#but I've also never like... written it down

[readychilledwine]

Idk if you do requests but holy shit you are amazing but like on the off chance you do I’m feral over this idea you would absolutely kill for cassian or Azriel

I’m dying for a smart ass foul mouthed girl in the dirty book club that’s like half his size to get him all worked up teasing him every time he sees her but when he finally gets her alone she literally was all talk and is clueless and timid and he blows her fucking mind

I talk a big game but it’s all a bit and I have zero confidence to back it up 😂

Bonus points and my first born for…

Dumbification

Big ole size kink

& a praise link to feed the ✨ daddy issues ✨

All For Show

Summary - Cassian has gotten tired of you and your pretty little mouth. He just had to wait for the right moment to correct it.

Warnings - smut, praise kink, degradation, slight dumbification, shy reader x bold cassian, fingering, oral (male and female receiving), implied size kink (little reader x big cassian), public-ish sex, unprotected sex, a hint of Voyeurism, best friend ex dynamic, loose editing, I'm probably missing some to be honest.. oh, gwyriel mentioned. I apologize if it isn't your preferred ship, but it felt right for this fic.

A/N - I've shamefully written this three times because I wanted bonus points while also giving it plot 😅

🗡Cassian Masterlist🗡Master Masterlist🗡

Your mouth was going to get you in trouble one of these days, but you couldn't bring yourself to care as you laughed with the Valkyries. 

The 4 of you were deep into your book club meeting, discussing the recent salacious read that had Gwyn’s cheeks matching that shade of red hair you'd grown to love so much. Emerie high fived you, fingers linking together as the newly added Pegasus charms on your woven friendship bracelets made a soft clink. 

You were bold, especially with these 3, and your interest in the sex scene you all had just read was immediately noticed. “I mean,” Nesta genuinely laughed, “Who wouldn't want to have sex with their mate in front of their equally attractive friends?”

Gwyn shrieked, “Nesta!”

A deep throat cleared at that, reminding the four of you that you were in an open room of the House of Wind. That Cassian and Azriel were sitting right next to you. Gwyn shrunk further into her chair, Azriel smirking and chuckling at his.. whatever they had decided they were today, meanwhile Cassian had his eyes locked on you, a brow raised as you began to play with that bracelet. Deep pink, deep orange, and a purple-y navy stared back at you, the blend reminding you of a sunset. “Something to say, General,” Nesta looked her former lover up and down. “Y/n isn't interested.”

Oh, but you were, and he wasn't blind to that. “Just think this is interesting, that's all,” he grumbled. “Especially considering, y/n gets flustered when someone so much as touches her hips to adjust her stance.” Your glare shot his way as your friends began to laugh. Azriel hid a chuckle behind his hand. The tension between you and Cassian had been growing, especially due to the private hand to hand lessons he was giving you. 

“You grabbed me by my inner thigh,” you retorted, eyes rolling.

“And you turned the same shade of red aa the threads on that bracelet Ness wears,” he stated. “You talk a big game, sweetheart. Someone is going to call you on your shit one day.” If you were a smarter female, you would have realized that was a warning. 

Cassian was showing no mercy the next night as he threw you to your hands and knees for the fourth time in your 2 hour session. “What the hell, Cass?!” You were panting as you sat back in your heels. “Did you not get the memo that I am just a girl?”

His eyes rolled, “Stand up.” The part of you that had never responded to demands well sent him a look, head tilted back to study his imposing frame. The look you gave him was enough to break his calm. He was a General, a commander, practiced and poised, but you were ruining him. The tension between the two of you was ruining him. He had denied himself so much in this life, lost so much more. Why deny both of you what he knew you both wanted?

“You know what,” he muttered more to himself than you. “I can't do this anymore.” A hand found its way into your hair, strands wrapping around strong fingers as he pulled you to one of the benches, forcing you between his legs as he sat. “Show me,” he demanded.

“What-”

“Show me what you brag to your little friends about. Show you these skills you think you have.”

Your flush began immediately, “Cassian-”

"I knew it," he interrupted you, “Admit you're inexperienced.”

“I'm not inexperienced! I'm just shy!”

He studied you, hazel eyes taking in every inch of your skin as if you were some display. Even with your clothing on, you had never felt more exposed under his gaze. “Shy but can run your mouth to Ness? To Gwynie? To Em? Are you shy or do my hands make you shy?”

That furthered the flush as said large hand pulled your hair, angling your head back to look at him. “Cass-”

“I'm so tired of hearing you speak.” His lips crashed on yours then, forcing you into his lap, legs straddling one of his much larger thighs. Even like this, Cassian towered over you, consumed your frame. You had never considered yourself the smallest female, but with Cassian? Every female could feel small with Cassian.

His free hand slid down, tracing the curve of your breast, your waist, your hips before grabbing and squeezing your left thigh, forcing it over his other leg so you were fully straddling him and open to him. 

He pulled back, lips still close as you tried to catch your breath, “Good,” he almost seemed to vibrate with his lust. “That's my Good Girl.” 

There was no patience as he pulled your training top off, no ceremony as he took your bra off after it. Cassian was a male in need, something you felt every time he moved and his hips ground his covered length against you. 

A silent prayer was sent to the Gods, thanking them for Nesta being in Autumn with Eris for the next week. While it didn't promise no one would walk into the training ring on you two, it did promise at least Nesta wouldn't. His mouth moved down your neck, kissing and nipping until he found the spot that had you melting to his form. “That's it,” his voice had grown deep as he licked at your skin. “Relax, sweetheart. Let me have you.” 

Maybe it was because your brain stopped functioning. Maybe it was because something in you just seemed to float in his presence, but you didn't remember getting laid back on the mat, nor your leather pants slowly removed inch by inch as he whispered praise. You didn't remember his own clothing meeting the pile of yours somewhere off to your side. But you remembered his kiss bringing you back to him, “So we go dumb?” He forced you to nod. “I bet you just love being cock drunk, don't you, princess,” the nod wasn't forced this time, his smirk growing as he looked to the sky as if to say his own thank you. 

His hands and lips explored every inch, the soft gasps and noises you made his consent, the way you squeezed his fingers encouragement. His tongue swirled your nipple, wetting the tender nerves before latching onto it, rolling and sucking. You couldn't help but arch your back, whispering his title, his name. 

“You sound like I imagined you would,” he murmured as he kissed his way to your other breast, offering the same treatment as his words shot to your core. He had imagined you. Imagined how you would sound below him, maybe on top of him. 

His kisses began to trail lower, paying extra attention to the sensitive spots he found. He stopped at the hem of your panties, eyes glancing to meet yours, “This is your chance to tell me to stop. If I keep going, that's it. It's you being manhandled by me until I'm done with you, understand?”

The whimper that left your throat at that was almost sinful, “Cassian, please.”

“Use your words,” he demanded. “Use that your mouth to tell me what you want done. You like to run it when you think I'm not listening. Talking about how you want to ride cock and be tied up and used like you aren't telling everyone my dreams.”

Another whine as he licked your core, protected from that skilled tongue by thin lace. “Words,” he demanded again.

“Please taste me.” The tear of fabric followed that plea, all caution thrown to the wind as he dived in. 

Cassian wanted to taste every inch of your core. His tongue running over the left side, the right, your clit, your wet entrance. Emerie had told you once enthusiastic partners made sex better and you knew why now. Cassian not only knew what he was doing, but it was clearly his pleasure to be doing it. Each plunge of his tongue inside of you was met with him moaning or groaning, lips vibrating the sensitive parts of your body and building the feeling desperation that slowly wanted to kick in. You sat up on your elbows, watching him as he glanced up, hazel eyes dark and watching your face. Each reaction was a reward to him, your heart seeming to tug at the pride gleaming in his eyes at each little noise that escaped you. 

No novel compared to this. 

No words could describe it. 

Your stomach was growing tight, head falling back as he feasted as if you were the most delicious meal he'd had in over 500 years of life. His lips wrapped around your bundle of nerves, tongue making half circle shapes around your far too aching clit as a thick finger ran your core and gently pushing in.

“Cassian,” your body seemed to shutter in pleasure, tightening around that single digit. “Cauldron fry me,” you moaned as he curled his finger up, immediately locating that special spot inside of you. 

This was just his finger. Just his finger had you feeling like you were stretching to a limit as he worked his tongue and hand in time, the band inside of you going taunt. He was careful as he added in a second, watching your face as if he knew. As if he could feel that little panic building in your mind. 

He washed it away as he changed how his tongue was moving, now giving teasing motions with just the tip directly where your body was screaming to be touched. He watched your eyes close, watched your guard drop as your hips moved, wanting to ride his face and fingers. He would have normally allowed it, but not this time. Not when he so desperately wanted control and to prove you were all talk. Not when he so desperately wanted you to be his. Your walls began to tighten again, his name becoming something you couldn't even finish as your gasps and panting increased. 

Then you tumbled. You fell from the edge, squeezing those two fingers so hard he struggled to work you through your high with them. His free forearm pushed down on your hips, forcing you to stay still and at his mercy. He only slowed down when your trembling did, fingers coming out of you so he could lick them clean, his own hazel eyes fluttering shut. He moved up, kissing you again and forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue. 

“Off,” you begged, mind going hazy as you tugged his own leathers. Your request was met, Cassian standing over you as you instantly moved to your knees, watching his hands unlace before pulling down. His cock stood hard for you. It was thick, long, veins in places you knew were going to touch the perfect spots inside of you. 

Cassian was larger than any male you'd ever been with, and it had been a while since you had been with anyone. He was a challenge, one you were prepared to meet as you felt your mind fully slip away. “Open,” he whispered. His own stomach flipped with excitement when you obeyed, hand grabbing your high ponytail as he moved his hips and your head forward. This was something you knew, mind immediately working on the sole goal of his pleasure as you began to lick and suck, head bobbing. His hips met your pace, not pushing or forcing. “Just like that, sweetheart. Putting that mouth to good use for once,” he groaned. He tasted of something purely Cassian. Of salt and power. “You look beautiful like this,” his hips increased slightly, encouraging you to do so as well. “Mouth wrapped around my cock, looking up at me with those pretty eyes. Such a good girl.” 

He wouldn't give you the satisfaction of making him finish like this. No. He wanted that to happen when he was buried inside of you, you ass bouncing with each thrust he would give you. He watched you closely as you sucked him off, tongue and lips wetting him until he was sure he wouldn't last if you kept going.

Whines of protest left you as he pulled you off, walking you the bench and forcing you to crawl with his grip on your hair. “Hands on the bench.” An order you were not dumb enough to deny, positioning yourself as he asked. He kneeled behind you, kissing your spine as he forced a knee up on the bench as well. It wasn't comfortable, but it would be effective. “Breathe.” Another command from the General of the Night Court as he lined up with you and began pushing in. 

“Gods!” Each inch of him seemed to knock the air from your lungs, your breathing ragged. “Cassian, I can't-”

“You can,” he silenced you. “Breathe. Breathe like we taught you.” He timed his entrance with each deep breath, groaning once he was fully inside of you. His hand went to the small of your stomach, dirty thoughts about wanting to be big enough he could feel and see himself inside of you.

The first rock of his hips had you almost shouting your moans. He reached places you'd never known. Places no one had ever touched. You were like a vice around him, the stretch burning and adding to your pleasure as he began to move, stroking that building fire with care. It didn't long for the training area to smell like sex. To be filled with the sounds of his deep groans, you gasps and pleads, the sounds of skin hitting. 

His hands reached forward, wanting more control of you as he grabbed your arms, holding and forcing them behind your back and making you arch more for him. Helpless. You were helpless. 

And that's when the Cassian Nesta had described to you all began. 

His thrusts became fast and hard, hitting your g spot over and over. His hand that wasn't holding your wrists found your throat, resting there and giving one squeeze to test the waters. You couldn't even moan his name anymore as that fire grew, all words were lost to you, all thoughts eddied before falling to silence. Your body wanted to feel. And feel you did. 

Every drag was a spark, every word he whispered in your ear a kindling. You would burn. You would burn alive if he didn't stop. That tension built again, faster than it had with any other partner. 

Cassian was a God. No one could convince you otherwise as those scarred lips pressed against your temple. “I won't last,” he muttered. “You're too warm. Too tight. You have me, princess. You and this pretty pussy.” He smirked as a wanton moan left your throat, the heat of his body sending you into overdrive. 

You wouldn't last either.

Frankly, you didn't want to. 

His hand squeezed your throat again, his pace becoming less patterned and wild. He was chasing your high like a predator closing in on its next meal, and when you seemed to freeze, body tensing before a scream tore through you, he served himself. 

“That's it, y/n. Doesn't that feel so right, angel? Falling apart with me inside of you,” he grunted as he fought off his own high. “You feel like heaven, y/n. So good, baby. So fucking good.” His voice prolonged your high, forcing you into a state of overstimulation. You collapsed against him, body putty to his will as he chased his own orgasm.

“Fuck,” he yelled before you felt him give one last hard push into you, warmth spreading as his spilled inside. His hands moved, one shooting out to wrap around your hips, forcing you to stay down. The one found the bench, stopping the forward motion from you both falling into it, protecting you even as his mind clouded to the feeling of you squeezing around him.

