#but I have seen no real limit of just… very poor takes I’m afraid

[alarrylarrie]

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[fallinglikemagic]

Penny Polendina alludes to Astro Boy - and how this allusion foreshadows Penny’s eventual resurrection

Some of you may remember my first post in which I compared Penny and Astro Boy, with a specific focus on the version of Astro from the 2009 3D animated film (if not, you can read it here, but I'll be repeating everything stated there anyway). In the month or two since I first made that post, more and more parallels have start to pop up, with one of those parallels matching one of our most popular theories and foreshadowing Penny's upcoming resurrection.

In order to write this, I went through and watched the entire film, taking notes as I went. I'm not going to include every single detail that I noticed, only the things that seem the most relevant and can be put together in a single post in a comprehensive manner. Believe me when I say that I've thought about this a lot, and the sheer amount of parallels and connections (and the fact that I'm not the only one to notice these connections) has lead me to believe that this has been done intentionally. 

With that being said, I'm only going to focus on the Astro Boy film from 2009 - the Astro Boy franchise is massive, going back to the first manga coming out in 1952 with a few different adaptations and reboots with different versions of the story, and I just don't have the time to go through all of those. As such, I'm going to be focusing on the movie, due to the fact that it has the highest amount of parallels to both Penny specifically, and RWBY as a whole.

So, let's get into this.

Worldbuilding

Metro City and the Surface - Atlas and Mantle

One of the reasons I've decided to focus on the film in particular is due to the nature of the film's setting. Astro Boy (2009) takes place in two locations - Metro City, and the Surface.

According to the opening of the film, Metro City was created when the people who would become the founders of the city noticed the world changing for the worse, and responded by taking part of the land and lifting it into the sky, creating a floating city - the opening voiceover refers to it as "an oasis, a floating paradise". Everybody else is left behind on what is referred to as the Surface, left to fend for themselves while the people of Metro City largely ignore their existence.

The parallels to Atlas and Mantle are crystal clear. Atlas and Metro City are both set up as a beautiful city above the clouds, meant to serve as an inspiration for the rest of the world. In reality, it's a place where the rich and privileged can live in comfort while shunning the poor. Meanwhile, down in Mantle/on the Surface, people are suffering and struggling to get by. Additionally, both 'surface' and 'mantle' are words that are associated with the ground.

The Blue Core (and the Red Core) - Penny's soul and Maiden powers.

Another concept that is (as far as my research shows at least) unique to the film is the Blue Core and the Red Core.

The Blue Core is a small sphere that is filled with pure positive energy, referred to as Blue Core Energy. It was created by Dr. Elefun, made from the fragments of a star that no longer exists - meaning that the Blue Core is all that's left, and cannot be recreated. This is reminiscent of how Pietro has no more aura left to spare, and thus is unable to give any more of his soul to Penny like he did the first time she died. In this allusion, the Blue Core is representative of Penny's soul and the power of the Winter Maiden.

When the Blue Core was created, there was also a byproduct - the Red Core. Essentially, it's the same thing as the Blue Core, but with negative energy instead of positive. If the Blue Core and the Red Core make contact, they both die - this is relevant later.

You could compare the Red Core to Watts’ virus, due to the way that it causes a robot to have red eyes and that it coming into contact with the Blue Core destroys them both.

Character Parallels

Before I get into this properly, I wanna give a quick side note. While Astro matches up to Penny perfectly, things get a little bit messier with the others in that we have a case of characters taking on multiple roles. However, this is far from unheard of in RWBY - let's not forget about how Blake represents both Belle and the Beast, Yang is sometimes the Beast to Blake's Belle, and Adam is an amalgamation of every antagonistic force in Beauty and the Beast. It's far from uncommon for a character to allude to multiple characters from the same allusion, or vice versa, which is what we see with some of the characters in this allusion as well.

Astro - Penny Polendina

Unsurprisingly, Astro himself is our parallel to Penny.

After the death of his son Toby, Dr. Tenma rebuilds his son as a robot, using the Blue Core as his energy source. The Blue Core is stated to be unpredictable, and it's this that makes Astro who he is, what makes him unique from every other robot. As stated earlier, the Blue Core represents Penny's soul (and the Winter Maiden powers that are attached to it). When the Blue Core dies - and Astro dies with it - and Dr. Elefun is asked if he can be rebuilt, the answer is 'no' because the Core was unique and can't be remade - just like Penny's soul.

While Astro appears perfectly human on the surface, he's fitted with as much self-defence technology as Tenma could fit in him. The most iconic of these upgrades (and the only one that's consistent across every single version of Astro throughout the franchise) is the rocket boots. He even flies in a very similar way to Penny - pay attention to the posing, especially with the legs.

When Astro starts making friends with humans on the Surface, he conceals the fact that he's a robot, afraid of what they'll think of him when they learn he's not human. This matches up to Penny initially hiding the fact that she's not human, seeing herself as 'not a real girl'.

Astro has two father figures - Dr. Elefun and Dr. Tenma. Similarly, Penny has two father figures - Pietro and Ironwood.

During the climax of the film, Metro City starts to fall out of the sky and back down to the Surface. This is a parallel to two seperate moments in RWBY. The most obvious one is when Atlas is falling onto Mantle after the Staff of Creation is used. However, I think this scene more closely resembles the scene from Amity in which Amity Tower begins to fall.

When Astro sees that Metro City is falling, he immediately flies in to hold it up, despite the incredible strain it puts on him. This is a direct parallel to how Penny flew in to hold up Amity Tower.

Astro pushes himself to the limit when he holds up Metro City, to the point where the flames from his boots burn so brightly that they turn blue - oh hey, doesn't that look familiar?

Astro also demonstrates self-sacrificial tendencies at a few points in the film. When he's captured in order to have his Blue Core taken out and placed into another robot, he simply accepts it, saying that "I think maybe this is what's supposed to happen...this is my destiny". This becomes a lot more interesting when you remember that the Blue Core is representative of Penny's soul and Maiden powers. Astro giving himself up to President Stone (the film's main antagonist who later ends up in a sort of 'fusion' with the Red Core) so that Stone can use the Blue Core could be a reference to the virus making Penny want to give herself up to Ironwood so that he can use her soul to open the vault - especially if we believe that the Red Core is connected to the virus in some way.

Near the end of the film, in the fight against the fusion of President Stone and a giant robot containing the Red Core (it's a long story, I'll get to it later in the post), Astro makes the decision to sacrifice his own life in order to destroy both the Red Core and the Blue Core, saying “this is what I was created for” and saving the lives of everybody else in the process. I doubt I need to explain how "choosing to die in order to protect other people" relates back to Penny in Volume 8.

At the end of the film, and in the rest of the Astro Boy franchise as a whole, Astro takes it upon himself to be the protector of Metro City (and technically the Surface, but since Metro City has fallen, they're not exactly seperate locations anymore...). 'Robotic guardian of a city who's seen as a hero by the people' - you don't get much more obvious of a connection to the Protector of Mantle than that.

Additional details that may not be intentional but I still noticed anyway;

- Dr. Elefun describes as Astro by saying "That robot had more humanity than most of us". At this point, there's been many moments that affirm Penny's humanity - "You have an aura, Penny. A soul. That's who you are - our friend. Not a machine", "Her soul is who she is", the fact that she was able to receive the Maiden powers, all of these moments affirm that Penny has always been just as human as anybody else. This is also contrasted against Ironwood (and, for a while, Winter), who act more machine than human.

- Astro is actually rather heavily trans-coded. Penny is also trans-coded, but this is mostly likely a coincidence that happened as a result of the inherent transness of robots

- Elefun tells Astro that he's "not actually an entirely ordinary boy", which is reminiscent of Ruby describing Penny as "she's...not your typical girl."

- The shape of Penny's bow (the way that it sticks out more on one side while the other side is more vertical) looks similar to the shape of Astro's hair (this one was pointed out to me by @cosmokyrin​ when I mentioned this theory in the Frosen Steel server)

Dr. Elefun - Pietro Polendina

Dr. Elefun is one of Metro City's top scientists, and one of Astro's father figures. He is soft-spoken and gentle, a dreamer but a genius. In terms of personality alone, he's a pretty good match with Pietro. He's also the one who created the Blue Core, which draws a direct parallel to Pietro creating Penny's soul from part of his.

Dr. Elefun is the first person to truly see Astro as who he truly is. Dr. Tenma expects Astro to be a replacement for Toby, and is disappointed when he isn't. Similarly, everybody else sees Astro as a robot just like any other at first - an advanced robot, but nothing more than a robot. But Dr. Elefun gives him genuine praise, and encourages Astro to live his life and find his place in the world, just like how Pietro tells Penny that he wants to see her live her life.

It's also worth noting that in most other versions of Astro Boy, Elefun takes the role of Astro's primary caregiver after Dr. Tenma no longer wants him.

President Stone - James Ironwood

President Stone is the current political leader of Metro City. For the entire film, his entire focus is on combat and military strength, and on multiple occasions he actively expresses his intention to start a war with the Surface. He believes that the best way to get re-elected is with a show of military force and violence.

His primary goal throughout the film is to have Astro destroyed in order to retrieve the Blue Core and use it for his own gain. This is a direct parallel to Ironwood's goal in Volume 8 - to hunt down Penny and have her use her Maiden power to open the vault, and destroy herself.

Stone wants to use the Blue Core in order to power a specialised combat robot, ironically called the Peacekeeper. When Astro continues to escape his clutches, he decides to use the Red Core to power the Peacekeeper instead, but it doesn't completely go as planned. The Peacekeeper is equipped with what the film calls 'adaptive technology' - it's capable of absorbing anything it makes contact with into its own body.

And I do mean anything

After Stone is absorbed by the Peacekeeper, he's in full control of it - essentially the Peacekeeper is nothing more than a metal outer shell. President Stone has become a fusion of man and machine.

Dr. Tenma - both Pietro Polendina AND James Ironwood (a bit more Pietro than Ironwood but it's worth acknowledging both)

You might notice that while Elefun and Stone do have plenty of references to Pietro and Ironwood respectively, there are gaps where they don't cover every aspect of these characters and/or their dynamic with Penny. This is where Dr. Tenma comes in.

Dr. Tenma is Astro's dad, and the one who built him. He originally created Astro as a sort of 'replacement' for his biological son Toby after he died, giving Astro all of Toby's memories (more on this later). Naturally, this is a very clear connection to Pietro.

Additionally, Dr. Tenma uses the Blue Core - a completely unique, one-of-a-kind technological marvel - in order to power a single small robot that's intended to be nothing more than a replacement for his son, saying "I can't lose him again!". In this moment, Dr. Tenma is so focused on not losing his child that he doesn't acknowledge the big picture.

However, once Dr. Tenma realises that Astro isn't a perfect replica of Toby, but rather his own person, Tenma discards him, not caring if Astro gets destroyed or not. Similarly, when Penny stopped doing what Ironwood wanted her to do, Ironwood stopped caring about her as anything more than a container for the Maiden powers and is perfectly willing to let her die once the vault is opened.

Luckily, Dr. Tenma does have a change of heart, deciding that while Astro isn't Toby, he's still his son. Near the end of the film, Astro is very injured, and Dr. Tenma encourages him to get far away from the danger. However, Astro refuses to back down, instead choosing to sacrifice his life in order to stop President Stone, despite Dr. Tenma begging him not to go. Here, we have yet another parallel to this moment in Amity.

Bonus (aka characters that aren't perfect allusions, but connections do exist)

When Astro ends up on the Surface, he's taken in by a man who calls himself Hamegg. Hamegg ends up being a jerk, and while his personality and actions in the film don't particularly match up with any characters in RWBY, his backstory is a perfect match to Watts - a head scientist in Metro City who was shunned and fired for reasons unknown (Hamegg claims that they were 'intimated by his ideas and talent', but this was when he was trying to impress Astro and he lies a lot anyway, so this could be a complete lie).

On the Surface, Astro befriends four human kids (Cora, Zane, Sludge and Widget) and their robotic dog, Trashcan. While the personalities don't really match up (though Cora, Astro's closest friend, does bear a visual resemblance to Ruby), the idea of a 4-person group + a dog could be a parallel to Team RWBY and Zwei.

Zog is a very old, very large robot that had been 'dead' for several years until Astro found him and revived him by giving him some of his Blue Core Energy. Zog is our allusion to Winter - Astro giving Zog some of his Blue Core energy is a parallel to Penny giving Winter the Maiden powers. Additionally, in The Final Word, Winter explicitly calls herself a machine. While this does have significance on it's own, it could also be a nod to this allusion. That being said, the main connection between Winter and Zog (and possibly the most important part of this post) is based on events that have yet to happen in RWBY canon, and so I'm saving that part for the end of the post.

Story Parallels 

Toby's Death

Toby Tenma, Dr. Tenma's biological son, was very similar to Astro in terms of personality (with some key differences), as well as having a strong physical resemblance.

When the Blue Core and the Red Core were first being shown off to President Stone, Toby was accidentally locked behind a sealed off barrier, trapped with the Peacekeeper containing the Red Core. Toby was killed in a blast that completely disintegrated him, leaving nothing but a hat containing a single strand of hair.

This hair is important, because Dr. Tenma used this hair in order to extract Toby's DNA and memories, which he was then able to implant into Astro in order to make him resemble Toby.

This scene is most likely a parallel to Penny's first death in the Vytal Festival. In her first death, Penny's body was destroyed, but her core remained intact. Her core, which contained all of her memories, was the key piece in properly putting her back together without erasing who she used to be. The strand of hair containing Toby's DNA is representative of Penny's core containing her memories.

Additionally, there's the fact that when Toby was rebuilt as Astro, he was given various upgrades to allow him to better hold his own in a fight, with the most obvious behind the ability to fly via rocket boots. Penny received similar upgrades when she was rebuilt as well.

It's worth acknowledging that Toby's death could potentially parallel the moment that Ambrosius separated Penny from her robotic body, with the strand of hair instead being her soul, separated from her dying body and then disintegrating. However, due to the timeline and order of events, I think that Toby's death is more likely to be a parallel to Penny's first death, and her separation from her robot body is instead a parallel to the next scene I'm about to mention.

Momentary Death

When Astro is captured by President Stone and taken back to Metro City, Dr. Tenma actually does remove the Blue Core from his body, which does cause Astro to temporarily die.

Luckily, it only takes a few moments for Dr. Tenma to change his mind and return the Blue Core to Astro, reviving him.

Astro's 'soul' was removed from his body, causing that robotic body to die, even though in the end Astro does survive it. This is reminiscent of Ambrosius removing Penny's soul from her robotic body, letting that body die, while Penny survives.

Zog

I briefly went over Zog earlier, but I wanna go into more in-depth about him, because the parallels between Winter and Zog and the implications of said parallels are the main reason I ultimately decided to make this post.

As I said earlier, Zog is a very old, broken down robot that nobody has been able to revive in years. When Astro finds him, he brings him back to life by giving him some of his Blue Core Energy. Astro essentially gives Zog some of his lifeforce, a part of his soul.

Winter was on the verge of death at Ironwood's hands, but Penny was able to save her by giving her the Maiden powers, and her soul with them.

However, Zog doesn't keep all of the Blue Core Energy Astro gave him all to himself...

Resurrection

As I've mentioned a few times in this post, Astro does die - and I mean properly die, not a death that lasted 2 minutes at the most and had no consequences. Astro sacrifices himself and his Blue Core dies, all in attempts to protect the people of Metro City/the Surface and his friends. Dr. Elefun says that he can't be rebuilt because his Blue Core, his soul, was unique.

But then, Zog comes around. Zog, who is holding onto what is a part of Astro's soul - the only surviving part of Astro's soul. Zog returns some of the Blue Core Energy to Astro, which brings Astro back to life.

So, to recap: Astro gives a part of his lifeforce, part of his soul, to Zog. When Astro dies, Zog gives some of that soul back to Astro in order to revive him.

If you've been looking at the theories regarding Penny and Winter recently, this will sound VERY familiar. While the specifics vary, the essentials of the most popular theory is that Penny transferred her soul to Winter to hold on to along with the Maiden powers, and that somehow, Winter will return that soul to Penny in one way or another (either by putting her into another robotic body, or just somehow extracting her soul and letting it form it's own body again). The fact that this movie has these exact events occurring makes this seem more and more like the most likely route.

If Penny really is an intentional allusion to Astro Boy - which, based on the sheer length of this post, seems pretty damn likely - then the film practically spells it out for us. Winter will give part of her aura, the part that Penny gave her, in order to bring Penny back to life.

thank you for coming to my ted talk

[ultimatetrashyfanfic]

Non-despair AU! And ever since I watched that thirty minute anime clip with Nagito’s perspective on things, I’ve really liked the idea of him being buds with Kazuichi and Fuyuhiko. And Nagito openly talks about his past trauma on a plane so… what better way to bond than bonding over trauma? Anyway, I love these three so much. Also Komahina because I love them - Circle

(Also forgot to add this, sorry, but it’s on AO3 too) https://archiveofourown.org/works/33483538

Warning: descriptions of panic attacks, nausea, motion sickness, very mild vomiting (like barely any).

Fuyuhiko always thought Nagito was spouting a whole load of bullshit when he lamented about his talent being useless; he would’ve loved having Ultimate Luck right now.

“Haha! You got the short straw, Fuyuhiko!” Akane crowed. “Tough luck!”

“Wait, no! Can’t we do a best of three?”

“Somebody has to sit with them, man,” Nekomaru said. “You guys are already friends, it’ll be a great bonding experience.”

“I don’t want to bond with them in that situation. Because you all know it’ll be a shit show. That’s why we’re fucking doing this,” Fuyuhiko growled, glaring at each of his classmates in turn. Only two were missing, the pair who’d triggered this whole unfortunate drawing of straws in the first place.

“Why can’t you sit with them, Hajime? Nagito is always hanging off you anyway. And Kazuichi is your friend too,” Fuyuhiko said.

“I’m afraid I can’t, Fuyuhiko.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because I didn’t draw the short straw.”

“Go fuck yourself.” Fuyuhiko stomped away, his classmates’ laughter echoing behind him. This class trip was already more trouble than it was worth and it hadn’t even started. He was almost tempted to skip the plane journey with the rest of them and hop on a different flight to Novoselic, just to show them. It wasn’t like he needed Sonia to pay his way. But she’d been so enthusiastic about taking her friends to see her home country, and Fuyuhiko couldn’t think of any way to tell her without causing offence. He couldn’t really say he just didn’t want to be stuck babysitting Kazuichi and Nagito on a flight.

It wasn’t that Fuyuhiko didn’t like Kazuichi and Nagito. Sure, Kazuichi could be a real pain in the ass sometimes, and Nagito would go all weird and self-deprecating if you didn’t watch out, but Fuyuhiko still considered them close friends. But the flight to Novoselic was long. Kazuichi could get motion sickness on a fucking bicycle, and Nagito hadn’t set foot on a plane since his parents died on one right in front of his eyes. There was no way it could possibly go well. Fuyuhiko pictured hour after hour of Kazuichi puking and complaining and Nagito… well, he wasn’t sure what the hell Nagito would do. He’d never seen Nagito get flustered before. Hell, that was much more terrifying. He had to get out of this.

In the days before the trip, Fuyuhiko kept trying to convince his kinder classmates to take responsibility for at least one of the other men. “It’s gonna be impossible to help them both,” Fuyuhiko said. “It’ll be better for them if you help me.”

“You could sit between them,” Mahiru said. “And I’ve already promised Hiyoko I’ll sit with her. Sorry.”

Asking Twogami was a no-go too. “It’ll be more considerate to the other passengers if they’re both in one area,” he said. “To limit the disturbance if they become distressed.”

“I’m the one who’ll be feeling fucking distressed,” Fuyuhiko snapped.

Peko overheard, and came over at once. “I’ll take your burden, young master.”

“No, not you!” Fuyuhiko hated the whine in his tone - and he hated the smirk on Twogami’s face too. “You don’t have to do it. You sit with Gundham and pet his hamsters or something. I… I want you to be happy,” he mumbled, blushing fiercely.

Damn it. He could be as bad as Kazuichi sometimes.

There was no way to wriggle out of it. The morning of the trip dawned bright and sunny, and Fuyuhiko’s ticket set him directly between Kazuichi and Nagito. Fantastic.

At least check-in and security went by reasonably peacefully, the walk to their gate quiet. Only Akane and Nekomaru seemed to be properly awake this early in the day, and they stuck with each other. Fuyuhiko glanced at his two friends. Kazuichi still seemed half-asleep, curled on one of the uncomfortable chairs by the gate, watching the planes take off and land in the distance through the huge windows. Nagito was much more concerning. He was smiling brightly… but he didn’t look happy at all.

“Hey, Fuyuhiko, want to know how a plane engine works?” Kazuichi asked.

“No,” he said, but he sat down with a sigh as Kazuichi started talking anyway. He tuned out after a second, though Nagito looked like he was listening.

“Seeing you talk about your ultimate talent is so inspiring, Kazuichi,” Nagito said - and smiled. That weird smile again, desperate and strained.

“It’s nothing. I just think planes are interesting. From an engineering point of view. I really wish I didn’t have to fucking ride one,” Kazuichi groaned.

“Aha, I can’t help feeling apprehensive too. The last time I was on a flight, both my parents died.” Nagito spoke emotionlessly, as if reciting a shopping list, but that smile was still fixed on his face. “But it’s okay. That bad luck brought me a lot of good luck later on. You just have to have hope that things will work out.”

Kazuichi stared at him, mouth open. “Um. Okay. Sorry.” He caught Fuyuhiko’s eye and mouthed what the fuck? Fuyuhiko wasn’t sure if Kazuichi was just now hearing the story or if he was confused by Nagito’s weird behaviour. He shrugged helplessly.

There wasn’t much conversation after that. You couldn’t really carry on your casual chit-chat right after somebody brought up their dead parents. Fuyuhiko kept an eye on Nagito. He was bolt upright in his seat, his eyes staring straight ahead, hands clasped so tight in his lap his knuckles bleached white. With his pale hair and ashen face, he looked like all the blood had drained out of him completely.

Their flight number was called far too soon, and Fuyuhiko dragged his motley crew to the right aisle, pondering where to put everyone. Kazuichi should probably be on the end if he’d be passing vomit bags to some poor stewardess. Fuyuhiko needed to be in the middle, so that left Nagito by the window. He’d have to keep the shutter pulled down.

Hajime passed them on the way to his own seat, and stopped short when he saw Nagito’s face. He leaned right over Kazuichi and Fuyuhiko, ignoring their complaints and curses, and took Nagito’s hand. “Are you alright? You look… off.”

“Don’t worry about me, Hajime.”

“Your hands are clammy.”

“Ah, I’m sorry. How disgusting for you,” Nagito said, smiling. Always smiling.

“That’s not what I meant… Look, do you want to sit with me?”

“Can we move it along please?” somebody called irritably down the aisle.

“You’re holding up the line, Hajime. Don’t worry about me,” Nagito repeated. Hajime looked like he was worrying dreadfully, but he was forced to move along. Nagito clasped his hands again and fixed his gaze on the seat in front, smiling smiling smiling. It was freaking Fuyuhiko out. He looked like he was wearing a mask and his eyes were the only real part of him, swirling with turmoil.

“Hey.” Kazuichi nudged Fuyuhiko’s shoulder and whispered in his ear. “Are Hajime and Nagito… you know. A thing?”

“Mate, you told me you’ve seen them leave Hajime’s cabin together in the mornings.”

“They could just be having a sleepover. As bros.”

“I don’t think it’s that, Kazuichi.”

“Are you sure? ‘Cause I don’t want Hajime to get a new best friend,” Kazuichi said.

Fuyuhiko sighed. “I think you’re safe.”

There was a pause. Then another shoulder nudge a second later. “So Hajime and Nagito? Seriously? Am I the only person on my own in this class?” Kazuichi muttered.

Fuyuhiko was spared from responding by the flight attendants starting the safety briefing, demonstrating how to use the oxygen masks and the life jackets in case of emergency. He had to admit, it was pretty eerie to think that you could, however unlikely it may be, crash into the ocean or need extra oxygen to live long enough to get to land. He glanced over at Nagito nervously. His arms were now curled across his chest, hands gripping his elbows. His head was bent, a cloud of puffy hair hiding his face. Maybe that was for the best.

“Can you try not to puke as long as possible?” Fuyuhiko whispered to Kazuichi. “I feel like I might have a situation to deal with.”

“I’m never trying to puke,” Kazuichi said, but he seemed worried too, glancing past Fuyuhiko. “Hey, Nagito, you doing alright?”

“Don’t worry about me, Kazuichi,” Nagito said, eerily calmly.

“That’s not the same thing as saying you’re fine, is it?” Kazuichi whispered to Fuyuhiko.

“He’s clearly not fucking fine,” Fuyuhiko snapped.

“Should I ask Hajime to swap?” Kazuichi asked.

Fuyuhiko nodded, but before Kazuichi could even undo his seatbelt, the plane jerked and started reversing out of the gate. Fuyuhiko heard Nagito draw in his breath sharply - then he was the one fumbling for his seatbelt, standing unsteadily.

“What the fuck are you doing, man?” Fuyuhiko yelled, catching onto the back of Nagito’s coat as he tried to clamber over the seats. “Sit down!”

“I’m afraid I need to get off,” Nagito said, voice still calm despite his frantic movements.

“It’s already moving, for God’s sake! Sit down before a flight attendant sees you!” It wasn’t hard to force Nagito back into his seat - he seemed light enough for a strong gust of wind to knock him over - and Souda hastily got the belt fastened again just as the plane rolled onto the runway.

“Okay. It’s fine. You’re fine,” Fuyuhiko gabbled, trying hard not to shout or swear or scream at all his classmates for making him deal with this. “Just sit still and… I dunno, plug your ears. The takeoff part is the worst.”

There was a cacophony of whirring as the engines roared to life and Fuyuhiko would be very grateful for all that noise in a second, because Nagito started to laugh. Dry, hysterical laughter, his eyes over-bright and manic, lips bared in that grisly parody of a smile.

“Has he lost his fucking mind?” Kazuichi asked, sounding genuinely frightened.

“You must really hate me, Fuyuhiko,” Nagito gasped. “To restrain me here… You must despise me.”

“I’m not restraining you!”

“Then let me off.” He locked eyes with Fuyuhiko and for a second the manic grin faded. “Please…”

The engines roared to a crescendo and the plane shot forward so quickly everyone was pinned to their seats with the force, zooming on and on until they could feel the entire structure lurch into the air. Kazuichi groaned softly, shutting his eyes, but Fuyuhiko was far more focused on Nagito. He had his eyes squeezed shut too, but his hand clamped hard onto Fuyuhiko’s arm. Really fucking hard. Shit, maybe Nagito wasn’t as weak as he looked. Fuyuhiko cursed as his terrified companion started digging his nails into his skin, actually drawing blood. The pain prompted Fuyuhiko to try prying the hand loose a little, but Nagito clamped on harder, carving several new scratches. Fuyuhiko didn’t dare attempt again; he’d get his arm cut to ribbons.

When the plane was flying high and the swirling, disoriented feeling had eased, Fuyuhiko checked on both men. Kazuichi had his head in his hands, but he gave a shaky thumbs up when Fuyuhiko prodded him.

“‘M okay,” he mumbled. “Got through takeoff. Gets better when it’s levelling out.”

“Right, good. Try to stay that way, yeah? I’ve got a lot to handle right now,” Fuyuhiko sighed. Nagito was still shredding his arm up, but he could feel one finger tapping for attention.

“What? What do you need? Please, no bullshit, Nagito. I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to do,” Fuyuhiko said. He was practically yelling in his panic, and the people across the aisle turned to glare.

It was several seconds before Nagito could gather enough breath to speak. Fuyuhiko saw that awful smile stretch across his face again, like somebody had twisted his frown the wrong way round. “Aha, I’m sorry to trouble you, Fuyuhiko, but I think I might be having a panic attack.”

“What?” Fuyuhiko felt like he was going to have a panic attack too. “Why? What’s going on?”

“I can’t seem to catch my breath. And the cabin has been spinning for several minutes.”

“Jesus Christ! Why didn’t you say anything?” Fuyuhiko hurriedly pushed Nagito’s head down as far as it would go before it bumped the seat in front. “Fucking… think of things you can see or something? Shit, I don’t remember.”

“Five things you can see,” Kazuichi chimed in. “Is he really gonna pass out? Hajime is gonna kill us.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill him for leaving this shit to us! How stupid can you get?”

“Ahh, I’m such a nuisance. If I’d known I’d react in such a shameful way, I’d have been sure to take a seat away from all the Ultimates. Why are you taking care of someone like me?”

“Nagito, shut up, this isn’t your fault,” Fuyuhiko said shortly. “Stop babbling on about ultimates and do the panic attack thing. Listen to Kazuichi, he knows how to do it.”

Nagito did as he was told, working through the grounding techniques with Kazuichi while Fuyuhiko held onto his shoulders feeling helpless. Nagito was shaking so hard it was difficult not to drop him altogether. He didn’t pass out, but even after the grounding Nagito looked far from what you’d consider calm. He was grey-white when Fuyuhiko carefully hauled him back upright.

