea and a heating pad helped you a lot of times when you were sick.”

“One is already done, two are in preparation.”

Oliver didn’t have to see his mother to know that she was smiling. He could it hear her smile in her next words though.

“I am really proud that you are taking such good care of Felicity. Have I ever told you that?”

“A couple of times in the last weeks.” Oliver smiled, actually kind of happy that his mother was proud of him. He didn’t know why it meant so much to him, especially since she had told him that she was proud a couple of times already. “Anyway, what am I supposed to do now? I’m afraid that she will go through another seizure. I don’t know what to do then.”

“Felicity’s medicaments are supposed to stop that from happening.”

“But they aren’t a hundred percent safe,” he reminded his mother, “and I don’t want to risk anything. Besides, I can’t take her on a plane home when she is running a fever. It’s too dangerous and-“

“Okay, relax,” his mother told him gently, “I am sure it’s just a reaction to the exhaustion. I will contact Felicity’s doctor and ask her what to do. Your father can try figuring out if there are any good doctors around in the meantime.”

“He doesn’t have to,” Oliver replied, “I have made a list with all kind of doctors we could need during our stay.”

“Okay,” his mother said, “so I will call you if I find out anything else that is helpful.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“Anytime, Oliver.”

By the time they hung up, the water for the tea and heating pad was ready. He filled the water into the heating pad and added some teabags to the Thermos bottle. He glanced towards the zwieback briefly, but he knew that Felicity wouldn’t eat anything. Even if she wasn’t running a temperature, she wouldn’t eat anything. Breakfast was a problematic meal for her lately.

With the heating pad in one hand and the Thermos bottle as well as a mug in the other hand, Oliver went back upstairs. He opened the door with his elbow and pushed it open with his hip. Looking at the empty bed, he frowned.

“Felicity?”

She didn’t answer him, but the noises from the bathroom were enough to tell him where she was. Quickly, Oliver put the heating pad and Thermos bottle down and hurried towards the bathroom. Felicity was kneeling in front of the toilet. She vomited although the gurgling and gasping sounds told him that there was probably nothing in her stomach to vomit.

From all the nights that he had been out and got drunk, he knew that vomiting bile was worse than anything else. It was like your stomach wanted to vomit, but it just couldn’t do it, so the body was trying to find anything to vomit, even if it had to turn the stomach inside out.

With two large steps, Oliver stepped behind Felicity. He kneeled down behind her, holding back her hair and rubbing her back. He knew it wasn’t doing much, but it was better than not doing anything.

Once Felicity closed the toilet lid, put her arm onto it and lowered her face onto it, Oliver got back up. He flushed the toilet, got to the sink and filled it with water.

“Here,” he said when he kneeled down next to her on the floor and handed her the glass, “that will help.”

“I… need to rinse my mouth first.”

Oliver nodded. He could see on the tip of Felicity’s nose that she was nowhere near strong enough to get up. With a quick look around, he eventually grabbed a little bowl that seemed to be there to catch the water that came in from the leak in the roof.

He watched Felicity rinsing her mouth several times, spitting the water into the bowl. When she leaned her head back with a sigh, she held the bowl between her chest and her legs.

“I’ll take that.”

Oliver grabbed the bowl from her and emptied it in the sink. He put it aside and grabbed her empty glass of water instead. Only ten second later, he gave it back to her with more water. She took some urgent sips.

There was a part of him that wanted to push his hands into the pockets of his pants, but he wasn’t wearing any pants, so he wiped his hands up and down his boxer briefs awkwardly. Standing there, he watched Felicity. She looked exhausted and tired and sick. Last night, she had looked like she had been reborn. Now there was no trace left of that.

Taking in a deep breath, he sat down next to her. He put a hand to her head and pulled it closer until her head was resting on his shoulder. She sighed, snuggling to his side with closed eyes. Oliver kissed the top of her head before rested his chin there.

“How are you doing?”

“Not good,” Felicity admitted, “but a little bit better then when I woke up.”

Oliver sought Felicity’s forehead with his lips. He brushed a gentle kiss to it, feeling her temperature. It seemed to have cooled down a little indeed which was a good sign. It didn’t mean that she was okay though. She still looked like a ghost, her skin white except for the dark shadows under her eyes.

“Maybe we should cut our stay in Alaska short,” he said, rubbing her shoulder comfortingly, “and go home. Everything was a little much lately, wasn’t it?”

Felicity released a long sigh like all the worries that the Northern Lights had pushed away last night were back. They were pressing down on her chest and trying to suffocate her. Oliver knew that because he was feeling the same way since he had realized that Felicity was running a fever.

“Yeah, maybe.” Felicity sighed, her right hand holding onto his bicep tightly. “Maybe it was too much.”

There was some deep sadness in her voice, and Oliver hated it. He hated that he didn’t get along with how her body wasn’t playing along to her plans. There were so many things she wanted to do, but her body didn’t allow her to do those things. It just gave out and fought her soul, trying to make it feel as crappy as possible.

It had to be a thousand times worse for her.

“I’m sorry.”

Oliver could hear the tears in Felicity’s voice. She had loved their little trip here, so she certainly wanted to stay here as much as Oliver did. She knew as well as he did that she was better off in her bed in Queen Manor, close to her doctors.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” he whispered into her hair and kissed the crown of her head once more, “because this isn’t your fault.”

Felicity took in a sniffling breath. “Oh, really? Whose fault is it?”

She angled her head back looking at him. She looked angry and helpless at the same time, a terrible mixture that Oliver all too well. Being angry and having nobody to be angry at was dangerous because in a lot of cases you started being angry at yourself and expressed that through self-destructive actions. He knew a lot about those too.

“Nobody’s,” he told her gently and kissed her forehead soothingly, “which is why we aren’t going to blame anyone for this.”

Felicity didn’t seem to be satisfied with the answer. She released a grumbling sound, scrunching up her nose. She rested her head back against the wall behind her, just staring into the room with blank eyes.

He knew she was disappointed. This might be the last time that she was getting out of Starling City. She had liked to stay here a little longer, just like he did. She knew that she was better off in Starling City though, just like he did.

“I brewed you some tea and made you a heating pad.”

Felicity shot him a brief look before she nodded her head. With a deep inhale of breath, she rubbed her hand over her face then, erasing the last traces of her tears. She straightened her shoulders and nodded her head once more as if she wanted to ready herself.

“Do you think you can get up on your own?”

Again, Felicity shot him a brief glance. Her eyes lingered on his face a little longer this time though. She nodded.

“Okay.” Oliver nodded his head too. “I will make some phone calls and see what I can arrange and-“

He was already about to get up, a list of at least five different things he had to do already running through his thoughts. Before he got to get up on his feet, Felicity took his hand though. When he looked at her, he saw that the sadness was indeed brushed away, no trace of it left. There was hesitation there now instead, making Oliver frown.

Oliver stayed where he was, looking at Felicity. He got a feeling that whatever she was going to tell him was not something he would like to hear. He already got a feeling that he knew where this was going. It was the one conversation he had feared would happen in the back of his mind since he had woken up.

Looking at him, a small smile ghosted over her face. She laced her fingers through his and leaned a little bit more against him. It was sweet, but it didn’t necessarily look like a good sign, not as long as she was looking at him the way she did.

“Last night was magic.”

Oliver nodded his head. He didn’t want to say anything though. If she wanted a way out, he would leave that to her. He hated that thought, but it was her life and her decision. He had gotten a glimpse of what being with her could look like, and the thought of having it taken away from him already was worse than a lot of pain he had experienced in his life.

With held breath, he waited for that little word that had resonated in her words, the little word that told him that she was retreating.

“But-“

There it was.

His face must have given away his slight annoyance or fear or whatever messy mixture of emotions he was feeling at the thought what was going to happen. Felicity stopped, biting down on her bottom lip. She hesitated once more and just watched him quietly.

Oliver pressed his lips together tightly and took in a deep breath. It was her life and her decision, even if it had an influence on his life and, with that, should be a little bit his decision too.

“But we are back to reality today,” Felicity continued after a pause, “which means that I’d understand if you have changed your mind.”

Frowning, Oliver looked at her. Only now he got that she wasn’t trying to find a way out. He had been completely wrong thinking that, just because there were no Northern Stars anymore, Felicity wanted to forget that the magic had an I love you slip from her lips. She wasn’t backing away because she had changed her mind. She wasn’t retreating. It was quite the opposite. She was giving him an out in case he wanted to retreat.

Felicity’s first thought in the light of her temperature and vomiting, wasn’t that she was getting worse and maybe a step closer to dying. Her first thought was his wellbeing and her need to make sure that he wasn’t doing something that he didn’t want to do.

“I know this isn’t really sexy,” Felicity added with what was probably supposed to be a chuckle, but sounded a lot drier than that, “and, speaking of sex, I doubt that we will ever have any and-“

“Do you remember that time that I vomited into your bed?”

Felicity snorted which was answer enough. It wasn’t really possible to forget something like that. It had been one of the many nights after Thea’s death when he had gotten so incredibly drunk just to forget the pain for a couple of hours. Some nights, he had been so drunk that he had a complete blackout.

That one night, Oliver remembered that, although he had been completely drunk and at a great party, his grief had suddenly overwhelmed him. He had wanted to call a cab, but he had found himself calling Felicity instead. He had needed her in that moment, so he had called her. It had been the middle of the night, but she had taken the call and picked him up nonetheless. She had taken him home with him and helped him undress.

He remembered thinking to himself that he wanted to tell her that he loved her. He wanted to kiss her again and again. He wanted to undress and bury himself inside of her. He had been sure that having sex with her, meaningful sex with the woman he loved, would help him to forget Thea when not even alcohol had helped.

He didn’t know if Felicity had understood any of the drunk babble that had fallen from his lips or if he had made any attempts at touching her the way he had thought about in that moment. He couldn’t remember it later, and, if it had happened, Felicity hadn’t shown any signs of it. She had pretended like nothing had happened – nothing but the fact that he had vomited in her bed.

Sadly, he hadn’t forgotten that part either.

“Did that change how you felt about me?”

Felicity cocked her head, flashing him a smile. “Of course not.”

“See?” Oliver tapped his forefinger against the tip of Felicity’s nose. “So why would it be any different for me?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I just thought that it was fairer to give you a way out in case that is what you wanted.”

“I don’t,” Oliver confirmed to her once more, took her left hand and kissed first the engagement ring and then the palm of her hand, “because this ring means for better or worse, in sickness and in health.”

“Actually, it’s the wedding band that means that,” Felicity told him with slightly puckered lips, “and it’s going to be my sickness and your health.”

Oliver put a hand to the side of her face and brushed his fingers against her cheekbone. He hoped that they had enough time for her to understand that he just wanted to be with her. Of course he wished that she was healthy, but he couldn’t change that. Taking care of her was part of being with her, and he accepted that.

He leaned down to capture her lips in a kiss, but Felicity put her fingers to his chin and pushed him away, shaking her head.

“Morning breath is disgusting,” she told him with scrunched up nose, “and mixed with after-vomit breath I am sure it’s the worst.”

Oliver sighed, pushed her hand away and turned her head, so he could brush a kiss to the corner of her lips. That had to be enough for now, he guessed, but it was okay. They still had time later.

* * *

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[syntheticpoetry]

Constellations

Summary: When the text comes in from Tina, Kurt can hardly believe what he is reading. When Blaine doesn't respond to his messages he thinks his heart may actually stop beating. AO3 link || FFN Link

Author’s Note: I was watching Shooting Star and overcome with a million emotions, mostly having to do with the fact that we don't get ANY conversation or scene with the NYC gang during this insanely emotional episode. So this is my take on it. A little bit of canon, but a little divergence for the Klaine scene I desperately wanted to see as well as Kurt, Santana, and Rachel’s reactions. I promise there is a happy ending in this through the rollercoaster of emotions that is Blaine's mind during this absolutely horrifying ordeal. Big thanks to @roxymusicandlayers for beta reading this for me!