This didn't just feel like heaven. It was heaven. 

He moved your leg down once he was done, his hand now finding your chin to tilt your head and kiss you softly. “You did so well,” he said against your swollen lips. “So responsive for me. Felt so good. Was it good, sweetheart?” You only nodded, biting your lower lip as he showered you with more praises. “Let's get you dressed so I can get you in a bath.”

Your arms held his right one once you two were dressed and walking towards the house. He only paused when the door opened, and Azriel sighed, holding Gwyn against him as she blushed and squirmed, “You couldn't have kept going,” Azriel teased. “Gwyn was enjoying the show.” Your face fell, realizing you had been caught and watched. Teal eyes met yours, her own blush spreading out from where Azriel had a hand on her mouth. “Come on, my light,” Azriel purred to her. “Time to go do dagger training.”

Cassian laughed as he continued pulling you in the house, pulling you to his room, to his tub. 

You could face the consequences of Nesta potentially finding out later. All that mattered now was the feel of his hand, slipping down your body and below the water for round two.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

[crowley-winter-boots]

I would like to add my own take to some of these/further expand on what you have written.

Start stealing things from supermarkets and malls:

I've literally walked out of stores in the mall with unpayed items. Check for the chunky plastic white tags on it, or a silver sticker with a black dot: these will set off alarms when you leave the door and they are very difficult, if not impossible to take off without getting caught by employees. Supermarkets are more iffy, I've never stolen anything from one, but they have more cameras there. Small stores in malls typically don't, at least not any I can see, which I'm fairly certain it is illegal for stores to have hidden cameras. Wear baggy hoodies, you can slip something in your sleeve quickly. Basketball shorts, parachute pants, other bottoms with large pockets are great for slipping something in unnoticed. Also, DO NOT dwell on something too hard. It will make it more likely to get caught- act natural. A lot of people go into the mall just to browse, so it's perfectly normal to walk out without having bought a single thing.

Put stickers everywhere:

It is incredibly easy to make your own stickers. It is better if you have some artistic ability so you're able to format the sticker sheets properly, but it's fine if you don't have those skills. It's like a jigsaw puzzle, you'll have to rotate the images in weird angles and look for patterns of where one nook fits into one cranny. Repeating patterns are good, too. You just need sticker paper, a printer, and an app that you can import photos into and create the sticker sheets: I personally use Procreate, but that's because I use it for artwork and it was the easiest option on hand for me, personally. Ibis Paint X is free, a bit difficult to import photos in my opinion, but it works. I'm sure Word could work as well, though not as well. The less white space, the better, but make sure to leave enough room between each sticker as to have even borders all around. A common mistake I made when I first started making stickers was that I would accidentally overlap some stickers or make them touching.

Learn how to sew:

Here is a punk fashion tip: USE DENTAL FLOSS. I know, it sounds weird, but it's a great option. Cheaper than thread, you can buy it in bigger quantities, it lasts longer, it's sturdier, and overall just a really good option.

Furthermore, since I mentioned a punk fashion tip, I want to add my own way to protest here, as well as other DIY things you can do.

Battle vests/jackets are excellent. I'm making one, as well as my own patches to add to it. DO NOT put political statements or LGBT-oriented things on the back: this can, and will, put you in danger. Not only will you not see someone coming at you, but if someone sees it from the front, they are less likely to actually harm you since you can see them coming. There are some other punk DIY clothing you can make, including crust pants and just homemade patches to add onto something else. You also don't have to fit the "punk aesthetic" to be a punk: it's an ideology.

Some more punk fashion tips: You CAN paint on clothes and fabrics. Just add equal parts fabric softener to equal parts acrylic paints. This will prevent the paint from getting crunchy, make it last longer, prevent it from chipping, allow it to stretch with the fabric, and make it machine washable. You can also make homemade pins: acrylic paint, bottle caps, soda tabs, safety pins, modge podge, and a lot of hot glue. Put the safety pin through the soda tab, and glue the soda tab down with hot glue. Drown that shit in it- may seem unnecessary, but hot glue is stubborn with metal and does not want to stick. Do this BEFORE YOU PAINT, I made the mistake and everything peeled off because it warmed up and stuck to my table. When you're done painting, seal it with Modge Podge: it's a type of glue-like substance that seals paint, makes it shiny, prevents it from chipping and peeling, and makes it last longer.

Engage in art

Art does NOT have to be good. Art is about having fun and expressing yourself. It takes YEARS to become good at it, but even then there is always room to improve. Don't downplay your own efforts because someone else has skills you don't yet have. Get creative. Bring out those cheap art supplies extended family bought you on a whim when you were in grade school. Cut things up and glue them where they don't belong. Spill coffee on it, crumple the paper, and destroy it before using it as your canvas.

Be loud and obnoxious

This is one I'm adding in here myself. The right wants to claim queer people are shoving their agenda down their throats, but then wave MAGA flags and ask for heterosexual pride month? Wave those flags of yours, wear way too many (stolen, or DIY ofc) pins of pride flags and pronouns. Wear pride flags like capes. Dye your hair crazy colours, put on crazy makeup just to go out to the store. Being visible not only pisses off people that don't want to see us, but it also helps other people feel seen and safer. THIS CAN BE DANGEROUS. Like I said with the battle vests, YOU CAN GET ATTACKED.

I've been wearing my transgender pride flag to school. Pride flags are banned from being hung up, but nothing in the dress code prohibits it. This weekend, I will paint "WE THE PEOPLE" on the back of it. Teachers have pulled me aside only on the second day of wearing it, asking why. I've been called an "it" (doesn't misgender me anyway, I use it/its so jokes on them), someone (pitifully) attempted to throw food at me, people have been shouting "what the fuck" and "is that a trans flag?" in the halls, people have been sideyeing and staring at me. There have been good reactions too, of course, but I'm sharing my bad reactions to further imply doing this can be dangerous. I live in central Texas, for reference.

The negative reactions, since they have not directly harmed me, I choose to find funny. I laugh it off. I want people to see that being trans isn't something that can't be erased from existence. I want them to see people like me are not going anywhere.

Survive and be safe

Another personal addition- but DO NOT give up. I know that things are bad, and that things will get worse. But living is one of the things you can do to stick it to them. Listen to "Famous Last Words - My Chemical Romance", that song can probably explain this as well. Do not stop fighting, and do not stop living. Be safe, don't put yourself in unnecessary danger in this fight, because it's going to be a big one. Make sure your mental health is good, and if it's not do what you can to improve on it. Don't let the government tell you that you don't have a place here; because you do. Fuck the government. Queer people have existed since before the Ancient Greeks, it's visible in nature all around. Lions and hens have been known for transitioning to male without actually having the male reproductive systems. Penguins and walruses have been known for homosexual relationships. America is built upon immigrants- the original Americans ARE immigrants because they came from Europe to colonize these lands. America wouldn't exist without immigrants.

I hope the expansion on what Kurohe had written is alright/helps out! Be safe out there and be yourself. Don't water yourselves down for the sake of people who don't want to see you thrive.

Things you can do to actively participate in the revolution

Here's the list !

I know some of those will look really silly, i promise they are not. And obviously, this is not a checklist, you don't have to do everything. But they're steps that you can absolutely take if you wish to, and they WILL help.

(i am continually correcting things when people point out mistakes. Thanks everyone for your help)

(under the cut !)

1) Let's start off with a very easy one you can do right now: stop using Chrome. It's a google owned browser, and it sents all of your data towards it. Mozilla is a very good replacement, but almost anything will do, really. We revolting against capitalism as a whole, and this is a good first step

Also, resign your amazon prime subscription.

2) Start stealing things from supermarkets and malls. I am not kidding. Little things, that aren't really monitored: a can of food, a lighter, a pair of socks. Condiments are particularly easy to hide in bags or pockets. Steal hygiene products, steal food.

Remember that you should have access to those for free, and you don't because a few rich guys don't want you to.

Additional tip: train station stores are very easy to steal from, because they're so busy. But don't put yourself in danger. Check beforehand if they check bags at checkout, look out for employees that might notice what you're doing. Don't be reckless.

(edit: this used to also say airports, but i've been told it's way too high risk as it's considered a federal crime. Thanks for letting me know)

3) In the same line, if you see someone stealing anything from a big store, no you didn't.

4) I know a lot of people are scared of disrespecting rules. By fear of being caught, or by guilt. My advice is: start disrespecting stupid, meaningless rules. I don't have specific exemples, but you'll encounter them and wonder why you're doing that. Stop doing it. This will train you to be able to disobey autority way easier.

5) Put stickers everywhere. If you already have them, go ham. Especially on public property (lamposts are amazing). If you don't, buy them from artists or independant stores, not big brands. If you cannot afford them, remember that you can simply write stuff on an A4 paper and plaster it to walls. Or even post its !

6) Carry a sharpie with you at all time, the big black ones. If you see propaganda, scribble it out. Keep a look out for terfs stickers, maga posters, etc. Also good for getting rid of transphobic and sexist stuff written on public restroom stalls !

8) Learn how to sew. I know, that sounds dumb ! But i promise you, not only will it be amazing to trade with other people ("i'll sew back ur shirt and in exchange, you give me a can of peaches !"), corporations also haaaate when you know how to fix your clothes. Because they want you to buy more. You'll spend a lot less money if you know how to fix em

7) Buy locally. This means going to the market or small stores, and thrifting your clothes. If you can't for money or accessibility reasons, try trading with your friends, family and neighbours. Get communication going in your circles, and you'll realise there are a lot of things that you can simply trade with or buy from people around you. Like a jar of jam against some eggs, or a pair of socks for a t-shirt you don't wear anymore !

9) If you have the space and the money, grow your own food, and share it or sell it around you. Be careful, some assholes will call the FDA on you. Do that with people you trust.

Additional tip: growing vegetables and fruits can be a real nightmare. You can absolutely start by just growing some basil or mint :)

10) Organise. Join leftist groups online, even if it's just to see what's being said, you don't even need to interact. Follow creators, repost and share their content. By doing that, you'll stay informed on group movements like strikes, protests and boycotts, which you can then participate in. It's very important you're connected to other ppl and the movements that are started !

11) Unionize. I'm very sorry I don't know the exact way unions work in the US, but if you can, join one. They will help you in times of needs, especially if you're a student or a worker. If you're not sure how to do that, absolutely ask around to people you know are very active politically, around you or online. People will help.

12) Stay. Informed. Follow independant papers and news outlet. If you can afford it, give them a dollar or two. They are fighting everyday for access to unbiased information for all, and sadly, their independance means that they rely almost entirely on donations and people simply engaging with what they put out.

If you can't access those: do not get your news from TV. Ever. Or anywhere else that has been bought by the far right. Sadly, the majority of TV channels are just the worst.

13) Share that information. Talk to those you trust and who are ready to listen to you, and tell them about what's happening. Get angry with them. Revolution stems from people coming together and realising that they're being used and profited off of. Share videos and posts relating to politics, especially informative videos.

And, most importantly: fact check. All of the time.

14) Go to protests ! If you've never been, i know it can be scary. But you can stay in the middle (don't go all the way to the front, that's where stuff can get heated) and scream and walk with everyone else. You'll meet people who, like you, want things to change. Capitalism wants you to stay as unconnected to others as possible, and that's a great way to fight that.

Sometimes, there are sites that have a planning for all protests happening in a city. Look up if one exists for yours

15) Create and strenghten community. I know i really struggled with this one, because it's so vague. But here's a few places you can start:

-Go and introduce yourself to your neighbours, if you deem it safe. Give them a little gift if you can afford it, like a pack of pasta.

-Make new friends, even if they aren't deep friendships. You need connections. Online or irl, both are fine- don't stay isolated.

-If you already have community, go check on them right now. Ask your friends how they're doing, and if they need anything- ask how they're being impacted by what's happening right now politically.

16) Look for ways to fuck over the institutions in easy ways. One example that went around tumblr a lot is letting dandelions grow in your backyard, because landlords fucking hate it. If you work in retail or fast food, cheat. Accidentally forget to scan the diapers. Put in 7 nuggets instead of 6.

17) Engage in art. MAKE art. Music, shitty paint drawings, craft, anything as long as you're being creative. Share it. If you feel like you can't do that, then support artists. Make a point to look up cool illustrations, and new music. Go to the cinema.

(edit: been told that it's very risky for walmart workers to not scan things, so beware.)

If you're an artist currently in an underpaid office job, please, by the love of god, be creative during office hours. You're underpaid, they do not deserve your full time and attention. Take 30 minutes to write that snippet you've been thinking about.

(and actually, if you're underpaid at all: do the minimum required. So that you can't be fired, but that's it. Any more effort is not worth it. Companies will never be thankful for what you do.)

18) Look up books that your state banned, and go read them. You can get them secondhand, or as pdfs online. (if anyone needs ressources, i will glady look for and share them.)

19) Seek education. There's a lot of youtube channels out there talking about educational subjects in a fun way. Some things the rich assholes who run the country specifically don't want you to learn more about are: biology, history and archeology, social and economic sciences. GO LEARN ABOUT THOSE.