“Are you okay..?”

The smile came back, though it seemed a lot more tired than manic this time. “Ah… I don’t think so, Fuyuhiko.”

“Well. At least you’re honest. Can you tell me how you’re feeling? Physically, I mean. Clearly I see you’re fucked mentally. And please stop smiling like that, you’re creeping me out,” Fuyuhiko said.

Nagito finally released his grip on Fuyuhiko’s arm, his nails coated with blood. He bent forward slowly, carefully, like he was terrified any sudden movements would send him spiralling again, and let his elbows rest on his knees. “I still feel slightly lightheaded. And nauseous. I’d still like to get off.”

Fuyuhiko examined the long scratches on his arm, sighing and mopping the blood with his sleeve. “Well, you’d have a long drop if you tried to get off now. You should cut your damn fingernails too. I’m going to get Hajime.” He turned to Kazuichi. “Watch him for a minute, okay? I don’t fucking care about drawing the short straw anymore, I can’t handle this.” Fuyuhiko scrambled over Kazuichi’s lap into the aisle, ignoring the flight attendant yelling for him to remain in his seat until the seatbelt signs went off.

“Hey! What did you mean drawing the short straw?” Kazuichi called behind him. Fuyuhiko didn’t look back.

“Hajime!” Fuyuhiko yelled when he was still more than six aisles away from the startled man. “You’re swapping with me!” He lowered his voice when he reached Hajime’s seat, but only marginally. “I can’t handle this. I don’t know how you expected Komeada to react to this shit, but whatever you thought, it’s worse. Way fucking worse. And I can’t help him. So go fucking do it yourself.”

“Well, I was going to swap as soon as the seatbelt signs were off,” Hajime said pointedly.

“I don’t give a shit. Look at my arm! Your fucking boyfriend nearly ripped it off at the elbow.” Fuyuhiko brandished his scratched, bloodied arm, and Hajime looked genuinely shocked.

“Oh my God…” He stood up hastily, clinging to the seats in front as the plane was still slightly off-balance. “I’m sorry, Fuyuhiko. I didn’t expect him to panic so much. He never said anything much about it when I asked.”

“Yeah, well, no offence, Hajime, but you can be as thick as three short planks sometimes. So if he implied anything, I don’t doubt you missed it,” Fuyuhiko snapped, taking Hajime’s empty seat - next to Chiaki, thank goodness. She hadn’t even looked up from her Switch this whole time. Perfect.

“I have taken some offence…” Hajime mumbled, then turned to go back down the aisle, trying hard not to catch the eyes of the other passengers staring like they were all part of a circus act. He was pretty sure the whole class was going to get banned from this airline. Gundham had been in trouble already for taking his hamsters out of their little travelling cage - several times. He was insulted by the insistence of the staff that all pets had to be contained, both by their labelling of his hamsters as mere pets and from their implication that his dark devas could ever be contained.

Hajime followed the sounds of more disgruntled passengers to Nagito’s seat. He was in the middle now, hunched over one of those white sick bags, while Kazuichi awkwardly patted his back. He looked relieved to see Hajime, beckoning frantically. “Come help me! I think he’s gonna spew. Weird that it’s not me for once.”

Hajime sighed, struggling to shuffle past his friends to get to Nagito’s other side, squashed by the window. Nagito didn’t acknowledge him. Hajime could see he had his eyes closed, his face strangely calm and smooth, though his breathing was erratic.

“Hey, Nagito? You hearing me?” Hajime called, tapping the other man’s pale cheek.

“Did I drive Fuyuhiko away?” Nagito said, voice strained. “I’m not surprised. To bother the Ultimates with the problems of an insignificant nobody like me.”

“Dude, shut up,” Kazuichi groaned. “Nobody thinks that. Stop being so weird. Fuyuhiko just doesn’t know how to look after people.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to sit up? I doubt you’ll throw up, you wouldn’t eat anything this morning,” Hajime said.

At that exact moment, almost as if to pointedly prove him wrong, Nagito made a choked retching sound and ducked his head down further, cringing.

“Oookay. Or not. Um. You’re okay,” Hajime muttered, placing a wary hand on Nagito’s hair to keep it out of the way. It was strange hair; soft yet thick at the same time, and it poofed up determinedly no matter how many times Ibuki tried him out with different hairstyles.

The seatbelt signs were now off, so Kazuichi stood up hastily, trying to shield Nagito from the people hurrying up the aisle to the bathrooms. Hajime was grateful, but part of him wished he could switch places with Souda. He didn’t think he’d be having to coach Nagito through something so strangely intimate so soon into their… relationship? They’d never come out and actually said they were boyfriends, not even to each other, but their classmates seemed to think they were a couple.

As Nagito really hadn’t eaten much of anything all day, the actual vomiting didn’t last too long, but the dry heaving continued for several agonising minutes, and the nausea remained indefinitely. But Nagito felt safe to lift him head, his pale cheeks dusted with pink. He smiled shakily at Hajime. “How embarrassing. I caused a scene in front of all these people. You must be lamenting the day you set eyes on me.”

“Stop,” Hajime sighed, taking the soiled bag and handing it to Kazuichi.

“Hajime!” Souda squealed, hastily handing it off to a flight attendant, who offered a bottle of water for Nagito in response. Her smile didn’t slip once. Hajime was impressed by her poker face.

“Drink,” Hajime prompted, forcing the bottle into Nagito’s hands. “I want you to try eating something later too. You’re going to pass out.”

Kazuichi sat down again, glancing at Nagito. “You feeling… okay now? Like as okay as you can?”

Nagito took a long drink of water, eyes blank. Then he smiled again, that strange, forced smile. “I really am pathetic, aren’t I? Causing such a dramatic spectacle over something that happened years ago. I don’t deserve such attention from the Ultim-“

“Stop!” Hajime took Nagito’s face in his hands, forcing him to meet his eyes. Hajime thought he saw something flicker in them, some semblance of an honest emotion. “Nagito, can you please stop trying to act like you don’t have feelings. I know you’re scared. And you know what? It’s okay. It’s completely fucking normal to feel like this right now. I shouldn’t have left you. That was me being dense, and I’m sorry. But you can stop pretending. It’s just me here - and Kazuichi, but he’ll understand too. He’s scared of everything.”

“I am not!” Kazuichi cried, outraged.

Hajime didn’t break eye contact with Nagito, both breathing heavily. Nagito glared back at first, his face twisting into a scowl, but Hajime didn’t falter.

“Let me in,” Hajime muttered. “I know you, for God’s sake. You’re not gonna scare me off. It’s okay to need help. Please.”

Another silence for several long, tense seconds. Then - finally, amazingly - Nagito made a soft frustrated noise, lunged forwards and wound his arms around Hajime’s neck so tightly that for a second Hajime thought he’d messed up so badly Nagito was trying to throttle him.

“Hey, careful,” Hajime said, but his voice was gentle and he didn’t try to pry Nagito off. Nagito let his forehead rest on Hajime’s shoulder, his hair falling to shield his face completely. Hajime snaked his own arms awkwardly around Nagito’s slender waist. He could feel Nagito shaking, feel the warm puff of his breathing against his shoulder. The shaking never eased, but as time passed the breathing seemed to calm slightly.

Nagito didn’t speak as he clung to Hajime for dear life. Not a single word. But Hajime hadn’t really expected him to. This was already a degree of vulnerability that Nagito was completely unaccustomed to showing anyone, let alone his almost-boyfriend, his classmates and an entire plane full of strangers. It was a good place to start.

Kazuichi watched them slightly bitterly. “It’s alright for some. I wouldn’t mind someone to cuddle up to,” he muttered.

“That’s your other talent. Ultimate Third Wheel,” Hajime quipped.

Their row of seats was reasonably peaceful after that, though Hajime could hear the laughter and yelling from their classmates further back. He hoped the sensible members of the group could stop them causing too much trouble. Hajime couldn’t go tell them to knock it off himself; whenever he moved at all Nagito would tighten his grip.

He sat there, hour after hour, until he had to pry Nagito off him for a bathroom break. It wasn’t easy. Nagito fought him and clung on as much as he could, though Hajime explained he’d be back in five minutes.

“Look, cling onto Kazuichi while I go pee,” Hajime suggested. Kazuichi didn’t look overly enthusiastic about that idea, but he didn’t protest.

Nagito sighed. He slowly drew back his arms, and whispered three breathy little words into Hajime’s shirt before he went, perhaps the most raw, vulnerable words Hajime had ever heard Nagito say: “Please come back.”

“I will. Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured.

Nagito shifted shakily in his seat, turned to Kazuichi and lunged at him too, wrapping his arms around his neck. Kazuichi squealed and whined that he was being strangled, but he didn’t shove Nagito away. Hajime almost felt like they were new parents, passing their newborn between them: “I’ll hold him for a bit, you go to the loo.”

There was a queue for the tiny airplane bathrooms. Hajime stood impatiently, wriggling his cramped shoulders and rocking back on his heels; he was glad Nagito seemed to be trusting him more, but he was pretty stiff after sitting in the same position for hours.

Two women ahead of Hajime in the queue seemed to be having an animated discussion about something, and when Hajime caught the word “school” he started to listen properly.

“I don’t know what sort of school they come from, but they’re a strange bunch,” one lady hissed. “There’s an odd boy in the row ahead of me, one of that lot, who has a collections of rodents, all free from their cage! Running all over the seat trays! Well, that’s not very hygienic, is it? But when I told him as much, he gave me the most incredibly rude answer.”

“Young people have such foul mouths these days,” the other lady agreed.

“No, he wasn’t swearing. It was ever so strange, almost as if he was… well, you’ll think I sound silly. But it was like he was cursing me.”

It was a good job for Hajime that the toilet became available and the lady rushed inside, because he was biting his cheeks to contain his laughter. When he’d used the loo himself and gone back to release Kazuichi from Nagito’s vice grip, he recited the story for both of them.

Kazuichi laughed, poking Nagito gently. “There you are, Nagito. No need to worry. No matter how weird we are, we can always count on Gundham to be weirder.”

Nagito didn’t respond, but Hajime saw a hint of a smile - a real smile - on his lips before he buried his face in Hajime’s neck again.

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Fresh Starts

Leah (Stardew) x Selectively Mute She/Her Reader

A/N: Thought I’d try something different with this one. Sorry if I didn’t detail the instances of sign language very well, or if they are a little off, I did try. Also Kel is an asshol in this when they show up so get ready for that. Robin is cool mom and Abigail is the friend who is always ready to fight at the drop of a hat. Also, time is so weird in Stardew? There are four season in a year but each season is like a month so a year is like four months. Time is scary. I hope you like it! Word Count: 8,943

~

“So, someone has finally taken up that old farmland,” Leah heard Gus say to Harvey as he fixed the good doctor a drink at the bar, “‘Heard Lewis and Robin talking about it outside of Pierre’s yesterday.”

“Is that so?” Harvey was tired from a long day at the clinic, but being ever polite, he humored Gus and rested fully against the bar stool.

“Mhmm, looks like the old man’s kin is finally gonna make something of it. A few years late though I must say, that place is well overgrown. It’s gonna take a lot more than a little elbow grease to spruce up that dump,” Gus chuckled good naturedly and handed Harvey his beer, “I wish them luck, whoever they are.”

“Bah!” Leah jumped in her seat tucked away in the corner. Pam must have been listening in too. “If they’re smart they’ll just sell the heap of trash to Joja. M’sure they’d get a pretty penny for it.” Pam spoke bitterly. Shane, who was also quite drunk at this point in the night, took the opportunity to add his two cents in and yell across the bar.

“Why would they get your daughter for selling out to Joja?”

“That’s not what I meant, dumbass!” Pam roared back, slamming her beer on the table with a loud thump.

Leah decided she’d call it a night then. Without Elliott to crack jokes with, the saloon could get real depressing real fast with Shane and Pam racing each other to see who would get alcohol poisoning first. Even Clint was just sad to watch. The poor man sitting hopefully, waiting for Emily to even just turn in his direction. Leah finished the rest of her beer and paid Gus, giving the man a sympathetic smile as he left to cut Shane off.

Leah shivered in the cool spring breeze as she walked along the river bank to her cottage and her thoughts wandered back to what Gus had been gossiping about.

“A new face around Stardew Valley, hm?” Leah mused, kicking a stray pebble in her path, watching it skip across the cobbled stone. “I guess I won’t be the town newbie anymore.” She smiled and turned to look in the direction of Marnie’s home, knowing that the farm was somewhere just beyond. As Leah turned the key to unlock the door of her small cottage, she wondered what changes this new resident might bring.

***

“Have you met our new resident farmer yet?” Leah heard Caroline ask Jodi as she walked across the town square.

“I suppose you could call it that,” Jodi laughed, “It was a very brief meeting to say the least.”

“I’m glad I wasn’t the only one then,” Caroline sighed, putting a hand to her chest in relief, “I thought I had offended the girl somehow, she never said a word. She just walked into the shop and pointed to a few seeds she wanted to buy, then she handed Abigail, Pierre and I daffodils and went on her way. Not so much as a sound.” Caroline explained, still bewildered by the interaction.

“Sounds about right,” Jodi nodded, “She knocked on the front door and handed me a single clam. Which was nice I suppose, but so very odd. She gave Vincent a daffodil too,” Jodi smiled, “He was very pleased. I’m sure she would have given Sam something as well if he could wake up at a more reasonable time.”

“Oh, Leah! Good morning!” Caroline had caught her. Leah put on her most sociable smile and walked forward, greeting the two women.

“Good morning Caroline, Jodi.”

“Have you been visited by the farm fairy yet?” Jodi asked, chuckling along with Caroline.

“I’m afraid not.” Leah admitted. “Although Elliott says I am a bit difficult to track down at the best of times.” She laughed good naturedly.

“Well, I’m sure she’ll get you sooner or later. She seems to be on a mission to greet the whole town. If you can call it a greeting I suppose. I don’t even know her name.” Caroline realized.

“It’s (Y/n).”

The three women jumped and turned to a grinning Robin, walking up to them with her yoga mat swaddled under her arm.

“Her name is (Y/n). She’s quite the character, huh?”

“Robin, you helped Mayor Lewis move her in didn’t you? What can you tell us?” Jodi asked, looking for any crumb of information she could get on the mysterious girl.

“Not much to tell,” Robin shrugged, “Just a sweet kid wanting to get away from the pressures of the big city,” she sent a knowing look at Leah, “Sounds like someone else I know.”

Leah laughed politely, twisting a finger around the tail end of her braid as blush settled in her cheeks faintly.

“But why is she so... you know, quiet?” Caroline asked.

“Hm, well, she did give me her blessing to explain should it come up.” Robin took a moment to think of how to proceed, absently tapping her fingers against her mat. “(Y/n) is selectively mute. She has the ability to speak, but she’s just not comfortable enough to do so at this time. This move was a big decision for her, and she’s excited, but it’s just gonna take some time before she feels secure enough to communicate orally.”

“And how did you get all this information out of her?” Caroline wondered.

Robin secured her yoga mat between her thighs and presented both hands, pointing her index fingers outward and drew a couple large circles in the air with the tips of her extended fingers. “Sign language!” Robin grinned, before taking a hold of her mat once more.

“Oh how clever!” Jodi praised. “I wish I understood sign language.”

“I’d be happy to show you a few of the basics sometime. If you really need to ask (Y/n) something though she will have no problem writing out answers for you.” Robin informed. “Now, are we working out today or...”

“I completely forgot!” Caroline smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand, “Yes, let’s go. Poor Marnie is probably wondering where we are. Are you going to join us Leah?”

“I’ll pass, thanks. I’m heading to the beach to do some painting,” Leah explained, motioning to her bag.

“Alright, see you around!” Caroline, Jodi and Robin bid Leah goodbye and hurried to the general store.

Leah sighed, as much as she liked the people in this town they were so chatty. She could have been at the beach forever ago! Once she arrived, she saw Haley sunbathing. Not unusual, but as she kept walking closer to shore she saw Elliott splayed out over the sand laying on his stomach.

Leah rolled her eyes and walked over, playfully kicking the man’s arm, causing him to squint up at her.

“Is there some kind of new writing exercise I should know about?” She asked, playfully.

“I wish, this is simply writer’s block at its finest.” Elliott groaned. “That, and I don’t know what I’m going to do with this,” he sat up and produced a wild horseradish from his jacket pocket.

“Why do you have a horseradish in your pocket?”

“A girl I’ve never seen before in my life gave it to me. Then she took off before I could refuse. Didn’t even say a word.”

“She’s totally weird, but she did give me a daffodil so I guess she’s not that bad.” Haley called from her own spot in the sand.

“Has everyone met the new girl except me?” Leah wondered aloud.

“She’s been making rounds. I’m sure she’ll find you eventually.” Elliott said, resting his chin over his arms.

“You make her sound so ominous.” Leah laughed, lowering herself to the sand and taking out a sketch pad.

“A silent specter. A harbinger of-“

“Oh can it, drama queen,” Leah smirked, “so she gave you a horseradish, it’s not the end of the world. She was just trying to be nice.”

Elliott pursed his lips, propping his head up with one hand he turned the horseradish in the other offering it to Leah. “Do you want it? You’re all about foraging.”

“I mean, if you’re not going to use it sure. Put it in my bag.” Leah relented easily. Her eyes only leaving her paper to study the horizon for a moment, then continue to sketch.

Leah stayed on the beach with Elliott for a couple of hours, talking  sketching, and painting. Finally she stood and stretched, patting the sand off the back of her jeans. “I should get going. See you around.”

“See you.” Elliott nodded, splitting off from Leah to head over to his shack.

Leah hummed to herself as she walked through town, making her way past Jodi’s house and entered the Cindersnap Forest. As she rounded the corner of her cottage, she paused in her tracks. Observing a young woman staring at her door with dandelions in one hand and her other poised to knock on the weathered wood.

Leah flinched slightly, she had stepped on a twig, snapping it and alerting her visitor of her presence.

Startled eyes met Leah’s own and the farmer straightened from her previous position, stepping back from Leah’s door.

She smiled shyly, giving Leah a short, jaunty wave before gesturing between Leah and the cottage a moment. Then she stood still. An expectant look on her face.

Leah simply stared back, blinking before she registered the silent question. “Oh! Yes, I live here. That’s my house. You’re (Y/n), right? Robin told me about you, I’m Leah.” She smiled kindly, coming forward to offer (Y/n) her hand to shake.

Instead of grasping Leah’s hand, (Y/n) cupped it with her gloved hands, turning Leah’s hand palm up and placing the dandelions inside.

“Ah, thank you.” Leah chuckled, “These will make a great salad.”

(Y/n) nodded vigorously, then moved to make her exit. Leah wasn’t sure what possessed her, but she called out to (Y/n) before she could get too far.

“Wait, I um, it’s not much but I did take an intro to ASL course my freshman year of college so, I’m a bit limited but if you ever want to talk, you know...” Leah wished she could stop talking right now. Why had no one told her that the farmer was cute!? “So, yeah, you know,” Leah fumbled with her free hand, her fingers sat just underneath her chin before she sent them forward, “Thanks again.” She smiled nervously.

(Y/n) stared at her, dumbfounded. Then she released a short, sharp exhalation of air that was reminiscent of stuttered laughter and turned back to stand before Leah. (Y/n) made a timid approach and gingerly took Leah’s wrist, still hovering midair, and guided the hand back to rest on Leah’s chin, just below her lip. Leah stood still as stone as (Y/n) held it there for a second then extended the hand forward. She repeated the motion twice more before backing away and releasing Leah from her gloved grasp. The smell of earth and grass still clung to Leah’s nose even after (Y/n) had stepped back.

“Oh, I did it wrong, didn’t I?” Leah blushed, “Is there a big difference between the two?”

(Y/n) blew out a large breath of air and nodded. One of her gloved hands came up to cover the amused smile fighting against her lips.

“What did I say? Was is embarrassing? Yoba, I need to know,” Leah carefully set the dandelions at her feet and rummaged through her bag. Taking out her sketch pad and a pencil, she flipped to a clean page and presented the materials into the rough fabric of (Y/n)’s gloved hands, “Please, tell me.”

(Y/n) shot Leah a sympathetic smile, then she looked down at the paper and wrote quickly and concisely. She looked over her work, nodded to herself, then she handed the sketch book and pencil back to Leah before jogging of in the direction of her farm.

“Eh- Hey! Wait a minute!” Leah took a few strides after the farmer but quickly gave up, electing to look at the paper in her hand instead. “Maybe I’ll tell you some other time. Nice meeting you Leah, smiley face.” Leah read aloud to herself. She scoffed, but couldn’t stop the smile that had conquered her lips. She couldn’t wait to see (Y/n) again.

***

“Hey, Maru-“

“I think I have a feeling about what this is about, but just in case, please proceed.”

The next morning, Leah had made her way to the clinic to visit Maru and perhaps get the answers she was looking for. She had made the trek to (Y/n)’s farm first, but she wasn’t there. A little note hastily taped to the farmer’s door revealed that she was spending the day fishing in the mountains and wouldn’t be back until late at night.

“Maru, you know sign language like your mom, right?” Leah asked.

“Sure do. Seb and dad do too.” Maru nodded, leaning over the clinic counter. “But I’ve got to tell you that if you’re looking for the meaning of what you accidentally signed to (Y/n) last night, we were sworn to silence earlier this morning before (Y/n) went fishing. Sorry.” Maru smiled.

“Ugh,” Leah sighed, leaning her forehead against the counter. “Can I at least have a hint?”

“Well, it’s really funny. Especially considering how chill you normally are and your kind disposition.”

“Yoba, I really need to know!” Leah groaned against the counter.

“Well my family can’t tell you. You’ll just have to wait to hear it from (Y/n),” Maru grinned and pushed away from the counter, “I have to prepare for Evelyn’s check up now so I’ll see you around Leah.”

“Yeah, bye.” Leah grumbled, watching Maru disappear into the back offices. “Well, there goes that plan.” She mumbled under her breath as she left the clinic.

Leah spent the rest of the day sculpting in her cottage. She spent hours getting lost in the chipping of the wood before finally going to bed.

***

It had been days since Leah last saw (Y/n) and if the farming life wasn’t so demanding, Leah would have been worried that she had deeply offended the farmer to the point that she was purposely avoiding her. Leah decided not to waste the time she had been presented with.

She approached Robin about sign language lessons, enough to get some basic phrases and words. She practiced the motions herself, perfecting them to allow for no mistakes. Although she knew (Y/n) could hear her just fine, she found it easier to retain the lessons this way. Not to mention that it was just a useful language to know.

“I’ve hardly seen you around. I was worried you stabbed yourself with your woodworking tools.” Elliott said as Leah came up to sit next to him in the saloon.

“And you didn’t think to come to check on me?” Leah looked at the writer incredulously.

“Nope.”

Leah punched Elliott’s arm and he laughed. Before long, Emily came by with their food and they ate comfortably.

“Would you look at that.” Elliot spoke, pointing in direction of the door as he swallowed another bite.

Leah turned to look, purple irises sparkling at the sight of (Y/n) lugging a large bag up to the bar. She watched Emily talk (Y/n)’s ear off, the poor farmer smiled uncomfortably while trying to divide her attention between her and Gus who had apparently requested a variety of fish.

“Wow, Robin said you were in trouble but you really are,” Elliott chuckled behind his beer, “You really lit up just now.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Leah scoffed, still watching (Y/n) hand Gus fish after fish. It was almost comical how such an objectively small bag could hold so much.

“You can’t keep your eyes off her. I realize the dating pool in Stardew is small, but the girl just got here.”

“Elliott, stop!” Leah blushed, looking back down at her plate to stab at her salad.

“I’m just saying, you’re already taking sign language lessons for her you might want to dial it back a little bit. You wouldn’t want to come off as the obsessive type.”

“Oh! She’s leaving, should I offer to walk her home? I’m going to offer to walk her home.” Leah dug in her pocket and pulled out some gold, pushing it over to Elliott.

“What did I just say?” Elliott called after Leah, as she eagerly jogged to the exit to catch (Y/n) walking in the direction of the Cindersaps, perfect!

“(Y/n), good evening!” Leah called jogging up to the farmer only to have the farmer gasp and take several steps away from Leah, holding her hands out as a warning to not come any closer. “I’m sorry, I’m didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable!” Leah gasped, maybe Elliott was right.

(Y/n) shook her head, slowly taking a step back towards Leah, presenting her slightly soggy bag and waving her hand in front of her nose, scrunching her face as she did so.

Leah was sure the movement wasn’t an official ASL sign, but it did help get the point across and she giggled.

“What? Do you think you smell?”

Another nod and a look that seemed to say that she didn’t just think so, she knew so. She had been in the mines all morning and fishing at the beach all afternoon. She couldn’t wait to take a shower.

“It’s alright, I won’t judge you,” Leah smiled, “Are you heading home for the night? I’d be happy to walk with you since it’s so dark.”

(Y/n) took a moment to think about it before nodding shyly and motioning Leah closer. Leah happily obliged walking alongside the farmer into the Cindersap Forest. The walk was mostly silent, but that was to be expected nonetheless, Leah was having a great time. They had even found a couple of leeks along the way which (Y/n) had insisted Leah keep. All too soon, they reached the porch of the old farmhouse.

“You’re crops look great,” Leah complimented, looking for an excuse to stay even just a few minutes more, “really healthy. What all have you been growing? Are those potatoes and turnips?”

(Y/n) looked over her shoulder as she unlocked her door. Her eyes focused on where Leah was pointing and nodded affirmingly.

“Yeah, I’m no farmer but I love foraging. I’ve got a few really good books about wild foods and where to find them and when. It’s kind of like a scavenger hunt.” Leah grinned.

“Mhmm.”

It was quiet, a little strained, but the small hum of agreement almost sent Leah into cardiac arrest. She sounded so sweet! Leah’s cheeks were starting to hurt from how widely she was smiling.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it then. So, I’ll see you around?”

(Y/n) looked like she wanted to say something, but settled for a simple nod, fiddling with the gardening gloves she had taken off. Leah smiled softly, watching how the farmer intently eyed the fabric twisting in her hands.

“Feel free to drop by the cottage whenever it suits you. I’ll leave the door open!” Leah added, waving over her shoulder as she turned to walk away. (Y/n) beamed, looking a bit more lively as she waved back.

Leah turned her back on the house and walked back to her cottage in the Cindersaps with a skip in her step and a painfully large smile on her face. Although it was already late, she prepared a new block of wood for sculpting. Her new muse had granted her a vision for a grand project and had the potential to be one of her greatest works yet.

***

“Kel, I told you to stop calling me. I’m not coming back to the city, we are through.” Leah frowned, her hand gripped the phone receiver so tightly that she could hear the plastic giving slightly under the pressure.

She was so focused on combating Kel’s useless bargains that she hadn’t noticed the timid farmer show herself in, looking at Leah’s tense shoulders and back with concern. (Y/n) flinched as Leah cut off Kel to speak again, her voice low and stern.

“There is nothing you could say, nothing you could offer me, that would make me come back. Move on, and please, for the last time, do not call me again.” Leah slammed the phone down on its perch. Pressing her palms into her eyes she let out a frustrated groan, slowly positioning her hands to rub at her temples to combat the headache she felt coming on.

Then she heard the door creak.

Leah quickly turned around just in time to see (Y/n) looking back at her with wide eyes and lips pursed thin as if she had been caught witnessing an event she had no business seeing. Which was partially true, but Leah had told her a week beforehand that she could drop by anytime.

“(Y/n), what a pleasant surprise!” Leah grimaced, watching (Y/n) flinch and look down sheepishly at her feet. One had managed to retreat back out the door before being caught and it was slowly joined by the intruding foot, so (Y/n) was fully outside again. Leah shook her head and calmly approached the farmer.

“Please don’t leave, I’m the one who told you to come let yourself in whenever. I’m sorry you had to hear all of that.” Leah was worried, watching (Y/n) linger in the doorway. Her shoulders relaxed when (Y/n) cautiously came back inside and closed the door behind her.

(Y/n) stood in the entryway and looked over Leah, her eyes filled heavily with concern. She raised a hand, pointing to Leah before signing the letters ‘o’ and ‘k’.

“I’m okay. I’m just,” Leah fumbled for the right words, “mad, sad? Exhausted.”

(Y/n) made another gesture, shaping her fingers into a ‘hang loose’-esque sign. Her curled fingers meeting her chin. She lowered the hand momentarily to give it a controlled shake before bringing it back up into the starting position.

“What’s wrong?” Leah mumbled, making sure she understood. (Y/n) nodded. “I just got a phone call from someone I didn’t want to talk to is all,” Leah sighed, “They’re an ex of mine. The person who called.” Leah disclosed, rubbing the back of her neck, agitated.

(Y/n) signed again, but Leah didn’t quite catch it that time so she motioned (Y/n) over to her dining nook and sat her down with some paper and a pencil. The farmer seemed a bit unwilling to write it out, feeling like it was more insensitive somehow but with a little prodding from Leah, she gave in.