“And I am lost, so lost, but you’re the constellations that guide me.”

_________________________________________________________

“Alright guys, start texting and tweeting, whatever social media you use.  Let everyone know what’s going on here.  But don’t say where we are, shooters have smartphones too.” 

Blaine hears Mr. Schue’s urgent whisper as though he is underwater.  The words sound muffled and heavy with the depth of the room’s collective terror embedded into every upturned syllable.  Despite his best effort to keep the hysteria at bay, they know he is just as frightened as they are.  Blaine bites his lip and remains so still that every muscle starts to quiver, threatening to give way.  The burn feels familiar, like the ache he gets from lifting weights in the gym with Sam, and he pushes through the pain as though it is just one more rep away before they can finally rest.  

Any slight movement will betray his feigned composure and he knows the domino effect of his breakdown will begin.  Around him the gentle, frantic padding of fingers against glass echoes around the room like a discordant symphony of additional gunshots.  He knows they are not as loud as they actually sound in his head.  But the panic in his chest still swells.  He hugs his knees tighter.  The small movement is enough to send the first wave of tears down his cheeks.  He bites his lip harder and tries to focus on the pain of teeth against flesh instead. 

‘I should do what they’re doing.  Pick up your phone.  Keep it together.’

“Blaine, it’s okay.  It’s going to be okay,” Sam reaches a hand out and the touch of his fingers against Blaine’s forearm sends thunderbolts up his spine.  “Where’s your phone?” 

Blaine opens his mouth to speak and instead gasps loudly, the breath shuddering on the sharp intake of air.  He claps a hand over his mouth and squints his eyes shut as more tears come.  His mistake was moving at all.  Statues never cry.  He stretches out one leg and wrenches the phone from his pocket to see it at 1% battery.  With one hand pressed firmly against quivering lips, the muffled whisper comes convulsing out in staccato bursts.   “It’s— it’s almost— d-d—” 

He can’t bring himself to say the word dead.  As though breathing life into it will somehow fulfill some unspoken prophecy, and he is bound to doom them all by simply uttering it.  Sam squeezes his arm and whispers back, “Do you want to text anyone with my phone?” 

Blaine nods frantically when his phone screen finally turns to black.  He gingerly places it on the ground in what feels like slow motion, taking extreme care not to make a sound, and extends his hand out to Sam.  He thinks back to Mr. Schue’s garbled words and wonders if they really are underwater.  

“I can’t get in touch with my mom,” The subdued sound of Marley’s panicked sobbing ricochets off of the walls. “She won’t respond!  What if she— there’s no back way out of the kitchen!” 

While Kitty and Jacob whisper empty reassurances Blaine stares at Sam’s phone in his hand like it is a foreign object.  He knows what he is supposed to do with it, but the phone numbers in his mind are written in invisible ink.  

‘I can’t even remember my parents’ phone numbers.  Oh god, what if we die in here.  What if I never see them or Cooper or Kurt—”

A flash of hands clasped tight, buried deep into a mattress fills his vision.  The breathy whisper of his own name makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.  His trembling thumbs begin to fly seamlessly over the keypad and he has never been so thankful for autocorrect before.  Just as he hits send the dull pounding sound of running footsteps in the hall crescendos until—

Rattle! Rattle! Rattle!

The jittering of the door handle makes them all collectively jump as though this is just another lesson in synchronisation for their next competition.  Blaine’s heart slithers its way into his throat, and he drops the phone.  It slides away from him and bumps into Sam’s ankle.  Sam’s leg jerks and sends it careening across the floor of the choir room where it settles underneath the piano.  The entire scene is something straight out of a shitty comedy movie that feels completely unbelievable, like the chances of something like this happening are one in a million.  The irony of the realm of impossibilies reaching its peak today is not lost on him.  The entire room stills.  Blaine wishes that stupid ticking of the metronome in the center of the room would. Just. Stop.  It feels like a countdown.  

Smash!

Blaine jumps again and presses his hand harder to his mouth to suppress the sound that begs for escape.  He hugs his knees closer to his chest in a one-armed embrace and tries to will the demon perched on his shoulder whispering unpleasantries to vanish.   The burn settles in again.  Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Artie struggling to sit himself up against the cabinets.  He wants to move, wants to help him; but when he tries to unhook his arm from his knees, nothing happens.  He continues spectating as Sam begins lifting Artie up by his shirt until he’s sitting comfortably upright.  Then he witnesses the moment of pure panic in his best friend’s eyes right before Sam hisses frantically to Mr. Schue, “Brittany doesn’t have her phone, she’s in the bathroom! She’s all alone!” 

___________________________________________________

“Oh honey, no goddamn way!” Kurt snatches the remote back from Rachel.  “Santana and I were here first, you don’t just get to come in and throw a hissy fit about having a bad day so you can put on whatever you want.  How do you know we didn’t have a bad day too?” 

Santana averts her attention from the television to watch them instead, positively beaming.  Their fights are honestly her favourite thing to watch.  Always far more entertaining than whatever trashy reality shows she and Kurt had been immersing themselves in lately.  Today it had been a marathon of the first season of Rock of Love. 

“Well, considering you’re both in the exact same spot I left you in this morning I seriously doubt it,” Rachel huffs loudly and sinks down into a creaky wicker chair, arms folded tightly across her chest.  Kurt rolls his eyes at her and changes the channel back before the gentle buzzing of his phone across the coffee table distracts him from Rachel’s moodiness. 

“Go make some popcorn and I’ll let you vent— oh,” Kurt stares down at his phone.  

“What?” Rachel lowers her arms, keeping them folded across her stomach still, and exchanges her scowl for curiosity. 

“Sam texted me, he usually never…” The rest of his sentence trails off once he opens the message, leaving them to stare.  He loosens his grip and drops his hands against his thighs, the phone resting precariously on his open palms.  After the fourth quick scan of the text the message still does not seem to sink in. 

Sam 12:36 p.m. I love you so much and I’m so sorry about everything that happened I’m so glad I got to see you at the wedding you’re amazing and deserve everything in the world I’m so proud of you don’t ever settle for anyone less than perfect because that’s exactly what you are 

‘This can’t be for me.’

“Kurt, what is it? What’s wrong?” Rachel leans over, her palms on her knees now, her brows furrowed in concern. 

“What’s Trouty mouth saying?” Santana snatches the phone from him.  He does not even protest her invasion of privacy, his brain is too busy slicing through the fog to decrypt the reasoning behind the message.  She frowns and looks between the screen and Kurt a few times.  “Did I miss the part when you and Sam got together? No way my gaydar is that far off.”

“There’s no way that’s for me.  He obviously meant to send it to someone else.  Do you think he meant it for Mercedes?” Kurt plucks the phone back from her hands to reread the message before typing out a reply. 

Kurt 12:44 p.m. I don’t think you meant this for me? 

“What did it say?” Rachel pipes up and cranes her neck to try to read over Kurt’s shoulder.  Kurt tilts the phone to show her.  “Ooooh, wait did something happen between them at the wedding? Wasn’t he there with Brittany then though?” Kurt shrugs and scrolls through his contacts until he lands on Mercedes’ name. 

Kurt 12:50 p.m. Okay maybe random question but is there something going on with you and Sam again? I got the weirdest message from him just now 

Mercedes 12:55 p.m. ???? What did he say? 

Kurt takes a screenshot of the message and forwards it to her. 

Mercedes 1:00 p.m. Omg nope nothing happened with us at the wedding.  Maybe he meant to send it to Brittany? Has he not replied? 

Kurt 1:02 p.m. Nope

Tina’s name flashes across the top of his screen in a drop down banner and he taps on it.  “Oh my god.”  The words come out small and frightened as he reads the message.  “Tina just said—”

“She just texted me too,” Santana replies in an eerily despondent voice that Kurt has never heard her speak in before.  It suddenly makes the situation feel ten times more real.  For once, she’s silent as she stares down at her own phone, frantically typing out a text.

“Me too,” Rachel whispers.  “Oh my god, do you think everyone is okay?” She stands and crosses the room, pacing by the window as she rereads the text over and over again.  “Kurt, have you heard from Blaine?”

‘Blaine.’

Kurt cannot find the words to respond to her as he taps on his favourites list.  Blaine’s name is still at the very top.  He had told himself he had never gotten the chance to adjust the list and remove him after their breakup.  Really, he never had the heart to erase his name.  The sight of it now makes his throat constrict.  He tries to speak but no sound comes out.  

“Brittany isn’t texting me back.  Neither is Sam,” Santana borders on hysterical as she grips her phone between her hands like it is her only lifeline.  Kurt mimics her action as he composes a text to Blaine. 

Kurt 1:10 p.m. Tina texted me are you ok

“Has anyone heard anything from anyone else?” Rachel asks.  Neither of them respond. 

Kurt cannot look away from Blaine’s name.  The feeling washes over him suddenly and intensely, dragging his logical mind into the riptide of superstitious terror as he recites the name silently like a mantra.  If he looks away, he might lose him forever.  It doesn’t make any sense to think that way.  He knows it.  But it provides some tiny semblance of comfort and control as he tethers himself to it and waits for a response.  Two long minutes pass by and still nothing comes. Tina’s name and phone number fills the screen, swallowing Blaine’s name, and he finally finds his voice, the words frantic and choppy as he taps multiple times to decline the call, “Someone call Tina, she’s calling me.  Someone call her so she stops calling me!” 

The sight of Blaine’s name again anchors him down once more and the rest becomes background noise. 

'Please be okay.  Please be okay.  I’m never saying goodbye to you, you idiot.  Just text me back.  Please.’

__________________________________________________________

“Mr. Schue, I have to get to her! I have to make sure she’s okay!” 

Blaine watches, horrorstuck, as Mr. Shue and coach Beiste struggle to restrain Sam.  He is thrashing wildly in their arms, his quivering voice crescendoing past the panicked whispers that everyone else has adapted.  It isn’t until coach Beiste whispers something in his ear that Blaine cannot hear, and Sam locks eyes with him that he finally settles down.  Blaine exhales sharply, lungs blazing and heart thudding at the base of his throat, and realizes he must have been holding his breath at some point.  Sam slinks back over to their corner and sits beside Artie, his head hanging down in defeat.  Blaine tries to parrot back the same empty promises Sam had whispered earlier, wants to tell him everything will be okay even though he is not quite sure if he believes it himself, but nothing comes out.  

“Maybe she’s with Tina,” Artie whispers hopefully to Sam.  “Maybe she isn’t alone.”

Blaine takes note of Artie’s lack of confidence and how he is careful not to speak in absolutes.  But maybe he is right.  He thinks about the word maybe in the context of his life.  Maybe Kurt did not want to admit how much their hookup at the wedding had meant.  Maybe he and Kurt really are back together.  Maybe Kurt still loves him.  Maybe he will see him again when this entire ordeal is finally over with.  ‘Maybe’ starts to feel like a pretty good word the more he thinks about it.  ‘Maybe’ feels like hope.  ‘Maybe’ feels like a second chance.  

The sound of a door opening breaks through Blaine’s inner dissection of the word, and he looks over just in time to see Mr. Schue skulking out of the door.  It reminds Blaine of one of Finn’s video games about spies and stealth.  Maybe they will get another chance to play it together after this.  He clings to that and tries to focus on the upcoming Friday night dinner with him, Burt and Carole as Marley’s sobbing continues to grow louder.  Her gasps for air further enforces his previous belief.  Maybe they really are underwater. 