And, actually, read books in general if you can. Yes, fanfics count !

The people in power don't want you to be educated. It's why they eviscerated the education system.

20) PIRATE. I cannot stress this enough, anything you can pirate (that isn't from small, indie creators, except if you absolutely can't afford it) do it. Download music illegally, torrent movies and games. If you want access to academical studies and papers, some writers will give them to you for free if you email them about it. There are also ways to go around paywalls.

21) Don't fall for the traps of "progressive brands". Lately, i've seen a lot of praise for Ben and Jerry's for openly supporting lgbtq rights and being globally anti-trump. They are still a brand. Avoid buying from any big names when you can. That being said, if you have to, check beforehand which ones and what their history is. Some are more evil than others.

Additional tip: a lot of brands you see in stores are actually owned by bigger brands. One prime example of this is Nestle, who are fucking evil, but they own a shitload of other big names. Be careful what you buy.

22) I hate to say this, but be prepared to defend yourself. Revolutions are never peaceful. You will get in danger. If you can, get in ok physical shape. If you can't, buy a gun. (Remember Alabama has a 99% acceptation rate, you can get one in 10 minutes.) I hate firearms, but the enemy will have them too. Arm yourself.

If none of those are available options to you, please, make sure you have someone around you that will be able to protect you, or a place where you can be safe. Whether you are disabled, a minor, or anything else. Don't put yourself in more danger than is necessary.

23) Last but not least, be kind. When someone cuts off a woman speaking, interrupt and give her the floor back. Shame those who think it's right to say bigoted shit in public. Listen to those around you. If you can't act, then remember to always have empathy for the homeless, for drug users, for immigrants. Understand they are people just like you. You are not immune to propaganda and prejudice, no matter who you are. Always question yourself and your biases.

(if you've read this far, please repost. We need this to reach as many people as possible)

I want to remind you that you're not alone. I know things seem hopeless, but the simple fact that you're reading this is proof it's not. I don't live in the US, but i'm supporting you as best i can from where i am, and sending you strenght.

If you have any questions, do ask away. I'll end on this image that's very dear to me:

[ebsmind]

⏾ SOMEWHERE IN THE HAZE, GOT A SENSE I'VE BEEN BETRAYED | jack hughes x singer!reader

summary : how y/n found out vince cheated the first time

word count : 1.3k

warning(s) : cheating (poor baby y/n ☹️), arguing, mentions of k wording Vince, Vince is a fucking asshole (sorry lol), crying (i hate to see my baby sad)

a/n : AHHHHHHH okay okay this is my first written part and I hope I did it justice bc as much as I love angst, it's hard to write it! anyways, I'm glad I decided to do this because it challenges me to not only go deeper for yall to understand reader it also kinda makes you see what she had to put up with (what the fuck vince) okay that's all I had to say! send me asks about this series bc I love talking about teehee OKAY BYE ILY

series masterlist

The stars glisten upon the midnight-colored skies. The clock that sits on your nightstand on the right side of the bed, has officially struck midnight, signifying a new day. You turn a page of the book you're reading, And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie, a re-read. The early January winds whip through the city of Seattle. Draped upon you is a lavender-colored fuzzy knitted blanket. Handmade by Vince's mom, Tracy.

In the far distance, you can hear the water leaving the showerhead; Vince is taking a shower. The thought of joining him crosses your mind, but you shake the thought away and continue reading. You go to turn the 129th page, but Vince's phone dings before the next page is revealed. It takes a small fragment of a moment for your eyes to find where it sits. Once you do, you make a B-line to its location. You don't notice how his phone was placed face down until you reach the dresser.

Your eyes burn holes into the back of the phone. The clock is ticking. The more time passes, the less time you have to decide whether or not you're going to snoop through your boyfriend's phone. Your internal dialogue fights between two actions: Pick up the phone and read the text messages waiting for a response, or ignore it and continue reading your book. The little devil on your right shoulder wins the battle.

Before you even think about any consequences if Vince were to catch you, you find your right hand already reaching for the phone. The screen illuminates your face, reflecting against the blue lenses that sit across the bridge of your nose. The first thing you notice is the time, 12:34 am. Who in the hell is texting him at this time? The second thing you notice is how Vince no longer has you as his lock screen. Instead, you're faced with a picture of him on a golf course with some of his buddies. If it weren't for the worry about who was texting Vince this late a night, you probably would have cared. The third and final thing you notice is the simple "D" that had given him a notification four minutes ago. You don't have to unlock Vince's phone to read the message, FaceID recognized your face the moment you picked up the phone.

D

goodnight, can't wait to see you tomorrow 💋

*one image*

Waves of anxiety hit you like a tsunami. You reread the text message over and over, thinking that it'll change every time your eyes scan the last half of the message. It's imprinted into your mind, no matter how hard you try, it will never go away. The thought of pressing the message to fully see the picture makes bile rise up in your throat. Knowing it most likely contained some type of nude picture. Whether it was a picture of some nice expensive midnight blue lingerie, maybe even clear water teal, or a picture of the girl's tits, it was going to taint you for eternity. You weren't stupid. Things like this happen to stupid girls, but not you. It couldn't.

You don't hear the water coming to an abrupt stop or Vince walk into the room until he questions what you're doing. "Why do you have my phone?"

Your head whips up to where Vince stands, at the door frame that connects his master bedroom to the master bathroom. His light caramel curls rest on his forehead, beads of water drip down his chest, and his right hand rests on the knot in the towel that's wrapped around his waist. You don't realize the tears that started falling just moments ago until Vince asks, "Why are you crying?"

The gut-wrenching sadness you once felt slowly simmers down and a deep rust color of rage clouds your vision. Without delay, you chuck Vince's phone at his chest and scoff.

"Why do you fucking think?" You wipe the tears that stream down your face with the sleeve of your cream-colored cotton long sleeve, mascara ruins the once-clean shirt. Vince contemplates whether he wants to deny or openly be truthful with you, he unfortunately chooses the first option.

"Babe, come on!" He looks away from the lasers that are practically coming out of your eyes. He knows deep down he's screwed.

"No, Vince! You fucking listen to me! You better be so fucking grateful that I leave first thing in the morning because I'd probably kill you if I didn't!" Lungs working overtime so you can get all of that out in one go. Vince still stands at the doorframe, he doesn't plan on moving anytime soon.

"Who is she?" The question leaves your mouth under a breath, afraid of the answer that might leave Vince's mouth.

"I'm not telling you that." It leaves Vince's mouth at lightning speed, but you move even faster. Your feet carry you rapidly to where Vince stands, once he's in arm's reach, your hands start hitting his chest. You switch between curling your hands into a fist and punching, to slapping his chest. Uncontrollable sobs leave the depths of your chest, and tears cloud your vision to the point where you can only make out the silhouette of the man you never would have thought would betray you.

"I lo-lo-loved you! An-and you d-d-do this to me?!" Your sobs interrupt your ability to say the sentence in one go. Your body finally begins to feel the heartbreak. Your chest and nostrils burn, your head finally starts to pound, and your legs start to feel like jelly. Letting the sobs control your body and legs giving out, you finally accept defeat.

Your eyes close and you start to drop to the ground, this is a fight you aren't going to win. You wait for your body to hit the ground but it never comes, instead you're met with Vince's damp hands on your arms. He steadies you, "Woah, hey there. You're okay I got you."

Wasting no time, you shove the 6'0 man off of you, and before he can say anything else you spit out, "Don't fucking touch me."

Vince puts his hands up in defeat, "Okay! okay, I won't." Following Vince's response, you dash your way to the front door. The professional hockey player follows hot in your trail.

"Hey hey hey! Where are you going?" He tries to grab a hold of your shoulder to turn you around, your reflexes do you wonder and you shove his hand with all the willpower you have left. Disregarding Vince's question, you take your purse and suitcase -which had been placed right next to the door after you finished packing before you got into bed.

"I'm staying at a hotel for the night." Exhaustion hits your body, a bed -not Vince's- sounds amazing right now.

"No, stay. You leave in the morning."

"I'd rather be in some cheap hotel than spend another night with you." The backhanded comment leaves the boy stunned, you take it as your chance to finally leave. You unlock the door and guide your suitcase to follow you out the door. Vince never intervenes. You don't even bother looking back when you slam the door in his face.

Adrenaline courses through your veins, it doesn't dissipate until you're sat on a hotel bed. The mattress is hard, but you've gotten used to it when touring throughout your career. You take notice that the comforter won't do you any justice during the night but that isn't the first thing that's disappointed you today. Tears that stopped falling start to pour again, your chest aches and your heart feels like it's missing. You take a moment to finally acknowledge everything that had happened 25 minutes ago, and once you forcefully come to terms with it, you fall into a deep sleep. Not noticing the 64 missed calls and messages from Vince.

[dapper-lil-arts]

I find it kind of funny how, when you really think about it, Celestia is a really complex and layered character with a lot of emotional depths to explore (the pain she endured from having to banish her own sister, the pressure and responsibility she bears as the ruler of a kingdom, the betrayal she felt at Sunsets turn, etc.) and yet all of that is overshadowed by how easily she gets bodied at every possible turn.

Like, out of every major villain encounter in the show, she was really only helpful in like, what…Two of them? Maybe? The rest of the time she just shows up for a split-second and then *BAM* instant knockout.

I understand that from a writing perspective you have to find ways of removing her from these conflicts so that the main characters can have the focus (that’s also a major problem that Discord has post-redemption) but at a certain point it just becomes a thing of “man, you really can’t do ANYTHING on your own, huh?”

It becomes clear that the show didn’t quite know what to do with her once Twilight became a princess, and so they leaned more into her goofball tendencies (which I personally loved, but I could see others being annoyed by it) and it just makes me wish we could’ve gotten at least one more episode for her to really shine, like in Celestial Advice.

Anyways, ramble over, just wanted to say that I have nothing but respect for our dearly beloved Princess Fraudlestia 🫶💛

I think the showrunners lacked imagination and creativity regarding her and whenever they wanted to prop up a character, they preffered to knock down another character for that to happen. For example, everyone loses to Chrysalis off screen just so starlight can beat chrysalis with a few friends, it just isnt very creative or compelling Celestia suffered from this long before Twilight became a Princess, too. Hell, on episode friggin 1 Nightmare Moon returns amd Celestia doesn't show her face until she's been defeated, on Discord's episode she decides to literally only send letters to twilight instead of tryin to face discord herself in any way lmao. She's smart for that, thats for sure

I've written Celestia a couple dozen times, but I never ever want to just cut her out of a fight or a struggle just to make another character look better. And hell I don't even use the old superman excuse where she 'doesnt interfere bc if she goes all out she'll be too powerful and kill everything' she's a thousand years old! She's had centuries to refine her power and capabilities!

But I digress. My response to "This show does a character dirty" is never to take that in face value and interpret them as dirty too. Like, just bc the show tells me Cozy Glow deserves to be in Tartarus, doesn't mean I'll blindly believe them >:/ Just because the show tells me Celestia is useless doesn't mean I'll blindly accept it! After all, useless fraudlestia ran Equestria for a 1000 years. Perfect Twilight Sparkle didn't even canonically last 100.

[kradogsrats]

Just a Quick Revisit of the Rolly-Cube

Looking at the cube roll scene in s6e2 again because honestly I'm still kind of mad that I whiffed it so hard.

So the first and only other place we see this feature of the Key explicitly referenced is in Callum's Spellbook, where he notes:

I've been noticing that something interesting happens whenever I roll the cube on the ground. It leaves marks pointing in the same direction every time. Once we got to Xadia, the marks started getting longer, but still pointed in the same direction. Is the cube BEING PULLED SOMEWHERE?

It's hard to pinpoint exactly when Callum's Spellbook is "set," but most of it is written as if referencing a point shortly before the Battle of the Storm Spire. It doesn't get any later than that, at least. The pages about the Key do reference Harrow wanting Callum to have it, and then "once we got to Xadia," so they can't be from any earlier than early s3.

By the start of s4, Callum would also only have visited at most three of the marked locations on his map: the Cursed Caldera, the Storm Spire, and maybe the vicinity of Lux Aurea. He also, at that point, has never heard the name "Aaravos" anywhere beyond the single reference in Harrow's letter. He stops to pick up the mirror because of its association with "Fallen Star," and grabs the Key on his way out—hey, the gang's back together(?) for a road trip through Xadia, might as well bring it along for old times' sake.

Anyway, I think we can conclude that Callum didn't pursue or even really think about the Key during the two-year period between s3 and s4. For one thing, it's something that reminds him of Rayla, so he probably doesn't want to think about it. He also has plenty of other stuff going on to occupy him—being high mage, the mirror, researching primal arcana that are not Moon... the Key is a low-priority curiosity compared to all the other stuff he has access to, now.

Obviously, s4 then properly kicks off the "Mystery of Aaravos," and suddenly it's relevant again.