“Was it a bad break up...” Leah read aloud. She sat back in her chair and carefully chose her words. “Sometimes it feels like we’re still breaking up,” Leah chuckled wryly, “Kel, my ex, didn’t like me perusing art. They didn’t think I could make a living out of it and wanted me to waste away at some office job and well, I didn’t want that. They weren’t respectful or supportive of my dreams, so I left. They call me a lot though, to try to convince me to come back to the city... that I won’t make it as an artist. That I can’t be happy without them. It really is exhausting and the worst part is, I worry that they’re right.” Leah released a shuddering breath, “I haven’t sold a single piece. I don’t really even know how to start. I can sustain myself on what I have in my savings account for only so long.”

(Y/n) covered Leah’s hand with her own, squeezing it. Leah marveled at how soft it was in comparison to her own, especially since it was the hand of a farmer. Perhaps the gloves (Y/n) always wore had more practical uses rather than simply being worn for aesthetic’s sake. Leah chanced a look at (Y/n)’s face and was caught off guard by the determined fire blazing in her eyes. Then Leah’s attention was brought back to the table as (Y/n) furiously scratched the pencil against the paper and forcefully pushed her newly composed message in front of the sculptor, her other hand still rooted over Leah’s.

Leah read over the note and felt her heart ache with appreciative warmth. ‘You were brave enough to know what you wanted and even though it wasn’t easy, you went for it. That in itself is an amazing accomplishment that you should not take lightly. Your dream is not unfounded either, I’ve seen some of your sketches and paintings and I think you are very talented. Once you figure out how to put yourself out there you’ll have people begging you to take their money.’

Leah sniffed and smiled at (Y/n) appreciatively, turning her hand to reciprocate (Y/n)’s strong, yet gentle hold on her. “Thank you, (Y/n). I just wish I knew how to start.”

(Y/n) tapped her chin with the pencil as she thought. When she had an idea, she pulled the paper back to herself and wrote a suggestion.

“An art show? Oh, I don’t know (Y/n). It hardly seems possible.”

(Y/n) shook her head in disagreement and wrote more.

“You really think the town would want to help? Are you sure you want to help? You’ve got enough on your plate already with how busy the farm keeps you. I don’t want to impose.”

(Y/n) looked as if she had something to say, her throat bobbed and her lips twitched, but in the end she settled for the paper again, still too anxious to speak. After Leah had read the reply, she felt (Y/n)’s thumb rub against her knuckles and looked up. (Y/n) nodded, her expression serious. She wanted to help Leah with this.

“Thank you, (Y/n)!” Leah sniffled, holding back tears. She launched herself into (Y/n)’s arms and hugged the surprised farmer close. “Thank you so much!”

(Y/n) slowly returned the hug, smoothing one of her hands over Leah’s back in comforting motions. It was a bit of an awkward position with (Y/n) still sitting at the table and Leah hovering over her, but it felt nice.

“Sorry,” Leah chuckled after a moment, leaning back and wiping a stray tear from her eye, “I kind of caught you off guard with that didn’t I?”

(Y/n) shrugged and smiled good naturedly. A look came over her face as if she just remembered something and she stood up to grab her bag from the cottage entryway. She grinned when she found what she was looking for and made her way back to Leah, holding out a brown paper package to her.

“For me?” Leah asked. (Y/n) nodded and gestured for her to take it. Leah carefully unwrapped it and gasped. “(Y/n), is this goat cheese? I love this, how did you know?”

(Y/n) raised her hand, signing the letters ‘E’ ‘L’ ‘L’ ‘I’ ‘O’ ‘T’ ‘T’.

“Elliott hm?” Leah laughed, “I’m glad you two are getting along after the horseradish debacle.”

(Y/n) crossed her arms and stuck her nose up. She wasn’t looking back on the memory fondly.

“Hey, I’m with you on this one. He was being an ass. How could you have known he hated horseradish.”

(Y/n) nodded in agreement, one of her hands reaching out as if to say, ‘exactly’. She then noticed the time on Leah’s clock and signed that she had to go.

“I see.” Leah smiled sadly, trying not to let her disappointment shine through. “Good bye then, and (Y/n),” Leah signed ‘thank you’, very mindful of the position of her hands this time around, “seriously thank you for everything.”

(Y/n) beamed, giving Leah a thumbs up before heading out the door.

***

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Leah kept mumbling to herself while watching her fellow Pelican Townies set up her creations in the town square. There were already some tourists looking around and Leah felt her nerves fraying.

“Hang in there, kid. Everything looks great. Don’t worry so much.” Robin snuck up on Leah, making her jump. “It’s a beautiful summer day, don’t forget to enjoy it.”

“I’m trying, Robin. It’s just so much.” Leah said, nervously playing with her sleeve. Robin noticed Elliott walking up and motioned him to help deal with the artist while she went to help Demetrius move a heavy wooden sculpture.

“Come on now, Leah. Too late to back out now.” Elliott grinned, thumping her back. “(Y/n) seems especially excited by how things are progressing.”

Leah chanced a glance at (Y/n) and Maru putting up paintings between signing each other excitedly. The scene warmed her heart and her shoulders relaxed a bit.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll try.”

“Great, now let’s go woo some tourists.” Elliott said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“What? Elliott, no!” Leah shook her head.

“Not like that,” Elliott laughed, “I know your heart belongs to someone else. I just meant,” he looks around before whispering in Leah’s ear, “woo them out of their money.”

Leah laughed and pushed Elliott away. “Alright, you focus on the wooing and I’ll focus on explaining my thought processes.”

“That doesn’t sound as fun, but okay, this is your day.”

As Elliot and Leah made their way across the square, an unwelcome guest watched them from afar. Their blood boiled as they saw Leah pause at the makeshift painting gallery to give the farmer’s hand an affectionate squeeze.

***

“I can’t believe we sold so many!” Leah spoke in ecstatic disbelief as she waved at the last car she and (Y/n) had just loaded a heavy wooden sculpture into before it drove away. “This is crazy!”

(Y/n) wore a smile that matched Leah’s, happy to watch the sculptor bouncing in place. When Leah finally stilled, still giddy, she took both of (Y/n)’s hands in hers. Once again free of the gloves, the hands were pleasantly soft against her own and she relished in the feeling.

“(Y/n) I know it’s kind of late, but I have something I want to give to you. I left it at my house so I’m going to go get it. I’ll meet you at the farm, is that alright?”

(Y/n) stared at Leah, her curiosity piqued. She nodded, easily giving Leah the answer she was hoping for.

“Great! I’ll be there soon!” With one last squeeze of the farmer’s hands, she was off. (Y/n) heard the crack of a twig, but when she turned to investigate, nothing stood out so she made her way back to her farm to wait for Leah.

When Leah came up to the porch, (Y/n) had to do a double take at the big wooden statue she was lugging along. With one last huff of air, Leah placed the statue at the base of the steps and grinned up at (Y/n), wiping a bit of sweat from her brow.

“Thanks for waiting. It was a little more ah, heavy, than I expected.” Leah laughed sheepishly. “Come take a look.”

(Y/n) stepped off the porch and circled the piece, taking in every detail. Leah felt nervous butterflies fluttering in her stomach while she watched the farmer scrutinize the work and cleared her throat.

“I started working on it in the spring. I also incorporated some of that driftwood you gave me a few weeks ago. Anyway, I made it with you in mind. It’s called, ‘How I Feel about (Y/n)’ and I’d be honored if you would accept it as a gift for everything you’ve done for me.” Leah stared at her feet as she spoke, too embarrassed to keep her eyes on (Y/n) while she spoke. Then a pair of boots joined, hands came up to clasp her own, pulling the conjoined grasp into her line of vision and coaxing her to look up into (Y/n)’s eyes.

“It’s wonderful.”

At that moment, Leah thought her heart must have been beating so hard that it was affecting her hearing.

“Hh... huh?” Leah asked, rather dumbly.

(Y/n) swallowed thickly, took a deep breath, and whispered, “It’s wonderful, Leah. Thank you.”

Leah looked absolutely awestruck, purple irises shone with excitement and she laughed, pulling (Y/n) into a tight embrace.

“I’m glad you like it.” Leah sniffled, resting her face in (Y/n)’s shoulder.

“Leah?” (Y/n) wrapped her arms around the artist, it was only one word, her name, but Leah heard the concern in the farmer��s tone.

“I’m okay. I’m just happy,” Leah sniffled again, “I’m happy you felt comfortable enough with me to speak to me.”

“Me too.” (Y/n) whispered, holding Leah tighter.

The pair found it difficult when they had to part ways for the night, but they were equally excited over how their relationship was developing, looking forward to spending more time together over the summer.

***

“Come on, just a little further...” Leah coached herself. She was reaching for a piece of fruit hanging from a branch just out of her reach.

She had planned a picnic with (Y/n) for this afternoon. She had already set up under the big old tree near the pond and as she waited for (Y/n) to finish up with her crops and animals for the morning, when she spotted the unusual fruit. Now she was jumping and stretching for the fruit just out of reach.

“Almost— Ah!” Leah struggled to balance herself in the air, swiveling her head to peak over her shoulder, she saw (Y/n) looking up at her with a mischievous grin. Leah rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at the side of her lips. She turned back to the task at hand and grabbed the fruit, motioning (Y/n) to put her back down.

“Show off.” Leah scoffed, lightly punching (Y/n)’s shoulder. “You wanna try a bite?”

“Yes, please.” (Y/n)’s cheeks heated when Leah pressed the fruit to her lips. She took a bite of the offering, savoring the taste. “It’s so sweet.” She said, amazed.

“Right?” Leah smiled, “It’s rare to get fruit from this tree. Usually all the animals snap it all up as soon as they’re ripe, but it seems they miss some from time to time. How is everything with the farm this morning?”

“All is well,” (Y/n) nodded as the pair made themselves comfortable on the blanket Leah had set up, “I would have been here sooner but the goats kept standing in front of my cheese and mayo machines, the chicken coup too. Made it a little difficult.” (Y/n) disclosed. “Which reminds me,” she rummaged through her bag, “goat cheese salads.”

“Mmm, this looks heavenly. Thank you for making these.” Leah said, eagerly stirring in some vinaigrette into the generous fresh salad.

“No problem. Selling my harvest is nice, but it feels so much more rewarding enjoying it like this.” (Y/n) informed, mixing her own salad.

“I can imagine,” Leah hummed and leaned her back fully against the trunk of the tree, “Ah, it’s such a lovely day for this.”

“Mhmm.”

They ate the rest of their meal in peaceful silence, listening to the birds sing and the fish leap, the breeze rustling the trees and grass around them. It was tranquil, it was perfect.

“Hey, Leah,” (Y/n) spoke, breaking the silence.

“Yes?” Leah asked, turning her gaze away from the sketch pad she had brought out.

“It’s almost Fall you know, we’ve known each other for nearly two whole seasons. Half a year, it’s crazy, right?”

“Yeah, it doesn’t seem like it’s been that long, doesn’t it?” Leah giggled, “What made you think of that?”

“Well, I wanted to ask you something. Don’t feel like you have to answer one way or the other, but...” (Y/n) paused, trying to gather her thoughts.

“Hey, it’s okay (Y/n). You can tell me anything. Sign it out if you want to.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m just nervous,” (Y/n) turned to her bag and pulled out a lovely bouquet of flowers, “Leah, would you maybe consider being my girlfriend?“

“Yes!” Leah enveloped (Y/n) in a tackle like hug that sent them both to fully meet the ground, accidentally crushing the flowers between their bodies, “Oops, sorry,” Leah wiggled the flowers out from under her to look at them more closely, “these are lovely, (Y/n). I didn’t know Pierre had these in yet.”

“He didn’t, I planted them.” (Y/n) clarified, smiling up at Leah who still hovered over her, giggling.

“Of course you did, you’re so sweet.”

“I try.”

“Are you kidding me!”

Leah and (Y/n) quickly turned to face the disturbance, scrambling to sit up from their compromising position. Leah felt her stomach twist with discomfort seeing Kel of all people marching up to them, absolutely fuming.

“Seriously, what the hell, Leah?” Kel yelled, their hands clenched into tight fists as they closed in, making yard after yard disappear between them.

“No, more like what the hell, Kel? I broke up with you seasons ago. What are you even doing in Pelican Town?” Leah retorted angrily, as (Y/n) helped her to her feet. Kel watched the motion and ground their teeth.

They were already dangerously close to crossing the threshold of the blanket and that small display was enough to send them stomping over the edge.

“I came for you, obviously! I’ve been slumming it in that dusty old saloon since your art show, waiting to talk to you! Now I find you sucking face with some country bumpkin nobody!” They seethed, stepping even closer into Leah’s personal space until (Y/n) pulled Leah back behind her, making Kel even more incensed. “You stay out of this. I’m talking to Leah!”

(Y/n) held strong, stuck between the harsh obscenities attacking her from the front and the loving affirmations defending her from behind. She held her arm out, willing Kel to stay back as she slowly started to guide Leah back in the direction of town for help. Kel ignored the warning and followed after them.

“Don’t you have anything to say for yourself? You think you’re being some kind of hero right now?” Kel seethed.

(Y/n) stayed silent, she had gone mute again and who would blame her in the face of such a tense situation? She was so very uncomfortable, scared even, but she continued on passed Marnie’s since she knew the woman wasn’t home at this time and she sure wasn’t going to expose Jas to this. Jodi’s house was their next best bet.

“Hey, you obviously want to start something here. You’ve got something to say to me?” Kel continued forward.

“Kel, leave us alone!” Leah commanded, “It’s over, it’s been over, go home!”

“You think you’re too good to talk to me?” Kel yelled, ignoring Leah. “She’s just a whore. She just latched onto the first warm body she could find after her little meltdown. You’re not special.”

(Y/n) froze stiffly in place, Leah felt the muscles on her shoulders tense so she tried to pull on her arm to keep her moving.

“Ignore them, (Y/n). Let’s focus on getting to town, okay?” Leah pleaded. But (Y/n) gently pushed off Leah’s hands and took a step towards Kel with a cold glare. Leah stepped to stand beside (Y/n)’s side, nervous that a more serious confrontation was about to unfold.

“Well?” Kel spat.

(Y/n) crossed her arms, turning her head to look at Leah. The look on her face was all the communication Leah needed to understand. It was definitely a, ‘they better back off or I’m going to knock them off their block’ face. Leah had never known (Y/n) to be particularly violent, but with all the time she spent in the mines, she had no doubt that she could take care of herself.

Leah gasped when Kel suddenly roared, lunging forward. Apparently they had not liked how (Y/n) and Leah had been paying attention to each other rather than themself. Kel had rocketed forward and aimed to punch (Y/n) hard over her cheek, however, at the last moment, Leah pushed her aside and took the blow for her.

(Y/n) inhaled sharply and caught Leah as she stumbled back, noticing how blood immediately began gushing from Leah’s now broken nose.

“Ow- AH!” Leah cried, her hands muffled her voice since she had covered her nose and mouth.

It only took a second for (Y/n) to return the favor to Kel’s stunned face. She punched them fast and hard over their cheek, but Kel was quick to fight back and now it was a full out brawl.

“What’s going on, we heard yelling— holy shit!”

Leah turned away from the fight to see Sam, Seb, and Abigail running up on the scene.

“(Y/n)’s throwing hands!” Abigail yelled, sounding way more excited than worried.

“Leah are you okay? What’s going on?” Sebastian asked, noting the concerning amount of blood running down Leah’s arms and the front of her shirt.

“Don’t worry about me, stop them!” Leah winced, taking one hand away from her face to motion to her ex and her new girlfriend still going at each other.

“Damn, Abi! Go get your dad and Harvey too by the looks of it!” Sam yelled, he seemed to be looking for an opening to push the fighters apart.

“Are you kidding? You get my dad, I’m getting in on this!” Abigail cheered and ran up to jump on Kel’s back like she was at a rodeo while (Y/n) landed a good hit on Kel’s stomach. “Nice punch, (Y/n)!”

“Oh Yoba, Sam, start running.” Seb suggested, trying to help Leah with her nose. He was no Maru, but even he knew how to set a broken nose. Especially within the first couple weeks of Sam taking up skateboarding.

“Right!” Sam ran off back into town screaming. A few tense minutes later and Pierre, Caroline, Robin, Elliott, Maru and Harvey came running behind Sam to break up the fight.

“Abigail, stop!” Pierre huffed, pulling off his daughter and passing her off to his wife, “I taught you what I did to defend yourself, not to lash out like a wild animal!” He grunted, pulling Kel into his grasp and trapping their arms behind their back with Elliott coming up to assist.

“Come on dad, I was helping a friend! What’s the big deal?” Abi groaned, while her mom fretted over her, looking for injuries.

“Easy there kid, it’s over.” Robin coaxed (Y/n), pulling her back. The farmer slumped over in the carpenter’s hold, breathing heavily.

“Is (Y/n) okay? Ah!” Leah hissed as Harvey touched up her nose, giving her a nasal spray before wedging a couple wads of tissue up her nostrils.

“Sorry, Leah.” Harvey sympathized, “Maru is going to check up on her now.”

“What about me?” Kel hissed. Pierre had them resting on their knees. They looked really roughed up. A black eye was already forming and scratches and bruises littered their skin, they were also holding their stomach rather tightly.

“You’ll just have to wait a minute.” Elliott frowned, staring down at the stranger with contempt.

“Don’t you have any police officers in this backwater town? I’ll sue every one of you for withholding care to someone who is obviously hurt!” Kel threatened, grinding their teeth.

“Oh, the police are coming alright!”  Caroline spoke indignantly. “You are in no position to be asking for anything right now, bringing violence to our community, you should be ashamed!”

“(Y/n) can you look up for me, please.” Maru asked, carefully tilting (Y/n)’s chin up. (Y/n) sucked in a breath when Maru touched her bruised jaw a tad to hard. “Sorry, Your jaw is bruised pretty badly. Your bottom lip split too. How is your vision?”

(Y/n) shook her head and winced, cradling her head in her hands.

“Okay, possible concussion. We’ll need to observe her at the clinic.” Maru said.

“Alright, come on bruiser,” Robin grunted, heaving (Y/n) to her feet, “Sebbie, help me walk her into town please.”

“Sure mom.” Seb took (Y/n)’s other side.

(Y/n) patted Robin’s arm, motioning her to wait. She slowly turned to Kel and leaned more heavily against Seb as she freed her other arm from Robin to snap her fingers aggressively, looking for Kel’s attention. Once Kel looked up at her, sneering from their spot in the dirt, (Y/n) turned briefly to make sure Leah was watching. When she saw that she was, she smiled as if to say, ‘watch this,’ and turned back to Kel. (Y/n) brought her flat, angled hand below her chin and sent it forward in the direction of Kel’s confused, but no less, pissed face.

“Oh ho! (Y/n) is such a badass!” Abigail laughed.

“Abi, since when do you know sign language?” Sam asked, clearly confused.

“I don’t, but I’ve spent enough time searching curses in different languages to know that was totally a ‘fuck you’. Personally I think a middle finger approach would have been an appropriate classic myself but whatever.” Abigail shrugged.

“Abigail, language!” Caroline scolded.

“Sorry mom.”

“Alright, you’ve had your fun. Clinic, now.” Robin tried to hold in a laugh as she repositioned (Y/n)’s arm over her shoulder. Then she and Seb began walking (Y/n) back into town.

Leah made to follow, but as they were leaving, the police from the the next town over had arrived and they needed her statements as a witness. Never mind that she was covered in her own blood and her girlfriend was being dragged away to the clinic with a concussion. Once the officers were satisfied, they took Kel away with promises to be back for (Y/n)’s statement and to see if any charges would be made. For now they were just going to take Kel back to a hospital in Zuzu City since they may have broken a rib or two in the fight. After that, they were going to be free to go.

Leah wasn’t too worried. She didn’t think Kel would come back after the beating (Y/n) and Abigail gave them. She watched the police car drive out of Cindersaps, taking her disgruntled ex away.

“Leah, I’m sure you want to get to the clinic but you should really clean up first.” Caroline had said patting the younger woman’s back. “(Y/n) will be fine.”

“Yeah, Harvey and Maru got her. Take some time to process.” Elliott smiled.

Leah could only nod tiredly. She trudged over to her cottage to shower and change. She still couldn’t believe how quickly things got out of hand. She looked at her bandaged nose in the mirror, hissing when she gingerly touched the bridge of it. She was wary of Seb setting it himself, but Harvey said he had gone a great job. Once she was physically put back together, Leah quickly made her way to the clinic.

“Where is she?” She asked immediately upon arriving. She sounded a little congested thanks to her clogged nose, but she was easily understood. Robin was still in the waiting room and filled her in.

“Harvey and Maru are talking her through concussion care. She’s okay, but I don’t think she’ll be allowed to work for awhile.”

“Oh no,” Leah sat down, resting her elbows on her knees and covered her eyes with her hands, “This is all my fault.”

“Aw, don’t say that sweetheart. You know that’s not true.” Robin frowned, taking a seat beside her, “(Y/n) would hate to hear you think like that.”

“(Y/n) loves her farm! If she can’t maintain the upkeep...” Leah continued, teary eyed, only to be silenced by Robin.

“I’m going to stop you right there. Nothing is going to happen to the farm. Abi, Sam, and even Seb already told (Y/n) in no uncertain terms that they were going to pitch in while she recovers. Everything is going to be taken care of.” Robin assured.

“Still none of this would have happened if-“

“If you hadn’t broken up with your ex? Moved to Pelican Town? Got a crush? Leah, you can’t punish yourself for moving on with your life. You’re allowed to be happy.” Robin chided gently. “It was hard for me and Sebastian’s father to see eye to eye at the best of times. Now I have Demetrius and although he can be a bit annoying sometimes with his tomato bullshit, not a day goes by that I’m not grateful I took that first step because I love him.” Robin smiled.

Leah’s nose hurt like hell as she tried to carefully wipe the tears from her eyes and Robin rubbed her back affectionately. Once Leah had calmed down, Robin stood and stretched.

“She’s been wondering where you are. The doc is keeping her for overnight observation, but your welcome to stay with her. I on the other hand, am apparently too old for this much excitement and need to go home.”

“Thank you Robin, for talking to me.”

“Anytime,” Robin grinned, “now go get her.”

Leah made her way into the back area of the clinic and nearly ran up to Harvey, Maru, and (Y/n). (Y/n) was signing to Maru while she relayed the information to Harvey as he examined (Y/n)’s well being.

(Y/n) was relieved to see Leah and eagerly motioned her to come sit on the edge of the bed she was sitting in which Leah did happily.

“Leah, how’s the nose?” Harvey asked while he finished up (Y/n)’s chart.

“It’s fine. Just, really sore and tingly.”

“So not fine.” Maru chuckled. “I’ll get you some pain meds.”

“Ah, thanks Maru.” Leah smiled sheepishly.

“Well, Ms. (Y/n),” Harvey sighed, turning his attention back to the farmer, “you and I are in for a long night. I’ll be waking you up every hour to check your pupils to see if your condition changes at all.” Harvey stood and stretched, “Ms. Leah, feel welcome to stay as long as you like. It can’t hurt to keep an extra pair of eyes on her.”

“I could stay overtime, Harvey.” Maru said as she came back with two pills and a glass of water for Leah.

“I seem to recall you talking about a time sensitive experiment this morning.” Harvey recalled, making Maru smack the side of her head. “You’re right! I got to go now! Good night everyone!” Maru called behind her as she rushed out to the waiting room then out of the building.

“I’m going to take the first of my many naps lined up for tonight. I’ll see you ladies in about an hour. Try to get some rest.” Harvey said before leaving to walk up the stairs to his apartment.

Finally Leah and (Y/n) were alone again. (Y/n) sunk down into the covers and sighed deeply. She turned to face Leah, concerning the sculptor by how small she looked.

“You’re not too upset with me, are you?” (Y/n) asked, surprising Leah.

“I’m not upset with you. Why would I be upset with you?”

“I just beat the crap out a person. Sure they are your ex, but you cared about them at some point so it must have been hard to watch. I can’t imagine what you must think of me now.” (Y/n) whispered, she was so quiet Leah had to lean closer and even then she was straining to hear.

“(Y/n), I like you. Nothing that happened today changed how much I like you. It certainly didn’t make me like you any less,” Leah rested her hand over (Y/n)’s cheek, “Kel made their choice when they decided to come to Pelican Town and confront us. I wish it hadn’t gone down the way it did, but that’s not our fault. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“I’m glad you’re okay too. I was worried.”

“I wish we could start this day all over,” Leah moaned, “First day as official girlfriends and we get into a fist fight.”

(Y/n) laughed lightly, closing her eyes to combat the pain that came from her jostling. “Abigail thought it was a pretty great date activity.”

“She would think that.” Leah rolled her eyes, “she also eats rocks.”

“Well, think about it this way. Until I’m allowed to take up all my farming duties again, you can do whatever you want with me.”

“Whatever I want, hmm?” Leah tapped her lips with her index finger, “would it be to forward if me to ask for a kiss?”

“You may, just be careful with my split lip. I won’t be able to explain what happened to Harvey if you make it worse.” (Y/n) said.

“One gentle kiss, coming right up.” Leah wiggled on the bed’s stiff hospital sheets until she laid face to face with (Y/n). Their lips met in a soft brushing that was almost ghost like, but rather than leaving them with a chill, warmth bloomed between them.

“Wow.” (Y/n) grinned.

“If you thought that was good, wait until I can get more involved with it.”

“So confident. I like it.” (Y/n) squinted, “could you turn the light off? It’s really starting to hurt my eyes.”

“Of course.” Leah got up and switched off the half the lights to keep their side of the room in darkness but allow Harvey to still be able to see when he came back.

“Now come cuddle, please.” (Y/n) asked sleepily reaching her arms out.

“Nothing would make me happier.”

Leah kicked off her boots and shimmied under the sheets to join (Y/n) and wrapped her arms around her. Leah let the exhaustion of the day roll over her and she had nearly let sleep claim her before her eyes shot open and she propped herself up on her elbow to lean over (Y/n).

“Did I really sign a ‘fuck you’ when we first met?!” She asked, appalled.

(Y/n)’s response was to laugh sleepily into Leah’s chest.

[excitedlysuffering]

Green With Envy

It’s past 2am and my eyes hurt so it’s unedited for now sorry y’all😅

Original Request (from Wattpad account): What makes the boys jealous, if possible?

Guest stars: Sasori and Sai!

Masterlist     

Naruto~

Oh, this boy… he’s too oblivious sometimes he doesn’t even know to be jealous. He was at a hot spring with friends once and someone says, “(Y/N) is so hot…” Naruto just grinned and said, “Yeah, she really is.”

But that doesn’t mean he won’t protect your honor. If someone says something a little too… risque like ‘Yeah, I’d tap that’ for example, get ready for more Narutos than you can count all charging you with a Rasengan.

He will not stand other guys cozying up to you. He’s the one who should be blessed with your hugs and cuddles. Won’t hesitate to cause a scene and yell to the entire world that he loves you and won’t let any other guy make a pass at you.

“Naruto, you didn’t need to go that far! You blasted him through three walls!” He’s endearing, really.

Sasuke~

Is jealousy an Uchiha thing or just a Sasuke thing? One of life’s many mysteries. Anywho, unlike Naruto, the second your name is brought up in conversation, he goes on guard and he’s listening closely.

If anything is said that he deems inappropriate, whether it be disparaging or otherwise, Sasuke had better be held back or he just might punch you into next week.

“Sasuke, calm down! He just said I had good taste in clothes!”

Even though he can easily get jealous, he knows the importance of freedom and he trusts you. He won’t come guns blazing (or sword slashing rather) and drag you away unless you need it of course.

The last thing he wants is for you to feel like you’re dating your dad or something. He’s very blunt and if he becomes uneasy with the way another male is talking to you, he’ll let said male know. Maybe after scowling with his Sharingan activated, however.

Neji~

Neji doesn’t really get jealous per se, more like offended on your behalf. Because of his upbringing, which taught him manners and the utmost respect, he really can’t understand talking about girls like they’re objects? Will never refer to a woman as ‘hot’ or anything like that.

If someone even dares speak of you like that, (even if you’re not necessarily together yet) he will fight them, and they will experience the 64 palms technique.

He especially hates people in your personal space. He really does trust you, just not others. Is not afraid to embarrass someone on your behalf. Half the time his glare is enough to scare them off, but some people are just clueless. (They wake up in the hospital)

“Neji! You can’t just throw me over your shoulder and leave! And that guy looked like he had seen a ghost?!” Needless to say, even cool, calm, and collected Neji has his limits.

Shikamaru~

Shika is too laid back to get jealous over little things. Somewhat like Neji, he doesn’t get jealous. He might feel threatened on your behalf, but never jealous. He can trust you with his life why shouldn’t he trust you with your relationship?

However, if someone is clearly harassing you or just generally making you uncomfortable, he will not hesitate to step in and make them leave. He won’t resort to physical violence (too much work), but he will intimidate them or put his genius to use and play some kind of trick on them.

He honestly has endless patience and at the same time no patience? Patience with you if you’re having a pleasant conversation with someone, but will go from 0-100 (or 50, really, anything more is a lot of effort) real quick.