It isn’t long before the choir room door opens again and a collection of cheerleaders rushes in followed by Mr. Schue.  Blaine watches Sam vault off of the cabinets like a spring loaded toy to pull Brittany into his arms.  She has never looked so terrified before.  But there is no sign of Tina amongst the red and white uniforms.  Blaine forgets about the maybe’s floating around his brain like buoys at sea and feels like he is drowning again.  He twists his head away and stares down pathetically at the blank screen of his cellphone, willing it to magically come alive.  

‘How could I have forgotten to charge it? I used to lecture Kurt about this all the time.’

Maybe it is a sign.  Maybe it is a metaphor of sorts.

He does not know when Artie began recording them with his phone, but the start of Marley’s hiccuped confession fills his lungs with water again.  “In the bottom of my desk drawer,” She breaks off to compose herself.  The volume of her crying sends off alarm bells in Blaine’s head and he tunes out the rest of her message.  He looks towards the hastily strewn barricade against the door.  Maybe it will prove to be sturdy, but it does not feel like enough.  The continued tapping of fingers against glass screens fills in the gaps of silence between the metronome and scattered crying when Artie pans the camera onto Blaine.  It feels like a slow dance towards a death sentence.  Maybe the rhythmic ticking really is a countdown. 

“Blaine, do you want to say anything to anyone?” 

He drops his face down into his knees.  Maybe he should take the opportunity to leave behind one tiny fragment of his life before he becomes another forgotten statistic.  But Artie has already redirected the phone towards Sam and Brittany when Blaine looks up again.  Maybe he has missed his chance.  ‘Maybe’ starts to feel like a cursed word now.  Like something sinister and evil and concrete.  Maybe he has inflated the word with too much hope causing some sort of rebound effect.  Maybe—

“All clear!” 

The words break through the hurricane in the choir room and suddenly everyone is getting to their feet except Blaine, who still feels sluggish and dazed.  Sam and Brittany approach him and hold out their hands.  He stares at their open palms, trembling and sweaty, and his body acts before his brain does to grasp them.  They lift him up like he is made of helium despite the lead shackles he envisions around his ankles.  He becomes aware of Sam’s arms around him and shakes away the anchors in his own arms to return the embrace.  The burn is still there, leaving his muscles fatigued and weak, but he cannot bring himself to let go now that he has latched on.  

“It’s okay, it’s okay.  See? We’re okay,” Sam whispers against his ear before Blaine realizes why he is taking such extra care to console him.  The sound of his own sobbing, punctuated by rattling intakes of air, reminds him why he tried to remain so still at the start of all of this.  He buries his face deep in Sam’s neck to muffle the sound and feels the addition of Brittany’s slender arms around both of them, leaving him sandwiched in between.  The shuffling sound of footsteps towards the door leads to the eventual end of the embrace and Sam jogs over to the piano, crouching down to retrieve his phone before they join hands and follow everyone else on the way to the parking lot.  

“Blaine, I have a charger in my car.” Sam says as he raises his phone to his ear.  Brittany slips her hand away from Blaine and he hears her whimpering Santana’s name before seeing she has also pulled out her phone.  Blaine laces his fingers with Sam and clings tightly as they weave their way through the crowd towards Sam’s car.  “Mom, hey I’m okay.  We’re okay.  We’re outside now— please don’t cry, I promise I’m okay.” 

When Sam finally pulls his hand free, Blaine thinks he might just float away.  It takes Sam only a few seconds to wrench open the car door and jam his key into the ignition.  “Blaine, here— Wait, Kurt’s calling my phone.  Mom, let me take this, and I’ll call you right back? Blaine’s phone died, he has no way to— yes, I’ll be right home as soon as I can.  I love you too.” 

Blaine’s fingers are numb by the time Sam has pressed the phone into his hand.  Kurt’s frantic, breathless voice breathes life into them, and he curls them tightly around the device just before it is about to fall.  “Sam! Brittany called Santana and said you guys made it out.  I can’t get in touch with Blaine, is he—”

“It’s me,” Blaine exhales and the volume of Kurt’s sob makes his knees shake.  He leans against the car door but slides down it as Kurt continues to cry loudly in his ear.  

“Why weren’t you answering me?” Kurt sputters out, his voice traversing the length of his entire vocal range like a warmup. 

“My phone died, that’s why I texted you with Sam’s—”

“You didn’t say it was you!” Kurt’s voice rises three octaves.  Blaine presses the phone closer to his ear like it will actually close any of the distance between them.  “I thought it was a mistake! I thought it was Sam! Why didn’t either of you get back to me on— Blaine, are you crying or laughing?” 

“Both, I think,” Blaine responds airily between watery laughter.  In the timespan of less than two hours he feels as though he has mastered every element associated with human emotion.  The fire in his lungs has been reduced to embers as Kurt’s voice continues to blanket him.  The laughter should feel inappropriate, but it feels like letting go.  It feels like a release.  He finally feels grounded.  “The stupid phone— it was insane— I dropped it and Sam kicked it under the piano— if you saw it— I’m sorry, I don’t know why I can’t stop laughing, but it just feels so good to hear your voice again.  I thought I was never going to hear it again or see you or—”

“Don’t you ever, ever, write a message to me like that again!” Kurt interrupts his rambling and suddenly the laughter becomes lodged in his throat.  Maybe he had been wrong to assume all of those ideas about them earlier.  Maybe Kurt’s next few words will feel like an actual gunshot wound.  

“Kurt, I’m sorry, I thought—”

“I told you I’m never saying goodbye to you,” Kurt parades through his apology, trying to sound bold and certain.  Blaine can see the hairline cracks in the foundation as Kurt wavers through the next command.  “Don’t you ever try to say goodbye to me like that again, do you understand me?” 

“Understood,” He replies with the remnants of his previous laughter, the solitary sound coming out strangled and relieved all at once.  “I’m sorry I scared you.”

“You’re sorry you—” The way he says it sends shivers down Blaine’s spine.  It is the same breathy exhale that had been reserved for their night in the hotel as their hands sank deeper and deeper into the mattress.  “Blaine, you must have been fucking terrified, how can you focus on me?” 

“Because I love you,” Blaine says simply.  For once there is no anxiety or fear to cage the confession.  It flies freely over the soundwaves and he does not worry about the reply because he already knows the response without Kurt having to say it.  But Kurt says it anyways. 

“I love you too.” 

‘Maybe’ starts to feel like a second chance again.  ‘Maybe’ feels like a promise. 

[masc-reader-insertss]

carnival

@snekintheeye asked: Kia ora! Hi! Could I request an Alexei x reader, where reader is a cop (thought to be a toxic manly man) that finds an injured Alexei at the Carnival and just fluff accepting vibes all around?? S3 killed me, my dude :'))

this took much longer than it should have oof, here you go:>

——

y/n could never seemed to catch a break. being a cop was a way to help people, and it hadn't been panning out like that so far, especially this summer. physical strength had always been one of y/n's advantages, he'd thought people would feel safe when they saw him. despite what his appearance gave off, y/n wasn't a tough guy. he cried at sappy movies, halloween was his least favourite time of the year, and he was still afraid of the dark. no one saw that when they looked at him, and y/n hated it. he hated the looks he would get when he was on patrol, he hated that no matter what he tried he always seemed to intimidate people. no matter what he tried, he could never shake the reputation of the intimidating cop that everyone seemed to be wary of.

he hadn't done anything to warrant this reputation either. he'd never never hurt a fly, anyone who knew him personally could vouch for that, people in hawkins just weren't used to seeing some tough looking big city cop in their small town. because of this unspoken reputation, he was mostly stuck with security, his presence was enough to ward off any would be delinquents easily, and today was no different. mayor kline's fourth of july fun fair. his task was simple enough, patrol around the ground and make sure no one was getting up to anything illegal, nothing out of the ordinary. he'd expected tonight to be like any normal night, and it seemed as if it would be, till he'd decided to take a quick look behind some of the stalls to make sure no one had decided to try and hide away from any prying eyes.

it was coming closer to the end of the night with every stall he checked, and y/n was getting ready to head back to his set round when he'd noticed someone propped against a food stall. "you can't be behind.." his voice trailed off as he got a better look at the person, a man, and he was clearly heavily injured, if the copious amount of blood staining his shirt was anything to go by. "shit- what happened to you?" y/n knelt down beside the man, pressing his hand against the source of the blood. how someone had gotten an injury like this at a carnival was beyond him, but that besides the point right now. "what on earth happened to you?" he asked, letting out a quiet sigh when all he got was intelligible mumbling from stranger. reaching for his radio, y/n went to call for backup a confused frown forming on his face when the injured man, who somehow hadn't passed out from the blood loss yet, grabbed his hand to stop him.

"i'm just calling for backup-" y/n didn't get to finish his sentence before he was being interrupted. "listening-" from his accent y/n could immediately tell this guy wasn't from around here, or anywhere remotely close to here for that matter, he probably didn't speak much english either. "who's listening?" y/n moved his hand away from the radio to place it on top of the already bloodstained one trying to stop the wound from bleeding, applying as much pressure as he could muster. the man pointed towards the wound, looking up at y/n, and he understood immediately. "the people who did this to you?" he asked, looking away for a moment when he got a nod in response. this was not how he'd expected tonight to go.

"okay.. i'm gonna get you help, alright? I'm not leaving you alone, and we can't use the radio, so.." they were fast running out of options, and y/b could see the stranger growing weaker with every passing minute. for a moment he hesitated, he'd never thought he'd have to deal with anything like this, but he knew he had to act quickly if there was any chance of this guy surviving. quickly he moved to pull off his uniform shirt, shivering a little at the abnormally cold summer night wind that hit him as he was left in just his singlet and pants. "you need to keep pressure on this, okay? i'll get you help, i promise" his words probably did nothing to calm the bleeding man since y/n was sure he couldn't understand him, but he was sure the other got the jist of it when he pressed the shirt against his wound and moved to press his hands against it before pulling away.

peaking his head out from behind the stall, y/n couldn't see any way that wouldn't draw attention to them, and he couldn't call for help either. if y/n couldn't find a way out soon, this man was going to die. y/n was starting to loose hope, until he spotted a jacket strewn across the back of a carnival stall. they might not have been able to get out without being seen, but they could get out without being noticed. reaching out to grab the item of clothing, y/n made a mental note to try and find the owner to replace the jacket, but there were more pressing matters to attend to.

slipping the jacket over the injured mans shoulders and pulling up the hood, he wrapped one arm around him, looking down at him. "think you can stand?" he asked, keeping his arm firmly wrapped around him so he could lean against him as he stood. "keep your head down and lean against me. the only way we're getting out of here is if no one spots you" the stranger let out more unintelligible murmurs and y/n took that as a cue to start walking, making sure to go slow enough to accomodate for the others injuries. despite being in such a huge crowd, the two were almost invisible, not a single person paid attention to them as they walked around, to ingested in the activities of the night. it was perfect for them, and after a painstaking five minuets of walking, y/n finally reached into his pocket to pull out the keys to his car.

with much effort, y/n was able to get the other into the car, and he'd never been so grateful for the sirens as he turned them on to excuse his extreme speed. who knew how much time they had left. "i'm guessing you have no idea what i'm saying, but could you at least tell me your name?" y/n asked, looking in the mirror to check back on the man slowly bleeding out in his back seat. when he spoke up, y/n almost couldn't hear him from how quiet his voice had gotten, but he was able to pick up "alexei" and y/n gave a small nod. they were less than two minuets from the hospital now, thanks to y/n's speeding. "alright then alexei, i'm y/n. mind telling me how you ended up in that situation?" there was silence, and y/n felt his entire body heat up with fear for a moment as he thought that they hadn't made it in time, but when he looked at the mirror again he realised that alexei merely hadn't understood him, and he let out a breath of relief. with that, they pulled up to the hospital, and y/n couldn't recall a time in his life where he'd run any faster, even during his academy days, but he'd burst through the doors of that hospital with such force it made his legs ache.