When he returns to it in s6, we get this literally 30-second scene involving what's actually a kind of weird sequence of actions and reactions. He rolls the Key and it makes a sequence of visible marks:

He then picks up his pencil and we cut to the book, in a way where it's not actually clear whether or not he writes anything down (but presumably he does):

He checks the other page, and only then does he mark his current location with an X on the map... as a two-line X, not the outlined cross in his little chart:

Finally, he picks up the Key again and looks from it to his map like he has received some unexpected and confusing result:

So like... look, I don't think I was totally insane for interpreting that as "Callum is marking the location derived from the Key's rolling on the map," rather than him apparently adding a new entry to his data and recording the marks before marking on the map where the data was collected.

What's interesting to me now, though, is why is he so baffled by this?

Here's a theory: the Key has two main associations, those being Aaravos and the primal sources. Callum has, up until this moment, only been recording the Key's behavior at the primal nexuses: Lux Aurea, the Storm Spire, Umber Tor, and the Cursed Caldera. He obviously had the Key on his mind at Umber Tor, and it's entirely possible it only occurred to him then, given everyone's sudden preoccupation with maps, to start keeping that record.

I think what might be surprising him here is that he's not at a nexus, and yet has gotten a new set of marks. He's only now connecting that they converge on a single location from anywhere else on the map. After all, he could have pinpointed the intersection of the lines from basically any two other nexuses. He could literally have rolled the Key at the Storm Spire at the end of s3 and then the Cursed Caldera in Through the Moon and already been done. (Though it's always smart to collect more data.) So there's some reason it takes until s7 for him to do this:

We also see here that there's a sixth point added, from somewhere in the same vicinity as the Cursed Caldera—presumably the Banther Lodge or similar, now that he's finally sat down to pull together some results.

The two immediate problems with this theory are a) it's a pretty significant regression from where he was in Callum's Spellbook as far as figuring out what's going on, and b) as of s6e2, he hasn't been back to the Moon Nexus. The Moon Nexus issue could be explained away as him having pre-s4 records from there and the Storm Spire that he dug up after the fact to add to his data pool.

As far as Callum's Spellbook is concerned, I'm willing to accept some fuzziness in maintaining consistency on something like this—the way its described isn't very clear or consistent with what we see in s6e2 anyway, in terms of how the marks appear. (Callum also does not approach the question with any real degree of scientific rigor.) After all, the way it's shown in s6e2 also doesn't match the way it's shown in *checks watch* s2e7, which is the first place in the series itself it's implicitly referenced:

It's obviously a plot point that has always been intended, but the exact way it manifests and appears has drifted a bit... which is fine, it's not the first time that has happened.

Also I checked and the way Callum has written "Elarion!!" with double exclamation points does ultimately suggest to me that the "Ruins of Elarion" map location is known to the characters. The other option—that the location of Elarion had been lost, and Callum is speculating that the Key's target is the city itself—would make sense if the note was "Elarion?" or similar, but with the association between Aaravos and Elarion not actually being known to the characters, it would also be a bit of a leap for him to be making. Without that association, there also isn't any real reason for Callum or anyone to go to Elarion's location... until now, when it's finally linked to Aaravos through the Key. With the countdown already ticking and the archdragons gone (along with all their knowledge of Aaravos), it's actually probably their best lead aside from a return trip to the Starscraper.

Of course, now we have the problem that whatever they find there needs to involve seven years of delayed resolution, but hey...

Anyway, not really anything revelatory here, just me going back to lay out and understand where the characters themselves are coming from on finally figuring out shit that we've been Chekov's Gun anticipating for literal years.

[betweenthescarletmoon]

hello fellow mutual from tiktok!!! I am so happy to see you put your thoughts here, i feel it was much harder for us to discuss jayce over there!

I agree with everything you said. A fourth act would've worked wonders for Every Character, not just him. And it does anger me so much that Jayce wasn't seen nor Written as a profound character because of s1. I wish i could have a talk with Christopher Linke about this

The idea that people can only like characters because they're attractive to lessen the load of digesting media is imo most likely the Editing Effect of inatagram and tiktok. It pains me to say but i do wonder if arcane came out by the time we as a generation watched AMVs and 7min edits on youtube instead (or at least i did). Maybe then people would have more profound thoughts on all the characters, including Vi, Jinx, Silco, Mel. And i am glad we can discuss things more over here, but it's still not as common to discuss and analyze as it used to be either.

You've mentioned one of my biggest gripes with fandom interpretation in the cave, WHO would debate bisexuality when they have nothing left but the crumbling inner workings of their mind, building the last comfort it can?? Thank you, i really like the idea that he also found himself resenting them, that is actually a much closer observation to how he Looks at them. I truly like that transition from his tears (which represent his old, vulnerable, sweet self) to that colder bitterness that guides him for the rest of the season (until we get the ending, which from a character narrative standpoint, doesn't make sense to me tbh).

Here's the thing, I've also placed myself in the difficult position of liking those thirst edits, saving them in a folder called "thirst traps" to keep them apart from my Real Jayce Folder, laughing at some of the "why trauma jayce kinda" and the like...while also deep down just feeling so empty and sad about it but feeling like there was nothing i could do about it? I don't wanna be dramatic but it Felt isolating. And maybe it does make me a hypocrite! Conformity and yadda yadda, but i cannot imagine that Jayce was designed to not be hot. I believe that was fully intentional, but i also thought that they were prioritizing his character. When i first saw act 2, i didn't know his agency would be obliterated and his arc ripped from his hands to place it solely on Viktor's. So now it feels even worse, that That is what the writers used him for too. And people are completely fine with it! They're so happy about the soulmates.

Your observations about him not stopping and being stuck in survival mode bring me clarity fr. He's never truly been a man about rest, was he? Perhaps that was his main trauma response all along, sacrificing sleep and Academy grades to get Hextech running, almost killing himself the moment he felt he lost it. Of course he'd do that at a more extreme level, but because act 3 doesn't rest or let the story breathe, i frankly didn't interpret it as that, it just felt like he conveniently stopped being mentally ill to give a speech and fight the war 😂 if he survived, he probably wouldn't have stopped, because stopping meant that PTSD would rear its ugly head. But the tragedy of it all Was that he died. Saving the world yes, but it feels so empty and cruel that he suffered so much just to die. No real accomplishment or meaning, just him serving the narrative and saving Viktor.

PS : i adore viktor i really do but it's getting hard not to resent him bc of what the writers did to butcher him, and how they stripped jayce of everything he was outside of him. I still love him! I promise!

And mutual! If you wanna keep talking in DMs you are welcome to!!

Random Thoughts on the Arcane Fandom about Jayce

this is gonna be a mess but I have nowhere else to talk about this.

I've recently noticed how Jayce Talis has been subjected to all kinds of sexualization since the drop of Act 2 of the second season. People have mentioned many times how trauma has made him "hot". A good and well-known example of this is Danny Motta's reaction to episode 5, where he said, "Holy shit, they made Jayce hot! [...] My dude went from looking like a Muppet to the king of Rohan, and all it took was a little bit of trauma."

This isn't entirely new for him? If people didn't hate Jayce back in S1, they ogled him in the scene where he works on the Forge shirtless, which IS kinda the point because the animators are making him very obviously attractive. But most importantly, he as a character has been reduced to his sexual or romantic relationships since the beginning of time.

It seems that S2 is a response to this in a way. His arc from the ending of S1, where he took responsibility of his actions out of guilt for the child he killed, was slightly set aside for Viktor. Well, ALL of his life, dreams, decisions, everything about him was eclipsed by Viktor's shadow because of the whole "all times, all possibilities" twist. He wasn't expected to show up as a Councilor in any of the meetings, and we must assume he quits at some point, but he surely hasn't resigned from his position by the time Viktor wakes up. Apart from that much needed scene between him and Cait, and the one where he attends the memorial (and is attacked by a vengeful mother), we don't see many of his decisions or what leads him to make them, other than Viktor. This is beautiful in a way because we can SEE how it is a trauma response to losing him. He is obsessive by nature, and he clings to what keeps him and his loved ones safe excessively, but I still had to do a bit of mental gymnastics as to why he went back on the second promise: to not build Hextech weapons again. (Hint: it has to do with the fact that VI saved him with HIS weapon, but it went so fast it's hard to process in the first watch.)

Now back to the sexualization problem. Every time I look up his name and trauma, or PTSD, 95% of the results are thirst edits on Tiktok about how hot he is. No joke. One of the more serious results is my own edit. Of course, a lot of people connect with his suffering without naming it as trauma, and that is great. My concern is that there has been so much focus on Jinx's trauma, Viktor's trauma, even Silco's trauma (which are all valid and fascinating to explore), but there's less attention for other characters who clearly show how their own traumatic experiences has shaped them. Vi, Caitlyn, and Jayce are some of the clearest examples of this, and they've experienced some truly heinous things in the show. Trauma cannot be compared, ever. But why is it that Jayce, who lived through an apocalypse that HE knows HE caused, and lives in complete isolation except the "company" of metal watchers, to the point that he loses touch with reality, and is changed so irrevocably that he loses the naivety and starry-eyed optimism that has always defined him...is seen as hot? And more importantly, why is it that there is very little attention to his experiences on that cave? Every scene between him and Viktor is uploaded in 1080 HD quality, but the scenes of him alone? Fighting to survive? Showing remarkable resilience in the face of his suffering? No, that's not as fun. Not a single one of those scenes is uploaded fully, and I have checked many times. (Some people have actually skipped those scenes to focus on Timebomb. I'm...)

I went online and looked up "why do people sexualize traumatized characters" because let's face it, it's real, it's interesting, and I cannot judge or else I am a hypocrite. Bucky Barnes, Loki, Ellie Williams, Dean Winchester, Vi herself, the list goes on much longer but I can't think of others off the top of my head. We connect with their suffering, and we are pulled by their experiences.

However, Jayce is such a complicated case because he is usually thought of as the greedy himbo that fumbled two baddies, or the confused bisexual, or the guy who lost it because of a situationship (much like Vi, who DID NOT lose it because of a failed romantic endeavor bfr). And then the plot goes and tells us, "Actually, yeah, his life outside of Viktor doesn't matter, he's not even supposed to be alive, because Viktor saved him. All of time is completely inextricable from Viktor." People hate meljay because she manipulated him and "trapped" him in a relationship or something, only to celebrate it when something suspiciously similar happens with the male romantic interest? I initially thought it was beautiful too, bc Soulmates, but man. Mage!Viktor really left the man he loved to rot in complete isolation, eating raw reptiles until throwing up, losing his mind. Say what you want about the allegory for Viktor's life, at least Viktor's isolation was metaphorical up until the Glorious Evolution.

Despite us being shown this, people make thirst edits of him in his black fit, and fighting with sexual tension with Viktor. I fear...that I am the only one who finds this tragic. The man forced to create a larger than life persona to sell his work and be seen as an attractive pawn of the system, has become the attractive pawn of the narrative. Viktor's narrative.

Perhaps Viktor was forgotten by the world. But Jayce's kind heart, and brave soul, were forgotten by us.

Just some thoughts to chew about my favorite character and my wish that more people focused on his arc with me

[im-tempted]

One of these days I'll actually sit down and write about my feelings on the intersection between how my trans and aroace identities are perceived from the outside

[cheshiresense]

In the Ichigo & Starrk time travel 'verse I'm just picturing Ichigo registering for the academy like "I'm Ichigo. From the rukongai. No last name" and then kaien popping up like "he's a Shiba!!!" And the people there looking at each other and whispering like "ohhhh he wants to be independent and not rely on his family name!! How sweet!!!" and then Ichigo just sighing. XD

LMAO with his luck, this is exactly what happened.

Meanwhile Starrk's over there in the corner filling out his application forms and thanking every god he wants to beat up I find it rly funny to imagine he has this passive-aggressive grudge against Mimihagi for a variety of reasons that he in no way, shape, or form resembles any of the five big clans. But it would also be really funny to me if people at the admin desk looked at him, and then looked twice, and then looked thrice, and then be like "You sure you're not a Kyouraku?", because let's face it, he really does look a bit like Shunsui. Like it's not immediately noticeable the way Ichigo is with the Shibas, but if Starrk and Shunsui showed up and claimed they were blood-related, probably no one would doubt it.

And at any other time, people might not think of the possibility, but there just so happens to be a Kyouraku relative - even if she's just a bastard - attending the Academy at the moment, and all the teachers and staff are always made aware of any clan children in their halls. The Kyouraku Family isn't one of the Big Five, they're a Lower Noble House and also not a Shinigami-oriented clan, more politicians and scholars and even artisans than soldiers, but they're old and prestigious and the highest-ranked out of all the Lower Noble Houses, so the Academy paid attention when one of them decided to become a Shinigami for the first time in centuries. She ends up being a disappointment with none of her cousin's talent or charisma or wit, and the Eighth Division captain hasn't pushed hard enough for them to really show her any favouritism, but they've still kept an eye on her to make sure the bullying doesn't get too bad and she doesn't fall too far behind, lest they bring her family's wrath down on them, because it doesn't seem like most of her clan cares about her but who even knows with nobles and the things that set off their sense of pride.