“Shika, that guy thought he was really paralyzed, thanks to your shadow possession!” Being jealous is a waste of time, but clever revenge is always a treat for Shika.

Kiba~

So. Jealous. So. Easily. Kiba is naturally animalistic (in the best way) and just like a dog, can be very possessive. If explicitly asked, he will try to tone down his jealous fits, but will still be protective. If he does have free reign, however, oh boy…

No chill at all, whatsoever. Whether it’s absolutely destroying the object of his rage or just simply making out with you right there. No matter how annoyed he may get, he respects you with every fiber of his being and would never tell you to change or try to control you. He wouldn’t ever embarrass you (unless Kiba and Akamaru pummeling a room full of guys is embarrassing).

Just let him FIND OUT someone is making you feel the slightest bit of unease. One second, they’re chatting you up and then BAM! There’s a flash of white and a huge dog ready to maul them.

“Kiba, what do you mean they all looked at me for too long?! We walked in the door, of course, they turned to look!”

Gaara~

Gaara is a bit of a conundrum, but in a way that makes sense? Like, he doesn’t feel the need to get jealous of guys because when you leave, he’s going to be kissing you goodnight, and he’s the one who gets to spoil you.

However, he will get jealous of little things. Oh, you’ve spent a good amount of time playing with an animal/pet? Be prepared to walk in on Gaara giving them a stern lecture on stealing you from them. Gaara knows he has any potential suitors beat, but tiny adorable animals and children? In his mind, he can never be too cautious.

He gets a little pouty but that can easily be cured with cuddles, sometimes with that evil little pet that stole your affections from him. He can never stay jealous for long, he views it as an unproductive waste of time. He could be actively trying to get your attention, but instead, he’s going to be sulking in a corner? Yeah, no.

“Gaara! Stop scolding my cat, that’s not doing anything!”

Sai~

On the rare occasion that this cinnamon roll gets jealous, he’s confused and shocked. Like just imagine the surprised Pikachu face and that’s him. He knows what jealousy is, he can identify it just fine, but he doesn’t know why he’s jealous.

You aren’t doing anything, all you did was laugh at someone else’s jokes, but still… do you find them funnier than him? Are you going to leave him because he’s not that funny?! Cue the slow onset into insanity… Poor Sai is losing his mind to paranoia and made-up scenarios.

Will most certainly drag you away (gently) from whoever is taking your attention and leave. He doesn’t even bother with a fake smile, they don’t deserve it. He’ll explain to you calmly even though he’s panicking on the inside. Once he is back to normal he’ll show you his nearest artwork.

“What the-! Sai, you can’t just draw caricatures on people’s car!” You don’t even want to know how he figures out which car is theirs...

Kakashi~

Too cocky to be jealous. He has the right to be though because one glance at him without his face mask can cause instant pregnancy. Anywho, he knows you love him and some guy trying to hit on you like some high school douche isn’t going to change that.

He does like to intervene, however, just to flex like ‘yeah, I’m the boyfriend, now get lost’.

He’s not big on PDA, so he won’t start kissing you to ward off strangers, but he will wrap on arm around you or hold your hand and ask who your ‘friend’ is.

When there’s that one stubborn person who won’t take a hint, Kakashi doesn’t mind rocking someone’s world or getting kicked out, he needed to perfect that one offense technique anyways. He’s pretty laid back though, so it has to be somewhat drastic for this though, plus he knows you can handle yourself.

“A thousand years of death?! Isn’t it weird to be poking old men in the butt?!

~Akatsuki~

Pein~

Pfft. Who does he have to be jealous of? He’s a god among mortals, after all. To him, you’re a goddess and as such you belong with someone like him, not the peasants around you.

But on the offhand chance that someone doesn’t heed his godly status, he will not hesitate to pull you into his side and yell ‘Almighty Push’ and totally obliterate that loser. (A/N: Holy crap I think that needs to be a one-shot cuz, wow, Pein being all protective is making me swoon?)

If it’s not a big deal, he’ll easily let you take care of it. If you’re strong enough to catch Pein’s attention, you’re more than strong enough to deal with some lowlife. That doesn’t mean, however, that they won’t feel his wrath too.

If you ever want to witness a true royal rumble, dare someone to mess with Pein’s S/O. It’d be an epic tag team match (slaughter, really) for the ages. One would d be surprised how quick he can lose his cool when it comes to you.

“Pein, that’s the fifth time this month! Kakuzu is going to murder me if I ask for money to fix this wall!”

Deidara~

Need I even say it? Jealous boy all the way. You’re his favorite masterpiece so why should let an uncultured swine who doesn’t even understand your worth touch you? Rhetorical question, he wouldn’t.

He is not above fighting or placing a bomb on someone who gives you one too many glances. He’d make sure they knew it wasn’t art, they weren’t good enough for that, before blowing the offender up.

No one and he means no one gets to talk bad about his S/O. If someone insults you in his presence they might as well as swallowed one of his explosives and trusted him not to blow them up.

Will one 100% hide you from view if you look too appealing. He thinks you look ravishing, but he’s the only one who should be able to think that, in his opinion. Don’t worry, no one’s ever gotten close enough to harass you with Dei around. His one-eyed scowl is a great deterrent.

“Deidara! You blew up my favorite restaurant! He didn’t even say anything to me!”

Sasori~

Would rather die before admitting he was jealous. As adamant about not being jealous as he is about art being eternal. That’s not to say that he won’t take action though. He will use chakra strings to make the perpetrator walk away, meanwhile making them bump into literally everything in the general vicinity.

The two of you don’t leave the base all that often so it’s unusual to see an envious Sasori action, but it’s a real treat when it happens. After he deals with whatever idiot crossed him, he’ll be a bit more affectionate that day/night.

Not huge things, but instead of working on puppets all night, he’d be more apt to hold you that night. Average people hitting on you make him insecure because he realizes he’s not that great at normal relationships but he still doesn’t want to lose you. That feeds into his jealousy and he figures the only way to get rid of it is to make sure those other guys can’t offer anything he doesn’t have.

“Sasori! If you wanted a hug, you could’ve said that instead of treating that guy like a ball inside of a pinball machine!”

[marvelgiggles]

Learning to Be Loved

Chapter 1

I swear you guys aren’t prepared for the sweetness and sadness to come!!

THIS IS A TICKLE SERIES!!! DON’T LIKE THEN PLEASE KEEP SCROLLING!

The drive to Tony’s house was longer and more out of the city than you expected. The land was beautiful and then when you saw the house you were in awe. You’ve never seen a house so big.

“Not what you expected huh?” Tony asked. You shook your head when suddenly nervousness settled in your stomach, what if you got lost or got lonely in this huge house. Happy pulled into the entrance way and opened Tony’s door, you were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t realize Tony got out of the car. “Having second thoughts?” You cleared your head and got out of the car.

“Well everyone knows your coming so it shouldn’t be a big surprise to them. Don’t worry they are some of the nicest and kindest people you’ll ever meet.” Tony said.

Who was everyone? Was it a large group of people? Were they people your age? A million more thoughts ran through your head as you walked closer and closer to the door. Tony opened the door for you and were just as in shock as you were when you saw the outside of the house. It was oddly comforting and also made you feel very very small due to the size.

“Come on everyone is this way.” Tony motioned for you to follow him. You walked into what seemed like a living room and there were probably eight people waiting to meet you. They all looked familiar too, but you still couldn’t remember where you’ve seen them. You were a little intimidated with all the eyes on you but you were determined to stand your ground. “Everyone this is Y/N, Y/N these are the Avengers.” 

The Avengers! That’s why they all looked familiar! But you were now going to possibly live with the Avengers, there was no way this was real life. This had to be a dream you would be waking up from very very soon.

“I’m sure you all want to get to know her but I’m going to show her her room and let her get settled in.” Tony stated as he motioned for you to follow him. He lead you down a maze of hallways. Finally the both of you stopped at the door you assumed to be your room, “I know it isn’t much right now but I have some stuff coming later and if you want anything don’t be afraid to ask, okay?” You nodded your head and opened the door. 

The room was far bigger than you’ve had in the past and you thought it was perfect right now, you had no idea what Tony could have bought to make it better. Although you all of a sudden felt guilty he had bought anything in the first place, I mean you were practically a stranger, a pretzel and hot dog were one thing but furniture for your own room was a whole other thing. 

“Go ahead get settled in. If you need anything let JARVIS know.” 

“Hello.” JARVIS’s voice echoed the room, alarming you a little. 

“Don’t worry he can’t see you or anything but go ahead put your things away and even take a nap if you want. You deserve a good sleep.” 

“Thank you.” You told Tony as you watched him shut your door to give you some privacy. 

You quickly put the few things you had away and crawled into your new bed. You’ve never had a bed this comfortable and quickly fell asleep.

________________

Meanwhile down in the living room

“Tony where in the world did you find her.” Steve asked. 

“She wandered into the Avengers tower lobby probably to get out of the heat. When I saw her all dirty and she looked so lost. I couldn’t help it and I can’t explain it. I tried to follow her but lost her in the crowd so I had JARVIS follow her. He followed her all the way to a teenage drop in center.” Tony said filling everyone in.

“Okay but you can’t just bring random teenagers back to the compound.” Clint argued. “What if she has an actual family out there or is on the run.”

“I’m having JARVIS try to find out her background and who she is. If she was kidnapped or something when she was younger, I will simply bring her back to her family. If they don’t have any red flags.” 

“I think she’s cute.” Bucky stated completely understanding what Tony felt because as soon as he laid eyes on her, a fierce need to protect her ran through him.

JARVIS discovered who she was and Tony starts reading the report to the team.

“Okay her name is Y/N L/N. She was born on Y/B to a Jane Doe at a hospital in Idaho and was abandoned in the hospital so she was immediately put into social services and was placed with a couple in New York. The reports from the social worker say that the couple was oddly clinical in their relationship with her but they had no means to remove her because she was excelling in school and all of her needs were being met. It also says that she always seemed to be on her absolute best behavior and the social worker said it looked like she was looking for approval and affection every time she looked at the couple she was placed with and it only got worse each time she visited.” Tony finished quietly at the end, his heart breaking for that poor girl. 

“She must not know what it means to be loved.” Bucky also stated with heartbreak in his voice. 

“Avengers, we have a new mission. We have to help Y/N learn how to be loved.” Everyone nodded in agreement. 

———————-

It’s been a few weeks since Tony took you in. You still couldn’t believe that you were living here. Everyone was so nice. They always smiled at you when they saw you, they wanted you to spend time with them and include you in things, they always communicated with you not wanting to make you uncomfortable. Although you had a special bond with Tony because he obviously took you in and was the father figure in your life. A couple days after Tony brought you to the Avengers compound, is what he called it, he noticed you were pretty quiet. 

“Y/N are you uncomfortable here?” Tony asked you. 

“No.” You told him honestly.

“Well I’ve noticed you’ve been pretty quiet.” He mentioned. “I just want you to know you can totally be yourself here and I know that your foster parents didn’t treat you very well.” You stiffened up a little when he mentioned them. “Sweetie, I have to know. Did they hurt you at all?”

“They didn’t hit me if that’s what you mean. I don’t think they really wanted me though.” You said almost ashamed and you looked down at your lap to embarrassed to look at Tony. 

“Oh sweetheart. Well I can tell you we want you here, we want to show you what a real family is. I also want you to know no question is off limits, so if you have absolutely any questions about anything don’t feel scared to ask. There is no judgement here.”

You nodded, excited to see what a family is.

Tony stood up, “Now let’s go get something to eat.” 

You also had a special bond with Bucky too. There was something about the way that he looked at you when Tony introduced you to everyone, you felt very safe, protected and something else you couldn’t figure out. You were also fascinated by his metal arm.

“Hey Y/N, wanna watch a movie with me?” Bucky asked you. 

“Yeah.” You said you didn’t watch a lot of them growing up and you loved them. Plus you had a lot of them to catch up on. You sat on the couch away from Bucky.

“Y/N you can sit closer to me if you want, if you wanna cuddle we can do that too.” Bucky smiled at you.

“What’s cuddling?” Your foster parents never showed you any affection. You knew what hugs were but that’s all and your foster parents didn’t even show you what that was. One of your classmates in kindergarten did that to you and you had to ask your teacher what it was. You liked it when you classmate hugged you it made you feel warm inside. Although your foster parents didn’t like it and you didn’t know anyone you could get a hug from. 

Bucky’s heart hurt a little bit, how could your foster parent never want to cuddle a sweet little thing like you. “Cuddling is a sort of gentle hug that you do with someone you care about. Here I’ll show you. Scoot over to me.” He waited until you were right next to him. “Now I’m going to lay down and you can lay down on my right side, then I’m going to put my arm around you and pull you closer. You can rest your head on my chest if you want too, kinda like a pillow. Sound good?”

You nodded excited about the new type of affection that Bucky was going to show you. You crawled into Bucky’s side and you had to shift a little bit to get comfortable but you loved this feeling. 

“Feel good sweetheart.” Bucky said. You nodded with a small smile on your face and nestled a little further into Bucky’s chest. “Good.” He said as he kissed your forehead. You turned to look up at him. 

“Why’d you put your lips on me?” You asked him. 

If Bucky’s heart hurt from the fact that you’ve never been cuddle, it shattered to pieces when he realized that you’ve never been kissed in your entire life. It made him want to cry and also destroy those foster parents of yours for neglecting you of love and affection your entire life. “That’s called a kiss. It’s another thing people do to show someone they love them. It can mean a lot of things hello, goodbye, it’s okay, I’m sorry, but it will always always mean I love you.” You felt bold and decided to also kiss his cheek in return, Bucky’s heart practically melted and he pulled you even closer. 

Later on in the movie, you were starting to drift off. “Hey no falling asleep.” Bucky teased as he squeezed your side. You gasped at the new feeling and tried to squirm away from his hand. “Well it looks like you’re ticklish, Y/N!” 

“What’s that?” You said before he could do it again. Bucky was so happy that he was the one that was teaching you all sorts of new things and by finding out you were ticklish made you even more adorable to him.

“Ticklish is something that describes when another person pokes, squeezes or rapidly moves their fingers over a spot on your body it can make you want to squirm away and causes you to laugh. Usually, people have more than one ticklish spot and they have one more ticklish than the other. Now let’s find yours.” 

Bucky pulled you up onto his chest so you were laying belly to belly, he wrapped both his arms around you and started to squeeze your sides again and you broke out into giggles. You actually didn’t mind the feeling it was kinda fun and something you’ve never felt before. “Seems like you pretty ticklish Y/N, so that must mean you are ticklish it some other places.” Bucky teased as his fingers started to work upwards towards your ribs.

You started to struggle a little bit more and laugh a little harder. You couldn’t stop your body from trying to grab his hands, even though you didn’t want him to stop tickling you. “Looks like your ribs are pretty ticklish Y/N. Are your armpits ticklish too?” 

When Bucky put his fingers in your armpits you started to laugh very high pitched and rapidly. “You sound like a Tickle Me Elmo doll there sweetie.” He said as he then kissed your cheek but didn’t stop tickling your armpits.

You were starting to get worn out and Bucky must have caught on because he stopped tickling you. “Tickling can also wear you out and it’s important to let the person you are tickling catch their breath after a while because you might make them pass out. 

“Are you ticklish?” You asked Bucky. 

“Yes.” He said with some nervousness in his voice. “But you can tickle me if you want.” 

You smiled and started to squeeze his side just like he did to yours and Bucky squirmed a little but start to laugh. You loved the sound of it and could understand why Bucky was having so much fun when he was tickling you. You decided to move in towards his belly to see if that was a spot people were ticklish too and Bucky started to laugh harder. 

“Ohohohokay!” Bucky said through his laughter. You immediately stopped not wanting him to be uncomfortable or mad at you. 

Suddenly you were looking up at Bucky because he flipped you over. “Let’s see if your belly is ticklish too.” He smirked and started to tickle your belly, you squealed, squirmed a little harder and laughed a little deeper. “This looks like your most ticklish spot so far. I want to try two more spots and then I will let you go.” You nodded not really wanting him to stop since you were having fun. 

“One spot that is almost ticklish on everyone is their feet.” He grabbed one of your feet and held your ankle is his metal arm. He quickly ran his fingers up and down and your body’s instinct was to kick and you started to laugh helplessly. “This is a good spot too, so far not as good as your ribs but there is still one more place I want to try.” He let your foot go and but pulled your leg so you didn’t have much room to bend your knee. 

“A place that most people don’t think is ticklish is their knees but let’s see if yours are.” Bucky started to squeeze right above your knee you screamed and laughed harder and deeper than any of the other spots. “Looks like your knees are your most ticklish spot Y/N.” He only tickled you here a little longer before letting you go. 

“What happened? What’s wrong?” Bucky and you both looked to see Steve and Tony standing in the entrance to the living room.

“What?” Bucky asked. 

“We heard Y/N scream and though something was wrong.” 

Bucky laughed again, “No! I was showing Y/N what cuddling is and found out she’s ticklish.” Bucky started to tickle your ribs again, you started to laugh again. “It seems like her ribs are her second most ticklish spot next to her knees.” Bucky started to squeeze your knees again making you frantically kick your legs and belly laugh again.  Bucky stopped again pretty quickly probably not wanting to wear you out too much.

“Looks like she’s almost as ticklish as Peter.” Tony smirked

“Who’s Peter?” you asked. 

[dragon-ball-meta]

Yes, a Reddit post. I’m sure so many of you are shocked that our colossally bad take came from there, (and probably from Toyotaro’s burner account lol), but nevertheless, here it is. How to even begin to unpack this... Okay, here we go: 1. Goku’s was hardly the only one who didn’t want to stop Gero. Vegeta literally threatened to KILL anyone who DID try to stop them. Tien wanted to fight them to test his limits. Goku’s desire was to fight them, yes, hello, this is Goku, But he also refused to just find and straight-up kill Gero when he TECHNICALLY hadn’t done anything to warrant it yet. And, as we actually came to see, that’s not an entirely unwarranted stance; things changed between these two timelines even without direct intervention. Unlikely as it was, it was possible that Gero may not have gone through with it. There have been entire books and films on this topic.. 2. This stupid claim just refuses to die. At what point in any part of the fight with Goku and Cell was it even IMPLIED that Goku could have won? Goku stated he’d been going all-out in his fight with Cell, when the Cell Jrs arrived and started attacking, Goku was getting bodied even though they were only about as strong as Vegeta or Trunks, who were both far below him when at full power. Goku could not have beaten Cell. ONLY Gohan could. The boy even said that he’d thought Goku and Cell were both not fighting seriously because they looked to be moving slowly to him. Gohan was already stronger than Goku, before he ever turned SSJ2. Period. And for the love of GOD, STOP with this “severe emotional trauma” nonsense! Gohan had been watching people die, his friends no less, since he was FIVE. In fact, seeing that at FIVE is FAR more likely to have given him any severe and lasting emotional trauma. PICCOLO is more likely to have caused this than Goku. Yes, the Piccolo the OP even then tries to claim is the paragon of fatherhood. Gohan was already afraid of his own anger, he always had a dislike of fighting and hurting people. The thing that shook the boy the most was watching his dad die and knowing it was partly his fault. Even then, he grew up into a healthy, well-adjusted man with his dream job and a family. Just STOP pushing your headcanons onto him for two seconds! 3. THINKS he could have killed Buu. Opted to try to teach those still alive a technique that would enable THEM to kill Buu and keep protecting the Earth even after he was gone. Could have killed Vegeta, yes, and sent him to hell and left Bulma and Trunks broken-hearted. Instead opted to try to reason with him first and allow him to think he’d finally caught up to him so he’d stop obsessing over their power gap to the point of SELLING HIS SOUL TO AN EVIL WIZARD TO GET THE EDGE.. And now, for the completely asinine reasons Goku is eeeeevil: 1. You’re acting as if this isn’t just Goku. That is LITERALLY Goku. Always HAS been Goku. He treats EVERYNE as a peer and potential friend and ADORES the idea of trying to fight strong people. Note that he also ASKED for a spar, didn’t just “attack” or something. This also has nothing to do with a thirst for “power”, it has to do with Goku trying to test himself and push himself to be the greatest warrior it’s possible for him to be. This is the same mentality that had Goku excited for the Tenkaichi Budokai, that had him excited to face Vegeta, that had him spare Piccolo and Vegeta for the sake of  rematch against such a great opponent someday. This is not some sort of development that happened post-Namek, and it’s by no means Evil. Also, how tf did VEGETA supposedly warn him when Vegeta was back on Earth and nowhere to be found?  2. Again... this is just Goku. This is how he is. That doesn’t mean he didn’t care about the plight of others though; Goku doesn’t just sit back and ignore suffering he’s been made aware of, and he helps his friends. But yes, the idea of facing HIMSELF was exciting to him; possibly his ONLY chance to compare his progress to another “version” of himself.  And... I’m sorry, but Goku erupting into a fit of rage over his family’s murder is invalidated because he was mad it used HIS body? Really? NO KIDDING I’d be extra pissed if some psychopath took over my body and murdered my wife and little boy! Who WOULDN’T be pissed about that? The last thing his wife saw was her husband’s face grinning as he cut through her and their son. The last thing Goten saw was his daddy GLEEFULLY murdering him. The fact that he flew into the biggest rage he’d ever had since he first fought FREEZA over this shows how much that hurt him. The fact that you think it was entirely about the use of his body and not their deaths shows a piss-poor ability to analyze what you see on screen, ESPECIALLY as he was upset but mostly indifferent hearing how Zamasu stole his body UNTIL he told Goku he murdered his family too. THEN he flew into a rage. This is also going to invalidate an upcoming point, so pin this.

3. Aaaand... we’re right back to the Tournament of Power itself. The Tournament that literally no one foresaw as having those results. The one that as stated to actually buy one universe that was gonna be wiped anyways a fighting chance to survive, and later turned out to be a massive morality test to allow ALL of said universes to survive. Nevermind that though, this OP here asserts that Goku KNEW it would result in that, was TOLD it would even (he literally was not I am so sick of that claim), and didn’t even KNOW they COULD undo it and STILL wanted it! This is easily the most hardcore anti-Goku stance I have ever seen on this topic This isn’t just chiding him for being ignorant or not listening to warnings (again, not applicable), it’s accusing him of KNOWING Genocide would happen and actually WATING that in the name of a few fights.  This being his stance is further illustrated by his assertion that Goku is indisputably a sociopath. Let’s look at the definition of a sociopath, shall we? “A person with a personality disorder manifesting itself in extreme antisocial attitudes and behavior and a lack of conscience.” This is not Goku. OBJECTIVELY not Goku. Goku is far from anti-social, and very much has a strong sense of right and wrong, hence his desire to intervene when he comes across people suffering. Hence why he sought justice for the murder of Upa’s father. Hence why he felt IMMEDIATE REGRET after hearing what the consequences would be for the losers of the ToP, and WHY HE FLEW INTO A RAGE OVER THE MURDER OF HIS WIFE AND SON. Goku is capable of sympathy, empathy, and grasps the concepts of right and wrong. A sociopath he is not. And, of course, the stupid assertion that Goku is a bad father and Piccolo and Vegeta are the REAL examples of fatherhood... which is also erasure of Gohan and Krillin, neither of whom assaulted their daughters, tossed them into the wilderness to fend for themselves, forced them to be fighters and face homicidal aliens at age 5,or nearly let them and their mothers fall to their deaths because they were too absorbed with finding and killing an enemy to prove their superiority. To cap it off, Vegeta and Piccolo have somehow inexplicably become the “symbols of hope” in the series, trying to stop an evil, unhinged Goku from annihilating them all, and he asserts that Vegeta became the REAL hero during... the Cell Saga? The arc where Vegeta literally helped Cell become perfect? And was the hero in the arc where he sold his soul to Babidi, helped resurrect Buu, AND murdered hundreds, if not thousands, of innocent people JUST to make Goku mad enough to fight him because he refused to? You know, the thing you actually used as a point of criticism for... GOKU, and are clearly abdicating Vegeta of any and all responsibility for?  Folks, I’ve seen some bad takes in my day, but it’s very, VERY rare to find one this unhinged and frankly inept in one place. This is nuclear levels of Bad Takes here. Just... wow. 

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH41

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

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Chapter 41: Star Death Reality Show (XXIV)

For a long time, Qi Leren couldn’t find the ability to think.

He seemed to be a poor man petrified by magic, just sitting in a chair, watching the system prompt gradually disappear from the screen.

Ning Zhou was dead?

Dead. Qi Leren couldn't put this cold word on Ning Zhou. Even if it was just in his imagination, he couldn’t accept it.

His trachea seemed to be blocked, and Qi Leren felt that he had returned to the sea, feeling the pain caused by suffocation in the increasingly strong water pressure. He couldn't breathe and couldn't escape. The oppressive darkness and death surrounded him, tormented him, and made him unable to endure for even one second.

He had to go to Ning Zhou! He had to bring him back from Purgatory!

He had always been used to waiting passively, indulging his interia and dependence as he waited, comforting himself. This was the best way, but he didn't expect that some people, some things, he couldn’t wait for. The anxious sense of urgency weighed heavily on his shoulders; just like when he had used the Prophet's Heart, a huge clock kept counting down behind him.

Counting the seven days after his death, today was the twenty-fourth day after his resurrection. There were only five days left for him. He had to hurry back and bring Ning Zhou back, otherwise...

Qi Leren couldn't think of what followed.

Don don don— When a knock on the door sounded, Qi Leren was startled and hurriedly closed the laptop. At the moment it closed, it disappeared out of thin air. Thankfully he had turned off the invisible camera that followed him, otherwise he really didn't know how to explain all this.

A skill card was lying quietly on the computer desk. Qi Leren had no time to think about it. He put the skill card in the item bar and asked loudly, "Who’s there?"

When the door opened, Du Yue stood outside looking surprised. "You’re really here?"

This was a strange question. Qi Leren felt strange when he heard it: "How did you know I was here?"

Du Yue scratched his head, a little muddled and a little confused, and said, "There’s a very strange gentleman... I don't know where he came from... He showed me the way and said that you were here."

A chill penetrated Qi Leren's back and cold sweat flowed down. Qi Leren's hand was shaking. If he didn't deliberately control it, his voice would tremble. The familiar fear returned to him; even if he just thought the name of that person, he would feel terrible.

A person who suddenly appeared and knew him like the back of his hand, a person who could access and even interfere with the copy, a… terrible person.

He had come here again for the secret hidden in this laptop.

"Where is he?" Qi Leren asked slowly.

"He said he would be at the lowest level of the institute. Qianbei, is he a survivor of this planet? Did they not leave here, but lived underground or something?" Du Yue, who didn't know Su He, never thought of the man’s real identity, but thought he was a part of this copy.

Qi Leren took a deep breath, shook his head, and got up and walked out of the room.

"What about the others? Have you spoken with them?" Qi Leren asked.

"We split up just now," Du Yue said in a depressed way.

Qi Leren didn't ask any more questions and walked quickly towards the safe corridor. Since Su He wanted to see him, he had to bite the bullet and go, but this time he had no Easter Eggs. If Su He made him choose between life and death again...

I should make an agreement with him, Qi Leren thought. He absolutely couldn’t die here. If he died, Ning Zhou would be fated to follow that terrible path, leading to the abyss of death. He couldn't watch Ning Zhou die.

If Ning Zhou became a demon, he would accompany him.

If the world wouldn’t let them be together, then they would go to hell together.

He wasn’t afraid, because nothing was more terrible than losing him.

But if Su He insisted on killing him... Qi Leren stopped on the stairs, turned to Du Yue, and said, "I have something to ask of you."

"Qianbei, please say it, I’ll do it!" Along the way, because of Qi Leren’s dignified expression, Du Yue felt nervous, thinking he may have made some big mistake. Now that he heard that his qianbei wanted to make a request, all he had to do was clap a hand to his chest and promise.

"Don't follow me later, do everything possible to protect your own safety. If I die, go back to the Village of Dusk and find a woman named Chen Baiqi..." As Qi Leren spoke, he took out a pen and paper and quickly wrote about Ning Zhou, then handed it to Du Yue.

Du Yue opened his mouth and looked ready to cry. "Is it that dangerous? Qianbei, don’t go!"

"There are some things that can't be escaped," Qi Leren said. Su He had come in person, and it would take him only minutes to kill everyone in the copy. He didn't even have the cards to negotiate with him. It was simply a fantasy to avoid him. "If you find Dr. Lu, don't get separated from him. Although he’s often confused, he’s still very lucky. That person should not be interested in killing you... I’m leaving, you should be careful."

Du Yue gawked at Qi Leren. He really was crying. A big and strong boy who was only eighteen years old could not hold back his tears when faced with life or death, and he took Qi Leren's hand with a face of snot and tears and refused to let go.

Qi Leren had to comfort him with a white lie: "Don't worry, this is only the worst case. Generally, I’m lucky and won't die."

Du Yue was dumbfounded: "But Dr. Lu said that your luck level falls below the alphabet."