"we need help- he's been shot, he's lost a lot of blood" was all he could say, the adrenaline had really kicked in now, and it wasn't till he was left pacing around the waiting room that he realised he was covered in blood. there'd been an uncomfortable silence since the moment y/n had begun pacing, and he knew that all these people seeing him like this probably didn't do anything to help his reputation, but he really couldn't have cared less at that moment. it felt like hours had passed when someone had finally called out his name. he'd about paced a hole in the floor by that point. despite having known this man for less than twenty four hours, every passing minute without any word from him made him grow even more worried.

"how is he?" y/n asked, nails pressed firmly into his palms as he waited for any news, he was prepared for the worst, it had really seemed they'd gotten here with not a second to spare. "he's awake, very disoriented and, he can't tell us much but, he'll live" the doctor gave a soft smile as she spoke and y/n would have hugged her if he weren't covered in dried blood. "he's been asking for you though" those words made y/n look back at the doctor in front of him, eyebrows raised in confusion. "he has?"

she nodded, motioning for y/n to follow her as she lead him towards a room. "yes, you're all he's really talked about. i think he wants to thank you" y/n could feel a smile creep onto his face at that, and that smile stayed as he made his way into the room, taking a seat next to the bed. "told you i'd get you out" and it was clear that alexei still had no idea what he was saying, but he smiled none the less, and y/n thanked any higher power that was listening that he decided to look behind those stalls. "you're not from here, are you" y/n asked, leaning against the arm rest of the chair. there was silence again, and y/n took that as confirmation.

this was not how y/n had expected the night to go, and he almost couldn't believe that for the first time he'd actually /saved/ someone. y/n was startled out of his thoughts when he felt a hand on his arm, and he looked up to see alexei giving a small, tired smile. "thank you" he spoke, his thick accent making it much harder to understand. y/n gave a smile though, looking back at alexei. "no need to thank me, i couldn't just leave you there. just doing my job"   of course y/n would have done the same thing regardless if it was his job or not, he hoped any person would. despite the language barrier, y/n could tell that alexei was truly thankful that y/n had stepped in when he had. both of them knew what very well could have happened if he hadn't decided to check behind those stalls, not that they wanted to think about it.

for the first time in his career, y/n felt like he'd actually helped someone, and for the first time y/n felt like his reputation didn't matter. he could only hope this was the start of something new.

[whichstoodonrockyshores]

Chapter Three

(Helena, Hamilton and jakub who's mentioned lmao are @alex-fa-ch 's)

Madison and Helena looked at each other, obviously concerned. He had just..ran out, not even telling them where he was going. They both sighed, and got up from the bed.

“I’m not sure why he’d want flowers… he doesn’t have a boyfriend or anything..” Madison said, and suddenly everything clicked for Helena. She was the smarter of the two, after all. She sighed suddenly.

“He wants flowers for the grave.”

“Oh. Oh..that’s right.”

There was a knock at the door, a loud one. Neither of them were sure who it was, but it definitely wasn’t Wy. So they quickly peaked through the doors window. Hamilton was standing there, looking worried. They looked like they were getting a little impatient.

“Wy!” They yelled. “Open the door! Please!” they looked very nervous. And that's when Madison opened the door. They let out a sigh of relief, wiping their tears away. Ham quickly came inside, as Helena closed the door behind them. They all sat down on the couch.

“Is Wy awake?”

“Yeah..he ran off to get flowers for the grave.” Madison explained. Hamilton let out a loud sigh, and they got up again.

“He does that every day..” they said, shoving their hands into their hoodie. Madison and Helena got up too, and followed them out of the house and into their car. The two were a little confused about where they were going, but didn’t say anything. They looked frustrated, after all, and pissing them off would be a very bad thing. Neither wanted a gun pulled on them. But they figured it out pretty quickly when they pulled into the parking lot of a graveyard.

“oh..” Madison muttered. He finally understood what they were doing, as Hamilton ran out of their car and into the graveyard. The twins followed them, and Wyoming was sitting alone, in front of a grave. He was sobbing, but looked up when he heard Hamilton running towards him. He braced himself, expecting them to jump on him, but they didn’t. They just stopped in front of him, and suddenly pulled him into a hug.

“I can’t believe you come here alone every day, dammit. We should come with you.” They said, as Wy pulled them a little closer. He stopped crying for a moment, just looking shocked. But his tears came back quickly, as he began sobbing loudly into Hamilton’s shoulder, as they comforted him. The Montana’s watched this, and Madison was the first to join them and hug his brother as well, and Helena quickly followed.

“I just..I miss him so much-“ Wy cried, as Madison suddenly took over and was the main one holding him.

“I know you do Wy..you want him back so bad..”

“I do...I do..we were supposed to be together for a while longer..”

“And you wish you’d spent more time with him?”

“Yea...I want him to hold me a while longer..”

“Sh...shh..you wanna go home Wy? I can bring you home..” Wy sniffed and looked up at his brother, quickly nodding. Madison lifted him up, and Hamilton and Helena followed. Wy quickly went to sleep in the back of Hamilton’s car, still being held by Madison. Helena was up front, quietly having a conversation with Hamilton.

“Is Jakub okay?”

“Jakub is fine..he misses me though. I haven’t been home in a while.”

“Where have you been staying?”

“A motel..it’s okay. Pretty expensive but I’m not short on money..” Ham said, thinking back to their crummy motel room. They were lucky they had found any motel around this area.

“You can stay with me or Mad, you know..” Helena said, knowing Hamilton would probably reject the offer. She was right.

“No, I’m alright. I have to stay here, for Wy. He’s not okay, Helena..being in Montana might not be safe. What if he..” Ham said, trailing off. Helena knew what they were going to say. And she knew they were right. Wy wasn’t doing well again. There was always a chance he would try again. And he could die. He could die this time.

“You should stay with him.” Madison said, chiming in finally. Hamilton sighed.

“He’s not letting me. He keeps refusing to let me stay..” both of the Montana’s sighed. “I think he doesn’t want to admit he’s not doing well again. He hates that.”

“Well he’s gonna have to admit it, and soon, before he does something fucking stupid.” Helena said, turning away and looking out the window.

“He’s not stupid, Helena.” Hamilton said firmly, pulling into Wy’s driveway.

“He’s not stupid but he does damn stupid things.” She said, with a small sigh. Madison looked a little frustrated, but carried Wy inside again and laid him down so he could sleep comfortably. He actually looked pretty peaceful, as they covered him with a blanket. They left his room, and they all just sat down on the couch, sitting in very uncomfortable silence.

“What are we gonna do about this..?” Hamilton finally asked. Both of the Montana’s looked confused. Hamilton was almost always the one who knew what to do, why were they asking them?

“I don’t know, Ham..” Madison said, taking his hair out of the braid and letting it down. Helena sighed, also having no clue. Her silence let Hamilton know that. Everyone went quiet again, and they stayed that way until Wy stumbled out of his room.

“Tha..thanks for bringin’ me home..”

“It’s no problem, Wy.” Madison said.

He sat down in between Hamilton and Madison, and Madison immediately started braiding his hair and relaxing him. He looked a little better when Madison finished, and leaned on him as Helena turned the TV on, and they ended up watching Frozen. Wy loved that movie, after all.

“Thank you guys..I don’t know why you’re bein’ so nice..”

“You’re our brother Wy, and we love you..”

“That’s...that’s nice. Love y’all too.”

He seemed to just zone off after that. But at least he wasn’t crying. Until he was, crying a little and leaning on Ham for comfort, which they provided. They hugged him tight and held him until he fell asleep again.

“He sleeps a lot..” Madison said, a hint of worry in his voice.

“I know, but he’s done that a lot generally. Don’t worry too much about that.” Hamilton replied.

[bourbonboredom]

A Reason To Believe Chapter 13

Being an undercover officer is a perilous job and Flip Zimmerman knows this far too well. He keeps his romantic life limited to one-night stands, never letting anyone get too close. That all starts to change when he meets a vivacious Jewish woman named Elle just as he’s about to take on a seriously dangerous undercover job; infiltrating the KKK. Elle and his undercover work make him question things he’d never thought to before and challenge him to see the world, and himself, in a whole new light.

A Flip x OC Fic

Word Count: 2,947

Warnings: mentions of 

When you're weary, feeling small

When tears are in your eyes, I will dry them all, all

I'm on your side, oh, when times get rough

And friends just can't be found

Like a bridge over troubled water

I will lay me down

(x)

The one advantage he now had was control over his narrative. 

The only people who had a clue to his real identity were dead now. He planned what he would say on the drive back, taking the time to consider all angles that could pop up. He was sure Connie could throw a wrench in things, but that was a risk he’d have to take. He rushed back to the steakhouse, finding the remaining members still socializing on the grounds. The women had moved to a different room, leaving the men to shoot the breeze and smoke cigars. They were laughing at a joke someone had just told as Flip burst back into the room.

"Hey, where'd you run off to? It's been hours," Walter asked.

"Felix and Ivanhoe went rogue. I tried to stop them but—“

"They went what?" Walter's voice rose. "Mr. Duke, please excuse us, there's been an issue,"

“No, I'd like to be apart of this. Is everything okay?" The leader asked.

Flip motioned for them to follow him out of the room and they obliged. They stood in the hall and he did his best to look upset.

"Two of our members weren't in compliance with the organizations morals. They wanted to incite violence and chose to target the local Black Student Union," He explained.

"They had an explosive device that they were going to set off at the Black Student Union’s headquarters. I found out about what they were trying to do and tried to talk them out of it but they wouldn't listen. They took off and I tried to catch up with them but I was too late,"

"Did they kill anyone?" Walter asked. "I mean our creed is nonviolence but did they at least, you know, succeed?"

"When I got there, the house was fine but their car was on fire. I—I think—“ He didn't finish his sentence, letting them put two and two together.

Duke closed his eyes and sighed. Walter looked defeated.

"I tried to get closer, but the police were arriving and I had to get out of there. I got back here as soon as I could,"

"Thank you, your service is appreciated," Duke said, clasping his shoulder. "It's always a sad day when brothers die for their cause,"

"They were good men," Flip agreed, lying through his teeth.

"Was Connie with them?" Walter asked.

"She was but survived, she was taken in to custody I think. I don't know if anything like this has happened before but should we take care of their house for them? Maybe get rid of anything that could incriminate us? I mean with Mr. Duke running for office we wouldn't want this coming back our way,"

"That's good thinking. I'll wrap things up here and meet you at their place in an hour. If the police start poking around, call me from a payphone and we'll re-group," Walter agreed, Duke nodding along.

"It was an honor to meet you sir," Flip shook the leaders hand firmly.

"You're doing great things for this organization, Stallworth. A natural born leader if you will," Duke responded. "Take care out there,"

He said his goodbyes and dashed out to his car. He had already ensured that no officers would be poking around the house yet. He wanted to see if any evidence could be gathered for his case before the rest of the station swooped in.

He parked his car on the Kendrickson’s street, looking around for any neighbors before walking to the side of the house. He checked for an unlocked window, something people commonly forgot to do in the nicer parts of town, and found one right near the kitchen. He slid it open and squeezed his long frame through, stumbling as his foot found purchase on the hardwood floor.