But that means Starrk's looks immediately ring a few bells when he shows up. Of course, he denies it; unlike Ichigo, he really doesn't have any relation to the Kyourakus, although even back in their own timeline, a few people had made that mistake when they didn't know he was a Hollow, had thought he was some Kyouraku relative Shunsui had dug up to help out, because not everyone who goes through the Academy becomes a Shinigami, sometimes they're clan members who go home afterwards to guard the family and continue their own training there, plus with Starrk's strength and skill set - 1) powerful, and 2) sharing quite a few similarities to Shunsui's so it's not even just their looks - it had actually been more far-fetched to a lot of people for him to have just been some random nobody than to be a member of this powerful clan.

But no, no blood relation, just a quirk of fate. Still, the Academy notes his name down and makes sure to keep more tabs on his progress than they would an average Rukongai student. And alright, the teachers can be overly biased or overly indifferent depending on the student but they're not actually stupid, and yeah, for a while, it's Shiba Ichigo who takes up all their attention because Ichigo blows all the other students out of the water and skyrockets straight up to a category of genius nobody's ever seen before, even more impressive than his lieutenant cousin and slated to graduate in a year. It helps (Ichigo: "No it fucking doesn't.") that Kaien is constantly buzzing around making sure Ichigo is treated like a prince befitting of a Great Noble House so no one dares make his life difficult. Well, Koyonagi would probably dare, but fortunately (Ichigo: "No it fucking isn't."), he likes Ichigo enough to not hamper him in any way, even if he does come up with all sorts of annoying tasks to heap on Ichigo "for extra credit" (Ichigo: "For his own entertainment.").

Starrk in the meantime is about as entertained by all this as a passively suicidal grieving widow war vet can get, and he makes no effort to hide it every time Ichigo comes to hide in his room and bitch to him about it, because really, it's partly the kid's own fault for not knowing subtlety even if it shoots him in the face. It's harmless enough anyway so long as Ichigo doesn't stand out more than he already has, so Starrk doesn't see a problem with kicking back and enjoying the show. Right up until the novelty of a prodigal Shiba starts wearing off on the Academy teachers because it's not like they've never seen geniuses before even if this one is a little more unique. So the turn their attentions elsewhere and suddenly realize that the guy who might be another bastard Kyouraku and spends more time asleep than awake have some really interesting grades when they look at them altogether at the end of term. Average in everything—so average it's suspicious, meaning Starrk either has the weirdest luck in the universe or he's literally calculating everything he's doing in class to make sure he always falls within a very specific range. Koyonagi had already noticed of course, and he's checked all the boxes that would jump Starrk up to sixth year starting next semester, but the other teachers catch on quickly enough too, and then they also start taking a fourth and fifth look at him.

Now it's Ichigo's turn to be Very Amused. Shouldn't have laughed at his suffering, huh? Karma's a real bitch.

Starrk is Not Amused, but also he can be just as stubborn as Ichigo, even if it's in the opposite direction. Ichigo very stubbornly isn't willing to be held back, he can do more as an official member of the Gotei, and slogging through six years at the Academy is just wasting time. If he has to graduate in the least amount of time possible and thereby be seen as a genius anyway, he might as well put himself out of his misery early and get that out of the way right off the bat. At least then, by the time he graduates, some of the shine will have hopefully worn off for the masses after they've gotten used to him.

Likewise, Starrk very stubbornly isn't willing to be anyone's show pony. Ichigo isn't either, but Ichigo's solution is to just ignore the fact that he sort of is, for the sake of exempting himself from fatal boredom. In contrast, Starrk 100% doesn't mind going to lectures when nobody can stop him from sleeping through them anyway, and he always turns in his homework on time and never fails his tests either so the teachers can't complain. The training sessions in the practical courses are more annoying but he doesn't usually have to do much there either, especially once he's jumped to the sixth-year courses where the teachers teach less and more often pair them up for spars or take them to fight very low-level Hollows they've captured instead. And since he's been noticed now, he doesn't care about maintaining average scores anymore because once you finish your spar or kill your assigned Hollow, you get to sit around and do nothing until everybody else is done, which suits Starrk just fine.

Koyonagi calls him to his office a couple more times, but as Starrk expects, the man grows increasingly bored with Starrk's lack of a reaction to anything he says. He even pokes at him from the "bastard Kyouraku abandoned in the Rukongai" angle, which almost makes Starrk laugh, because from a hierarchical standpoint, and to all these proudly intolerant Shinigami, even an unwanted bastard disowned from a noble clan would already be several steps up from what Starrk actually is.

There's no substance to this insult anyway, because Starrk really isn't a Kyouraku, and what does a Hollow care about noble blood or lack thereof? Koyonagi takes his shot in the dark and misses, and maybe he sees the amused pity that even Starrk can't quite hide this time, because the man's own eyes go flat with displeasure, for once probably aimed more at himself than Starrk because men like Koyonagi don't like making such crude mistakes. He dismisses Starrk and never calls him back again, although Starrk thinks that might have something to do with Ichigo, who hasn't been best pleased for a while now about Koyonagi harassing Starrk in a way that's completely different from his own harassment, and everyone knows - or will soon discover once again - that it's all fun and games until Ichigo puts his foot down. Either way, Koyonagi gives up trying to make Starrk prey, and Starrk chats his way past the Academy chefs one evening to make a spicy mentaiko udon just for Ichigo as thanks.

So in the end, they both think that's the end of that. Ichigo still has his fair share of secret admirers and envious onlookers and background sycophants looking for an easy ride into the Gotei, but his prickly disposition wards off most of them, and Starrk's flat, indifferent gaze from over Ichigo's shoulder - like he could bury you tomorrow and forget you ever existed the moment it's done - scares away the rest.

And Starrk is likewise acknowledged as another genius, but he's so unmotivated about doing anything with that genius that most of the other students don't really notice, and it's hard for even the teachers to make a big deal out of it. Eventually, they stop trying to galvanize him into displaying more of his abilities, if only to catch a squad's attention, and just let him do what he wants. Geniuses, what can you do? Each one is quirkier than the last.

So that's the end of that.

Except-

Quietly, in the background, possibly Koyonagi's roundabout way of revenge, possibly just the Shinigami's inexplicable attachment to all things bloodlines and pedigrees, the Academy comes to the enlightened conclusion that Starrk must be a Kyouraku. Maybe a branch member who doesn't want attention - seems very Starrk - or he really had been disowned, or there's some other circumstance they're not aware of, but nobility is full of drama so it could be anything. Whatever it is, they collectively agree that this assumption must be true, and over the course of the passing months, it becomes an acknowledged fact that nobody really talks about.

Starrk is lazy, but he's not unpleasant to be around. Who doesn't like an intelligent student? He's also polite, always patient when teachers flag him down for yet another chat despite refusing all opportunities to show off a little, and the Academy chefs adore him because that man can cook - his future wife will be very lucky - and he always has time to trade recipes with them. And on the occasions where some of the youngest students who'd shared classes with Starrk back in the first term approach him with questions on one subject or another, Starrk would frown and sigh a lot, but he would also sit down and answer them one by one, indulgent in a way people wouldn't expect just by looking at him.

If he really is a disowned bastard, well, privately they think that's the Kyourakus' loss, but it also means that it's probably a pretty sensitive topic to Starrk, as these things tend to be, so it's better not to throw it in his face. They're not Koyonagi after all.

(They don't understand for quite a while to come why Koyonagi always rolls his eyes and leaves the room whenever they talk about it amongst themselves.)

To be fair, they really can't be wholly blamed for coming to this conclusion despite all lack of solid evidence and testimony.

First of all, Starrk really does share a physical likeness with the Gotei 13's very well-known Eighth Division captain. Their builds are different - one broad, the other lean - but they're both tall with high cheekbones, and they share the same colouring, grey eyes and brown hair and light skin. In that, Fujiwara's the exact same way, and she is a Kyouraku branch member. It's just even more obvious with Starrk because he's male, plus a few of the Academy teachers have been around long enough to still remember Shunsui before he'd grown his hair out, and Starrk resembles that version even more.

Secondly, and this was less conspicuous, but the teachers had even dug out some of Kyouraku Shunsui's very old, very dusty papers from his Academy days for comparison.

In terms of personality, the two are almost complete opposites. One flamboyant, the other solemn. One outgoing, the other reserved. One a flirt who socializes enough for ten, the other would rather stay in bed and sleep the day away. It's just that Starrk is surprisingly good with people when he tries, and some can recall that even Kyouraku Shunsui had had his moments of quiet contemplation, which only puts more stock in the familial tie theory.

But it's in terms of mindset that really drives it home for them, because when it comes to the way they look at the world, they sync up to an almost frightening degree.

They unearth the captain's old papers from the library archives, and it's been years, centuries, but Shinigami don't tend to change much. If anything, Kyouraku Shunsui’s essays read more immaturely than Starrk’s, but the foundational reasoning from both men is solid.

They review them, and then they look at Starrk's again, and Starrk might leave questions blank on homework and tests but he's never skimped on answers when he does turn them in, and a lot of those questions are essay topics - similar enough even between Kyouraku Shunsui's generation and the current one to make a fair comparison - about hypothetical situations on the battlefield, in a fight, if you meet an ally, if you meet an enemy, if you have to choose who to save, if you have to choose who to let die—what would you do?

The respective responses are evidently written by two different people, well-debated and well-presented, but at the same time, even hundreds of years apart, their opinions and strategies and perspectives and choices on almost every single topic are near-interchangeable.

(They can't have known that Starrk had spent seven years at Shunsui's side, watching him lead, watching him fight, watching him wage a war and command his soldiers and protect his people to the best of his ability... and ultimately fail. They can't have known that he'd spent one final year leading the gutted remains of a Gotei in Shunsui's name to the best of his own ability... and also fail in all the ways that had mattered. They can't have known that even before those years, the two of them had met across a battlefield and crossed minds as much as blades, and even then, they hadn't felt like strangers to each other.)

[AUTHOR INTERRUPTS TO SAY I actually didn't want to mention Starrk's Zanpakutou like this because I have a whole thing planned out for it, as in I was insane enough one day and spent an entire afternoon creating a Bankai for him, but I also think some of you guys have probably guessed at least a bit of what his Zanpakutou looks like since I've dropped a few hints in previous snippets, so whatever, I'll just confirm its sealed form now. I guess this officially makes this snippet not part of the AU though cuz I originally had him not revealing his Zanpakutou until like a year after he graduates, post-time travel reveal. And going forward, he'd be meeting Shunsui differently here since originally their first meeting is at one of Asuka's tutoring sessions. But whatever, you can just go with whichever version you like best. Anyway, let's get on with my increasingly off-topic snippet lmao, sorry Anon.]

And last but most definitely not least, even disregarding everything else, Starrk's Zanpakutou alone is simply a Glaringly Obvious Sign From The Heavens. It's not that people from the same family always share similar Zanpakutou, but it's not exactly uncommon either—just look at the Shibas, they all have elemental Zanpakutou, and the newest one will probably go the same way; the Kuchikis have katanas with identical guards and always a white hilt or sheath; and not a single member of the Feng family that's passed through the Academy has ever left with anything but a wakizashi.

It's especially hard not to make certain connections that lead to the most obvious conclusion when everybody knows that Kyouraku Shunsui is the only Shinigami in living memory to wield a Zanpakutou that exists as two separate blades in its sealed form.

And now there is another.

The first time Starrk had finally removed his Zanpakutou - his entire Zanpakutou - from that wooden case he always carries around over one shoulder for a Zanjutsu assessment compulsory for graduation, the entire room had first gone dead silent, then burst into an uproar. Thankfully, it was a private assessment so there'd only been Starrk and several teachers inside.

They'd all thought they'd seen his Zanpakutou before - after all, he has to use a weapon in his Zanjutsu classes - but apparently, he'd always only taken one blade out for training.

A katana and a wakizashi, a daishou pair, each with a pale gold hilt, a darker gold sheath, and a blue-grey rectangular guard decorated by a sun design. Almost exactly like Kyouraku Shunsui's tachi and wakizashi, with their dark blue hilts and gold rectangular guards decorated by cherry blossom petals.

The meaning of it all could not possibly be clearer. At this point, if they're not family, they would have to be the kind of soulmates you would only find in one of those ridiculously sappy unrealistic romance novels.

(They can't have known that sometimes fate likes its jokes a little too much, and its favourites have always been the butt of them.)

Miracle of miracles, the pseudo-secret of Starrk's Zanpakutou doesn't leak right away. Starrk obviously doesn't want the attention for one reason or another, and the teachers have no real cause to spread it around so they don't. For one, they like him enough to cater to his very simple wishes, and for another, this man is clearly going to be a very powerful Shinigami one day, very likely to snag a captaincy sooner or later, and every noble clan is the same—if Starrk really is disowned, once the Kyouraku Family gets wind of what he can do, he won't be for much longer. And on top of all that, Starrk seems to be friends with the Shibas' most recent pride and joy; that's a connection that will get him far even without his own clan's backing. The Academy doesn't have much to do with the goings-on in the Gotei 13 or the government or the courts of aristocracy, but there's no need to make enemies when they don't have to.

Then comes the day Kyouraku Shunsui himself comes around for a visit.

This in itself is not new. The only career Shinigami from the Kyouraku Family isn't one to throw his weight around too much the way a lot of the other clans like to do for their kin, but he still checks up on his cousin two or three times a year, which in their opinion is already pretty admirable considering Fujiwara is not only from about as distant a branch as one can get, but also illegitimate, out of favour with her clan, and... well, painfully average in a way that means they all have to wrack their brains for compliments every time the captain shows up to ask about her.