“………………”

Qi Leren, who had been exposed, finally just pushed Du Yue out of the stairwell and continued to go down. As the floor numbers dropped, he entered deeper and deeper underground, and the surrounding air became colder and colder. Even wearing temperature regulating clothes, it still made Qi Leren feel stiff all over.

As he walked, Qi Leren looked at the skill card that had been left after the laptop disappeared.

[Sophisticated Lawyer: A cunning lawyer should avoid the traps in the contract and do everything possible to help their client, who has paid enough in legal fees to avoid contracts that are not beneficial to them. If you sign a contract with anyone after equipping this skill card, that contract can't bind you, but a payment of 130 survival days will be consumed. Remaining usages: 1/1]

Qi Leren's face turned green. He worked hard with the Devil of Fraud to save 147 survival days, but this would take 130 days at once?! If this skill card was used and his identity was revealed in this copy... Very good, he would be directly obliterated because of insufficient survival days.

But he knew in his heart that if "it" would give him this thing, it was already hinting that he… he would need this skill card.

Just like the Easter Egg.

Qi Leren looked at this skill card with mixed feelings and inserted it into the card slot.

He had already reached the 13th floor underground. The depth of this underground research institute was really shocking. At present, he faced the exit of the stairwell. Qi Leren hesitated outside the door for a while before fearfully pushing it open.

Ahead of him, there was a cold and featureless metal corridor, dark and lacquered, and the range of a flashlight was limited. Where light couldn't reach, the deep darkness was like a beast's open jaws, waiting for him to trap himself.

Qi Leren let out a mouthful of hot air that condensed into a thin cloud of white smoke in the extremely low temperature air.

He stepped out of the stairwell.

Light suddenly hit his eye, and the sudden light blinded his eyes with whiteness, but the fresh air and warm temperature from the tip of the nose made him realize that he was no longer in the cold underground research institute.

Sure enough, when his sight returned to normal, the ethereal and clean world around him made him hold his mouth tightly shut.

The blue sky was endless, and there was one white island after another floating around him, unable to discern if they were white clouds or floating islands. Pigeons flew from the direction where the sun was rising, and the whole world was immersed in the hope of dawn. Who could have guessed that this was a Devil’s field?

Qi Leren stood on the tower of the floating island, where he had once come and had a friendly conversation with the Devil of Fraud.

At that time, Su He had said that this was the Village of Dawn in his memory, and he had projected the ideal hometown into his own field. Qi Leren didn't know whether this sentence is true or not, but if he thought deeply, he couldn't help but feel fear for the truth of the Village of Dawn—was the so-called Village of Dawn itself not this Devil’s field?

"Good morning, lost lamb." A hoarse and charming voice came from behind Qi Leren, which scared Qi Leren into turning around quickly.

On this terrace that had been empty only a few seconds ago, there appeared a woman holding a white porcelain tray, as if she had appeared out of thin air.

This was the sexiest woman Qi Leren had ever seen. This was so even though her hair was tied in a meticulous bun and she was dressed in a high-necked black dress, her whole body covered—only her face was exposed, and even her hands were wearing a pair of black silk gloves. Even if a naked woman was standing there, she would not attract more attention than her, because no one would have the same reserved yet affectionate smile as her.

"Let me introduce myself. My name is Ruth. It's a very common name, isn't it? In the demon world’s capital city, if you shout Ruth casually, at least ten women will turn around. So I prefer others to call me the Witch of Lust." Ruth walked lightly to the round table and sat down, waving to Qi Leren again. "Sit down, the little pet His Majesty is in charge of keeps causing trouble again. If you ask me, it really needs to be changed to a bigger cage."

"What pet?" Qi Leren asked cautiously.

Ruth crossed her hands under her chin—this action was really like her master—and hesitated: "A goldfish."

A goldfish? Qi Leren was at a loss. What trouble could a goldfish make? Jumping out of the goldfish bowl? It was worth Su He handling it himself?

A goldfish bowl? This word suddenly awakened Qi Leren's reluctant memory. It suddenly occurred to him that Su He had been called away by a voice when he had revealed his identity and killed him. At that time, Qi Leren had lost blood and couldn’t see clearly, but his ears had still heard the voice. What were the exact words? They seemed to be...

[...The goldfish bowl has raised an alarm. It’s very likely that it will escape again...]

Wasn't what lived in the goldfish bowl a goldfish?

It was going to escape, and again? That is to say, it had escaped before?

What on earth was this thing?

Lust calmly poured tea for Qi Leren, and there were three tea sets on the table. Her and Qi Leren’s cups were already filled, but the empty one still waited for its bearer.

"He always makes us wait so long. If you don't mind, we can talk casually." Lust stirred the black tea in the porcelain cup with a delicate silver spoon, but her eyes never left Qi Leren for a moment.

"...What is there to talk about?" Qi Leren asked warily.

"Let's talk about men. Women like me and men like you always like this topic," the Witch of Lust laughed.

"..." What do you mean, "men like you"? Qi Leren was a little depressed.

"What do you think of His Majesty?" the Witch of Lust asked wistfully.

Could he say that he thought he was a deeply-scheming pervert? After Qi Leren learned Su He’s true face, it made his hair stand on end when he recalled the little things from when they used to get along. This feeling was probably like if he had found out an old friend of many years was actually a serial murderer, and that he was his next target.

However, Qi Leren couldn't make such comments to the witch about her boss, lest she become angry from his impudence and teach him to be a man in 10,000 ways. He had to breathe a sullen sigh, consider the sentence carefully and thoughtfully, and after deleting a few-hundred-word-long negative review, provide a small truth that wouldn’t offend anyone: "He’s very handsome."

Lust giggled with joy and reached out to touch Qi Leren's cheek: "You’re so cute, I like you a little."

A sigh came from behind Qi Leren: "Ruth, I asked you to dress properly and take care of the guest, not flirt with him."

The voice struck Qi Leren's head like thunder and lightning. He suddenly jumped up from his chair, then felt that he had overreacted, so he sat back down in embarrassment. The footsteps behind him were getting closer and closer, passing his seat and sitting down in the empty chair opposite Qi Leren.

Su He wore what appeared to be a riding suit, as if he had just arrived by horseback, and he took off his white gloves and held them in one hand. He looked like a human being, handsome and gentle. He didn't seem to notice Qi Leren’s blunder, and he forgot his former unhappiness. After sipping a mouthful of black tea that Ruth poured for him, he put down his cup and smiled, saying to Qi Leren who was on pins and needles:

"On this beautiful night, are you interested in making a deal with me?"

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[airgetlamhh]

Thoughts on Lostbelt 2

Longpost ahead.

So.

Lostbelt 2. Finally played it after so long, and this will contain spoilers.

To make sure everyone knows what they’re getting into, I’ll give the thesis statement right here: Lostbelt 2 is bad. 

The entire time I played through the story, I kept waiting for it to pick up. I kept waiting for it to shrug off the poor pacing, the deus ex machinas, the random things just happening for the convenience of the plot. I kept waiting for it to shrug off the poor characterization, the constant telling instead of showing, the moral myopia. It never did. 

From nearly the very start to finish, Lostbelt 2 is bad. 

We start off fairly fine! A desperate ploy to sneak through the Lostbelt to meet up with the allies we’ve learned about, the Wandering Sea, interrupted by a Lostbelt Servant attacking us with the intent of stealing the Paper Moon that allows us to perform Zero Sails. All of that is a decent setup!

And then we’re told how strong this Saber is. How incredible they are. How their swordplay surpasses anything else they’ve ever seen, how they desperately wish that Musashi was there, how no no, he didn’t use his sword, he only parried! Things that Sherlock Holmes observes, not Mashu, not the one who’s actually been fighting for two years now, so Mashu seems borderline useless. Holmes figures out it’s Sigurd because...he uses a sword in a Scandinavian Lostbelt, and he figured out that Holmes used magic because Holmes fire magic lasers at him. From this, Holmes is able to pinpoint Sigurd’s identity, and that’s just the setup for the rest of the chapter, really. 

To be specific, what I mean is that we will constantly be told how incredible someone is with very little evidence, and the plot will bend and warp to make certain things happen. 

The scene does exactly one good thing, which is the foreshadowing of Surtr. Coming into it knowing that aspect allowed me to appreciate little bits like Surtr talking about Heroic Spirits like he wasn’t one, and Surtr not being able to kill Mashu because Sigurd resisted it. But that’s about all that was good in the scene, and all it really does is set up a consistent thing of Surtr being one of the only good parts - until he isn’t, of course.

I’m going to shift here from specifics to characters, because otherwise I’d be rehashing the entire story and I don’t have the time or effort required for that. That being said, it is difficult to decide where to start, so I’ll go right to the very building blocks of the story, the themes. 

Lostbelt 2 is, very obviously, attempting to have a theme of different kinds of love throughout the story. Part of this is because it’s very much set up like an otome game that the author Hikaru Sakurai would write, with Ophelia in the center, but it’s a more general theme too, with Skadi and the others all building up towards it. Now, love is an absolutely wonderful thing to build your themes around, exploring and examining it can be great for stories. Beasts themselves do that, examining different varieties of genuine, but toxic love that allow them to be well-meaning monsters.

The problem is that Lostbelt 2 does not engage with these themes on anything but a surface level. Skadi represents maternal love, so she constantly talks about how everyone is her children and how she’s their mother. No examination of the desire to see her children grow, the pain she feels when they fight, the struggle of forcing herself to cling so tightly knowing that it’s suffocating them and going to kill them before they reach 26. 

Napoleon represents passionate love, so he flirts with every woman he sees. No examination of why he’s so passionate or what drives him to burn so brightly, beyond a token mention that for some reason when he’s summoned he’s driven to seek out a lover, another aspect of things happening to serve the plot. 

Sigurd and Brynhildr represent true, romantic love, so they act mushy the entire chapter from the moment the real Sigurd appears. Now, don’t get me wrong, I liked their scenes a lot and I’m happy that they chose that portrayal instead of the one I was afraid of where it was yandere jokes day in day out. But there’s no engagement with the fundamentals of their love, nothing that tests it, even the existing complications with Brynhildr’s tragic summoning are swept away with a single line of “I can resist them better now maybe because my saint graph is broken”, so ultimately there’s no conflict whatsoever. And sure, that’s nice, but it’s not very good if you’re trying to build your story around a theme of love. 

Next, Surtr, who represents obsessive, dangerous love. I honestly actually think Surtr’s done well, even if the love he happens to represent is the least positive one. Surtr is capable of only one thing, destruction, and when he fell for Ophelia in that moment where she saw him and he saw her, he decided that if he ever had the chance, he would repay her the only way he knew how: allowing her to watch as he destroyed everything. When he’s summoned, he acts basically like the possessive one in an otome game, constantly talking about how Ophelia is his woman, getting angry when Napoleon flirts with her, spending most of his time pushing things between them as far as they can go etc. etc. I’m not particularly a fan of how his desire to repay Ophelia battling against his singular purpose transformed him into a typical possessive bastard boyfriend, but it’s at least engaged with on a deeper level.

Finally, Ophelia. She’s the otome game protagonist here, born into an controlling family and finally freed, hiding a secret special power, beloved by almost all the men involved in the chapter while she’s harboring feelings for someone else, even has the typical friendship route with Mashu going on. Her love is a love that she doesn’t acknowledge, but that’s all it is. It’s never engaged with beyond the fact that she clearly loves Kirschtaria but insists she doesn’t, and her final scene as she dies is Mashu telling her that yes, she did love Kirschtaria. That’s all. 

For a theme of love that’s supposedly woven into the Lostbelt, it’s barely examined at all. It’s not well written, and in comparison to Lostbelt 1′s theme of what it means to live in a world where the strong devour the weak and how deeply it examined and engaged with that, it’s a genuine disappointment.

Now, to move onto the plot, it’s...in the abstract, it’s fine. Chaldea is intercepted and forced to fight in the Lostbelt and ends up dragged into the overarching ploy by Surtr to release himself and burn everything. That’s a perfectly fine story, but the problem is that when you get to the moment-to-moment stuff, it falls apart completely. 

Skadi is constantly talked up as this incredibly powerful true goddess, not merely a Divine Spirit, and we know she can see and hear our every move because of her snow. How does the story work around this borderline omniscience within her Lostbelt? Skadi just decides not to do anything about Chaldea with zero rhyme or reason. We need to sneak into the palace and avoid alerting the guards, except Skadi already knows exactly where we are, except that doesn’t matter because we need to sneak in for some reason. We get captured with no plan to escape, and it just so happens that not only was Skadi keeping a Divine Spirit amalgamation locked in the dungeons too, but that she can piggyback on you making a contract with Napoleon (pure dumb luck you hadn’t done it before) and force a connection with you too, and then cast spells to hide you while you escape. Skadi knows we’re trying to free Brynhildr, who is the sole threat to Sigurd and Skadi’s own Valkyries in the entire Lostbelt? She just decides to do nothing at all. 

So much of the plot happens because either Skadi makes terrible decisions to do nothing, even though she knows Chaldea is there to destroy her entire world, or it happens because random shit goes on that couldn’t have been planned for like Sitonai. Shit like Surtr suddenly becoming Fafnir and being able to use the Evil Dragon Phenomenon to brainwash Ophelia somehow, like Ophelia’s Mystic Eye being able to do anything the plot demands, even when it explicitly goes against its existing capabilities like rewinding time on Sigurd’s wounds, like Bryn and Surtr somehow being able to resist the effects of her eye with no buildup or explanation. It’s poorly written in terms of the exact events that happen, and that all culminates in Skadi’s one cool moment, where she declares she’s going to kill the seven billion we fight for for the sake of her ten thousand...and then right after, it reveals that Skadi was going easy on us and refused to use her runes of instant death for no reason even though she was fighting for the survival of her entire world. The moment to moment plot is not good, and neither is what comes next, the worldbuilding.

In Skadi’s Lostbelt, half the world is covered in Surtr’s flames, while the other half is blanketed in Skadi’s snow. Where the two areas meet are the only places where life can grow, and so Skadi set up villages there. Unfortunately, there isn’t enough food for everyone, so she enforces strict population control: if you are not the mother or father of a child by 15, you are sent away to be killed by the giants. If you are the mother or father of a child, you are sent away to be killed at 25 instead. Through this tragic method, Skadi enforces a limit of 100 villages with 100 people, a total population of 10000. This is all fine. 

But take a closer look at what we actually see, and this falls apart. First, the giants. The giants are immortal and never need to eat. They do nothing but sleep all day and attack any human that comes close to them. Later, it’s revealed that they’ll attack any heat source including Valkyries, except we know that’s not true. Giants never attack each other, they never attack and destroy any of the plant life around them, they never attack the Lostbelt tree seeds, they even fight alongside mass-produced Valkyries before it’s revealed that Skadi and the three originals can mind-control them! They exist only to destroy, but Skadi can control them with her masks and indeed uses them as labour, keeping them chained up in her castle to be brought out and controlled as needed, or using them to guard Brynhildr’s castle. 

Worst of all, the first time we meet anyone in the chapter, it’s Gerda, who is sneaking out of her village to go to the massive liveable area close to Village 23. This area happens to be the only place she can go to get medicinal herbs that she needs or one of the people in her village will die in childbirth. This area is also full of giants, who have not destroyed it despite being fertile and full of life and heat, and who are allowed to take this place that could be used to grow more food for humans who need it, and simply stay there doing nothing. 

Now, this is where I thought the game would engage with things. How Skadi, in professing her love for all her children, is actually being cruel and unfair. They certainly set it up in the conversations she has, where she casually mentions how humans must die for her coexistence to continue. Skadi chooses to keep the giants alive despite the fact that they are all braindead and can do nothing but kill and destroy the moment their masks are removed. She chooses to keep them alive even though it comes at the expense of the humans who must die when the giants never make that same sacrifice. She chooses to allow them fertile land even though they cannot farm nor do they need food, and in doing so deprive the humans of potentially living longer, having more supplies to do so. She makes these strange choices and then later reveals she can control the giants to do her bidding, and it all seems to fall into place. 

What we see from how she’s characterized early on is that the system is unfair and Skadi is unwilling to change, because it benefits her tremendously. Gerda’s village didn’t have enough herbs to save the children forced to breed by 15, and despite Skadi’s omniscience letting her know that Gerda had snuck out and was trying to save a life, she did nothing. There was no system in place to beg a Valkyrie to get these herbs, and no indication whatsoever that Skadi would use her powers to control the giants to save Gerda’s life. The picture painted is someone who cares about humanity not out of true care, but simply out of obligation. Those who disobey her rules, even for good reasons, are left to die by the engines of destruction she keeps alive.

That’s not the story it tells later on, though. Skadi, portrayed from the start as this all-powerful goddess with complete control over everything, is revealed to be far weaker than we thought, and far less monstrous. Ignore all the times she did control the giants, she actually can’t do it all that well. Ignore all the times she declared she would not allow anyone she loved to be killed, but chose not to act to tell her Valkyries or her giants or anything else to save either Chaldea or Gerda. Ignore the evidence we see on screen that there’s more land that’s simply taken over by the giants, Skadi can only make those initial 100 villages and can’t make any more. Skadi is not bad. Skadi did the best she could. Skadi is morally right. 

Please love Skadi, there’s no complicated moral quandary here, she’s just Good.

Comparisons to Lostbelt 1 are impossible to avoid. Both have the same basic cause, a calamity that was impossible to predict and impossible to avert. The stagnation that dooms a Lostbelt created by the kings in question in their desperation to survive. Ivan turned humanity into the Yaga and created a world of strength, where progress is impossible because everyone in his new world was too busy devouring each other to work together. Skadi created a world of weakness, where progress is impossible because she limited the population to avoid everyone dying out. There is, however, one crucial difference between the two. Not in terms of story, not in terms of characters, not in terms of themes. 

“Your existence itself has already become a grave sin.”

That one line, spoken to Ivan, is the biggest difference between how the story engages things. In both Lostbelts, Ivan and Skadi did horrible things and made horrible choices because they had to, for the sake of survival. Ivan twisted humanity into monsters that lost capacity for mercy or empathy, while Skadi forced brutal population control and careless death on humanity because of her refusal to allow the giants to be destroyed. Both of them did horrible things, but only one is held to account by the story.

What Ivan did was evil, and the story recognises it. It doesn’t accept the excuse that it was all necessary for survival, because that’s irrelevant. It’s evil regardless. This same sentiment should have been expressed with Skadi, but it’s not. Ivan is condemned, but Skadi is absolved. She had no choice. She did the best she could. After building her up as all-powerful, the end of the story instead destroys her agency and power in its haste to prevent any kind of responsibility falling on Skadi’s head. Even to the very end, where she declares that she’ll kill all seven billion lives we fight for for the sake of her ten thousand, she holds back and allows us to win, despite how it butchers her character.

The biggest irony in all this is that Ivan’s world was worse than hers in ways. There was no way for the blizzards to stop, no meat besides for the demonic beasts. Crops couldn’t grow, and instead of living in peace, the Yaga were constantly tormented and killed by the Oprichniki. There were no liveable areas like there are in Lostbelt 2, no merciful ruler that sees all, and controls the greatest threats, no peaceful villages where food can be grown. There’s far more justification for Ivan to claim he had no choice and that he did all he did for survival, because it’s hard to see what his choices were. But Skadi? Skadi intentionally does not act and intentionally allows suffering and pain to come to her children, both actively by not saving Gerda, and passively by allowing the giants to take land they don’t need. Despite this, Skadi is absolved, because the story desperately wants her to be a tragic waifu that you love.

There’s lots more I could talk about. How Sitonai was pointless and existed only for a pathetic FSN reference. How Gerda was a cowardly and manipulative piece of writing compared to Patxi. How Ophelia’s story of always being told what to do is resolved not by her taking the step to freedom herself, but being told to free herself by someone else. The constant repetition that plagues the chapter, the weirdly prevalent sexism that everyone gets in on when it comes to Ophelia’s love life, the nonsense of the final battle itself, the absolute nonsense of Skadi being Scáthach-Skadi. I could even talk about how I’d fix the chapter, because boy howdy there’s a lot there. 

There’s lots more I could talk about, but this is already very long, and I think it speaks for itself. Obviously asks are available if anyone wants me to examine them in more detail, but for now, I’ll finish off with one last reminder.

Lostbelt 2 is bad.  

[whump-town]

The Narcissist

My tasteful whump approach of: what if Tobias Hankel had made good on his word and come to kill Aaron Hotchner?

No major warnings apply, whump, angst, and sweet, sweet fluff

Word Count: 5k

If Aaron Hotchner smoked, he’d be blowing through a pack of cigarettes right about now. Gideon had benched him. The older man had taken one look at him and pulled him aside. He’s a nervous wreck. The tremor in his hands visible as his voice had cracked, asking the team to just broadcast what they each thought were his worst characteristics. Gideon let him drive his point home-- Aaron is many things but a narcissist has never been one of them-- and put him in a place where there was only one right answer. Gideon had told him no one would blame him if he couldn’t do this.

“It’s okay if you can’t handle it.”

His stomach cramps at the thought of those words.

Narcissists.

Bully.

Drill Sergeant.

Sexist.

Weak.

Leaning with his weight on his left arm, pinned above his head, Hotch vomits against the side of the house. His knees shake and tears he can’t control the tears that roll down his cheek. He bites back a sob as he falls to one knee, nearly landing in the puddle at his feet. They’re right, he concludes, shaking so hard he’s not certain he’s going to be able to get back up. He’s nothing but a bully. Worthless. Weak.

“Aaron Hotchner?”

Hotch looks up to see a dark shadow approaching him. He sniffles, straightening as his heart pounds. His subconscious drawing up his shields. Something’s not right. “Who are--” he jerks back, blinking dumbly as his brain fails to comprehend what’s just happened. He’s looking up at the sky, flat on his back. A gunshot. He coughs and gags as the thick taste of copper coats his tongue. He’s been shot.

“I condemn you,” the deep voice rasps into the dark.

Hotch just blinks, ragged wheezes leaving his mouth. He’s looking down the barrel of a gun.

“2 Corinthians 5:10 For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, that each one may receive the things done in the body, according to what he has done, whether good or bad." The hammer draws back as the sound of the old front door being thrown open rips through the night. “Every sinner must pay--” the hammer strikes.

--------------

Derek finds Reid.

He’s sitting on the floor with his hands bound in front of him, just waiting for whatever torture comes next. When his eyes land on them, he lets out a broken sob. Drawing his feet to his chest, he shakes his head. “No,” he rasps, burying his head in his knees. “No. No. No!” He starts to rock, keeping his eyes squeezed shut and his body drawn tight.

“Spencer?” Gideon tries to crouch near him but Reid kicks out and pushes himself away.

“No,” he cries. His eyes meet Gideon’s bloodshot and red-rimmed. “No,” there are tears pouring down his eyes. “I killed him,” he rasps. “I killed him, didn’t I?” His tone shifts. His body… Spencer Reid isn’t their rookie. He’s not their kid. He’s a shell. Broken. His voice rasps and breaks as he pleads-- the truth. He needs the truth. “Gideon, you have to tell me. Did I kill him?”

Gideon shakes his head-- oh. “Derek!” his voice is a bark, a command. It’s a level of control and demand that Morgan hasn’t seen or heard of since Adrain Bale. It snaps Morgan’s attention to the man though. “Get Aaron and Garcia on the phone and get out of here. Hankel’s going to them.”

Morgan freezes in shock, processing exactly what that means. “He’s…” his eyes dart to Reid. The younger man’s eyes bouncing between Gideon and Morgan, trying so desperately to figure out the answer to his question. So Morgan doesn’t say it, he just nods and turns around shouting out for Emily. But, by God, he thinks it. He thinks it and it makes his stomach twist and his blood cold: Tobias Hankel is going to kill Hotch.

Garcia doesn’t answer his calls. 

Three calls. 

All to voicemail. 

Morgan drives through the yard, cutting time and not giving a damn. He pulls right up alongside the police cruiser and an ambulance. “Hey,” he shouts, throwing his door open and leaving it as he runs to the first cop he sees. He pulls out his badge. “My team,” he says. “We’re working a case here. Where are Agents Hotchner and Garcia?”

The cop looks him up and down, obviously displeased with being interrupted from his leaning and watching as everyone around them works. “I don’t know,” says with a shrug. “We got some guy waiting to get picked up by the coroner.”

Morgan curses in frustration. “This isn’t some joke to me, man.” He looks around, “is there anything else you can tell me?”

Before the cop can say anything further, Emily shouts Morgan’s. She’s jogging up through the grass, moving away from the crowd of EMTs, officers, and other jackets standing by the side of the house. Motioning for him to join her, he steps back towards the car. Following. 

“Hotch and Garcia are headed towards the hospital,” she shouts. “They’re not sure Hotch is gonna make it.”

--------------

Penelope Garcia stands completely alone. 

Around her, the emergency room buzzes with its flooded life. Such a stark, dark comparison to her friend. His still chest barred for anyone to see as doctors lean over him. The wound is still oozing blood. A dark vacuuming wound. Sucking. He’s as pale as death and silent. He’s not crying in pain. His dark eyes aren’t scanning every inch of space he can see. 

He’s still and silent. 

From here, she can see the wounds from Adrian Bale’s bomb. She’s only known him since that bomb. That day.

“This is Penelope Garcia with the Federal Bureau of Investigation,” she’s still new to the job. A greenie, the other agents playfully taunt. She doesn’t find it all that funny but this is better than federal prison. “How can I help you?” She’s got one hand holding the weight of her head, the other clicking her pen lazily against the desktop.

She’s not special here. She’s got nothing. She hates this job.

“Miss Garcia,” a weak voice greets. “I don’t know if you remember,” the caller coughs, wet and thick. That’s when she hears the wheezes. “I’m afraid I haven’t been a very good boss but it’s Agent Hotchner.”

She remembers. He’s who’s she’s supposed to be working with. That is before she got pulled to work at this desk all day doing nothing. She’s got about three more months of this garbage before she can be trusted with any of the real stuff. Before she can go work with the teams on the units-- mostly, to work with Hotch and his team. Of which, she still hasn’t met.

“I remember,” she says. She’s not sure what else she’s supposed to say.

He chuckles on the other end but it ends in an awful sounding cough. “Sorry,” he wheezes. “I’m afraid…” he takes a deep breath. “Have you seen the news?”

“No, sir.”

He hums. “Well,” he says, “we’ve gotten ourselves into a spot of trouble.”

From what she can tell, she feels that’s probably an understatement. Through his silence, the short pauses between his quick, shallow breathing, she can hear the commotion of a hospital. She can even hear his heart monitor. An undergrad degree in biology on a track to medical school doesn’t get you much in cyberspace as a hacker but she knows, from the sound of that monitor, somethings not okay.

“I was just wondering if you could do me a favor?”

His voice sounds so soft, nearly subdued almost as if he’s falling asleep, that she can’t say no. “Of course, sir.” She’s really only seen him a handful of times. The first time after he recruited her and several times in passing. Every time she can remember seeing him in the hall or in the parking lot he’d always offered a small, shy wave. Despite her frustrations with being placed on desk duty, she doesn’t hate him.

“I, ugh,” he clears his throat. His voice has softened. He’s certainly losing his battle with consciousness. “Haley,” he rasps her name. “My wife,” he clarifies. “I--I lost my phone and I just want to talk to her.” The hurt in his voice, the desperation breaks her heart. “...hit my head,” he slurs. “I...I--I hit my head and I can’t really… dialing the numbers is hard.”

The man just wants to talk to his wife. He just wants some comfort.

“Kind of silly,” he mumbles. “Could dial here but couldn’t remember the home one. The--ugh-- couldn’t remember the home line.”

She smiles and starts to do as he asks but then remembers the limited information she’s got right now. There’s no way she can access his file, let alone get to his personal information to find his wife’s number. “Sir,” she says, feeling tears start to pool in her eyes. She hates to do this because she wants to help him so badly. “I don’t have access to that information.”

They sit in silence for a long pause.

Hotch is struggling to hold on and thinking hurts but he’s sure there’s something she can do about that still… “Break a rule for me,” he says, tone playful. “I know you hate it down there. Hack my file.” He sniffles, the sound of sheets shifting blocking the line as he moves in discomfort. “Please, Penelope?”

Oh… how is she supposed to say no to that?

“You’d better have my back when they chew me out for this,” she says, setting into the task at hand. It’s pretty easy. Nothing like hacking the database months ago. She’s got half the work handed to her.

“Always,” he rasps.

She finds it easy enough. “Alright,” she says. “I’m dialing her right now.” They both sit in silence as the ringing fills the line. Two rings turn into three and she feels her heartbreaking for this poor man. The line clicks to an end and she smiles sadly at the sound of her much healthier boss’s voice greets the end call. Haley, she’s assuming, cuts in and ends the recording.

“I’m so sorry, sir.”

“ ‘s okay,” he slurs. “She’s… She’s pro’ly gonna call back ‘vently.”

Chewing at her lip nervously she offers, “I can stay. If you’d like. I’ll talk to you.”

He chuckles softly and she winces as it ends in more uncomfortable shifting and more of those terrible wheezes. “...don’t hafta.” He chokes on a breath and their conversation takes a pause as a nurse steps in. Her soft voice telling Hotch that he needs to rest and the doctor’s ordered some mild sedatives.