He closed the window after him and began to look around. The house was still. It was hard to imagine that half of the people who lived in it were now dead, and the other half was headed to jail. The only sound in the house came from the ticking clock in the kitchen.

He walked around, taking a brief glimpse at how the house had come to a stand still. It still looked lived-in. Boots by the front door, unlaced and on their sides. The daily mail sat on the kitchen counter, not yet opened. The main level of the house looked normal enough, practically a piece of Americana. All of the klan paraphernalia was stored in the basement.

As he opens the door to the cellar and begins his journey downstairs he's reminded of the first time he came to this house. How Felix had taken him downstairs and held a gun to his head, trying to make him take a lie detector test. His stomach sank as he saw the same test still sitting on the small table. He reminded himself that was over, he'd never be in that situation again.

His eyes swept over the rest of the basement. There were a few guns, some old tool boxes and a lot of junk. He wouldn't have time to dig through it all. He'd only have about twenty minutes until Walter showed up, he needed to get what he needed and get out.

He rifled through a few boxes, looking for any proof. He became increasingly frustrated, each box containing nothing of use.

He'd wasted ten minutes and found nothing. He didn't have time for this shit. He tried to think of where else in the house there could be anything. He thought of the bedroom, maybe they stuffed something up there.

He headed back upstairs, leaving everything approximately where he'd found it, shutting the door behind him. He started up the staircase, finding the bedroom at the end of a small hallway. The bed was made and the room was nicely decorated. Connie's doing, probably. He started opening dresser drawers, looking under piles of clothes. Nothing. He tried the closet, shoving his hands into the pockets of shirts and coats. Just some shopping receipts in Connie's pockets.

He stopped himself from yelling in frustration. He needed proof for this investigation, something that would show concrete proof of their involvement beyond some snapshots and recordings. He looked toward the immaculately made bed. He crouched down to check under it, met with nothing yet again. He hit his head pulling out, cursing this whole operation. He drive his fist into the floor, an attempt to get rid of his aggression.

The floorboard knocked out of place.

He looked down, it was dark under the bed but he could just make out a small box. He pulled it out, taking a better look at it in the quickly dimming light. He opened the box, and he sucked in a breath upon seeing the contents.

There were six memberships cards scattered in the box, one for every year of Felix's service, along with recruitment flyers the klan had produced and some photos of him with the white robes on. Connie smiled proudly next to her husband in the photo. Another photo was at the very bottom of the box. He immediately recognized a familiar scene. The shooting range the organization had taken him to could be seen in the background, the vulgar targets looked newly installed. There Felix stood with a rifle, smiling as he aimed it at one of the targets.

“Now these would do just fine for evidence,” He thought to himself as he held the photos.

Suddenly, he heard a car engine. He rushed to the bedroom window. And saw Walter's car pull up to the house.

Fuck. He had to get out of there now.

He stuffed the contents of the box in his inside coat pocket to keep them out of view. He shoved the box back into the floorboards and readjusted the wood. He ran back downstairs as quietly as possible, peaking out windows when he could to make sure he hadn't been spotted. The dark house served as a good cover, keeping him out of sight.

He stopped near the front window. Walter was standing by his car smoking a cigarette, presumably waiting for him. There was no way he'd be able to get back to his car now, he was too close. He held his jacket close to his chest, hoping nothing would fall out as he snuck back out the window.

He stumbled back onto the grass, shutting the window behind him. He took a deep breath before straightening himself out and brushing himself off. He snuck to the front of the house and made himself just visible to Walter. He beckoned for him to come into the yard once he caught his eye. The man stubbed out his cigarette on his shoe and followed him.

"Do any of the brothers know what happened yet?" Flip asked.

"Not yet, we kept it quiet at the meeting, didn't want to cause a fuss with Duke still there. I'm sure they'll find out by tomorrow morning," He responded. "We should clear out anything that directly links him and Connie to our chapter. We don't want any trouble with the police,"

"I hear ya, I don't think theres a key hidden anywhere. There's gotta be an open window somewhere though,"

They crept through the yard, letting Walter test a few windows before Flip guided him to the one he knew was open. They entered the house the same way he had done moments before and began to look around.

After several minutes it became apparent that Walter was much more familiar with where Felix put things than himself. In the basement, boxes of klan memorabilia were carefully tucked away in tool chests under the drawer bottoms.

Most was simple enough, flags and robes and paperwork. Things he was kind of glad he didn't touch because the other man clearly knew what he was doing. Then another box was pulled out and opened. Walter smiled at the contents and held it for Flip to see. It was a mummified finger, decapitated from lord knows who. Under the finger was a simple tattered gold star made out of cloth with the word “Jude” written across it.

His stomach dropped. Where did Felix even get that from? he was too young to have fought in the war. Was is handed down? Was it purchased? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. He willed himself to not look away, slap it out of Walter’s hand, he had to keep cover.

He twisted his mouth into a small smile, looking up at Walter and giving a quiet laugh.

"Typical Felix," He gritted out.

"Yeah, he was a strange guy," Walter mused, closing the box and slipping it into his jacket.

They continued with this for another hour or so. They walked through the rest of the house, checking drawers and cabinets for anything incriminating. He held his breath as they walked around the bedroom, waiting to find out if Walter knew about the loose floorboard.

He waited by the doorway as the man circled the bedroom, checking the closets and drawers as Flip did before. He found nothing new. He stopped at the end of the bed, dropping down to check under it and he felt his heart stop. Walter stayed under there for what felt like hours. He couldn’t hear what was going on beyond the pumping of blood in his ears. Was he about to be found out?

Walter stood back up, staring at him before speaking.

"I'm not seeing anything up here, guess he kept it all in the basement. We should get out of here. Before anyone notices,"

It felt like a weight had been lifted from his chest.

"Yeah, good idea,"

"I can't hold all this shit, you take some of it. Hide it if anyone comes around questioning you. Who knows how this is all gonna go down," he slapped his hand on his back as he moved passed him.

The two went back downstairs, dividing up the boxes and calmly slipped back out the window. Flip took care to not grab the box that Walter had out the finger in. It was evidence, but he couldn't bear the thought of looking at it, or handling it, ever again.

"Take care, i’ll call you when it feels safe to," Walter whispered before going back to his car.

Boxes in hand and cards in his pocket, he travelled back to his own car, throwing them in the trunk before driving off. He took a long route to Elle's. A really long route. He was paranoid and  exhausted, wanting nothing more than to hold her in his arms.

He stopped at the first payphone he saw, parking his car alongside the glass box before putting in a coin and punching in Elle's number with a practiced ease. She picked up after two rings.

"Flip?" She asked, voice filled with worry.

"It's me. I'm on my way, I'll see you soon," He assured her.

She breathed a sigh of relief before the two said their goodbyes and hung up. He got back in his car and went on his way.

He'd bring the boxes to the station tomorrow, submitting it as evidence. At a stop light, he took the cards out of his coat pocket and took another look at them. The vicious red of the papers stared back at him. He was given a card just like this, but with his undercover name. He chuckled to himself as he thought about how Duke would probably lose it if he knew who the real Ron Stallworth was. The light turned green and he put the cards in his glovebox before stepping on the gas.

He was outside Elle's door less than ten minutes later. He ran up the stairs toward her apartment, breathing a sigh of relief when he reached her floor. He stood outside her door, taking a moment to look at her mezuzah. He stared at it, taking in its meaning. This place is blessed. This place is safe. He reached out and ran his fingers across it before unlocking the door and walking in.

Elle emerged from the kitchen, immediately throwing her arms around his large frame and burying her face into his chest.

"Hey trouble," He murmured, running his hand along the back of her neck. Her curls were still pinned up under her nurses' cap, she hadn't bothered to change.

"You don't get to call me that today Mr. ‘I'm going back out there’," Her words were muffled by his chest. He laughed.

"I'm home, there won't be anymore trouble tonight," He assured her.

She grabbed his shirt with her fists and dragged him down into a kiss. He could feel everything she'd felt that day; fear, worry, anger, relief, but mostly love.

"Did you get what you needed?" She asked after.

"I did. I think I have a good amount of incriminating evidence,"

"Good. Tear them the fuck down," Her gaze had an intensity to it.

She switched to a gentler look as she motioned back to the kitchen.

"I have some steak and potatoes cooking, hungry?"

"Absolutely,"

They sit in silence for a few minutes as they eat, taking time to de-stress now that the worst was over. He'd seen Elle stress-cook before, after Felix showed up at his house, but she had much more time to prepare this meal. Everything was cooked to perfection. She seemed pleased with her work as she ate, and much more relaxed than even a few minutes before.

"I called home earlier to let them know what had happened at work today. Well, an abridged version. I left out the meshugas racist part. Mama was a lot less upset than I thought she'd be, but she did tell me I should quit and settle down though,"

"I don't think settling down is in your wheelhouse," He smiled

"You're right. But I did tell her I found a nice guy out here in the mountains. He's even Jewish. I'm pretty sure she dropped the phone when I told her that,"

"I'm glad she's happy to hear about me," He laughed.

"She'll want to talk to you sometime, probably give you the shakedown of when you're coming to the city with me to meet the family,"

"I’d like that. You'll have to teach me some German so I can talk to them,"

"You say that as if they'll let you get a word in. I'll be surprised if they let you even get your own name out before questioning begins,"

"My family will be the opposite. Just silence with weird polite questions dotted in,"

"You want me to meet your family too?" She seemed surprised.

"Eventually yeah, whenever you're ready for it," He didn't want to come across as eager.

The last time he brought a girl home was in high school. This would be a big deal for him, she was a big deal, but he'd let her know that later.

"Well we can work out the details later, let's just relax for now," She tried to hide a smile, looking relieved they were on the same page. She wanted this to move in the same direction as he did.

The evening was becoming the rainbow after the storm. His life was hectic and dangerous, but he found someone who could put up with it. Tomorrow he would go into the office and the case would continue. He'd be undercover, cleaning up the mess that today was. But he wouldn't worry about that now.

She was with him, they were safe, that's what mattered.

______

NOTES

So after watching the film a few times, I had a few questions about how the team thought they were going to be able to continue the undercover work after the explosion/Connie’s arrest. I kinda filled in what I thought could have happened in order to keep Flip’s cover. 

Where did Felix get the finger and the patch? No idea but it was gross to write! Just wanted to hammer home the idea that he’s a sick bastard.

“Meshugas” is yiddish for crazy.

There’s one more chapter left!

[elyvorg]

The Ultimate Talent Development Plan AU is the one canon AU in which everything is thoroughly good and despair-free and everyone lives happily ever after. …Except for Maki, potentially, because this is also the one AU in which her assassin cult is actually real and she might have to just go back to killing people once she graduates. This is Unacceptable and needs to have something done about it, because Maki deserves a happy life even more than anyone else after what she’s been through.

One of the possible ways of dealing with this is that Shuichi would fix things for her using his detective skills, like he offers to do in her last FTE in canon. He wouldn’t directly take down the assassin cult himself, but he could amass enough evidence of its awful deeds to pass on to some kind of government authority which could then move in and arrest all of its members and take the kids somewhere safe.

One time while I was thinking about this, though, a thought occurred to me: what if the assassin cult got wind of the fact that Shuichi was investigating them? What would they do then?

Imagine Maki going back to her work after graduation while clinging to the thought that it won’t be long now, that this new name on her hit list might just be the last person she’ll ever have to kill before it’s over and she’s free… only to see the name Shuichi Saihara.

And, well, that thought sure wouldn’t get out of my head and blossomed into an entire story. It would take me too long to write this as an actual fic, so instead, here’s just all of the ideas I had for how things would go, essentially telling the story right here in bullet-point form.