Fortunately, for the first time since he'd taken up a position at the school, Koyonagi had done them all a favour and assigned her a tutor capable of working miracles, and so they can very happily and very honestly tell Kyouraku Shunsui all about the leaps in progress Fujiwara has made over the past several months.

The captain listens with a smile that's equal parts amicable and unfathomable, nodding in all the right places. He thanks them for their hard work even as he rakes a discerning eye over them that has them all sweating internally, but at least he also seems willing enough to not make things difficult for them now that Fujiwara is thriving under Shiba Ichigo's protection.

And that should've been it. That would've been it if Akabane Shiina, head of the Kidou department and arguably Starrk's favourite because he actually stays awake in her classes - he's certainly her favourite if the way she gushes about his gloriously tricky projects to a very resentful audience in the staffroom is anything to go by - suddenly bursts out just as the captain is making to leave:

"Are you not going to ask about your other relative?" She demands, her voice gone strident with righteous indignation. "Is it because he really was disowned and cast out into the Rukongai? But he is still better than Fujiwara!"

Shiina has no eyes for anyone without talent in Kidou. She doesn't have a problem with Fujiwara, and in fact, out of the four combat forms, Fujiwara is best at Kidou, although that might not last with the way she's catching up in all the other fields under Shiba Ichigo's tutelage, and Shiba Ichigo is notoriously slow at Kidou so he can't teach her anything in that area. But even on her own, Fujiwara's competency in Kidou is enough to meet all graduation requirements, and she'd even done fairly well in the fourth-year course Shiina had taught last year, certainly better than all her other subjects. However, she doesn't have the kind of flair for it that Shiina values.

Starrk does. And Shiina apparently does not appreciate her favourite pupil being dismissed out of hand just because he's considered one step lower on the social ladder than Fujiwara. Sure, Starrk is far more talented than Fujiwara; he's the last person anybody needs to worry about when it comes to graduating. But that's just all the more reason he deserves at least passing acknowledgement from a captain. And yet Kyouraku Shunsui can show concern for a neglected bastard but not a disowned bastard? Don't make her laugh.

Her temper has always been a straightforward creature, and so she ignores her colleagues' frantic squinting and meets Kyouraku Shunsui's gaze head-on when he pauses and then turns back, except he looks... entirely puzzled.

"Other relative?" The man echoes, looking genuinely baffled. "Did my clan send another child to the Academy? Maa, I wasn't informed. And Asuka-chan hasn't mentioned anything to me either."

A moment of silence follows. Shiina glares suspiciously at the pink-clad captain, who waits her out with the same unflappable calm Starrk pulls out whenever Shiina gets too excited about a Kidou seal and babbles for half an hour straight.

And she's supposed to believe these two have no relation to each other?

"He is not a child," She finally says. She doesn't know how old Starrk is, but it's very obvious he has at least several hundred years under his belt. He makes her feel young sometimes, and she's almost four hundred years old. "He came here from the Rukongai, with Shiba Ichigo."

She watches the way Kyouraku's eyes flicker as he takes in this information, but he doesn't emote anything except mild curiosity.

"Ah, I think I've heard a few things about Ichigo-kun's companion," Kyouraku muses. "Coyote Starrk, wasn't it? Also slated to graduate by the end of the year? But I'm afraid my clan definitely doesn't have a branch family by that name."

Well obviously, if he'd been disowned. He'd probably picked it for himself.

Kyouraku smiles a bit at whatever expression has crossed Shiina's face. It should be a scathing one. It feels scathing.

"But now I'm curious," Kyouraku continues, one hand reaching up to tilt his hat up. "For everybody-" His gaze sweeps the room, making everyone straighten in their seats. "-to think he's related to me of all people—we must be very obviously alike in some way."

Shiina scoffs, unimpressed. In some way? Try in every way.

But, at least he hasn't been ignoring Starrk on purpose. Mentally, Shiina grudgingly returns the 50 points she'd docked from him earlier.

She's about to interrogate him about what he's going to do about his curiosity - so help her, if he finds out Starrk really is family, then lets Starrk know that he knows now, and then rejects him for being disowned, captain or no, she's going to make him pay - when one of her colleagues, Koyonagi's gopher actually, because the man himself couldn't be bothered to show up, so as always, he'd sent his nominal vice-department head, interrupts.

"Are you certain you’ve never met?" The man blurts out like he can’t help himself. Especially now that Shiina’s fielded the hard part, and Kyouraku hasn’t taken offense. "Surely you've discussed his essays at least!"

Kyouraku arches an eyebrow. "I can't say I have. But what makes you say that?"

The Zanjutsu teacher flounders. The sixth-year Philosophy teacher is less unprepared and simply pulls out a folder, only about a third full, but they still have a little over a month to go. At least it lets the teachers spread them out a bit instead of having to read them all at once at the end. It was the original reason for the meeting today before Kyouraku had dropped by—going through some of these papers while their workload is still relatively light.

There is an essay question assigned to every student at the beginning of their final year at the Academy. Unlike all other assignments, this one must be completed in order to graduate whether or not your grades are up to par. Students have the whole year to finish it, but it can be handed in anytime.

It's long been said that the the essay question is something Yamamoto Genryuusai himself had come up with, originally posed to his two personal students hundreds of years ago, and unlike all other topics where the details would at least be switched up from year to year, this one has never changed since it had first been included in the curriculum.

To defend honour or to protect life—which should a Shinigami of the Gotei 13 choose to uphold? Why? Which would you choose? Why?

There is actually no correct answer. So long as the paper is written with some thought put in, it’s an automatic pass. But every year without fail, the lieutenant of the First will come by and cart the whole pile away. Nobody can say for sure what happens to them.

Nevertheless, most students choose honour for both parts of the question. Whether they believe it or not, they at least know the politically correct answer, the safe one. Some of the more outspoken students - usually Rukon stock - might choose honour for the first part but argue life for the second part.

Kyouraku Shunsui had been the only one in Academy history to have chosen life for both parts, and now, Coyote Starrk and Shiba Ichigo have joined him.

Shiina watches as Kyouraku wanders back over to peer down at the two essays the Philosophy teacher lays out on the table. She watches as the captain smiles, appreciative and a little amused, as he scans Shiba Ichigo's paper—a fierce discourse on the importance of friends and family, of prioritizing comrades even if it means breaking the law, of doing right by them even if it means discarding the honour of the Gotei or your own honour as a Shinigami because there's no honour in abandoning your loved ones.

And then she watches his gaze move to the other paper, and she watches as his smile fades and his expression goes still. His hand comes up again to tug down the brim of his hat but he never looks up from the essay—a succinct dissertation on doing everything possible to preserve the lives of those in your care, because the duty of a Shinigami to the Gotei 13 is first and foremost to protect the people who depend on them, to shield the world they all reside in, to stand between danger and the realms they have been charged with safeguarding.

—What does honour matter when you cannot protect what you have sworn to protect?

—When you make the choice to step on a battlefield, you are choosing to do all in your power to seize victory, because anything less is an insult to those who have placed their trust in you, a threat to those who rely on you, and a broken oath to those you gave your word to protect.

—When you make the choice to kill, because taking a life is in itself an evil act, you are choosing to carry the necessary sins that will be demanded of you in battle so that others will not have to.

—When you make the choice to protect, you are choosing to discard your honour, because honour will not protect your people. It will not protect the world. It will not protect anything save your own sense of righteousness, and what is that worth if all you care for is gone?

—To be a Shinigami means to shoulder the weight of countless souls. In essence, it is a promise to protect life to the very end, and if honour is the cost, then it is a small price to pay.

Shiina has read Starrk's paper several times already. She had even made her own copy.

She thinks he will make an exceptional Shinigami.

Nobody says a word even after enough time has passed for Kyouraku to have read the paper twice over. What little Shiina can still see of his shadowed face is utterly inscrutable.

When he finally stirs, straightening up to look around, there's something new in his eyes, some emotion Shiina can't place that remains even as he murmurs, "I don't suppose you know where-"

He stops when - as if on cue - a familiar reiatsu signature in the distance rounds the corner of the hallway leading to this room.

It isn't Starrk's reiatsu. He's hard to sense on a good day. But everyone has felt Shiba Ichigo's reiatsu at least once. Boy isn't subtle. He has the skill to hide most of it, but spikes of emotion or even just when he's distracted can bring it out sometimes, and his reiatsu - like that first shocking plunge into ice water that robs you of all breath right before any other sensation hits - isn't one people tend to forget.

And where Shiba Ichigo goes, more often than not, Starrk is there as well.

Shiina checks the time. Classes are out. It's Friday. Chances are good they're together.

Several feet beyond the door, the reiatsu signature comes to an abrupt halt. A few seconds pass, two muffled voices murmur something back and forth, and then footsteps resume, heavier this time, before three brisk knocks are heard.

The head of administration - the one with the highest rank in the room, bar the Shinigami captain - clears his throat, glances at her glower, glances at Kyouraku's perfectly genial expression, and then calls out like a coward, "Come in!"

The door swings open, Shiba Ichigo stalks in, and sure enough, Coyote Starrk shuffles in after him, hands in his pockets, and his bag and the wooden case containing his Zanpakutou slung over one shoulder. His face is so impassive it could've been carved out of marble.

Shiina docks 100 points from everyone in the room. Except Starrk of course.

But even she can't help staring at this meeting that somehow feels like it's been a long time coming.

Starrk's gaze rises. Kyouraku's gaze jumps straight past Ichigo. Their eyes meet, and for just a moment, all of time seems to shudder to a halt.

Silence stretches... and snaps.

"Hey, what's everyone staring at?" Ichigo cuts in irritably, waving the sheaf of papers he's holding in one hand. "We're supposed to hand in our waivers for the assessment on Monday, right? What's the hold up?"

He shoots a look to his left where Starrk and Kyouraku are still standing there staring at each other like the rest of the world has ceased to exist. He's already scowling, but he scowls even harder at the sight.

"Good afternoon, Kyouraku-taichou," He greets very pointedly.

Kyouraku blinks, and Starrk turns away, busying himself with digging out his own papers from his bag. The moment passes, and Kyouraku turns to Ichigo as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, "Ichigo-kun, what a coincidence. What are you here for?"

Ichigo's gaze bobs between Kyouraku and Starrk again before he shakes the papers in his hand once more. "Starrk-san and I have our second Hohou assessment on Monday. It's the one where they drop us off in an arena full of Hollows, and we have to get out using only Hohou. But we have to assure the school we won't blame them if we get killed, so-"

He brandishes the waivers again and finally looks back at the teachers in the room. "I actually don't know why we have to do this. I asked Matsumoto, and she said she doesn't have to fill out any of this stuff."

The admin head coughs delicately. "It's for clan members, Shiba-san."

Three things happen at once:

Shiba Ichigo, predictably at this point, snaps, "I'm not a clan member!"

Coyote Starrk stops halfway through pulling out his own waivers.

And Kyouraku Shunsui goes back to staring at Starrk, although Shiina thinks he doesn't quite know he's doing it so blatantly.

"Shiba-san, your cousin has already had your name changed to indicate official entry into the clan," The admin head says placatingly. "And he assured us that it was with your approval."

Ichigo glares, clearly all set to spend the next hour fighting this new information tooth and nail. "That doesn't mean-"

"Ichigo," Starrk finally speaks up, but he doesn't say more than that. It doesn't seem like he needs to though because Ichigo breaks off, still scowling, but he also glances back at Starrk, who only arches an eyebrow in return.

Ichigo grumbles something under his breath before slapping his papers down on the desk in front of the admin head. "Fine, whatever, I'll go beat him up later. Starrk-san?"

Starrk meanders over, his own waivers already tucked away again. There's a slight slouch to his frame, his gloved hands are back in his pockets, and he doesn't loom, even stopping a foot behind Ichigo, but when he turns his attention on the admin head, the man almost visibly squirms under that blue-grey gaze.

"I'm not from a clan," He says mildly.

As one, the entire room sans the students and the Shinigami captain turn to look at said captain. A moment later, even the students turn to follow their line of sight.

Kyouraku stares back. Or rather, he meets Starrk's gaze again, dark and intent, searching.

Ichigo snorts. The tension breaks.

"This again?" Ichigo glances at Starrk again. "I thought that rumour went away months ago."

"I thought so too," Starrk agrees in bland tones. He looks from one teacher to the next, and even Shiina ducks her head a little when his gaze sweeps over her.

Another beat of silence ensues before it's Starrk's turn to heave a sigh.

"I'm not from a clan," He repeats in that quietly implacable way of his, and even though there's nothing threatening about him, not in his voice, not on his face, not in his posture, not even in his reiatsu, something in their hindbrains stills like cornered prey anyway.

"I am not a branch member," Starrk continues without much inflection. "Or an illegitimate child, I have never been disowned, and whatever else your... very healthy imagination has come up with," For a split second, he looks almost amused. "I can assure you, I am not that either."