“Can’t,” he whispers to the nurse. “I’m talk’n to my friend Penelope.”

She smiles, blushing.

The nurse responds in kind that Garcia can stay but he still needs to get some rest.

“She’s right, sir.” She cuts in. “I’ll stay and talk to you until fall asleep, okay?”

She can hear the hiss of oxygen which is good because his breathing was really concerning her. When he comes back he sounds better but like he’s half-asleep. That’s probably for the best. “You’re supposed to be on my side,” he says.

“I am,” she responds. “You need some sleep though. For your head.”

He hums in agreeance. “Yeah,” he whispers. “I hit my head.”

“I know.”

She’d talked to him that day until the phone died, even though he only stayed awake three minutes after that. Leaving that day from the office, she’d seen what he’d meant about the news and the “spot of trouble” he’d gotten into. Six agents were dead. She’d cried, right there in the bullpen, for a man she hardly knew.

Since then, she’s really grown to love him. He’s her friend. She loves him.

“Baby girl?”

Garcia turns around and sees Morgan, Emily, and JJ. She stays where she is, tears falling down her face, and leans right into the hugs they pull her into. She needs all the comfort she can get. But the hugging only lasts for so long. There are questions they need to be answered and she’s the only one with the answers.

They give her time. Twenty minutes. Just enough time for Gideon and Reid to come to the hospital

“Okay,” Morgan holds his hands around Garcia’s. Keeping her hands cupped around the warm styrofoam surrounding the shitty hospital coffee Gideon had bought them all. It keeps her hands from shaking so hard. “Can you tell me what happened now?’

Garcia nods and sniffles. She glances up at him once, shying away from his kind gaze. “Hotch went outside,” she starts, “right after you guys left.” Forcing herself to take a steadying breath, she’s able to continue on. Trying very hard to keep her composer. She knows it’s important she tells someone. “I could hear him getting sick,” she whispers because it feels like something she shouldn’t be saying. “You know how he is,” she says, looking up at Morgan. “When he gets like that? So nervous and anxious that he just…”

Morgan nods. He’s seen Hotch work his nerves up like that many times. It’s hard to tell how many times Morgan’s tailed Hotch outside, standing to the side as the man fails to work through an anxiety attack. He’s gonna kill himself one of these days getting worked up like that. Won’t ever let anyone help him, either.

Garcia had wanted to help him tonight. She just… she couldn’t stand to see him like that. Shaking so hard and pale. He’d excused himself after about ten minutes of the two of them just sitting in silence, listening to the other’s going over the plan to get Reid.

“I couldn’t see him like that,” Garcia says softly. “I wanted to help,” her voice cracks and she starts to shake again. “When I--” her breath catches.

“Alright,” Morgan stops her. He rubs her thumbs over her hands. “Take your time. You don’t have to rush.”

Garcia nods and takes a moment, breathing in through her nose. “I’m okay,” she says with a tight smile. Morgan doesn’t believe it. She can tell. Squeezing his hand she repeats herself. “I mean it.” Besides, what comes next is the hard part.

Clearing her throat, she manages to continue. “I was coming outside when I heard the first gunshot,” her voice is already shaking again. “I don’t know-- I didn’t really know what to do? I mean, Hotch has a gun and I don’t so… but I didn’t want something to be wrong and leave him all by himself.” She sniffles a little, laughing sadly at the irony of her own words.

Morgan brushes the tear that falls down her cheek away.

“When I got out there…” she stops, just thinking about what she’d seen.

The porch only had one lightbulb which hung from a strand of wires just hardly holding on. Still, as she stepped out the low light had shown her all she needed to see. The dark silhouette of Hotch’s face and his long body on the ground. There was blood on his face and more pooling onto his white dress shirt. Spreading and falling down the sides of his chest. So much blood.

There was a second man. He’d started talking like he didn’t even see her.

“I condemn you.”

She’d been frozen, in both fear and confusion.

She hadn’t done anything until she saw him pulling the hammer back. Aiming to shoot Hotch again. “Hey,” she’d run at the man with everything she had. Not for a moment did she think about what would happen if the man turned the gun to her. What would have happened then? If he’d shot her?

There’d be two bodies in the morgue.

“Hotch isn’t dead.”

Garcia flinches and looks up at Morgan in confusion. “What,” she rasps, softly.

“You said--” he frowns in confusion. “You said there would be two bodies in the morgue but Hotch isn’t dead. He’s still in surgery.” He leaves out how grim things are looking. That losing Hotch will set off a domino effect. They’ll lose Reid and Gideon isn’t enough. They’ll lose the team. The only family some of them have ever had.

Oh. She nods. Right, no, she knew that. That’s easy for him to say though. He hadn’t placed his hands over the gaping hole in Hotch’s chest. He hadn’t looked Hotch in the eyes, watching as his life blurred out. She had. She’d felt her friend’s heart slowing. Heard his breathing catch, stop, and his eyes dim. She’d been there. She’d held his hand in the ambulance.

She was right there.

She… doesn’t think he’ll make it.

“Yeah,” she whispers thickly. This time she doesn’t let Morgan brush away her tears. She hadn’t told him the worst parts. That she’d hit Tobias Hankel until he stopped moving. She’d watched his blood splatter out around him and she’d caused that.

Then she’d gone to Hotch. Her knees are still soaked with his blood. The grass had just… it was like sitting in mud. Warm mud. His eyes had searched for her in his confusion, his mouth moving to form silent words. She’d held his hand the whole time. Never leaving his side until the E.R. He’d stopped breathing in the ambulance just as it had pulled into the lot.

The worst part is that he hadn’t panicked. While everyone else in the ambulance moved with newfound vigor, he’d finally relaxed. The stress lines in his face had smoothed over and his eyes had calmed of their rapid movement. Through the chaos, he’d just looked at her and as the doctor’s pulled him away he’d squeezed her hand. And she’s still trying to figure out if he’d meant he would be okay or if she would.

“We need to get you checked out,” Morgan says, running a hand over her arm.

She looks up and shakes her head, “no. I didn’t get hurt. I promise.”

He knows she’s not hurt. The blood all over her clothes may not be hers but he’s sat in blood before too. As reassuring as it is to know it doesn’t belong to you… it’s also insanely psychologically damaging to know it belongs to someone else. Let alone that someone else being someone you love.

“I know,” he soothes. “You’re shaking pretty bad and at the very least, a nurse can get us some warm water to get this blood off. Okay?”

For the first time, she looks at the blood staining her clothes. Looking down at her shaking her hands, she sees the blood caked under her nails and dried to her skin. It makes her sick. “Okay.”

--------------

“Haley’s here.”

Emily is the first person to frown in confusion. She’s been on the team for only a few shorts months. Her relationships with them are rocky but forming. Given how tightly Hotch holds to his personal information she’s not certain but… “Haley is…” she glances to Morgan and then to Gideon when the other man doesn’t respond.

Gideon nods his head solemnly.

Emily’s heart kicks a beat, so hard she has to shake her head to regroup. Just some four hours ago Hotch had commended her on her ability to compartmentalize everything she sees and here she is shirking away because her boss's wife is here. But it’s not about some power dynamic. “But,” she swallows thickly around the tightness in her throat, “we don’t have news for her.”

Morgan stands up from his chair, eyes on the floor and back to her as he shrugs, “she knows the drill.”

A cold film of sweat covers Emily’s skin at just the thought. She knows about things that have happened for this team before she was on it. She just… it’s kind of different when she has some surface-level understanding of who they are. Even if she thinks Hotch is a dick, she doesn’t hate him. He’s better than a lot of bosses she’s had and maybe-- well, don’t hold her to it, but maybe she feels bad about the name-calling thing. Emily watches silently, unable to hear the words being shared between them. She can still see, though. The way Morgan’s hands shake as he recounts the details. Haley just… takes it. She nods along, clinically removed. She’s strong, more than she should have to be.

Turning from Morgan, Haley steps closer into the waiting room. Looking around at the others, what’s left of them. “And the rest of you,” she asks. “The rest of you are okay?”

Gideon takes on the question. He squeezes her shoulder, “Reid and Garcia are in the E.R. They’re getting there…”

Haley nods and wraps her arms around herself. She takes a steadying breath. “He’s gonna-- He’s going to want to know,” she says and Emily feels intense empathy for this woman. “You know he’s going to want to know as soon as he wakes up if they're’ okay.”

If he wakes up.

Gideon nods, “I know.”

“Okay,” Haley whispers and she’s numb, Emily realizes, as Gideon guides her to a chair. She’s numb so she doesn’t break. “I would--” Haley grabs Gideon’s hand. “I would like to see Spencer and Penelope. To make sure they’re okay.”

Gideon nods, “I’m sure they’d like that.” And they will. While Hotch prefers to stay in the background and worry but there’s no secret Haley is too. They both have a strong love for the babies on the unit.

And now… they have nothing to do but wait.

“Haley?” Reid wakes up restrained. His thin arms held down to the bed with itchy velcro. While he isn’t familiar with this in a personal sense, he’s seen his mother laid out like this. He doesn’t even have to test the restraints, he knows he’s not going anywhere. More pressing than that… Haley Hotchner sitting at his bedside.

Haley perks up, smiling when she sees his dark eyes open in slivers. “Hey, sweetheart,” she greets. She stands and comes closer to the bed, taking his thin, cold hand in her own. “How are you feeling?” This man may not be of any blood relation to her or Aaron but she loves him. Her husband loves him. He’s family.

Reid turns his head away from her, tears falling down the corners of his eyes. “You hate me,” he whispers.

She knows only what she needs to. Of course, under the jurisdiction and because the case hasn’t officially “closed” she can’t know that Reid chose Hotch. That his words condemned Aaron to being shot tonight. She does know that Reid is unnecessarily blaming himself for the accident. Because, as they'll soon be able to explain, Tobias was going to hurt someone either way. Haley would agree.

“No,” she soothes. “Of course, I don’t hate you.”

Reid turns to her, eyes haunted and voice hoarse, “but I killed him.”

Haley can’t help the choked sound she makes. Vehemently, she wants to deny that but she doesn’t even know if her husband is alive right now. “You didn’t,” she reassures him because at the very least she knows that’s the truth. This job has already taken her husband’s life. There’s no point in placing the blame on anyone else. “If Aaron dies tonight,” just the thought makes her chest tight.

This isn’t what she’d imagined falling in love with Pirate #4 would look like. A widower in her thirties. Raising their son all alone.

She clears her voice, steadying herself and pushing away the thought. “If Aaron dies tonight, that will have no one’s fault. No one but the Unsubs.” She glances over her shoulder, to the crowd of people-- his team. Their family. She’s seen the guilty little glances they pass her. The hug Garcia had trapped her in… they think they could have stopped this. “This, what happened tonight, is no one’s fault. Not yours, not Aaron's.”

Leave it to her husband to form a team of guilt-ridden sweethearts. She really does love them.

“Do you understand me,” she asks, eyebrow raised.

There are nods and general mumbles but what really catches her attention is the soft, sad smile Garcia manages. “You sounded like him,” the tech analyst whispers. “He’s always so worried about us,” she brushes a tear from her eyes. “Sometimes, sometimes we forget to worry about him.”

But he never lets them.

He’s so under lock and key… preoccupied with an image he’s conjured of what leadership is supposed to look like that he forgets the humanity. The bleeding. The yelling. The life.

Until it’s too late.

A doctor comes to get them. He’s alive, if only marginally. If only just holding on.

His humanity is now visible to them all.

In the mess, there is only a light blanket draped over his thin hips. It leaves his chest bare, visible for them to look long at hard at. To force this memory into their minds. To remember that under those suits there is just a man. A man who is broken and who hurts.

And, in the end, it’s her by his side when he wakes up confused and in pain.

“Aaron,” she pushes his sweat-soaked hair out of his face. Even with his eyes on her, he twists, kicking out in pain. He tries to turn his head, pinched eyes sending tears down his face. If he could cry out, he would, but all he can do is choke around the tube in his throat.

It’s like this--

He wakes for a moment, a glimpse of consciousness, and pain. She’s right by his side. She holds his hand and reminds him that he’s okay. That the team is waiting just outside. Then he falls back into the drugs.

It goes on for three days. Hours and hours of his pained kicks and tears. Nothing she can do for him.

On the fourth day, they take the tube out.

The team visits.

He’s sitting up, not of his own violation. There are pillows all around, supporting his back and sides, and two placed around his head to keep his neck supported. He is leaning heavily to his right, curled into the side of his injured chest. Haley’s tucked his blanket up over his chest, doing her best to conceal the bruises up and down his pale skin. No matter how hard she tries, the chest tube nestled between his ribs makes it’s bloodied appearance.

And it’s the first thing they all notice when they come in.

Then him.

Slack against the pillows holding him and eyes out the window on the wall. Half-lidded as he falls asleep.

“Sir,” Garcia whispers. She’s at the front of the crowd and the only one strong enough to push through her shock to get to him. She wastes no time coming to him and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “It’s so good to see you,” she manages between tears.

He smiles when she hugs him. It’s gentle, she’s very aware of the layer upon layers of bandages currently holding him together. “Penelope,” he croaks, sleepy eyes moving down her colorfully addressed body and his smile broadening when he finds no scratches. No harm. His chest aches and he finds it impossible to push out any more words but he hopes she understands.

He can remember a flash of the ambulance ride here. He can’t remember how or why his body hurts so bad but he knows Garcia was there. The faintest feeling of her hand in his, her voice guiding him between glimpses of consciousness.

Garcia smiles kindly, reaching down to squeeze his hand. “I’m really glad to see you, sir.” Even as he is, hardly presently and held together by surgical stitches-- it beats how she’d left him. For the past few nights, she’s woken in a cold sweat hearing his gurgled breaths. The sound and sight of his chest cavity filling with his lungs.

Jason comes next because none of the others can find their courage. “I know you have a sentimental attachment to your ties,” Gideon says, smiling down at his old friend. “But you really do look decades younger without it.” Nearly, identical to the boy that David Rossi had told him about all those years ago. Eager to learn but not fully trusting of their motives.

Still a trouble maker though.

Shame swells in his stomach, another of his failings so broadly laid out in front of them. If David Rossi could see the two of them now, he’d skin them both. Jason had promised to look out for “the boy”, as Dave fondly called Aaron. But the boy has grown out of his shell…

Jason had kicked him out of it with Boston and he knows Aaron wasn’t ready for that.

He ducks his head and leaves Aaron’s side with a light pat of the younger man’s hand.

Derek guides Reid to Hotch, ignoring the genius’s weak protests.

Hotch’s light up, a spark of life in his body as he spots the kid. “Reid,” he rasps. He shifts his hand, dragging it out to touch Reid. To make sure he’s really here. “... okay?” he manages, breathing, taking the strain of so much movement and all his talking.

Reid nods and it takes all of his self-control not to flinch away from Hotch. His skin is freezing. Hotch is always so warm, even just to stand beside. It’s scary and the weight of his guilt pulls Reid down. “I’m--I’m--”

Hotch smiles weakly, a crooked little grin that meets the lazy mirth in his eyes. “Please,” he whispers. “... d’n’t lie t’ me.”

Reid sniffles, tears threatening to fall down his face. As he’s pulling himself into a lie, he’s surprised to find Hotch’s hand just barely raised off the bed. Beckoning him close. For a hug. He wants to stand stoic. For once in his life, to just be the bigger man but he takes one look at his friend at the man he’s lost sleep worrying over, the man who he trusted to save him from Tobias, and he…

He lets Hotch pull him in.

“You’ll be okay,” Hotch promises. Reid tucks his face into Hotch’s neck, wanting desperately to pull more comfort from this hug but it ends because it has to. Hotch holds his hand a second too long, the two of them just looking at each other. “Strong,” Hotch rasps and Reid nods his head.

If Hotch can believe it… Reid has to.

Derek almost doesn’t say anything at all. He can’t find his voice. A part of him wants to just make out unbothered and another part of him wants to gather his boss into his arms and just hug him. Make sure he’s really here. “Don’t scare me like that.” Derek decides on an in-between. He reaches out and playfully messes with Hotch’s hair, making his bed head even worse. “Next time,” Derek says, losing his gusto. He smiles fondly at his friend and reaches down to squeeze his hand. “Next time you pull a stunt like this, I’ll kick your ass. I don’t care who’s boss you are.”

It makes Hotch smile and it creates perfect timing for JJ to steal her own hug. She slips right in beside Derek, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I wouldn’t let him do that,” she promises.

He nods, “...you’d do it yourself.”

She smiles and agrees, “but only if you really deserved it.”

He doubts that.

Emily stands back and attempts to make her getaway unnoticed. She hadn’t wanted to come to the hospital. She isn’t a part of this family, not really, not yet. Garcia had dragged her here though, those sad puppy eyes and a pouty lip. So, Emily caved and she’s regretted that decision since. Especially, when she catches his eyes mid-break-away.

“...okay?” he asks, once again. That seems to be what his main focus is on. The one thing his exhausted brain can pick to identify in each of them.

She wants to scoff or be frustrated with his worry but she looks at his eyes and she realizes that it's a genuine question. He really wants to know. It’s… a strange olive branch to find in the midst of their heated hatred of one another but perhaps she has underestimated him. Maybe, she doesn’t understand him as well as she thinks she does. With a nod, she promises, “I’m okay.”

The ease that sinks into his shoulders is not what she’s expecting.

He struggles to say something else, a mumbled, suppressed something that catches Haley’s attention. She stands and gently runs her palm against his cheek. “Don’t worry about that sweetheart,” she whispers. “Your teams here now, okay? They’re okay.” She wipes his brow, running the side of her fingers along his cheekbone. Smiling when it makes his eyes creep shut, soothing him back down. “Get some rest.”

He nods his head and his eyes fall shut. He’s exhausted. All this talking is hard and he’s hardly managed to stay awake this long all week. “Mmm,” he forces his eyes back open. They move around the room, taking inventory of the crowd. “Okay,” he asks softly.

Haley smiles and keeps up her gentle soothing. “We’re okay.”

His eyes slip back shut. “Okay.”

[dramaticviolincrescendo]

The thing is, Ian was right. Mickey doesn't know any better, the writers on the show made sure of that, because for them the only important thing about Mickey is his devotion to Ian. But we're a bit more realistic about it and can analyze Ian's actions without being limited by someone's poor imagination.

There’s a lot to address here, so please forgive me for the lengthy response, anon! 🙂 I’ll preface all of it by saying this: my general opinion is that if Mickey has what makes him happy, we should support that regardless of how we feel about the other party (with obvious exceptions like physical abuse, etc.). If Byron was what made him happy, I would support him even if I couldn’t stand the guy. The same goes for any other character in any other franchise, at least for me. Now, onto your points:

I’m not sure which scene you mean when you mention Ian saying he doesn’t know any better, but I’m definitely with you on our ability to analyze Ian’s actions. The problem here is that analyzing will always be colored by perspective and implicit bias. If your fave is Mickey, anything that hurts him will look a whole lot worse than what he does that hurts Ian and perhaps lead to conducting a less than thorough analysis or rejecting sensible arguments about Ian’s character. Based on the number of posts I see about how Mickey is the only good thing on the show, I’d argue that that is a very real danger in many of the takes on Ian as well as everyone else. I’ve seen some pretty heavy demonizing of characters who hurt Mickey’s feelings or aren’t actively sweet to him, which is a bit unrealistic since that’s life and Mickey certainly never seems to mind or let it keep him down for long.

As far as him not knowing better, on the whole, I don’t think that gives Mickey much credit at all. Actually, it doesn’t really give him any credit, which is sort of surprising given how vehemently people defend his IQ, academically and emotionally, against what amounted to a joke. Mickey knows that Ian messes up and does things that are questionable at best and hurtful at worst. He’s not an innocent, pure character who endures heartache after heartache to throw himself at the brick wall of earning Ian’s attention. He gives as good as he gets and has hurt Ian too. They’re human and written very realistically in that regard. Their love for one another allows them to forgive transgressions and move on, not hold grudges or “not know any better” with regards to what they deserve. Love isn’t about what we deserve, and I think it’s important to remember that a relationship won’t last if it’s based on an arbitrary numerical score of who has done more harm than the other. Things happen. Poor decisions are made. They can allow that to break them or work through it. Mickey has actively chosen to work through it because at the end of the day, he loves Ian more than he is interested in finding something else. In earlier seasons, Ian similarly chose to work through it with someone who might never be in a position to come out and begin the full relationship that he so desperately wanted. That’s beautiful to me, not contemptible.

As far as the only important thing about Mickey being his devotion to Ian, we’ll also have to agree to disagree. 🙂 In the early seasons, while Ian was certainly the catalyst for it, Mickey’s story was about coming out more than his devotion to Ian. That’s why we have the scenes where he taunted Kash (focus: keeping his secret), purposely got sent back to juvie (focus: hiding from Terry if he found out), and got married (focus: self-preservation). We do absolutely see a rising devotion for Ian during this period, of course, and there’s no argument that his character was written expressly to be Ian’s love interest. The writers still made him a well-developed one with his own motives, fears, and desires outside of Ian in a way that later love interests didn’t get. (My own belief is that they didn’t intend for the later relationships to last like they did Mickey, but regardless of the validity there, Mickey was written as a character with more depth from the very beginning and existed before anything with Ian ever happened.)

The first half of s4 shows Mickey on his own merits. He’s handling his new position as a patriarch of the family, running the business while Terry is fairly hands-off and watches. He decides to help the Russian girls and ends up going into business with Kev. We learn a lot about Mickey’s character outside of Ian during that time. In fact, there are only a couple of scenes that really focus on him missing Ian until finding him becomes Mickey’s task: asking Kev if anyone has heard from him, the bathroom scene, and the later Alibi scene. Otherwise, the early s4 writers showed us a Mickey who was compassionate, ambitious, utilitarian, entrepreneurial, and collaborative—all without tying it back to Ian. Kev and V are renowned friends of the Gallaghers, but Mickey doesn’t grow closer to Kev in an attempt to learn more about what happened to Ian. He doesn’t help the girls because he thinks Ian would want him to. In fact, with the exception of those scenes I mentioned, we have no reason to believe that Ian is on Mickey’s mind at all while he’s doing these other things. He has a life outside of Ian just like the opposite is true, and s4 went to great lengths to show us that.

The second half of s4 is, once again, about keeping his secret until he decides to come out. (Read: decides to, is not forced to. More on that in a moment.) Yes, his devotion to Ian is once again the catalyst for some of his decisions, but there’s much more to it than that. Once again, we still see scenes with Mickey operating on his own for his own purposes. He doesn’t leave home entirely because he wants to be with Ian—he also wants to escape from his wife and pretend that things are the way they used to be. He doesn’t scam money from the rich guy or take more than his cut from the register at the Alibi to protect Ian—he does it for self-preservation so that Svetlana won’t get him killed. He doesn’t go to the baptism to keep up appearances and protect Ian—he does it to keep up appearances for himself and because...well, like it or not, that’s his son. The lattermost is something Ian specifically does not want him to do, and if he does, he wants to be there. Mickey goes against his wishes because it’s about protecting himself (and perhaps, by extension, their relationship), and rightfully so. Coming out at the Alibi does once again tie to Ian as a catalyst for change in Mickey’s life, but it didn’t have to happen. Mickey could have grabbed his coat, told everyone goodnight, and left with Ian. At no time did Ian tell him that he would leave if Mickey didn’t come out to everyone or admit they’re a couple, even if he did make reference to the fact that Mickey was hiding and not free. All Ian wanted was for Mickey not to treat him like a mistress or expect him to stick around if he did. Instead, it was a logical culmination of Mickey’s written development to come out. He’s stronger and more independent than he used to be. He’s capable of taking care of himself and surviving in the world without relying on Terry. He’s in a position where yes, he’s still justifiably terrified of coming out and what it’ll mean where Terry is concerned, but he’s able to do it. Ian is a catalyst for it, but being devoted to him isn’t Mickey’s only reason.

In s5, a lot of Mickey’s story does revolve around his devotion to Ian, but not any more than Ian’s revolves around devotion to him in the second half of s3. We still see Mickey doing business and running the family, but having Ian be his more central concern makes sense because Ian is sick and the writers have already told us that his health is a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. In denial or not, Mickey knows this. And so we see his story center around Ian because, to an extent, it has to. Ian is mentally and physically sick. He’s adjusting not only to meds, but to a label that makes him feel ashamed and afraid. Mickey is devoted to him, and so Mickey does everything he can to take care of him. But here’s the thing: that scares Ian too. He’s seen what happens to the people who try to take care of Monica. He knows how it felt to try only to be ignored or betrayed or abandoned. The breakup isn’t about anger at being coddled or, by my interpretation and Ian’s own words, him being selfish. It’s about him seeing that Mickey’s devotion is going to keep him from living his life and ultimately (in his opinion) hurt him beyond repair, and so he sets Mickey free. It hurts him, yes, but it does work.

Because even though we don’t see it happen on-screen, s6 through s9 can’t possibly be Mickey sitting in a prison cell pining over Ian. If that was going to happen, we’d have seen it in s4. By this point, we know who Mickey is outside of Ian and can assume that he’s operating in much the same way on the inside until he figures out what he wants to do. We know he and Svetlana had a business arrangement where they took out contracts for work he could do in prison. We know that he makes a business acquaintanceship with Damon, which means he was probably involved in dealing or smuggling while there. Neither of these things can possibly revolve around devotion to Ian because they could conceivably keep him from Ian longer. His sentence is fifteen years, and if he’s counting on being out in eight to be with Ian, he needs to be on his best behavior. He’s not. He’s unapologetically not when he sees Ian again and talks about what Damon is. Ian looks less than comfortable with it, but that’s not why they ditch him—it’s because he might get Mickey caught with his behavior. Even breaking out happened once he was able to solidify an opportunity working for a cartel, so while Ian may have been another catalyst (besides the obvious desire to get out of prison), the decision wasn’t about devotion to him. The only decision that was about that was the one he made at the border to let Ian go without making him feel worse about it. He’s devoted to Ian, so he knows that dragging him along on the run into the unknown won’t be good for him. He needs stability and a support system and medication, none of which Mickey can provide if they cross that border together. So, out of his devotion, he lets Ian go. They have a heartfelt goodbye and separate for what they think is the last time.

Does Mickey’s devotion lead him to turning himself in? Absolutely. But not before spending another long stint living his own life. The writers make sure we know that he had a life without Ian playing a role in it, once again conducting business and operating successfully on his own merits. They’re limited in what they can show because Noel wasn’t available, which made logistics important, but they didn’t leave him high and dry or insinuate that he was waiting around in Mexico for an excuse to return to Ian. He was once again a successful businessman in the illicit economy. When he returns in s10, his storyline does then appear to revolve around devotion to Ian more—but it doesn’t. Mickey has people he hangs out with in prison separate from Ian and with no ties to him. With the Byron situation, it wasn’t about proving devotion for Ian when he thought Ian questioned it—it was about hurting Ian because of what happened at the courthouse, even after he found out what Ian was really afraid of. If the writers were only interested in showing his devotion to Ian, he would have ditched Byron the second Ian told him that he was scared of his disorder and ruining them. He doesn’t. He sticks it out because Mickey is so much more than his relationship with Ian: he’s independent, vengeful, hot-headed, impulsive, and stubborn. These are traits that have been set up by the writers throughout the series both with and without ties to their relationship, and he very adamantly adheres to his revenge-plot-turned-catalyst-for-Ian-pulling-his-head-out-of-his-ass because he isn’t all about devotion to Ian.

I completely respect your opinion on the matter and appreciate the opportunity to discuss it at length! Ultimately, it boils down to this for me: the writers get a lot off flack for some of the narrative decisions and, of course, they won’t always be to our liking. Opinions and preferences assure us of that. I don’t think it’s about us being more realistic or more capable of analyzing a character, though. Everything above was written. It wasn’t spelled out and handed to us, no, but the writers put it there so that we could then analyze it. There’s no analyzing a blank slate or someone whose only narrative is devotion to Ian. The writers have given us a wealth of things to consider when it comes to all the characters, Mickey included, and we wouldn’t be able to have this conversation if they didn’t. Mickey is intelligent, thoughtful, insightful, and more than capable of standing on his own two feet as both a fictional person and a character. If he chose Ian, then it’s because he has weighed all these things and found them to be nothing in the grand scheme of their love for one another. Again, though, we can agree to disagree. Thank you for this ask—I find myself writing more about Ian, so I had a lot of fun thinking back over the series to answer it! 😃🧡

[skylanders-after-the-end]

Culprits and Witnesses

It was a peaceful morning in Skylands. A scenery of pinkish and yellow clouds illuminated by the rising sun. Snap Shot and Wolfgang were enjoying that moment together. They were sitting underneath the cherry blossom tree where they used to train and bond. Lying on top of the soft green grass, their arms around each other and a light breeze brushing past them. Everything was perfect.

“I wish it could always be like this.” Wolfgang’s eyes were calmly set on the sun. “Just you, me and the endless skies.”