Part 1: how we got there

Let’s assume Hope’s Peak privileges meant that Maki didn’t have to work as an assassin while she was attending. So she’d begun to get used to having a relatively normal, non-murdery life for the three years she was there, especially with everything Kaito did to help her start facing her issues and feel more like a normal girl than a murderer.

Perhaps Maki had begun to hope, after Kaito had helped her admit that she never wanted to kill anyone, that Hope’s Peak’s supposed privilege of making its graduates “set for life” could mean that she wouldn’t have to be an assassin any more. Like, the Academy would pull some strings with the assassin cult to just completely cut her ties with it and let her live freely without the fear of those kids starving if she didn’t do what she was ordered to.

Towards the end of the three years, Kaito and Shuichi start to worry about what’ll happen to Maki once she graduates and ask her if they can do anything, but Maki tells them that she expects Hope’s Peak will do something like that for her and she’ll be fine. (She’s not completely sure they will, but she doesn’t want her friends to worry.)

…Except, that doesn’t happen. Turns out what Hope’s Peak meant by “set for life” in Maki’s case is that she’ll get to be an assassin for life. In one of her FTEs, Maki vaguely alludes to the fact that assassins in her cult are killed off once they’ve outlived their usefulness – like, perhaps, when they reach adulthood and are old enough to possibly start thinking for themselves. All Hope’s Peak did by pulling strings was make it so that that won’t happen to Maki, so that she’s trapped in her life of killing people forever! How nice of them!!!

When she learns this, Maki probably doesn’t even want to tell Kaito and Shuichi, because she doesn’t want to worry them and anyway there’s nothing they can do about it (right?). Kaito, of course, notices her acting off and distant and prods the truth out of her. Even then, Maki insists that it’s not a big deal, she’ll be able to handle it now that Kaito’s helped her feel like she’s more than just a killer; she can just live a double-life between horrible murderer and normal person and be fine, right?

Kaito and Shuichi both try to tell her that would not be remotely okay, but she insists that she doesn’t want them doing anything reckless for her sake. Besides, at least this means that she’ll never have to be replaced, meaning that as long as she’s alive and killing people, none of the other kids from her orphanage (those kids that Kaede played piano for, and that Himiko’s arranged to do a magic show for soon!) will ever have to go through what she did. That’s worth it to her.

(Kaito and Shuichi are still not okay with this, but they don’t push the topic for now.)

 At Himiko’s orphanage magic show, everything is generally adorable and lovely, and Maki uses this to firmly remind herself that these kids’ smiles are what she’s being a murderer for, that it’s fine and she can handle this and nothing needs to change.

But while she’s there for the show, Maki happens to get talking with one of the kids, a girl of around ten or so, and gets the most horrifying pit in her stomach as she realises that the men who recruit assassins have been visiting, and they have their eye on this girl.

They’re replacing Maki anyway. She’s not saving anyone by continuing to be a murderer. Nothing she does as an assassin, not even as the Hope’s Peak-approved Ultimate Assassin, is ever going to make a difference to this cycle of misery.

And, that’s it. That’s the last straw. Maki manages to keep herself together long enough for the magic show to end and Himiko to remain unaware of anything weird, but as soon as they’re alone, she turns to Kaito and Shuichi and begs them to help her end this. She doesn’t want this any more, not for herself or for any of those other kids. Hope’s Peak has shown itself to not give a fuck, so Kaito and Shuichi are the only people she can turn to. She has no idea how they can do something about this – it barely seems possible at all – but that… that’s never stopped Kaito, right!?

As it turns out, Kaito and Shuichi have already been having discussions about how they can help Maki while she wasn’t around (because they knew if they brought it up in front of her she’d just shut them down), so Shuichi has already been thinking about investigating the assassin cult and taking it down that way.

Kaito was still planning on bringing this up to Maki soon and persuading her to let Shuichi help. But he’s so incredibly proud that Maki realised on her own that she didn’t want this anymore and has made the decision to try and change her fate and claw her way towards something that seems impossible! (Of course, she’d never have been able to reach that mindset without everything Kaito’s done for her, but because he didn’t have to push her to take that final step, Kaito probably doesn’t quite realise just how completely thanks to him this is.)

Part 2: the ickiest job

So now we’re basically at the point I described in the beginning of this post. As soon as they graduate from Hope’s Peak, Shuichi gets underway with investigating the assassin cult to prove what it really does and who its members are. Maki has to go back to reporting to them and acting like she works for them for the time being, but she knows it won’t be long until Shuichi ends this.

Kaito put his astronaut training on hold for now just so that he can keep an eye on them both. He has Shuichi keep him updated about the progress of his investigation, and he keeps talking to Maki as often as he can to make sure she’s feeling okay about being suddenly thrust back into that world that she’d almost escaped from. She’s mostly doing fine, but that’s only because she hasn’t received any new hit requests yet.

Until she does. Maki tells herself that this new order is going to be the last one ever, that she’ll only have to kill one more person before Shuichi can save her… and then she sees Shuichi’s name, and everything falls apart.

She can’t refuse the order. She just can’t. The cult is still fully functional and in control of her orphanage – who knows what they would do to those kids (and to that one girl they’ve already got their eye on!) if she refuses. The kids have always been why she’s doing this. She would do anything to keep them safe; she made that promise to herself long ago.

She also knows perfectly well why the cult gave this job to her rather than any of their other assassins with no connection to Shuichi. They wanted to see if she was still capable of doing it, because if she wasn’t, then she’d be compromised and of no use to them any more. If she refused, they’d probably kill her off anyway, despite their agreement with Hope’s Peak.

It’s not like that would even save Shuichi, either – they’d just pass the job onto another of their assassins. And not all of them specialise in painless deaths. Shuichi was already doomed from the moment the cult realised what he was doing and decided he had to die. Surely Maki being the one to do it, as quickly and kindly as she can, is the best way for it to happen?

Who was she kidding thinking she could ever get out of this, anyway? Assassins are always necessary. Her being an assassin has always been necessary. It doesn’t matter what she wants or how she feels. It never mattered. The impossible is just impossible; she should never have allowed herself the luxury of believing any of Kaito’s idealistic nonsense.

Kaito, who reached out to her and still believed in her even after learning the truth about her, and now she’s going to repay that kindness by murdering his best friend. He never should have got close to her and made the mistake of caring about her in the first place, and then Shuichi wouldn’t have put himself in the cult’s way and the two of them could have been just fine without her. She’s just a murderer who only ever hurts people. She never deserved them.

So, as she’s sinking into a pit of utter despair (and I am not using that word lightly here), Maki prepares herself to break into Shuichi’s house at night and kill him in his sleep. That way, at least he’ll never know that his “friend” betrayed him.

Meanwhile, Kaito heard from one of Shuichi’s recent check-ins that at one point he worried his cover might have been blown, but things seem to have been okay for the past few days, so, eh, probably not?

Except… that night, Maki suddenly doesn’t show up to Kaito’s regular mini training sessions to check on how she’s doing. She doesn’t answer his texts or calls when he tries to ask her where she is, either. He might have brushed it off as simply something having come up and her having forgotten to tell him, and also forgotten to charge her phone… but Maki doesn’t forget things like that. Then Kaito remembers what Shuichi told him the other day, and he pieces it together.

and, no, no no no no no, this can’t happen. He won’t let this happen. He’s meant to be their hero, he has to be able to do something about this, he has to.

So Kaito drops everything and just fucking sprints to Shuichi’s house in the middle of the night, his heart in his mouth, begging the stars and the universe and every force of good in the world to let him not be too late.

Maki stands over a sleeping, oblivious Shuichi, trying to convince herself that her hand holding the knife isn’t shaking, that she never had a choice, that she’s just a heartless killer who doesn’t care – only to be snapped out of it by Kaito’s voice yelling her name at the top of his lungs. Not just her name, her nickname: Maki Roll! He knows why she’s here, but she doesn’t want to do this!

And Maki, knowing that she should just finish the job right now and escape out the window before Kaito has to see her do it, finds herself frozen. Shuichi’s awake now, staring at her in bewilderment and fear, no longer blissfully oblivious… and Kaito’s right. She doesn’t want to do this. It shouldn’t matter, but he’s right.

Moments later, Kaito makes it into Shuichi’s bedroom and immediately puts himself between Maki and Shuichi. (Shuichi, having only just woken up, is not only frightened but also extremely confused and is quite happy to just stay behind Kaito where it feels safer for the moment until he can get his brain to process what the hell is going on.)

Kaito makes it very clear that if Maki’s going to kill Shuichi, she’s going to have to kill him, too. He’s not letting either of his sidekicks get hurt.

Maki’s assassin mask is not on so tightly that she can’t realise what Kaito means by those words. He’s not only protecting Shuichi from being killed; he’s trying to protect her from carrying out the act by making it as difficult for her as possible. He still cares about her, even though she was moments away from murdering his best friend. He still believes that she won’t kill him despite what she was about to do to Shuichi. How can he be such an idiot?

But of course Kaito still believes in her; Maki Roll’s his sidekick! – and Maki snaps at him to stop calling her that! She’s not a normal girl; she’s never going to get to be one. He’s doing that thing he does, where he makes her believe that she deserves to be happy, that the impossible can be possible, and maybe it is for him, but it’s not for her; it never was.

This whole time, she’s still brandishing her knife, but it’s like in those sprites of hers – she’s not pointing it at Kaito or Shuichi; she’s just holding it out like some kind of barrier, like she can stop Kaito’s words getting through to her. She can’t falter here, because those kids, that girl – who knows what’d happen to them? And it’d be all her fault, because she was selfish, because she let herself care too much, because Kaito brought that out of her like he never should have done.

But Kaito just smiles and tells her that hey, sure the impossible’s possible for her as well, they’ve just gotta work together to make it so! There’s gotta be a way out of this, too, right, Shuichi?

(because Kaito doesn’t have a goddamn clue how to actually fix this situation beyond putting himself between Maki and Shuichi in this moment so she won’t be able to go through with it, but Shuichi should know a proper way out of this, right? Shuichi always knows what to do.)

Shuichi, having more or less managed to calm his panic enough to understand what’s going on by now, tells her that he’s almost finished with his investigation. He’s pretty sure he only needs a few more days’ work to have everything he needs to take it to the authorities and take down the cult. Then those kids will be safe and Maki won’t have to do anything she doesn’t want to do any more. She just needs to trust him and believe that it’s possible.

While he’s telling her this, Shuichi moves out from behind Kaito, a silent show of the fact that he still trusts her despite what he knows she almost did. He believes just like Kaito does that Maki doesn’t want to do this, that so long as she knows that there is a way out of this, then she’ll be brave enough to take that risk and let him help her.

It works. Maki had already admitted that she didn’t want this life any more before getting the hit request on Shuichi; her mask was hanging on by a thread the whole time she was here and it can’t withstand this. She kind of just breaks and begins to cry – the first time that Kaito and Shuichi have ever seen her do so. Kaito goes to hug her, partly as an excuse to gently take the knife from her, but mostly just because she really, really needs it. She doesn’t resist.

Kaito spends the hug telling her that everything’s going to be okay, not like it’s a reassurance but just like it’s fact, and in that Kaito way he has, he manages to get her to just about believe it herself.

 Part 3: on the run

After Maki’s done sobbing into Kaito’s shoulder, she pulls herself together and gets down to business. The cult will be expecting her to report in that she’s completed the job soon, possibly as early as tomorrow. As soon as they realise she hasn’t and has gone rogue, they’ll send in other assassins to kill both her and Shuichi, so they can’t stay there.