He stops. He needn't have gone on because Shiina definitely believes him this time, or at the very least, she believes he genuinely believes he isn't a Kyouraku.

Except then Starrk also turns to the side where Kyouraku is observing everything in silence. Grey meets grey once more.

"This Taichou-san," Starrk says, looking at the captain in question. His face is unreadable. "Is Kyouraku Shunsui of the Eighth Division, right? Then he should be able to confirm—I am not a part of his clan."

Another moment of silence passes. Shiina catches the way Ichigo's expression has gone grim, although for what reason, she doesn't know.

There's been something off about this whole situation from the start. Why those two couldn't have gone away and come back later is beyond her. They'd clearly sensed Kyouraku inside even before knocking.

"It's true, as far as I'm aware, we really aren't related," Kyouraku says after a few seconds of studying Starrk some more. His eyes don't move away even as he speaks, and his tone is... strangely gentle. "And this should be our first time meeting."

Starrk's gaze slides away at almost the exact same time Ichigo reaches out and snags the sleeve of Starrk's Shihakushou, tugging him forward and around, which just so happens to plant him between Starrk and Kyouraku.

"So is there anything else?" Ichigo says loudly. "Or can we go?"

There's a moment where most of the teachers seem to have forgotten why they're there in the first place. Shiina huffs and decisively takes over.

If she could have her way, she would've already ejected Kyouraku from the room. Maybe they really aren't blood-related - what are the odds though? - but she's pretty sure there's something going on between them anyway. Them and Ichigo.

Whatever, it's not her business. Since both parties have said so, everyone else will just have to accept it.

But now that they've reached this point...

"Come here, I need to tag your Zanpakutou," She says briskly, taking out a box as she beckons them over. "The second Hohou assessment bans the use of Zanpakutou. You'd be surprised how many Zanjutsu-focused students try to cheat anyway, so all Zanpakutou have these attached to them before the assessment begins."

She shows them the tags with seals inscribed across the surface. They're nothing fancy, akin to nametags, but they do their job.

"We don't like separating Zanpakutou from their wielders once students reach their fifth year," She explains. "And all Shinigami are encouraged to get used to carrying their Zanpakutou with them at all times anyway. This way, you'll be able to take them in with you, but we'll know if you unsheathe them."

She takes out three tags and flares her reiatsu, watching half the seals light up before holding them out. "There. Loop the string around the sheath before tying it over the hilt, and then I'll finish locking them. They won't affect your Zanpakutou in any way, and you can still unsheathe your swords anytime. Try not to do that until after the assessment though. There's not much time on Monday to redo the tags, and you'll get marks docked off if you use them during the test."

Ichigo nods and grabs a tag first, head dipping as he reaches for the katana at his waist. Then he jerks back up again, wide-eyed, but Shiina isn't paying any attention to him anymore as she looks up at Starrk.

Starrk blinks at her once, slowly. His expression doesn't shift from its indifferent lines, but after a few seconds, something about his eyes thaws, the corners crinkling briefly with the faintest of mirth.

"You're a bit... petty, Sensei-san," He murmurs in a voice pitched so low only she and Ichigo can hear.

Shiina shrugs unrepentantly. She still can't be 100% sure Starrk isn't a Kyouraku no matter what the man himself believes, but she is sure that either way, it's the Kyouraku Family's loss.

If Starrk isn't a Kyouraku, then it doesn't matter, although knowing nobles, they'll probably be at least a little disgruntled that their unique dual-wielding Shinigami is unique no longer, and it's even someone from Rukongai who's manifested a daishou pair.

And if he is a Kyouraku, an ugly secret the clan had erased so thoroughly that even the only remaining heir of the main branch wasn't told, then Shiina wants them to know, wants to rub it in their faces, wants to shout, Look what you missed out on! Look what you lost! He's no less special than the only Shinigami you've produced!

So sue her. Maybe she's been a little bitter about Starrk receiving no offers from the Gotei divisions beyond the generic ones most students get because there are always unseated cannon fodder positions needing to be filled. Technically, it's Starrk's own fault for utterly failing to stand out in any way, but Shiina doesn't mind blaming everyone else for being blind.

She doesn't know what all Starrk can do, but she is absolutely certain he is far, far more powerful than he's let on. His Kidou work alone is magnificent, and someone like that can't possibly remain in obscurity. Anyone who looks down on him for his circumstance of birth or lack of background will regret it. This is just the first step.

Starrk huffs out an exasperated breath but doesn't refuse her little scheme because obviously she's his favourite teacher. He takes the tags, and then reaches up to twist off the cap of the wooden case.

One could hear a pin drop in the subsequent silence as Starrk retrieves his katana and wakizashi in one fluid motion and lays them out on the desk in front of him. The nearby lamp light catches on the katana's hilt for a moment, making it shine, like sun on sand. With deft steady hands, he attaches a tag to each blade, calm even with a sea of eyes on him.

Shiina slants a look to the side through her eyelashes and suppresses a very satisfied smile.

Kyouraku Shunsui looks like he's been hit over the head with a hammer. She's willing to bet it's a rare look on him, even for someone with a reputation for making a bit of a fool of himself in public whenever he drinks.

He looks stunned now, stunned and... and something else, the same something he'd shown after reading Starrk's paper, except in his distraction, it's far more noticeable now, even if just for a few seconds.

Wonder, Shiina thinks, and doesn't know what to think of it.

"Sensei-san?" Starrk prompts, tilting his blades towards her.

Shiina gives herself a mental shake before finishing up with the tags, Starrk's first, then Ichigo's.

"That's done then, you can go," Shiina tells them. "Have a good weekend. Don't be late on Monday."

Ichigo breathes a sigh of relief, looking reenergized, while Starrk nods at her, nods at the other teachers, and even inclines his head in Kyouraku's direction, before they both turn to go.

"I should get going too then," Kyouraku says, smiling once more and as affably composed again as ever. "Wouldn't want to overstay my welcome."

Shiina stoops down to put the box of tags away just so nobody will see her roll her eyes. By the time she sits up again, her colleagues have seen the captain off, and she silently wishes Starrk good luck with that one. Still, she doesn't regret waving his Zanpakutou in the man's face. She does dock off another 20 points though because she's decided she doesn't much like Kyouraku, especially when he's in Starrk's vicinity.

"Hey!" The Philosophy teacher suddenly calls out, flipping through the papers on the desk. "Where did Coyote-san's essay go?"

Everyone spends a minute looking for it. Shiba Ichigo's is still on the table.

Shiina glances at the door and lets her lip curl. Minus 100 points. She's never met anyone who's hit the negative hundreds so quickly in her life.

The others realize it too soon enough, and the admin head eventually sighs. "It's fine, we have a few copies anyway, and it's not the first time we've lost an essay."

"So... he's not a Kyouraku then?" Someone else pipes up.

An uncertain hush falls over the room. No one is convinced, Shiina included.

"Just..." The admin head waves a weary hand. "Treat him as we always have. It doesn't hurt to be cordial to a future captain, noble or otherwise."

Everybody agrees, and that's that.

-0-

Ichigo has never felt so awkward in his life. He finally understands what being a light bulb means, and these two aren't even dating anymore. Yet. Again. Whatever.

Still, he obstinately makes sure he walks between them. It's not much, but it's probably better than inflicting all of... Kyouraku on Starrk right away. The past twenty minutes had been awful enough. Not many had noticed, or if they had, they probably hadn't been able to pinpoint exactly what was wrong, but Ichigo knows Starrk.

Knows him well enough to tell that the man isn't in any way as put-together as he seems on the surface. Knows too that he's probably thinking about crawling into bed or walking into a lake or disappearing into the sands of Hueco Mundo and just never coming out again.

Ichigo doesn't know how to fix it though, doesn't know if this can even be fixed. The last year in their own timeline had answered him with a resounding no. So all he can do for now is stay close and make sure Starrk is never alone in these moments.

No one is talking. Ichigo wouldn’t usually mind, but the silence this time is tense. It’s also rare to have Kyouraku around and not have any conversation going. The man isn’t actually that chatty most of the time, even if he is a people person, but for there to be something interesting in his immediate vicinity - and Kyouraku is interested in Starrk, even Ichigo can tell that much - and yet choose to remain silent? Ichigo doesn’t like it.

They get all the way to the entrance of the staff building before Ichigo cracks.

“So what were you here for today, Taichou?” Ichigo asks. “Uh, if you can say, I guess.”

Shunsui glances over at him, glances past him, then back. “Maa, it wasn’t anything special. I was just asking about Asuka-chan's progress. You’ve done a good job with her.”

Ichigo flushes a little. “I didn’t do much. She just needed some confidence.”

Kyouraku hums, amused but warm somehow. He's always been good at that. “We’ll agree to disagree then. I’m grateful either way.”

Ugh, this was not what Ichigo had wanted. But he ends up nodding stiffly, and thankfully, Kyouraku gets the hint and drops the subject with a chuckle.

But that also means he has time to glance at Starrk again, like he's checking for a reaction. Unfortunately for him, Starrk is currently impersonating a statue, and he hasn't looked at Kyouraku once since they'd left the meeting room.

It's only when they step outside that Starrk finally stirs. He turns to face them, eyes on Ichigo, features carved from stone. "I turn off here."

Ichigo blinks. Oh, right, but- "You're already going back to the dorms? Fujiwara and Matsumoto want to go out for dinner."

Starrk nods. "I know, you mentioned it yesterday. I won't go. Give me your bag, I'll take it back for you."

Reflexively, Ichigo hands him his bag, but he also tacks on, "You can come too, they're definitely expecting you to."

Starrk shakes his head. "I'm tired, I'll probably just turn in early."

Ichigo opens his mouth to argue, but... to be honest, in Starrk's place, he probably wouldn't want to be inflicted with Matsumoto's energy either. Fujiwara's taking after her a little too much for comfort these days, and Gin is probably going to be there too, and nobody wants to put up with Gin when they're already feeling bad. Of course, Gin always looks sour-faced around Starrk instead of the other way around. Ichigo is pretty sure it's because Starrk has a way about him that makes the suspicious brat feel like the man's constantly catching him red-handed or something every time Starrk so much as looks at him, which is hilarious, but it also means Gin tends to either avoid Starrk whenever possible or needle him when it isn't. Starrk doesn't usually care, but it isn't exactly what anyone would call a good time.

"Okay," Ichigo says instead. "Just make sure you eat something first."

"Mm," Starrk says, very obviously not agreeing to anything. God, Ichigo is surrounded by people who are going to worry him into an early grave. On the other hand, can it be called an early grave when he probably should've died something like ten years ago?

...Wow, that's depressing. Best not to think about it too hard.

"Go have fun," Starrk says before Ichigo can press on the point about food. Sometimes, it's like Starrk forgets he's not just a Hollow anymore. Ichigo had heard that Starrk had transcended hunger even as an Adjuchas because his reiatsu had done the "eating" for him—and then some. And even after reaching the peak of a Hollow's evolution, he's still never needed as much of any kind of food as regular Shinigami, but that doesn't mean it's healthy either for him to eat nothing.

"Don't stay out too late, don't drink too much," Starrk continues, and Ichigo is distracted enough by this to drop the previous subject.

He rolls his eyes. "Okay, Dad. You know it's a Friday, right?"

Also he's not a teenager anymore, he doesn't say, because he's still mindful of Kyouraku's presence behind him.

(His human body had died as a teenager though, at the ripe old age of seventeen. Some days, it feels like he's still aging at the pace of a human, all grown up and as jaded as an adult can get. Other days, when Kaien acts like an annoying big brother around him, or when Starrk fusses over him in that weary, gentle way of his, Ichigo feels exactly like the kid he would be if he'd been born in Soul Society.

He's still not sure how to feel about that. It's weird, always, but... not always bad.)

Starrk raises his eyebrows. "Matsumoto has a makeup test at noon tomorrow. Ichimaru has an early shift in the morning. Fujiwara has an appointment with her advisor at nine, and you-" A wisp of amusement actually makes it all the way onto his face for a moment. "-have remedial Kidou lessons with Koyonagi at ten."

Ichigo immediately scowls. "It's not remedial lessons! That bastard just doesn't know how to butt out of my business!"

Starrk hums noncommittally, but Ichigo's on to him. That's his I'm laughing at you on the inside because I'm secretly an asshole hum.

"How do you even know all these things?" Ichigo grumbles, because honestly, even when Starrk comes to hang out with them, he spends at least two-thirds of the time napping instead of paying attention to anything going on around him. Ichigo hadn't known they'd all be so busy tomorrow.

Starrk just gives him a blank look like he doesn't understand the question. Ichigo rolls his eyes again and gives up.

"It's not like I was planning on staying out that late anyway," He huffs. "We'll be fine for tomorrow."

Starrk nods and says nothing else. Ichigo doesn't have the words to describe how much he likes that about the guy. Unlike Kaien, Starrk says his piece when he feels strong enough about something to actually make his opinion known, but the rest is up to the other party to decide for themselves, for better or for worse. Unless of course you're bleeding a river with your insides hanging outside and trying to insist you can totally still fight.

Healers. They're somehow all carved from the same terrifying, unbending mold. The day Starrk meets Unohana, the Gotei 13 may never know peace again.