“Me too.” Snap Shot sighed and turned quiet. “As gorgeous as this view is, you know what it means.”

Wolfgang sighed as well, only more annoyed than calm now. “Yeah.”

Not a second passed before a giant version of Dreamcatcher appeared in the sky right in front of them. “The sun is rising you guys, you know what that means.”

The couple rolled their eyes before lovingly looking at each other one more time.

Snap Shot opened his eyes to find himself back inside his cell at Cloudcracker Prison. It was all a dream. However, he’s not upset about it. Him and Wolfgang made a deal with Dreamcatcher so that every night they could meet each other in the dream realm and enjoy their time together, even if it’s not real.

The reptile got out of his cell and on his way to the cafeteria for breakfast, he felt a large fluffy arm wrap around his shoulder.

“Hey sleepy head.” Wolfgang smirked as he joined Snap Shot and they could spend some time in the real world, only surrounded by other villains.

Before the cafeteria entrance, Dreamcatcher appeared in front of the two once again, this time in her regular size. She didn’t say a word and just stared at them with expecting eyes.

Wolfgang shoved his hand inside a pocket of his pants and pulled out a small plastic figure of a unicorn, their end of the deal. “This is all I could find around here.”

“Sir Blueberry Twinkles!” Dreamcatcher used her telepathic abilities, which have been reduced to only lifting small objects inside the prison, to hold the toy in front of her. “Finally I can reunite him with his sister! Thanks, tonight I will take you somewhere special.” The floating head winked before flying off whilst enjoying the small toy horse.

The couple giggled before finally entering the cafeteria to fill their hungry stomachs.

Later that morning, the paralyzed Tuff Luck was found. She was brought into the hospital immediately where Whirlwind would take a look at the strange trance the feline was in.

“I have never seen anything like this before.” Smolderdash was as appalled as everyone else to see the lifeless, cloudy blue eyes of the Life Skylanders. “What happened to her?”

“Maybe this has something to do with Hex’ curse?” Stealth Elf could only think of the witch when she saw those eyes, despite the fact that Hex’ curse turned them pitch black. “Perhaps some kind of side effect?”

“That can’t be it. Everyone was freed from Hex’ curse when she surrendered, and this isn’t undead magic anyway.” Whirlwind has been studying all kinds of injuries and even curses for years, but this was new to her. “This is something completely different.”

Unaware to them, Tuff Luck was currently trapped inside her own mind experiencing her greatest fear. There was no way for her to give any sign through her body, she had no control anymore.

As the Skylanders continued to speculate, a deep voice emerged from the shadows. “May I take a look?”

Everyone turned around to see the dark dragon Blackout standing behind them, trying to get a glimpse of what was going on. “Of course, maybe you know more than us.” Whirlwind moved aside for the dragon to join the group.

Blackout moved his head closer to Tuff Luck and squinted his eyes while staring into hers. Suddenly the horn at the tip of his snout began to glow in a dim green light before he backed off. “Whoever did this must have access to some kind of psychic powers.”

“We figured that much.” Stealth Elf thought about some possible suspects. “But that color and her completely frozen body… we’ve never seen that before.”

“No… not in this form.” Blackout closed his eyes and focused for his horn to glow brighter. “She’s fighting. She’s trapped inside her own mind and there is no way for her to break free.”

The others gasped upon hearing that shocking revelation. “Is there a way to help her?” Smolderdash didn’t hesitate for a moment and was already looking for answers.

“I’m afraid not.” Blackout opened his eyes again and his horn stopped glowing. “She’s under the influence of some force very similar to dream magic. A so-called nightmare prison.”

“Dream magic?” Stealth Elf wasn’t hearing that term for the first time. “Then I think I know who did this.”

“Oh, yes of course I did!” Dreamcatcher just finished placing her most recent toy horse on the ledge of her window, adding it to her collection. It’s a hobby she discovered ever since she’s been locked back inside Cloudcracker Prison and found an abandoned unicorn toy.

“How? You’re behind bars and your powers are limited, there’s no way.” Stealth Elf glared at the floating head through the bars of her cell before she turned around to face the elf and Blackout who have come to question her.

“Oh no, I didn’t do that. I mean I did see your friend in the dream realm. The poor thing was so lost and afraid, but unfortunately I was too busy helping those two lovebirds so I couldn’t do anything about it.” Dreamcatcher’s dirty grin made it clear that she was being sarcastic.

Blackout was standing behind Stealth Elf and didn’t say a word yet. He was trying to use his advanced knowledge to figure out what was going on. “If you were able to see her then others can enter the nightmare prison, so she can be saved.”

The Air villain turned to the dragon and gained a curious look. “Hey, I know you.” She was staring at Blackout who kept his dead serious expression. “Weren’t you one of those creepy dragons that spread nightmares all over the realm? I hope you know by now that that’s my thing.”

“I don’t associate with that clan anymore.” Blackout remembered the Dark Stygian. It was a clan consisting of gargoyle dragons just like him who would give nightmares to villains until they started to abuse that power. “I stopped them just like we stopped you, but there’s another force out there.”

“So, you’re saying it wasn’t her?” Stealth Elf’s eyes went from Dreamcatcher to Blackout.

“No, I keep watch over her at night. She can manipulate dreams to an extent, but not this drastically and not to the point where it gets dangerous.” Blackout kept eye contact with the accused.

“You’re stalking me? Ugh, creep!” Dreamcatcher scoffed at the two Skylanders once more before turning around. “But he’s right, I have nothing to do with this.”

Blackout didn’t ask any further questions and left while Stealth Elf spitefully stared at the back of Dreamcatcher before going as well.

Meanwhile Smolderdash went to get some advice elsewhere. She entered the Magic Realm where she stumbled upon Déjà Vu who was happy to help. The two made it to one of the highest magical towers in which many Skylanders of the respective element reside in. They were looking for someone.

“Are you sure she’s here?” Smolderdash floated across a long wine-red carpet along the blue stone floor leading inside.

“It’s where she spends most of her time as far as I know.” Déjà Vu turned her head left and right to observe countless shelves filled with books, potions and other ancient relics.

The inside of the building was much bigger than the slim exterior led to believe. The two Skylanders turned and pushed many objects aside in search of a specific one. “Hello?” Smolderdash finally exclaimed, hearing an echo throughout the giant circular room.

Déjà Vu was searching on the other side. After some brief scans of every corner, she finally spotted something. “Smolderdash, look!”

The fiery humanoid hurried to the timelord, who was staring at a pink bottle with cyan, oval-shaped jewels on the side and a diamond cork on top. “That’s it!”

Neither of them knew how to approach the relic. Finally, Smolderdash decided to just grab the bottle before shaking it. When nothing happened, she placed her other hand onto it and gently rubbed. The bottle reacted by trembling, which caused the Fire Skylander to drop it and back off. Finally, the cork flew off and the bottle emitted a dazzling cloud of purple smoke. A slim figure emerged out of it and grew larger with every passing moment, casting an enormous shadow on the Skylanders looking up in awe.

The being reached the point where it was so big that it hit the ceiling. After a painful hiss, it proceeded to shrink instead and adjusted itself to a size more suitable for the room. When the smoke ceased, the giant Ninjini finally appeared in front of the visitors. “Who has summoned the great Ninjini… oh it’s just you.”

Déjà Vu’s eyes curved underneath her mask, indicating a smile, while Smolderdash remained rather baffled. “Ninjini, we’ve been looking everywhere for you!” The fellow Magic Skylander was excited to get a chance to talk to one of the most skilled Skylanders of all time.

“Sorry about that, I just discovered a new spell which can warp reality, so I had to retreat into my bottle to concentrate.” Ninjini, and genies in general, were known for their great amount of power. They can grant almost any wish and thus hold the power of infinite creation. “How can I help you?”

“There was an incident last night.” Smolderdash wasn’t sure how to best describe the situation, but she just needed to know if Ninjini was more knowledgeable regarding the issue. “Tuff Luck was put in some kind of trance, they were talking about dream magic. Her eyes were completely light blue and foggy.”

“Dream magic?” Ninjini knew a good deal about that. “Genie magic does have a lot in common with that, only that there’s an entirely different realm for dreams.”

“Do you know any way to manipulate it?” Déjà Vu was curious. “I would use my time powers, but that would most likely lead to way more problems.”

“You shouldn’t do that, you’re right.” Ninjini pointed her finger at the sorceress while looking into another direction. “I wish I could help you, but unfortunately I can’t access any sort of dream magic. While wishes often stem from dreams, ultimately they are what someone wants in reality. Dreams are far more… unpredictable.”

“I understand.” Smolderdash wasn’t disappointed, but she did wonder what else she could do. “If it turns out that it wasn’t Dreamcatcher then there must be someone else with the power to manipulate dreams.”

“And create nightmares.” Déjà Vu reminded her companion of the dark side to that special kind of magic.

“Right…” The Fire Skylander looked up to Ninjini and nodded with a smile. “Thanks for your time.”

“Always. I will let you know if I find out anything else.” The giantess turned around to pick out some more books for her private studying session while the two Skylanders made their way back to the Academy.

The sun has set and there were no clear answers as to what happened with the unfortunate Tuff Luck. The Skylanders gathered once more to discuss another strategy.

“We have no idea what happened, and our main suspect seems to be innocent.” Stealth Elf spoke to the group in front of her, not realizing how glum she sounded. “I suppose we will have to take other measures.”

“Like what? I don’t think the perpetrator will just show up and tell us.” Spitfire joined the discussion after seeing what had happened and wanted to find a solution. “All we can do is hope for Tuff Luck to snap out of it and tell us herself.”

“She’s not snapping out of it, not that easily.” Blackout’s deep voice traveled through the crowd like a wave. “If even Ninjini can’t reverse it, then we have to catch the enemy and force them to do it.”

“Or perhaps…” Smolderdash announced an idea that just popped into her head, drawing all the attention towards her. “Kaos has something to do with this.”

“Kaos never did something like this, I doubt he even could.” Stealth Elf didn’t even consider the small tyrant despite him posing a serious threat numerous times. “I can’t stop thinking that this has something to do with Hex.”

“Hex’ powers were all absorbed and stored safely where no one can find them.” Spitfire had to remind the elf of what happened a week ago. “And besides, her magic is undead, so dark and scary. Not exactly dream magic if you ask me.”

“Guys!” The conversation was interrupted by Whirlwind soaring towards them with a worried manner. “It happened again!”

The Skylanders followed the hybrid to the inside of the library where Gearshift was on the floor with the same cloudy eyes as Tuff Luck. She was all alone, and no one was even nearby, so there were no witnesses.

“How could this happen?” Stealth Elf was shocked and her eyes were glued to the motionless body of the robot. “And why her of all people? Can she even dream?”

“I cannot.” Everyone jumped up in surprise when Gearshift responded. The Trap Master blinked and suddenly her eyes went back to their normal navy, silver and red colors.

Whirlwind couldn’t explain to herself what just happened. “Gearshift? How did you-”

“Break free from the trance? Magic usually does not show great effect on my systems, so in the case of a trance, hypnosis or other forms of paralyzation, I can simply reboot myself.” The robot stood back up as if nothing happened.

“Well, do you know what happened? Did you see anything?” Smolderdash didn’t fully believe that everything was completely fine, but Gearshift wasn’t one to lie.

“I did, in fact.” Everyone listened eagerly as the Tech Skylander recalled the event. “Before I fell into that trance and blacked out for approximately twelve minutes and twenty-one seconds, a cloaked figure ambushed me.”

“A cloaked figure?” Spitfire tried to think of a villain who could be capable of something like that. “Did you see their face?”

“I saw a mask inside the hood, not the face.” Gearshift described the intruder as precisely as she could. “They are using it to curse their victims. Whatever you do, do not-”

“Up so soon? Didn’t you enjoy the nightmare I made for you?” A mischievous voice echoed through the library, and everyone frantically looked around themselves.

“There!” Smolderdash pointed to the cloaked figure they’ve been looking for. He was standing on top of some wooden platforms near the ceiling.

The mysterious figure jumped down while the heroes all pulled out their weapons and were ready to strike. “You’re the one who’s doing this, aren’t you?” Stealth Elf hissed through her mask while tightly holding her daggers.

“Guilty as charged.” The voice was deep, too deep almost. It didn’t sound natural, more like a distorted recording. Everyone could tell that it was a man talking, yet they didn’t recognize him. “I should’ve known that the robot wouldn’t fall prey to my curse, what a waste.”

“Do not look into his eyes, that is what puts you under the curse!” Gearshift remarked before the figure got closer and purposely attempted to look into each pair of eyes.

The Skylanders tried to turn their eyes away, but they still managed to catch glimpses of the mask. It was a frightening twisted grimace painted in dark and cool colors. No one thought much about it until Smolderdash took a closer look, avoiding the eyes. “Wait… that’s the Mask of Power!”

Everyone stared at the Fire Skylander and then again at the mask before gasping when they realized that it truly was the powerful relic. “So, you recognize it. No wonder since you tried to steal it from me years ago!” The foe was walking around the group like a predator circling his prey, turning his head trying to get a look into their eyes.

“Who are you?” Spitfire looked down to the ground as the intruder passed him.

“You know who I am. I’ve spent eons trapped in my own kingdom, unable to fulfill my plan to rule the Skylands with my rightful powers!” The figure was now in front of the group again. He began to levitate with blue energy underneath him and towered over the Skylanders with a mighty aura. “I am the Nightmare King!”

Just before he could launch an attack through the eyes of his mask, a fireball hit him from the side and he fell to the ground. Spyro arrived alongside a few other Skylander to aid their allies. “And you won’t get the chance to do anymore damage!” The leader glared at the enemy who turned away from the heroes.

Instead of surrendering, the Nightmare King began to cackle. He swung his arm and unleashed a powerful wave of magic, throwing everyone to the ground. “You won’t defeat me. Even if you try, I will turn your greatest fears into reality. The one you will have to fight is yourself!” The villain was certain of himself and already knew his plan. “I’m not in a hurry, eventually you will all surrender to the horrors that plague your minds. No one can escape.” With those words the Nightmare King turned around and vanished in the blink of an eye.

The Skylanders looked everywhere, but he was gone. “Perfect, yet another new villain.” Spitfire sighed and waited for Spyro to come up with the next plan to take the threat down.

“I’m afraid so.” Cautiously, almost paranoid, Spyro looked behind himself to see if there was something there. “Skylanders, there’s a new villain in town and he once again wants to take over the Skylands.”

“He also carries the Mask of Power.” Smolderdash remarked.

Spyro’s eyes opened wide, but at this point nothing could surprise him anymore. “Well, then we will need to find a way to take those powers from him. We all know what a single fragment of the mask was capable of, I don’t want to find out what the whole thing can do.”

As Spyro discussed the plan, Gearshift noticed that something wasn’t right. She blinked and her eyes suddenly shifted back to the nightmare state. Inside her mind, or rather system, she saw something familiar, then she heard a deep scream. She couldn’t make out what it was and before she got the opportunity to look closer, she was back in the real world. The robot didn’t think much of it and continued to listen like nothing happened.

In the meantime, at Cloudcracker Prison all the villains were in their cells and supposed to be asleep. Obviously almost none of them were, but they were all quiet so they wouldn’t receive a warning from the guards. Snap Shot and Wolfgang were no exception. After asking the Trap Masters time and time again they were finally allowed to get cells next to each other. Now they could chat as much as they wanted, despite a crystal wall being in between them.

“Did Dream tell you that she was interrogated today?” Wolfgang was using the bones of the chicken he had for dinner to drum against the bars of his cell as so often.

“For what?” Snap Shot was scratching the floor with his sharp gloved claws.

“Apparently a Skylander was found under some kind of dream spell.” Wolfgang did know what the mischievous head was capable of, but he also knew that her powers are very limited within prison walls. “They thought it was her. Shows how much they trust their own energy fields.”

Snap Shot smirked. “You guys did always find a way around that.” After a few seconds the reptile’s smile faded and his scratching along the floor stopped. “Wolfy?”

“Yeah?” The werewolf interrupted his drumming session since he could tell that Snap Shot was about to ask him something more serious.

“What will you do when you get out?” Snap Shot has been thinking about life outside of prison a lot lately, and he can’t help but wonder what it will look like. “We have two more years, but after that we’re free to go.”

Wolfgang was quiet. Unlike Snap Shot, he spent many years behind bars. At this point it felt more like home than any other place in Skylands. “Well, if the queen is really out of the picture, I’ll just try to get as far away from here as possible. Lay low, y’know?”

“Yeah.” That reminded Snap Shot of Wolfgang’s attempt to flee when the Skylanders found them and the other Doom Raiders on that abandoned island. Back then he would have never dared to run away, but things are different now. “I honestly have no idea. I thought I’d be with the Skylanders until I retire before settling down in some swamp and spend the rest of my days shouting at youngsters who are trespassing through my property.” Wolfgang laughed as Snap Shot paused and thought further. “But now I’m here. I have to get away once I’m out, they won’t want me around.” Snap Shot took a deep breath and exhaled with a sigh. “I can never go back.”

Wolfgang could almost feel Snap Shot’s disappointment through the wall. He knew how respected he used to be among the Skylanders. The leader of the Trap Masters with a track record of catching more criminals than anyone else, including the wolf himself several times. The crocagator told him to not feel guilty about that loss, even though it was his fault. The least he could do now is help him figure things out. “I know what that’s like, losing the life you once had and all the people in it. It’s scary at first and you’re all alone, but eventually you find something new, something that keeps you going. For me it was music and with the Doom Raiders I thought I had discovered my new purpose. Now I realize that wasn’t what I really wanted, not in that way.”

Snap Shot was listening carefully. He loved listening to his partner go on about music, he could tell how happy that made him, but he never expressed anything about his purpose before. “Then what do you want?”

“I want to be free.” Wolfgang’s lips formed a gentle smile as his mind wandered through all the possibilities once he’s out of prison. “No more tyranny and pressure from some greedy ol’ hag. I just want to get out there and share my music, even if no one enjoys it.”

Snap Shot nodded. “That sure sounds like a purpose to me.”

“And I won’t go alone.” Wolfgang added. “I’ll take a grumpy old crocagator with me and maybe, just maybe, he will get into music too.”

“In your dreams!” Both let out a heartfelt laugh before sinking back into their thoughts. “That does sound like something. Getting out there, seeing what no one’s seen before.”

Wolfgang was glad to hear some perspective from the reptile. “And you know the Skylanders; some of them won’t be able to let you go without at least saying goodbye.”

“You’re right about that.” Snap Shot’s sight moved up and out the window. Seeing the star-filled sky gave him a comforting feeling, almost like a spark of hope. “To the future.”

“To the future.” Wolfgang yawned before crawling into his small bed, which has been starting to feel comfortable after so many dreamy nights.

Snap Shot went to bed too and realized that maybe, despite the circumstances, the stay in the prison was exactly what he needed.

[floxalopex]

I don't know if somebody already did this specifically. But yh the heck let's go.

WARNING 1: THIS IS NOT A POST FOR SENSITIVE PEOPLE AND/OR MINORS. (it contains gore and sexual themes and more).

And yes, SALT. Lots of salt.

WARNING 2: this has nothing to do with Christianity specifically. Atheism isn't hate towards your god(s) and/or its believers. Although there are many forms of atheism (some of which are so strong and violent they make me furious) think about mine as a general form of indifference. I hate the Church state, yes, but sorry I have that "at home" so please don't blame me. I don't like Abrahamic religions in general, but I've grown up with one.

I'm thankfully not a cult survivor, but I can understand some things.

WARNING 3: living in a very religious contest I have many beloved friends and relatives (starting with my mother) who believe in their god a lot. So if my words are too disrespectful tell me, I really don't want to hurt anybody.

Okay.

So.

I've seen many similarities between the cult Horde Prime put his clones in and your very average, very white, very western idea of Christianity.

1) Theophagy:

First of all, I really don't know much how this thing is lived in other Christian countries, but in mine they put a lot of emphasis on the Eucharist.

As far as I've seen I think it's pretty obvious how much in ancient cultures there's a very carnal and very grounded idea of the spirit. That can result in believing the soul to be the "psyche", so literally "the breath of life", the coordination of your sinapsis togheter (to me a very poetic definition of how our whole being ourselves is just us being our central nervous system) or it can lead to you eating the ashes of your granpa so you get his good qualities (something some cultures still do today). They said that the head of Orpheus was buried in the island of Lesbo and that's why its land was filled with amazing poets like Sappho. There's this very, sorry, brutal idea of the embodyment of the soul, the talents of a person, that even a piece of corpse is considered a magic thingy.

This is no different in the very old, very ancient, very rural Christian religion (at least in the most common version of it, we have many flavours of one truth apperentely).

When I was in High School we studied a lot Bacchus and the Baccanalia, because there are several commedies about it. My teacher, being very religious, was almost ashamed to admit that a lot of acts of those festivities (let's say that the most normal thing was for women to give their milk to animal cubs) were actually not very dissimilar in their rawness to certain habits of the religion.

So, what about Horde Prime? (me *yh, what about it, stupid ADHD?*). I have seen a post in the past explaining that yes, even though spacebats have the dentition of a frugivore bat and not haematophagus bat, the scene of Prime recharging in his throne with all those disgusting cables filled with green liquid referred as "the life force" of his clones...well, it's surely something.

Looks like a sort of sci-fi vampire thing. Which is very cool and I love this headcanon. So again I kept thinking...what is THAT amniotic fluid? I am a student, so correct me if I say something wrong.

Amniotic fluid is a combination of water 99%, proteins, glucids, fats and some salts (...it's even effective for electric conduction...the heck is that pool).

The most similar body fluid is plasma, so blood less cells. Even the serum, so plasma less proteins, is very similar.

Now, stated that Prime is a manipulative jerk, stated that I don't know much about aliens' physiology, stated that that fluid can come from blood potentially, in Church they say this:

*and Jesus said: "This is my body/blood which I offer in sacrifice for you"*

Apart from it being very creepy, there's this idea in the whole religion-thingy: if you are human you are a selfish monster, so monstrous you made our Lord and Savior die for your sins for how messed up you were.

So basically you don't become a sinner, you are concived as one. Humanity is sin itself, it can never lead to something good.

So are the clones. That's why Prime, in his benevolence, feeds them with himself. To make them pure, to protect them from the outside world. To make them remember who their strenght comes from.

If you don't want to read all of this just go for the Futurama soda episode, it's basically the same thing. Bleah.

2) Corpse feticism and more.

Again, don't know you guys, but here we are filled with mummies. I went in a place in Palermo and ...my gosh why did I do that.

We have everything here, hands, heads, feet, teeth so many of them, dead babies, dead virgins, dead popes, dead elders, all of them for half the prize, but only if you call today.

We are. Filled. With these atrocities. At least we don't touch them anymore.

Sometimes I wonder if, apart from the "hygene", people in Middle Ages used to die at the honorable age of 13 also because they kissed those... thingies there.

So, can we please talk about Horde Prime collection of "previous selves"?

This man has a whole room filled with corpses of himself. In the Vatican you can find corpses of dead popes as well, preserved and even dressed in a very good way. In Italy in general we have these, I remember a whole room in a town near my city filled with skeletons of "saints". Personally I find it very disturbing because you are basically not allowing that body to rest and serve its last biological purpose, especially if you consider that most of these "saints" were mentally impared young kids who were killed brutally and died as "martyrs". In ancient Greece the WORST thing you could do to a corpse was to leave it unburied, without dignity.

It's getting darker now.

I like both headcanons for Prime, that of a spoiled (maybe even sexist) royal of a lost culture who wanted to conquer the universe and that of him being a sort of ancient evil spirit, but I personally like to stick with the latter.

Imagine the old bodies of the clones Prime used for himself. Pushed to their limits. Clones dying young is horrific as well, but like these people were forced to go on. Not to die. Not to age as much as possible. And now that they are dead they can't even rest. They are a show off for anyone to see. Their brains preserved and their literal dead flesh still tormented for reading.

One may ask me, then what about corpses in formalin for medical use? Well, one thing is a donor or a dead fetus or a corpse nobody claims. That's the story of the skeleton in my university, a young male who didn't eat much. A very lonely man. Well at least now he is well loved and appreciated, ah if only he knew that.

The point is, we respect them. We are grateful for the informations they give us. Gosh, I know I'm creepy, but I even cuddled one bone once. We know they probably suffered. Like, search for HeLa cells. That lady has my highest respect.

But Prime? Those are. Vessels. Just that.

Anyways, apart for the "respect the deads thing" I found Hordak's behaviour in that room that of high distress. Like, ehm, any normal person? Search for "Convento Dei Cappuccini", that place I was talking about in Palermo. The fact that I heard kids cry and "MEMENTO MORI" everywhere.

Everyone and everything is afraid of death, I just accepted that fear because it's normal. That doesn't mean I want to be reminded of it every week, especially if I'm a 7 yo kid.

Honorable mentions: that horrible art collection.

3) Double standards

When I went to catechism my teacher used a very feather hand on males and an iron fist on us ladies. We weren't allowed to wear trousers, to play football, to raise our voice. We were forced to be very clean, to sit with our legs as closed as possible. I heard it was worse before, at least we could play volleyball and weren't forced to knit.

We were however "encouraged" to sing and bake stupid cakes for Sundays. Mind you, I'm very feminine, but one thing is liking ribbons one thing is being a slave.

The boys...well, they could literally do anything. They broke things, used petards, beat each other. They were NEVER reproached, the teachers would say "oh, they are just boys". Like once I was so engrossed. I remember I had to sit behind a guy with his butt almost uncovered (because the lower you put the helm of your trousers the cooler you were) while I had to stay still with my head high, chest out, belly in and legs closed for 2h. The problem was: I almost pitied him. I was like "poor thing he doesn't know how to behave properly". That's so crazy, I was piting a free soul while I had my hands handcuffed because I truly believed the bullshit they put into my mind.

Now, imagine how did Horde Prime's clones feel about Catra and Glimmer.

They can dress as they please. Eat non amniotic fluid. Catra can even go wherever she wants.

To me, they didn't feel envious. As they should! That's how far an indoctrination can go.

Take Yudi interaction with Catra, he believes everything he is saying.

But I think deep down he knows, they all know, the truth, juding by his bitter reaction after being possesed. He knows he is the slave here, not the free man. But he wants to believe the other way round.

I think that yes, of course Prime kept Glimmer and Catra (and Hordak) because he needed them to conquer Etheria. But that is also a good way to show to the poor clones of how lost people far away from Prime's light can be. Slaves of their bodly needs and slaves of their individuality.

4) Sexual abuse

Do I need to explain this? Plus all those sick touches Prime gives not only to Hordak, but to Glimmer, Catra and Adora as well?

I don't know much about other countries, again, but here the Church is a real cancer. If a priest gets accoused of raping children he just gets put into another Church far away, and generally he keeps being a pedo even there and the game goes on.

I wouldn't exately say that Prime is a pedophile but clones are pretty innocent and neotenic to me so...idk.

Of course, Prime is his own state and his own rules, so yh. Raping all day. That's why I don't like to ship him with anything rather than a 100 m fall. Not even with his clones, sorry I know its kinky maybe but he is a monster.

Also, the way the clones feel like...honored to be raped. That's so sad. Maybe he convinced them this is the only right way they could experience sex and intimacy. I really don't know.

One thing I'm sure of is that Christian religion likes to often put shame on some "impure" acts. That's the name. The most impure of all is masturbation. If you are a male ...mmm well it's okay dear, it's not your fault you are male and so a sex starved animal. But if you are a girl? Ihhh oh dare you bitch.

Mind you, I fall in the ace spectrum but I did too have puberty and needs, and these thoughts in my head made me only conflicted.

Last thing. More of an asking. And more irriverent, so please stay away if you don't want to read.

So basically I understood I was atheist at 5 yo, just because I read two different versions of the birth of the Universe, one in my science book and one in my Bible (MY Bible, I still have it, was a gift of my aunt) and preferred the science version. I still felt conflicted, like once during a religion lesson at School (well...I don't blame Mussolini much in this case, I mean the Vatican wasn't still recognizing country indipendence and we needed a compromise) the teacher told me to stop drawing dinosaurs with Adam and Eve because they never existed. I mean...yes that's anachronistic but still I felt very sad, dinosaurs were cooler than that story. I remember I even made an experiment "if I say I don't believe in god will I get thunderstruck?". It didn't happen so I was like "oh cool, science wins". But then CATECHISM ecc ecc. The fun fact is that they think atheists are those who don't study religion, while I was the most zelous of the class.

So.

I just wonder...my baby boy Hordak is a man of science, what were his thoughts after his separation from Prime. I mean of course he still believed, but also not as much after some time. Entrapta is a support system for him of course, but he accepts her affection quite easily on canon. Which is amazing, still... maybe he was already doubting his devotion?

[thesleepy1]

Spearmint Tea With A Teaspoon Of Milk And A Dash Of Honey

Tik Tok Writing Prompt

A/N: I saw this prompt on Tik Tok and have been thinking about it none stop for the past three days. I just had to write it. It may make no sense, but that's fine. I enjoyed the writing process for once. Completely unbeta'd because I'm lazy and this was written in a hurry before it left my mind. If you see any mistakes please let me know.