(She’s still worried about what’ll happen to the kids, but Shuichi reassures her that they won’t be able to risk doing anything drastic to them for now, not when they know Shuichi’s onto them and looking for evidence of shady activity. Now of all times is when they’d want to keep pretending to be a perfectly normal orphanage that takes care of its kids. If they’re going to hurt the kids, it’ll happen later, and Shuichi’s going to make sure there won’t be a later for those assholes.)

For the time being, though, Shuichi and Maki are going to have to go into hiding. Shuichi will continue to investigate as best he can from there and Maki can use her knowledge of assassin methods to predict the ways in which the other assassins will be looking for them and keep them both safe.

And Kaito? …Technically he has nothing to do with this; the cult has no reason to want him dead and possibly doesn’t even know he has any connection to Maki or Shuichi beyond Hope’s Peak. He could just walk away from this right here and be safe.

When Maki tries to point this out to him, Kaito just stares at her and says, “Are you stupid or something?” and that’s the end of that.

(Of course she knew he’d be too stubborn to even consider leaving them like this, but she still couldn’t help but try and get him to do so, just because then at least he’d definitely get out of this alive and unhurt.)

So the three of them get the hell out of there, cut all communication with everyone else they know for the time being for their safety, and go into hiding.

(Maki makes Kaito ditch the hairstyle before they leave because it’s way too eye-catching when they need to lay low. He pretends to be indignant at first – surely there’s gotta be some kinda downside to doing that! – but then dutifully sticks his head under Shuichi’s shower for a couple of minutes without complaint.)

Kaito may not have much skill in terms of investigating or physically protecting them, but he’s here for moral support. Which isn’t just a trite excuse to make himself feel important – his friends genuinely need that more than ever.

After all, Shuichi and Maki are both kind of terrified and barely holding it together. Shuichi’s never been in a situation this dangerous before, and he’s anxious enough at the best of times. And Maki’s afraid not just for the three of them but also for the kids – if they don’t succeed, those kids will suffer the consequences too and it’ll be all her fault. So having Kaito there, somehow still managing to be his usual optimistic self, means the world to them right now.

(Kaito is equally terrified, of course. He’s just better than either of them at hiding it, and determined to do so because he knows that they need him to be strong for them, and that this is the only thing he can really do for them in this situation at all.)

Maki is quietly impressed by how strong Kaito’s managing to be for them. She’s always seen him as – well, sure, the friend who changed her life and inspired her to believe things could be better, but also as just a carefree ridiculous idiot who’d never had to go through the kind of horrors from her world. She was never entirely sure whether he’d really be able to stay that optimistic if he experienced anything close to as serious as what she’d been through – not that she ever wanted to have to find that out, of course.

Yet here Kaito is, in this life-or-death situation, still managing to make this seem like it’s just a big adventure where the good guys are obviously going to win, because that’s just how things work!

(And Maki knows full well that there’s no way Kaito’s really that oblivious to how serious the situation is, that he’s doing this on purpose to help them, and that’s… kind of incredible, actually?)

Shuichi’s much less surprised to see Kaito like this, because he’d always been under the impression that Kaito really is this strong. He’d never exactly imagined they’d ever be in this kind of situation, obviously, but even so, it just feels natural somehow that Kaito would be able to do this for them.

Kaito, on his end, is so proud to see how well his sidekicks are holding up. It’s such an incredible sign of Maki’s growth that she’s able to bring herself to fight against the cult and try and escape the reality she’d resigned herself to for so long.

And meanwhile, Kaito never realised Shuichi would be so good in a crisis. Sure, he still seems to be scared, but despite that, he’s able to focus on his task and Get Shit Done in a way that Kaito himself feels utterly lost with right now. This is the first time in this universe that Kaito has really found himself not only being proud of Shuichi, but almost… looking up to him?

(Oh you poor innocent UTDP Kaito, you have no idea.)

Being Kaito, he is also significantly underestimating the extent to which Maki and Shuichi are only able to be this strong because he’s there supporting them, despite the fact he’s very deliberately trying to do that for them and knows that it’s the only thing he’s really contributing here.

I’m not sure precisely how things go while they’re on the run, because the exact plot logistics of how Shuichi can investigate the assassin cult are not a thing I’m great at figuring out. (This is part of the reason why I won’t actually write this as a fic, aside from just not having the time.)

I’m here for the character stuff, so I’ve mostly been thinking about the quiet moments in between the detective espionage where the three of them are relatively safe together in whatever hideout they’re using. Kaito would, of course, still insist on training sessions each night – at least as much as is possible while they’re trying to stay inconspicuous and keep an eye out for enemies – and they’d be able to use those as moments to collect their thoughts and reflect on the situation.

Maki would feel awful for the fact that Kaito and Shuichi are putting themselves in this much danger just to help her. When Kaito notices she seems bothered about something that isn’t just the situation itself and prods this out of her, she’d try to insist that it’d have been better if they’d never met her and befriended her in the first place, and then they wouldn’t even know or care that child assassins like her are suffering because nobody was ever supposed to know or care.

Kaito scoffs at that idea completely. He’s a hero! Obviously he’s here to save people who are weak and suffering, so of course he should have befriended Maki in order to be able to help her and those kids like they’re doing now. What kind of idiot is she being to think he wouldn’t have wanted to do this from the start!?

Shuichi, being rather more realistic about things, admits that of course he’s really scared right now and a part of him wishes he hadn’t got wrapped up in this. But still, Kaito (and Kaede, and others) helped him realise during their time at Hope’s Peak how much he cares about helping people, and that he can use his detective skills to do that – so he’s really proud that he’s able to use his detective skills right now to literally save lives, both for Maki and those other kids. So yes, he’s scared… but he doesn’t have any regrets either.

Maki is also still hung up on and feeling awful about the part where she nearly murdered Shuichi. She can’t stop thinking that she might have actually gone through with it if Kaito hadn’t got there in time.

Shuichi hesitantly tells her that he doesn’t think she would have done – at least, he doesn’t want to think so. He saw the look in her eyes as she was standing over him when Kaito’s voice woke him up, and thinking on it now, he’s pretty sure that wasn’t the look of someone who could have done it.

(Shuichi doesn’t consider, however, that that was after Kaito’s voice woke him up, and Kaito’s voice was what started to take Maki’s mask down, too.)

Kaito insists it just doesn’t matter. He did get there in time, and she didn’t kill Shuichi because she didn’t truly want to, and so there’s no point getting worked up about possibilities when they’re not what actually happened and are never going to happen now.

(He wants to tell himself that he believes Maki still wouldn’t have done it anyway, that her better nature would have broken through and stopped her without his help. But, then again, would he really have run so desperately to Shuichi’s place like he had if he’d truly believed that? Kaito doesn’t voice that thought.)

Maki then brings up the fact that there’s always the possibility she could still kill Shuichi right now and potentially get herself and the kids out of this situation safely. How on earth can either of them truly trust that she won’t after she almost did so before?

Kaito’s answer is simple – because he wants to! He wants to believe that she’s stronger than that, that she can believe Shuichi will save them and isn’t going to give up and take the coward’s way out. After all, she’s his sidekick, and of course a sidekick of his is capable of facing something like this with courage! She already showed that when she stopped herself before!

Shuichi agrees that he wants to believe in Maki – because she’s his friend. He knows that he wouldn’t want to kill his friends if he were in Maki’s shoes, and would try as hard as he could to find some other way out, so he wants to believe that Maki feels the same way.

Maki relents and accepts that they really mean that and really aren’t scared of her in this situation at all. After all, she wants to believe that she’s stronger than that, too – and if they believe in her that much, despite everything, then maybe she really is that strong after all.

They are friends. That’s the core of this whole story – these three friends who are so scared of losing each other and of losing themselves, just desperately holding onto each other and protecting each other through this terrifying situation. Shuichi’s detective skills are necessary to take down the cult and end this; Maki’s assassin skills are necessary to protect them while he’s doing this; Kaito’s luminary skills are necessary because without his support Shuichi and Maki would both fall apart. (And without Kaito’s friendship over their time at Hope’s Peak, neither of them would have even dreamed of trying to do this, that it was even possible to take down the cult and give Maki a happy ending in the first place.) They need each other and they are FRIENDS and I love them so much.

Part 4: the end

I’m not quite sure precisely how things would end, because aaaa plot logistics again. But one way or another, they succeed in taking down the cult and get out alive. One universe in which even one of these friends dies is more than enough and I’m not about to make another.

Maybe during some kind of final showdown, Kaito makes an unthinking reckless leap to protect Maki, which succeeds, but he ends up getting shot in his left arm because of it. I dunno, I just think the parallel to what happens to him in canon would be neat.

While everyone is otherwise fine, Maki feels guilty that they didn’t all get out unhurt. Now Kaito’s going to have to postpone starting his astronaut training for several months while his injury heals and it’s all because of her. Kaito literally could not care less, though; this is the most insignificant price to pay for Maki and Shuichi and those kids being safe.

Maki keeps insisting that it’s not okay, that he shouldn’t have got hurt on her account, and in Kaito’s increasingly fervent attempts to get her to drop it, he kind of accidentally blurts out that this is nothing because he was ready to die for them if he needed to.

When Shuichi and Maki press him on that, he clams up and doesn’t elaborate. He meant what he said, but that’s all there is to it, stop talking about it, guys.

(Kaito spent enough time while on the run thinking about how he couldn’t bear to lose Shuichi and Maki, such that he realised he would rather die trying to protect them than live knowing that he’d failed to do so. He has no regrets about having decided that, but… he’s kind of shaken up by the thought of it. It’s the first time in his life he’s really properly thought about his own mortality, not just in the sense that life is short and you never know what might happen (guess who lost his parents to a car crash), but in terms of being genuinely prepared to die if it should ever become necessary. He’s always been so fiercely determined to live his life to the fullest; it’s… weird to know that he would have willingly cut it short. That he’d have been the one to prevent himself from ever making it into space.)

(Oh you poor innocent UTDP Kaito, you have no idea, again.)

Long story short, they’re all safe and free to live out the rest of their lives now, but they’re also just a liiiiittle bit traumatised by this.

Kaito would of course try to hide the fact that any of this got to him, just like he hid how scared he was while it was actually happening, because they need him to help with their trauma and how could he do that if they knew he was struggling too?

Kaito’s outburst about being ready to die for them and the way he was uncomfortable and cagey about it afterwards would give Shuichi and Maki an inroad to realise that something’s up with him, though. So one way or another, with enough prodding and reassurance, they’d eventually be able to get through to him and make him realise that it’s okay to show weakness to them and it doesn’t make him any less inspiring of a hero. 

(Yes, it’s me; I couldn’t resist finding a way to put that outcome in this AU too. Kaito deserves to get over his issues and learn not to be an idiot about this no matter what universe he’s in.)

So they’ll all be okay in the end. Even Kaito.

Regardless of their newfound issues that they’re having to work through, both Kaito and Shuichi firmly agree that it was worth it. They’d have taken twice this amount of pain if that was the only way they could save Maki and all those kids like her from ever having to go through even worse trauma ever again.

Kaito’s a hero, after all! – and this whole thing has made Shuichi realise more than ever, after Kaito points it out to him, that maybe he can be a hero too.

(Alternatively, instead of this ending described here, maybe Kaito has a considerably worse time than just getting shot in the arm.)

[astroninaaa]

clarke griffin sucks here’s why

Hi! I’ve wanted to actually write some anti-Clarke discourse for a while now, specially because I’ve hated her since I first heard her talk to someone else in the show, but I was always hesitant because of blorkes and Clarke stans and all that. Well, I’m doing it anyway.