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMdVg7jBL/

Pairings: No pairings

Summary: “You have been an immortal for a couple of centuries now. Today, you’re enjoying a drink at a nearby cafe, when someone approaches you and says, “Hey, remember me? Peru, 1821?”

Word count: 2,578

Warnings: mature, suggestive themes, wump, angst, derealizion, mentions of depression, more warnings to be added,

You have been an immortal for a couple of centuries now; if not more. After a certain set of rotations around the sun, you hardly bothered to keep track of exactly how many times you’ve been around the block. You were something of a myth, a feared, terrified, creature of torn legend, a monster that stole little weaning babes from their mother’s arms and spun silver out of corn! A beast that ate beating livers from stray canines, ordered temples to be built out of bones, a ghastly creation by a bored god with too much time on his irreligious hands. Frightful!

All this hearsay and word of the street, were tall and monstrous tales that were overrated in your educated opinion, when simply you required very little to be content with the ways and whims of the vast, wanton world. No new born lamb’s blood or poor, ill timed virgins sacrifices were necessary in your, for lack of a better word, creation. You were merely one breathing thing and then the next; though you’ve fallen out of the habit of remembering to breathe after a while. There was no shedding of skin, sweat producing prayer, or historically inaccurate rain dance that resembled the pirouettes of toeless ballerinas involved. You just were, and quite frankly, isn’t that enough? Existence is never enough is it, though? You just had to think, and speak, and do much more than simply exist; because no one can be happy with the mere existence of another; there just had to be more to it, had to be.

You still vaguely recall the moment where you realized that you were no longer tied down to the laws of the cycle of the unnatural thing called life; a thing like a dream someone else had and merely inflicted you with the useless knowledge. Still having no need for surplus of red blood cells or hastily made offerings of sweets to the traumatized gods; you recalled the transition and the fact that it was a boring process, with no set of rules, or instructions, or any way for you to fully understand exactly what happened. From one form of existence to a new one, like a crawling larvae to a flying insect with big beady eyes and a habit of crashing into windows.

You were in a battle field one moment fighting tooth and nail with a long sword, or a bow and arrow, or a scythe from your own garden, or a hatchet from your home; and the next, you watched your substantially short life flash before your eyes; when ebbingly, you realized that your wounds had closed up and the battle had unbeknown to you, ended. Something over nineteen years after your self assumed death, that is. Your body; with its two legs, two arms, two ears, and two perfectly functioning eyes; as long as it wasn’t pollen season, were still by fair means or foul, in tack. Much to your dismay, for you still felt cursed plague such as irritation, displeasurement, the action of rolling your eyes as an emotion, annoyance, exasperation, and worst of all a hankering for spearmint tea with a teaspoon of milk and a dash of honey. Unfortunately, only one of which was curable.

And while you contained a great many vapid opinions of the flutterings of wingless avians; one of their creations you could never develop a disdain for, for they were simply far too grand, great, and good, were cafes. Magnificent things created by an italian man, a french man, a german man, an Englishman, or a combination of the four, you hardly cared; were the very reason you still wished to see the light of day. Candidly, the comfort that came with cafes; roasting coffee beans with such sharp and acidic aromas, the tinkering of ceramic mugs with adorable little glazes, scrumptious sweeties and colorful pasties that settled against your mind like ringing gunshots to war torn innocent unimpeachables. Cafes were just delightful, there were no two ways about it; an unassailable fact.

That was why, today; sunny, cloudless, and boundless today with skies as blue as incest mutated eyes, you were enjoying a nostalgic drink at a nearby cafe. The coffee house was a mix between modern and vintage, though for a creature such as yourself, you could hardly tell the difference. Their teas and coffees, and assortment of beverages were made in the classic fashion from even as far back as your day, and that was saying something. The walls were painted with a deep maroon, a shade of fine wine on a brick of vinegar; except one, which was left a bare, textured concrete with growing vines and dangling fairy lights the color of loose leaf chamomile offering a soothing dim lighting. The tables and chairs and any sort of decor hung up on the ways were mismatched, not one thing belonging to another; not one round mahogany table with spanish carved to the legs matched with any neon cushioned seats that looked like something from a feverish dream. Four paned windows were like eyes towards the street front, small enough to see outside but with an air of privacy from the delicate handmade lace curtains that were tied up with a sash of the same design. You could see the wayward world beyond the door from the faux safety of your table; couples biking with helmets strapped on too tightly, dog walkers with malnourished dogs, and a quartet of friends that were so obviously in love with one another.

Their love for each other was so clear, the baristas behind the repurposed bar counter were making bets on who would be the first to cave and spill out their love like guts from a deep heat, blistering sword wound. The barista with dyed gray cornrows and nose piercings betted ten pounds on the tallest of the quartet, who couldn’t stop playing with something in his pocket; a nervous reaction to being around the people of his affections if you had to guess. The barista with the rigid scars falling like uncrossed tallies down her arms betted twenty pounds on the shortest of the quartet who seemed to be the glue holding the quartet together in the first place. You personally betted on the fellow trailing the group from behind, a brother of one of the quartet members; from the shared features, and an ex lover of another if you had to predict from the way he walked and looked at them with an unhealthy yearning. He was going to pull them apart and in return be left with nothing as they rebuilt what he had destroyed. You had an intuition for these sorts of things, the passing lives of strangers and what they decided to do with themselves with their limited time. It was game to you, their lives seemed to end in days like a good book that you can’t set down; and like a book, you could flip it close at any given time with a flick of your wrist.

Your attention was drawn back to the present by the sound of the cafe bell that rang out through the small room with high ceilings, the simple pulley system alerting the baristas and yourself of a new occupant. Your hand instinctively wrapped around your cup of spearmint tea with a teaspoon of milk and a dash of honey protectively. The heated ceramic warmed your otherwise cold skin, your whole body was icy to the touch; you had no need for impractical things like a respiratory system or body heat; they were merely things you did when you remembered to, a delayed afterthought.

Like socialization for one, speaking to others was not your cup of tea; quick compliments and orders were one thing, however holding conversations were another. You sat alone at your seat, a red velvet cushioned sofa pulled up against a square oak table. Not once have you attempted to make conversation or even make eye contact with any of your fellow cafe goers; when you know for a fact that you would have gotten along swimmingly, only you’re too afraid of starting anything that’s doomed to end. The immortal existence was a long one and it tended to feel more drawn out when you had no one to spend it with.

Too deep in thoughts; the depressing thing the living chose to lose themselves in; a subject that you have yet to be rid of, you didn’t notice when someone approached your table. Whoever stood in front of you stared at you for a moment as if to make sure you were real, something you had to do for yourself every now and again, before saying in an astonished tone full of life, “Hey, you look familiar. I’ve seen you somewhere, haven’t I?” You looked up to meet their eyes; taking note of a face that could blend in during any time period, during any moment; a dime a dozen, a face that could be recognized for hundreds of others. “Remember me? Peru, 1821?”

You were hard of memory despite the centuries of existence in your pocket; unable to ever recall important dates and places, or those deemed important by those who still pondered what after truly meant. No wars that had cost thousands if not millions of lives lingered in your narrow mind, no treaties that had never been written in the blood of the man holding the pen; no discoveries stolen from their true inventors and instead repurposed and rebranded. Naught of which mattered; were paramount enough to be stored in the file cabinets so old, they perhaps predated the university of oxford. Those with an expiration date, nitpicked which dates and places were worth keeping record of; which war really mattered to one side, but not the other, and most definitely not the third party who lost the most in terms of wealth during the whole skirmish. Which treaties were worth putting up an act of righteousness and which were lit to ashes the moment the feather left the parchment. Which discoveries to credit the inventor, or the distributor, or the man with the large enough pockets with lots of loyal friends with not quite, but still ever so deep pockets. You cared little for the whims of those who philosophized and wrote the inaccurate, hyperbolized tales of the lawless, anarchic children with graying hair, wrinkled skin, and groaning bones.

Instead, your quite narrow, yet wrinkled mind remembered the seemingly dull things in life that only an immortal and tired soul would recall. You remembered the estonian woman with thick curly hair who flustered when you commented on how her fetching silk blouse brought out the brown in her eyes, as if you had just seen her on your way here. You remembered the blazing, aged guinean sailor with hair as red as sedimentary clay layered with crimson and bone marrow, who tricked you out of the very last shining coin in your pocket that you had saved to return to the mainland; as if you had just spoken to him the week before last. You remembered the french street performers who gave you the most complexing, suspicious looks when you loitered as they tuned their instruments, your hands clapping and tossing coins into their open cases before they had even the chance to play their trip the light fantastic ditty; as if you had spotted them as you left your home for the day; perhaps because you had just spotted the cellist, violinist, and fiddler some hours prior.

But you just can’t seem to recall ever seeing the face in front of you besides that of the paintings reusing the same model over and over again. This person was familiar, that you knew for sure, but you couldn’t recall exactly where. 1821? Peru? You had gone to Peru before, you thought, you must’ve been everyone on the pandering planet at least once by now; statistically speaking. You existed during 1821, though you don’t recall much from the time besides some man being crowned king of some small islands, some paintings being painted, some lives being born, and some lives taking their last breath. Things that could have happened anywhere else in the woebegone world, during any time that your breathing counterparts inhaled and exhaled; a simple date and simple country rang no bells.

This person that approached you, must have known you, having recognized you and walked up to you free of will. Yet, as you stared at them, pondering how they must’ve known you after all these years, decades, and centuries without a mere mention of another immortal roaming the weak world; here you were, with another person just like you. It was astonishing, made your non beating heart skip a beat and stop again; because you’ve been so out of practice. It was almost unbelievable; a person with a limited mind would have fallen heart first into the claims and thought of them as gospel. You were not as blessed with the same ignorance that came as second nature to the rest of the parasitic population, because you recalled your trips to Peru; suddenly remembering just what you got yourself into in the year of 1821; you would have memorized a face like dozens of others; the similarities causing the sameness to be abstract. You would not have forgotten a face like that, a voice of naïve wonderment like the one you just heard. Immortality was not just something that was thrown like a swear, caught like a flu; there was no rhyme or reason to it. You would know; in the almost eight billion people in the wide, withering world you have not met another like you, and for this day, today; radiated, and diaphanous day with skies as blue as hypothermia stricken bodies; you were alone and had yet, still yet, to be proven otherwise.

You solemnly shook your head, having gotten your hopes up so far beyond the atmosphere; falling back down was misery like the first moment immortality had dawned upon you. This person must’ve mistaken you for someone else; a picture book with pages too bright to warrant your attention, a history book that pictured a person that shared your features or that of your long gone siblings who must have children because they were the type to yearn, and hope, dream, and live their lives instead of solely subsist; anyone but you. For you were alone on this endless path, just like how your life was now boundless, and had been for a while longer than you can remember. You cleared your throat, your voice unfortunately grating from years of hardly any use; hoping to make the interaction quick and to the point; something that was truthful and that would cut this painful conversation short so you could return to your envy filled hobby of assuming other individual’s lives because they had indisputable ends while you repeated in this endless pastime.

The person who claimed to share a curse with you, had a voice that rang out like a fencing rapier, cutting through the air with such precision that it hurt without even slashing against you; could stab you with words instead of metal, “I’ve seen you somewhere, haven’t I? Remember me? Peru, 1821?” And like a fencer running on the necessity for revenge for someone that wasn’t himself, you answered,

“No, I do gay porn.”

[sandoriyon-p]

selfish | carlos oliveira x reader [request]

Ah, yes, angst! Thank you so much, dear anon!... *grabby hands* Please, more, more of angst for my soul!

“How could you be this stupid?!”

“Yeah, yeah, you already asked that. It’s the fourth time now, stop repeating yourself.”

The sound of your arguing broke the silence in the underground the very moment you walked in. It wasn’t loud, but you had a feeling it was loud enough for people in the subway cars to hear it too. You wondered what they thought about such a situation - it didn’t take long to come with one, certainly a very right conclusion: they were very tired with the noise you two were making… and, honestly, so were you.

“Stop repeating myself? It’s not something I can stop talking about, not just like that! You nearly got yourself killed, Y/N!” You really wished Carlos would stop screaming right next to you - he made it so tempting to simply put your hands over your ears and ignore him.

At the same, you could see his hands gripping onto his gun harder than he should be, and yet, you said nothing to that. If he did that hard enough, maybe he would actually break it in half. And that would surely end “the discussion”.

In your shallow ignorance you tried to remember why Carlos was actually angry at you. Did you say something insulting? No, certainly not. Maybe you nearly shot him while aiming at a zombie? No, of course not. Your shooting skill was too sharp to make such a mistake.

What was it then?

Ah, you remembered, just in the same moment you heard a shout of your name.

You nearly got yourself killed, like Carlos said. Or maybe…?

The whole circumstance didn’t look that horrific. You two were supposed to leave the subway and clear the place around it from all undeads you could find. It sounded like a simple thing, but after a moment, you realized you could find a lot of supplies laying around too. Indeed, most of them were left next to zombies that, you were more than sure, were already taken care of.

Spotting the ammo for your gun, you swiftly moved to gather it. There was a zombie behind it, but that didn't concern you much. Still, you decided to use your knife first to see if it wouldn’t try to “wake up” suddenly. Three slashes met with no response; it was safe to make your move.

Yet, when you crouched down to take what you wanted, the changed civilian grabbed onto your leg suddenly. His teeth became visible, ready to drown into your skin, but you were faster. With a sharp tug, you quickly stepped back and put as many bullets as you had left in its head. 

Then… actually, no. You didn’t, in fact, get yourself killed. You just nearly got yourself bitten by a zombie.

What you did was stupid, yes, but you couldn’t leave the supplies behind, especially now, during a freaking apocalypse. At the same, even when you nearly got yourself bitten, you knew you had the whole situation completely under control. You were not a civilian anyway - you knew how to use a gun and protect yourself. You knew to be always aware of your surroundings, ready to jump into the action or escape a dangerous situation.

Carlos was exaggerating things, to put it simply - that was what you thought.

Yet, that didn’t annoy you (perhaps from his perspective the whole situation looked… much worse) - the fact that he didn’t want to stop talking about it was what made you annoyed.

You could hear him still speaking about your stupid action, how dangerous it was and how fatal it could end. His voice was too loud, it made your head throb.

You just wanted for him to stop pointing out your mistakes. For him to finally shut up.

Suddenly, you turned your whole body towards Carlos’ direction, making him stop in his tracks, “Listen, I know how dangerous it was, but should I really leave the supplies behind just like that? We’re in the middle of the apocalypse and you cannot rely forever on Umbrella to provide us stuff!”

The anger was written clearly on your face and Carlos saw it. Yet, that didn’t stop him from responding, with his voice loud and annoyed as yours, “You think that’s a good reason to get yourself into danger? No, it’s not! And you don’t even think how other people would react to such stupid acts of bravery!”

“I do it, all the time! I think about the others - I want to save them! But how in the world can I do that if I don’t have anything to protect them with?!”

The grip on his weapon became harder and harder - obviously he was trying to not the anger control him. So far, you had to say, he was doing a very poor job.

You wanted to use the moment of sudden silence to speak what you still had in mind, hoping it would finally end the discussion. However, Carlos was faster than you.

“Alright then, Y/N, go! Go outside and get yourself killed while gathering unnecessary supplies to protect the civilians! Be as selfish as you want to be!”

You heard him, clearer than everything else. His words made your blood freeze.

Enough was enough.

You wanted to say so many things, to explain yourself, to remind him you were a professional. However, you limited yourself with biting your lips, until they would bleed.

No words left you and, at the same time, you noticed a change in Carlos expression. It looked like… he regretted what he had said. You could see that in his next action as well, in how he suddenly stopped gripping onto his weapon and tried to approach you gently.

You wanted nothing of that. You just wanted to be alone. Far from him.

Remaining speechless, you firmly shook your head and turned around to walk further into the subway. Your tempo was fast, nearly resembling a run, but no matter how fast you were moving, you couldn’t escape Carlos and his calling for you to not go away, not now.

His earlier words, however, about your selfishness, about how you should just go out and get yourself killed, for real that time, were louder than your name on his lips.

Nobody asked a thing when you stepped into one of the subway cars. All of them seemed to act like they were very interested in something… something else than your and Carlos’ argument. Yet, you could still feel their curious stares on you. They probably thought that the fight was too serious to let your relationship survive.

To hell with them. They could think what they wanted and you wouldn’t give a damn.

The anger started to become weaker and weaker as you found an empty spot in the farthest part of the subway cart. You were alone and could finally gather your thoughts… to look at everything from Carlos’ perspective.

You knew he was… concerned about you. Maybe more than he should be.

Your relationship was still “fresh”, barely three months old. You were good friends first, sharing jokes during the hardest times or embraces during your “friendly dates”. 

But then, you both realized it wasn’t enough. You wanted to be together. To love each other, not just to like each other.

And God, you loved each other so much. That was more than certain. You always made sure to protect each other, to make sure the other would not end wounded. You were always… so protective of each other.

Protective and afraid that something awful would happen.

You and Carlos felt the constant fear - no matter what, it was always there. Waiting, to wake up in the worst moments. It invaded your dreams, making you see the situations where your lover would die, again and again, and you couldn’t do anything to stop that.

You and Carlos never wanted for those dreams to turn into reality. You tried really hard to never let those dreams turn into reality.

But that was nearly what you did. You nearly got yourself killed - because you forgot about the nightmares.

You were selfish and you let yourself forget about them. Forget about Carlos and his own fear. You were selfish because you put yourself under civilians and above your boyfriend. Above his own fears and nightmares.

Tears were falling down your cheeks, but you failed to notice them. 

Until someone, with a gentle touch, wiped them away.

Carlos was suddenly sitting next to you, leaning forward to catch a look at you while not invading your personal space. He held a soft smile, the softest you had ever seen on him, with his own eyes holding tears.

For a long moment, you two didn’t say anything. You simply sat in silence, looking at each other, trying to understand what the hearts could not say. It was comfortable, peaceful… loving.

Still without words, Carlos’ eyes fell on your hand. You could feel his hesitation as he moved his own hand towards yours, taking it gently. His fingers started to caress your skin slowly as his lips alternately fell open and became closed, again and again. It was obvious he was fighting with himself, looking for the right words to tell you. And you remained silent, waiting patiently for what he had to say.

Finally, Carlos took a long breath and looked into your eyes again, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I… shouldn’t have said all those things.” You knew it - you could see it in his expression. Yet, you still said nothing and he took that as a sign to continue, “I really shouldn’t have. And, of course, I didn’t mean those words - I don’t want you to go there, to risk your life like that. I don’t want you to die.”

You could see the tears in his eyes more clearly. They threatened to fall down his cheeks - they were actually falling down his cheeks, you realized. Yet, Carlos did nothing to wipe them away. He kept looking into your eyes, his voice so soft, so quiet, “I was scared. It was like my nightmare was so close to turn into reality. I saw you, getting bitten.” More tears started to fall down - they could be heard in his voice too, “I saw myself, killing you to not let you get transformed into it.”

A mere thought about it made you shudder; you knew Carlos noticed that. You knew he wanted to gather you into his arms to comfort you. To protect you from the nightmare that threatened to appear again.

And you let him do that.

The embrace was tight and yet no words of complaining left your lips. Instead, you hushed the man you loved, your hands resting on his back as his rested on your waist. Once again, you simply sat like that, in silence, comforting each other.

“That will never happen and you know it.” The words left your lips, softly, barely there, and they made Carlos embrace you even harder, “The nightmares we have will never turn into reality.”

You knew that he didn’t believe you, not completely. That it wouldn’t stop the tears from leaving your and his eyes. That you probably just wanted to comfort yourself and him, hoping it would keep the fear away.

But it was pointless, so, after a long moment, you let yourself capture his cheeks in your hands.

“I just need to remember the man who cares about me, who loves me, who wants for me to be safe. The man who I need to place above me as well.” And when his eyes found yours again, you smiled widely and added: “I’ll continue to be selfish, but I will not let his nightmares turn into reality.”

[darkestfable]

Safe Haven

Oribos

Raetos groaned as he found his way back to the waking world. He knew he was alive by how much his body ached. His head, most of all, felt like someone was hammering multiple nails in place. Only one luminous eye opened, the other still swollen shut under bandages wrapped around his head. His abdomen was also strapped tightly. He could feel the pressure of the wrappings limiting his movement, as to not aggravate what he assumed was broken ribs. The wound on his arm had been well cleaned and bandaged. Someone had been talking very good care of him.

He smiled, not having to wonder who, feeling the body curled up against his own. Tilting his head down, he caught a glimpse of the top of Fable’s head… there was no mistaking those lovely indigo locks. 

“How long have I been out?” He asked.

For just a moment, Fable grumbled and curled more tightly against Raetos. If this was a dream, he didn’t want to wake up. The hellscape that had been The Maw was no longer ringing in his ears, and his lover was by his side again. This had to be a dream. It was never this good.

Or was it?

The blood hunter finally peeled open his eyes, sitting up after a moment to look over the large lightforged next to him. His heart fluttered at the sight of his lover’s smile, and he reached over to lay a gentle hand onto his bandaged chest. This had been no small feat, what Raetos and the others had pulled off.

“Days, love. Take as long as you need, yeah? I ain’t goin’ nowhere,” Fable’s expression softened as he curled his fingers against the bandages on Raetos. Yep, still there. Still real.

The Draenei’s smile only grew wider as he reached up with his good hand to cup the side of his lover’s face. Raetos didn’t understand much of anything about death and spirits. But Fable looked well. Looked healthy. Better than he had in the Maw, for certain. 

“Careful what you say, Babe. I might ask to stay here forever,” he said, flashing his signature grin, “...wherever here is.” 

It suddenly dawned on him that they couldn’t be on Azeroth. They still had to find the soul dagger to get Fable his body back… and they obviously weren’t in the Maw anymore. Last thing he remembered was a very pissed off Avehi.

“Uh… where are we?”

“Oribos. Think that’s what they call it, anyway. Kinda a hub for uh...all sorts ‘a people,” Fable glanced at the door, as if the answer would be there. Truthfully, he’d been more worried about Raetos than asking about the name of the establishment.

He leaned over Raetos carefully to kiss him. Tender, sweet, and like he’d been afraid he’d never see him again. Everything had culminated to this point, and truthfully Fable wasn’t sure what he was doing. Getting out of The Maw had been his first task, but the blood hunter wasn’t sure if he could retrieve the dagger by himself. Wasn’t sure he’d want to do it alone. Doubt weighed heavily on him, tied down by the guilt of what he’d done to get here in the first place.

“Hey, love… You got my body, yeah? I’m gonna have somethin’ t’ go back home t’ when this shit is figured out? ‘n th’ animals are taken care of?” his voice was quiet, almost unsure. Fable loved their little life that they’d built, and still worried that he’d ruined it all.

“Mhm,” the Draenei managed a nod, thumb stroking his lover’s cheek, “The tree elf dude you got to take care of the animals while we were away agreed to stay as long as needed. I think we owe him a really REALLY big tip. Obligation and Responsibility really seems to like him, though, so don’t have to worry about them. Did you know he lived in that big ass tree that the Horde burned down? That’s where he got all the scars. Poor guy… Anyway, I was able to find your body at the dig site after going through your maps and stuff. Brought it to the healer chick that was deployed to Darkshire with me. You’re in a coma-like state back on Azeroth, and she’s keeping you nourished and stable until we manage to destroy that dagger.”

He paused in his rambling for a moment, knowing the next part was a bit touchy.

“Hey… uh… on that subject. Bad memories, I know. But like… anything you can tell me about the lady that stabbed you… physical description or name… if she gave you one…”

Another pause before adding.

“Was she hot? She must be hot.”

“Well, yeah… I mean it ain’t like I got bad taste,” Fable smirked, then paused a moment. “Wait, tree… They’re called Kal’dorei.”

The news of his body being taken care of was something of a relief, though the blood hunter still didn’t like the situation at all. Cebina had royally screwed him, and now he had to go find that dagger too? This was just getting more and more complicated…

“She uh… I’d know her if I saw her, yeah? While you were restin’ tho, I asked ‘round ‘bout the dagger ‘n souls ‘n shit ‘n this creepy lookin’ dude called a Venthyr told me ‘bout this place called Revandreth. Said a lady was there ‘n might have a dagger kinda like it?” Fable scratched at his chin in thought.

“Sounds like our next destination,” Raetos nodded, a cheerful smile on his face, “I know it’s not the best of situations, but we get to explore this whole new place together, and I’m sure we can get supplies so that you can map it all out.”

Obviously it would have been much more ideal to have Fable whole for the adventure, but there was no harm in seeing the bright side of the situation.

“Soon as moving doesn’t hurt anymore…” he winced as he shifted, “So... what’s a Venty. Not another type of elf, is it?—Not that there’s anything wrong with elves! There’s just so many different kinds and I can barely keep up with the ones I know.”

“Venthyr, luv. They’re like uh...anima vampires? Ain’t too clear on ‘em yet but I was watchin’ ‘em wander through Oribos while you were restin’,” Fable pulled out a notebook he’d obviously obtained here in the Shadowlands. A keen eye would notice that its leather bindings were a bit unlike any leather on Azeroth.

The first few pages were sloppy, slightly disproportionate sketches of the various different types of people he’d seen wandering through, along with notes of things he’d either overheard or asked them flat out. The page with the Venthyr man had no notes, however. Clearly, the hunter hadn’t approached him.

“They got fangs ‘n glowin’ eyes kinda, most of ‘em are real skinny. Nice clothes though, ‘n some of ‘em wear thigh high boots. Thinkin’ maybe I should get a pair?” the elf chuckled, leaning to stretch his leg out as far as he could, toes pointed.

“Babe, you would look hella amazing in those boots,” the Lightforged agreed, “Are there any with heels? If so, you should avoid them, because then, your already sexy ass will just look too good for me to resist. Afraid you won’t get anything done in that case.”

 His hand slipped down to give his partner’s behind a little squeeze, before he attempted to sit up. It was a more daunting task than anticipated with his injuries, but he managed. 

“Fashion sense aside, are these Venthyr people safe? The one you drew has like… an evil look to him. Or are they all that withered looking and ugly? Also, what’s anima? And what are the lampshades with legs that you drew in there?”

A smirk spread on his lips at the squeeze, but his attentions to the affections were pulled away when Raetos was trying to sit up. Fable assisted, but his brow furrowed in worry. Had his lover been hurt worse than initially thought? Damn it all, now he was fretting like a mother hen. The lampshades comment pulled the hunter out of his head though, and he just blinked for a moment before tilting the book towards him.

“The lampshades with legs? Oh, those?” Fable pointed at one of the doodles of a Broker. “They call themselves Brokers. They help facilitate trade of goods and services. Information too, ‘m sure. Ain’t got a chance to really chat jus’ yet.”

The concern crept up onto the elf’s face again, and he leaned over to kiss Raetos’ cheek.

“You doin’ okay? If you gotta rest…”

Raetos shook his head.

“Nah, just sore is all. The headache is the worst part, probably. Dude, Avehi hits -hard-! Did you see how pissed she was? Ha! Good times!” 

He smiled brightly to his lover, bringing his hand up to cup the side of his face again.

“Honestly, I’ve rested plenty. I just want to look at you,” he admitted, “I missed you so much, Bae… so don’t mind if all I want to do is cuddle and make out for a while.”

He paused, before adding with a wink.

“Wouldn’t hate a blow job either.”

The elf just smiled. That sappy, sweet, completely enraptured smile as he nuzzled into Raetos’ hand. It had felt like an eternity, fighting for his life. Being reunited had been on his mind the whole time, but even now Fable’s heart ached for the life they’d had before. Though, in the middle of his thoughts, a smirk broke through. That was the Raetos he knew.

“Oh, I’m sure you wouldn’t…” Fable turned his head to place a kiss in the palm of Raetos’ hand. “If it won’t hurt you, I’m gonna swallow you whole…”

“I mean… not like I can move much in these bandages,” he grinned, running his thumb along Fable’s bottom lip, “Doubt I’d be able to find a way to hurt myself.”

He paused as he  thought about that a moment.

“—Okay, so I would -probably-  find a way to hurt myself. But it would be hella worth it, though.”

Fable caught Raetos’ thumb between his lips, cerulean eyes closing as he pressed the barbell through his tongue against the calloused pad. A promise. As his lover spoke, the elf savored the taste of his flesh, finally opening his eyes to look up at him with a smirk. He released the thumb after a moment only to place a kiss into Raetos’ palm.

“Jus’ sit back ‘n enjoy then. You deserve t’ be worshipped,” he mumbled against the blue skin, continuing to kiss down from his hand to his wrist. Of course, he’d wait for permission.

It felt like lifetimes since he’d been away from Raetos, and only minutes that they’d been back together again. Fable felt that familiar skin hunger, but it had only gotten stronger after they were in safety, and he could touch and smell his lover again. The blood hunter had to remember to pace himself; Raetos was still recovering, and they were still in a strange place. But tomorrow could wait. Tonight belonged to them.

(Raetos is @raetos / @kidcatgemini )