(DISCLAIMER: all this comes from her depiction in the show. I have no idea how book Clarke is, since I’ve never read the The 100 books. Now buckle up and enjoy my angry and not-that-thought-out rant.) (And I’m putting it under the cut because it is... a lot.)

I know many people started to dislike Clarke after season 3 or whatever, but I believe she has been problematic since the beginning. 

For starters, she put herself in a position of power during season 1, and that’s a fact. People say she “had no choice but to become a leader”, but that’s a lie. Just like Bellamy did, she made the decision to bear leadership: from the moment they arrived, she was already making orders and trying to boss people around. Was she wrong? No, she wasn’t! She wanted to keep herself and others alive, which is a good thing. But she didn’t have to. Btw, if she had never done anything things wouldn’t have change, to be honest, since they did not get to Mount Weather and built their little cute camp around the dropship. I mean, Jasper wouldn’t have been speared and they would have found out about the Grounders a bit later, but I think nothing much would’ve happened. Actually, maybe things with the Grounders would have been easier, considering I firmly believe the theory that the only reason they attacked Jasper in the first place was because he was all happy about finding Mount Weather, the place that had been kidnapping and killing Grounders for a long ass time. 

My point is: I believe Clarke wasn’t actually needed as a leader when they first came down to Earth. I think she was just a spoiled priviledged girl, just like Bellamy said she was, who could not get around to letting go of the power she held. There was no more priviledged and non-priviledged, so she secured her influence by becoming a leader. 

An important statement that people tend to forget: she was just as guilty as Bellamy was for Murphy’s hanging, if not more. She was always talking about justice and whatnot, but when she had the chance to be just, she wasn’t. A knife is not enough evidence to fucking accuse someone of murder — during 1918 and 1919, there was a serial murder going around called “The Axeman of New Orleans”, who used axes he found in people’s houses to kill them (I’m a fan of true crime sorry not sorry). If police went by Clarke’s logic, the dead would’ve been the murderers, which certainly does not make much sense. The least she could’ve done was talking to him separately, conducted a trial or whatever, anything but accusing Murphy of murder before the whole camp. She knew they hated him, and so did Bellamy, and that’s why Bellamy didn’t want her to tell everyone about Wells’ yet. And yes, sure, she was grieving, but grief is still not an excuse for what she did to Murphy, it isn’t. She might have tried to stop the hanging later or whatever, but it was still a direct consequence of her actions and would not have happened at all if she had stopped to think for even a moment. The truth is that Clarke does not comprehend that she can actually be wrong, a fact that repeats itself multiple times throughout the series.

(There are other times she fucks up during season 1, but Murphy’s hanging is what stands out the most to me, so I decided to leave it on that. But don’t worry, I have many other examples!)

I can’t even express how much she pissed me off during season 2. Yes, Mount Weather was a very suspicious place and she was right to be wary, but how could she leave her people and escape? She wanted to get help and all that, but she fucking knew they were bleeding out the Grounders and was definetely aware they would soon try something alike to the 48, and she still left them. She left them alone and clueless to the danger they were in, and she didn’t even know if the Ark had come down alright or if there were other survivors. Mount Weather was lying to them about not finding anyone but she couldn’t be sure of that — everyone could have been fucking dead and she would have left her “people” to die too.

I’m not even gonna talk about Lexa’s betrayal because that wasn’t actually her fault, I admit that. Was she stupid to trust a Grounder? Yes. Should she have considered the fact they tried to kill Raven the first opportunity they got (when Lexa’s cup was poisoned) and the fact that the Grounders did not trust them because of Finn and wrongly Raven? Obviously. Does that make Lexa’s betrayal her fault? No, but she should have seen it coming, tbh.

And, again, she put herself in a position of power where she wasn’t needed. There were actual adults ready to look for a better solution, but she didn’t let them. Of course she didn’t  — how could Princess Griffin let go of her power?

Letting Mount Weather drop the bomb on TonDC was... horrible. It was not the act of a leader and it was not the act of a good person. It was selfish, it was the act of someone who leaves their people to die with the excuse of “looking for help” without even knowing if there is help waiting for them at all. It would have revealed Bellamy’s position, yes, but Bellamy would have preferred that than letting people die like Clarke and Lexa did. THEY LET PEOPLE DIE. Hundreds of people! God, they didn’t save the Grounders and the Skaikru that had come for a DIPLOMATIC AND PACIFIC reunion, but Clarke really thought her deal with Lexa would mean something if a better deal appeared, right? Damn, that was naive.

And then she left her people again by the end of the season, of course. “I bear it so others don’t have to” my ass — Bellamy still went apeshit and Jasper still got depressed and no one actually saw her bearing it, so they bear it too. The only thing girlie did was leave behind responsibility and betray her friends so she didn’t have to face regret for her actions. Meanwhile, people needed her, since she had put herself in a position of power for so long that everyone actually looked up at her, for some unknown reason, since she mainly fucked things up.

I don’t remember season 3 that well, but I know that Bellamy’s rant to her when she came back and was trying to be his friend was absolutely reasonable and true. She fucked off into the woods, represented Skaikru in Polis without them knowing for a while, came back to Arkadia and tried to get some power again, but then no one cared about her. Bellamy was too busy making the wrong decisions because of his emotional pain and sorrow to actually give a shit and they had greater things to solve than filling Clarke’s need to be worshipped.

Also, the whole “blood must not have blood” shit? Funny, real funny. It’s just like Lexa pointed out: “blood must not have blood until it applies to your people”. She is SUCH a hypocrite it pains me. And she did not spare Emerson for “blood must not have blood”, she did it because she knew it would make him suffer more and that came back to bite her in the ass. Karma’s a bitch, I guess. And she tried to make Luna become Commander against her will, which I’m not gonna talk about, but was just really fucked up.

I think my hatred for Clarke peaked during season 4. First, she didn’t want to tell the Grounders the world was about to end again and was apparently okay with letting them burn, until Roan found out and got mad about it. She tried to become Commander, blatantly disrespecting Grounder culture just so she could boss all the people in the world around. “She wanted to help!” “She had no choice!” Yes, sure, she had no choice but lying to everyone and disrespecting a whole nation. She couldn’t, you know, talk about it. Okay. I mean, that’s how Clarke does things, right? Kill and deceive first, give a half-assed apology later. It has been working so far, there’s no reason for her to stop.

Forcing Luna to give them her bone marrow? Very problematic, but “Welcome to Mount Weather” was one of my favorite Raven quotes. Abby was also a fucking bitch for being alright with killing Emori but throwing a tantrum when Clarke finally came to her senses and decided to test Nightblood on herself instead of murdering people who went all the way there to help her, but that’s not what I’m focusing on.

Locking Murphy up while she attempted to kill Emori? Not good. Emori knew from the beginning she would be chosen for testing Nightblood — she is a Grounder, and Clarke’s disregard for Grounders has been made very clear before. (And no, having a Grounder girlfriend in a very unprofessional and non-diplomatic way does not excuse her from discriminating against Grounders.)

And then she took over the bunker, disrespecting Grounder culture once again by betraying the conclave and, well, many people. (I know Echo did it too, but I’m not talking about Echo right now so if someone brings this up I’m gonna riot.) I also think it’s funny how she was always talking about saving everyone and all that shit but was so fucking fast to leave Raven, Octavia, Monty, Harper and Kane to die. You know, the people who were supposed to be her friends and all that. Oh, well.

Then Octavia won. And she still did not open the bunker. Man, opening the bunker would save so many lives, including the life of her oh-so-called best friend’s sister, but she still didn’t do it. Classic Clarke God-complex: she decides who is worth saving, and the Grounders aren’t. Then there’s the whole thing with holding Bellamy at gunpoint and then using “but I didn’t shoot!” as an apology. Bitch, it isn’t about shooting, it is about the fact you looked your supposed best friend straight in the eyes and pointed a gun at him, threatening to kill him if he dared to try and save his sister and many others of certain death.

She sacrificed herself by the end of this season, great. I mean, yeah, that was nice of her. Congrats for doing a good thing for once, I guess, even though she knew she probably wouldn’t be able to get back in time anyway so the least she could do was making sure the others lived. I wish she had actually died then, it would’ve been a great end to her arc (finally saving her friends at the cost of her life after betraying them and leaving them to die repeatedly — damn, I might had even started to like her a bit after that) and I would be able to stand the worshipping of her done at the start of season 5, since she would be, yk, dead. Sadly, that did not happen.

She was a villain during season 5 just like Octavia and I wish she had been depicted that way. She wanted to kill Blodreina (because just overthrowing her wouldn’t do) but she wasn’t okay with letting Madi take the chip. I know these are different things, but see it like that: killing Octavia was a way of taking control of Wonkru at the expense of a life. Madi becoming Commander was a way to take control of Wonkru at the expense of Madi’s childhood. Are any of them good? Not really, but Commander Madi does not envolve killing someone and even has a nice ring to it. Besides, Madi had given consent to taking the chip.

(Another point: Octavia was actually thrown into a position of power, just like everyone claims Clarke was. Octavia was the conclave’s champion and was expected and even obligated to lead, while Clarke simply decided she was more competent than the others and became a self-proclaimed leader. After that, she whined for all seasons about how she didn’t want leadership. Octavia never did that, despite being the one who became a leader unwillingly. Just like Raven put, Octavia and Clarke are the same, but Octavia doesn’t pretend to feel bad for empathy points. Damn, I love Raven.)

She left Bellamy to die in the fighting pit, because now Madi is the one she cares about so fuck everyone else. She gave over Raven and Shaw and let them be tortured for nothing. She betrayed literally everyone and was the one to put McCreary in a position strong enough he had the power to literally destroy Earth. Clarke Griffin was directly responsible for Earth’s end.

And then she said “sorry, I had no choice” and most characters fucking forgave her. I hate the way this series throws Clarke’s half-assed apologies onto us and expect us to accept them. I think it is very annoying, since Clarke would be an awesome villain, but they insist in making her one of the good guys, even with the whole “there’s no good guys” theme, which I wholeheartedly believe to be just a way to justify why Clarke needs to be forgiven again and again and again. It is not much more than bad writing, to be honest.

During season 6 she again becomes a leader without being prompted to. I loved Josephine and I think that the fact Clarke wasn’t actually Clarke was the only reason I didn’t absolutely despised her like I have done for the previous seasons. Again, I would have loved it if she had actually died then. Imagine Josephine becoming a main character for season 7 too? Amazing, brilliant, showstopping, incredible.

And she is not even there for season 7, at least until “The Queen’s Gambit” lol. Guess they finally saw how much of an annoying character she is. The only thing I remember of her is the “I don’t believe in Karma” thing, which was... expected. I mean, someone who has done as much harm as she has can’t believe in Karma anyway or she wouldn’t be able to sleep at night, and Clarke’s whole thing is about pretending to be sorry but not actually trying to change, so we can’t have that.

In conclusion, Clarke Griffin fucking sucks. She is a bad person and the way everyone always forgives every bad thing she does is bad writing. The series tries to sell her as one of the characters on the “good” side, but she actively works against it. She is not even a GOOD villain to watch, like Murphy was for many seasons. She is just an annoying character with a God complex who fucks things up, betrays her friends and lets people die again and again and then is forgiven because she is supposed to be an admirable main character. She is selfish and abusive and manipulative and power-hungry and fucking sucks, so please don’t stan her.

And that’s on that! Nice.

(DISCLAIMER PART 2: this blog DOES NOT support Eliza Taylor and Bob Morley, specially after Arryn Zech’s accusations. I know we cannot be sure of anything, but I prefer to side with a potential liar than with a potential abuser.)