Starrk slings Ichigo's bag over his shoulder as well, and then his gaze finally skates past Ichigo to the man waiting patiently on the side while listening with shameless interest.

"Kyouraku-taichou, I'll be taking my leave," Starrk says, polite and formal as he bows his head, as an Academy student should before a captain, and it's- it's wrong, it's all wrong.

Ichigo doesn't really count the first time he'd met Starrk as their first meeting, which means that for as long as he's known this man, it has always been as a package deal with Kyouraku, right up until that final year. To this day, he has no idea how those two had happened, but it's not like 80% of the people he'd known and befriended hadn't been his enemies once upon a time too, so he has no room to judge.

The point is though, from Ichigo's perspective, Starrk had always followed faithfully in Kyouraku's wake, in his shadow, at his shoulder, hunched over the same desk and working long into the night or decimating a battlefield on Kyouraku's command, with eyes for no one else, even when - in the early days - enemy Quincy had mocked him as the Captain-Commander's tamed mutt, and their own allies had disdained him for being Ukitake's substitute. But likewise, while Kyouraku had forged ahead to pave a bloody road through the enemy ranks because there was no one else to do it for them anymore so he'd had to do it for everyone else, it was always Starrk he'd looked back at, always certain that he would only ever have to reach out and there Starrk would be, and no matter what anyone had said about lingering loyalty to Aizen or potential spy for the Quincy or even a Captain-Commander with such an unsightly weakness, Starrk had been the only thing Kyouraku had refused to hear a single dissenting word about.

They'd orbited each other and stood as a unit at the helm of the Gotei 13, and to see them like this now - separated by death and time and memory - even Ichigo aches at the sight. There's barely five feet between them but it might as well be a canyon.

Maybe Kyouraku can sense something of it too, because he tilts his hat down until it casts a shadow over his eyes, like he can't bear to look, but at the same time, his gaze remains glued to Starrk like he can't bear to look away either.

"Aa, I'm glad to have met Ichigo-kun's most mysterious friend at last," Kyouraku says, voice as laidback as ever, eyes anything but. "You've never come along with the others when Ichigo-kun is training Asuka-chan in my backyard."

It isn't quite a question, but Starrk blinks slowly and replies, "That's usually late afternoon. I prefer taking a nap."

Kyouraku smiles a little, and the curve of it is almost sly. "My division grows the most beautiful cherry blossom trees in all of the Seireitei, and they're just starting to bloom. It's a good place for a nap while you wait for your friends to finish up."

Starrk's brow furrows faintly. "...It would be disrespectful to intrude. I'm just a student."

Kyouraku waves a dismissive hand. "And I'm the captain. I can do what I want. And letting someone sleep under a tree is hardly an earth-shattering allowance."

Starrk blinks again before giving the impression of a shrug without actually moving his shoulders. "Thank you for the offer. I'll keep it in mind."

Even Ichigo has to hide a wince at the flat tone. But Kyouraku only smiles some more. "Good. You can come by anytime."

Starrk nods, a graceful dip of his head that lets his gaze fall away as he directs his next words at Ichigo, "I'll see you when you get back then." Then once more at Kyouraku, "Have a good evening, Kyouraku-taichou."

And then he's gone without so much as a blur left behind. Ichigo doesn't understand why they don't just give Starrk an automatic pass for Hohou when the guy uses Shunpou like he's teleporting, and then he remembers that most likely no one else has actually seen him use it yet with this kind of proficiency.

He turns back to Kyouraku, then falters. The man is staring after Starrk, smile nowhere to be found, which Ichigo had expected, but there's also an unsettling air of loss about him, heavy as a funeral shroud. And then, in the next second, Ichigo suddenly finds himself on the receiving end of a dark, ruthless, calculating gaze that Ichigo's only ever seen on the future Kyouraku, on the Captain-Commander at his best, at his worst, his blades stained with lifeblood, his shadows come alive with abyssal hunger.

All the hairs on the back of Ichigo's neck stand up, and a chill runs down his spine. He will honestly never understand how Starrk could look at this particular monster time and time again and never even seem to notice the threat, had always walked in Kyouraku's shadows like they were an embrace and not a bottomless void of remorseless avarice. But Ichigo's also faced down plenty of things just as scary as Kyouraku Shunsui, so he only needs a moment to re-center himself and beat back the instinctive lurch of alarm in his gut.

It's easy to forget, most of the time, just what this man is capable of.

They end up staring at each other in silence, and for a moment, it almost seems like Kyouraku might finally push for some answers. Ichigo knows he hasn't been the most subtle, and there are a handful of people out there nowadays who have their suspicions about him, but so far, none of them have approached him about it.

Kyouraku looks like he's about to. For a split second, he looks like he dearly wants an explanation, and he won't much care either what he might have to do to get it.

Figures, a part of Ichigo thinks wryly even as the rest of him goes tense with a guarded sort of apprehension. It would be Starrk-san who brings this out in him.

But between one breath and the next, Kyouraku blinks, blinks again, and the strained tension pops like a balloon as the monster disappears back into the shadows, and Kyouraku is casually adjusting his hat like the whole stare-down hadn't happened at all.

Ichigo feels his eye twitch.

"Well then, I should be heading off too," Kyouraku declares, and his gaze is feather-light when he glances at Ichigo once more. "I suppose I'll see you at Asuka-chan's next tutoring session. Perhaps I might see some of your friends too, hm? The more the merrier of course, so don't worry about any noise complaints. It's good to be livelier when you're young."

"Uh-huh," Ichigo says very dryly. Internally, he sighs and makes a mental note to do his best to convince Starrk to come with him next time.

Of course, he'll be first in line to beat Kyouraku up if this all turns into (more) heartbreak and (more) tragedy, but...

He's not actually so oblivious that he doesn't know Starrk might still only see a cliff's edge that he'll be more than happy to take a swan dive off of at the end of all this. He talks a good game, and after a year of practice, he's gotten a lot better at hiding his grief. At the very least, ever since they'd come back in time, Ichigo hasn't been able to pick up much more than a haze of melancholy from Starrk that comes and goes at irregular intervals.

He doesn't know how to fix it, doesn't know if it can even be fixed. But he does know that if anyone can pull Starrk back from that cliff, it's this man in front of him.

And Ichigo's lost enough people. He doesn't want to lose Starrk too.

So he'll keep an eye on this relationship, make sure Kyouraku doesn't overstep, and make sure Starrk isn't letting Kyouraku overstep, but otherwise, he doesn't think it's a bad idea to help it along a little.

He fervently hopes he's making the right choice.

Kyouraku takes off with a last friendly nod, and Ichigo also hurries away to meet up with Fujiwara and Matsumoto.

For now, everything will keep another day.

[thelaurenshippen]

cw: harry potter, jk rowling, transphobia

I occasionally see posts/get messages about the various harry potter references in the bright sessions, etc. and I've gotten a bunch of new followers recently so just so any new/younger listeners of my shows know:

jk rowling is a terrible transphobe whom I hold zero respect for and I haven't given a dime of my money to her since she revealed who she truly is. I want the whole bright universe to be a safe space for trans people (including the trans folks in our cast and crew!) and if I could go back and remove those references, I would. but I can't! harry potter was an extremely significant part of my life until...well, until it became very clear who she really was. it makes me so sad to think that folks might be finding TBS now and get thrown out of the story by these references, but just know that the people who made the show do not stand by jk, and that in many ways, the show is a product of its time.

[sanasanakun]

Jimithon Mouthwashing is such a good representation of untreated, enabled NPD like it makes me want to squeeze the life out of him. I'm endlessly fascinated when watching him interact with his crew, surroundings, and himself because he's so fucking lost in his own sauce. It's insane. If I'm being real, it makes him my favorite character in the game.

It's a little scary to say, but watching Jimmy is like seeing a mirrored version of myself two years ago before I truly committed to treatment for my NPD. He's like a shadow. The opening line "I hope this hurts," which I believe comes from Jimmy right before the crash, is such a poignant statement. It's a simple line, but I can tell you from experience that the desire to hurt others when in a narcissistic rage is overwhelming. It's such a good line to sum up Jimmy's character in that moment. Luckily, in the real world, I had my friends and family there to catch me when I hit my lowest, even though I'd hurt them so many times. Jimmy probably could've used friends to force him into therapy (cough cough Curly cough cough)

[johnslittlespoon]

ch1 of the leaving!bikeriders au done. fuck

[soupbtch]

ummm. my fic is done.

[necrotic-nephilim]

Any ships you don’t like in the batfam fandom that is popular?

OOOH this is such a fun question because I have quite a few

StephCass - i'll be honest this is one of those ships where the fandom ruined it for me. because 2000s StephCass is an elite dynamic, they care for each other so deeply. but the fandom has been intent on defanging and purifying this ship. i don't know *why* but StephCass seems most popular with the anti-Batcest crowd who get very mad if you compare it to ships they deem Batcest. i have an entire meta commentary on this in my drafts I'll likely never post discussing why the only reason StephCass gets the pass for not being Batcest ties directly into misogyny (because the women of the Batfam need to exist as love interests first, not family members so Steph was never going to truly get to exist as a "full" Batfam member so long as she could remain a viable love interest for Tim, and the same can apply to Babs, Helena, and even Cass in some cases) and that just sours me to it. like if i want yuri in Batfam i think there are far more interesting/fucked up ships for Steph like Babs/Steph or Helena/Steph. and when it comes to what i'd actually like to see in canon, i don't want to see Steph relegated to love interest of a Batfamily member, even if it's queer. let her date and exist outside of Gotham the way every other Batfam member gets to, DC *please*.

Bruce/Selina - i can't fully articulate why this ship isn't my thing, it just isn't. i think i just can't conceivably agree with Selina letting go of so many of her fundamental morals and beliefs for the sake of a man, even one she loves such as Bruce. ironically, i think that's one of the few things Gotham War got right about these two. the only canon love interest i like for Bruce is Zatanna and i mourn we'll never get much of that.

JayRoy - i will admit when i was newer to DC the first comics i picked up for Jason were all New-52 and i shipped this. but now that i'm a pre-Flashpoint truther and i've actually read well-written Roy Harper comics, i only see the flaws in this ship. ngl if ppl were actually fun and interesting with it, playing with the idea of Roy knowing Jason as Robin and still seeing him as just Dick's little brother who's gone a little mental, it *could* be fun. but this Red Hood & the Outlaws (2011) and Red Hood/Arsenal (2015) dynamic *butchers* the fuck out of Roy and strips him of everything interesting. and even as a Batfamily stan, my number one pet peeve is when other DC characters get *butchered* in a Batfamily character's book just for the sake of propping up the Bat as some kind of savior. free Roy Harper from this mans.

Bruce/Oliver - we could be here all day if i listed all the Bruce ships i don't like, but i figure this one has to be included. because oh my god either the people shipping this *really* don't understand Oliver Queen or they just hate his ass because why would you subject Oliver to this man. he can't *stand* Bruce. i really hate the popular BruOliie shipping dynamic of like "oh they were boarding school besties" because if you want that, you *should* like Bruce/Zatanna, not these two. Oliver just always gets butchered in these fics and i won't stand for it.

Tim/Bernard - the ESSAYS i could write on this ship and why i dislike it. the fucking *fear* DC (and most popular media tbh) has with depicting queer relationships as anything other than totally perfect and cute for fear of accusations of homophobia has stripped this ship of *any* real grit. Bernard is a non-character in Tim Drake: Robin, he exists to cheer Tim on and prop him up and just be The Boyfriend. we occasionally get glimpses of an interesting character with really interesting trauma and nothing is *done* with it bc at the end of the day, Tim and Bernard must be perfect and cute. what's fun about Tim is he is the *worst* boyfriend alive. that boy is *ass* at dating. all of his relationships are rich with conflict and yet the moment he dates a guy suddenly all of his flaws vanish? i hate it. i mourn what this could've been if we kept messy Tim Drake and had a Bernard who was actually informed by his trauma. DC please let gays be messy again. also of all of Tim's 90s/00s friends to bring back as a love interest, Bernard Dowd was just a *bizarre* fucking choice. Sebastian Ives was *right* there come on now.

Any Crossover Ship - look if crossovers are your cup of tea i'm happy for you but oh my god if i have to see that little green ghost boy or that ladybug girl in the Batfam one more time i think i may explode. i have a lot of thoughts on *why* i think specifically Danny Phantom and Miraculous Ladybug get crossed over as often as they do with the Batfam, but i don't think anyone wants to year that. my only exception to this is Jason/Bucky Barnes, but it *has* to be comics!Bucky. like. Judd Winick's Jason and Ed Brubaker's Bucky would hatefuck and that i wish to see it. any other crossover ship (especially the Peter Parker ones that seem to be rising in popularity) just do *not* do it for me.

honestly besides that i don't think i dislike many ships. (aside from being super opinionated on Bruce ships, but that's mostly bc ppl will use him to butcher the character they ship him with) there are some ships i'm neutral to because i simply do not know enough to have an opinion (like Dick/Wally). i guess the only Batcest ship i'm not particular to is Bruce/Damian, but I wouldn't say that one is popular nor would i say i dislike it, just that it's not my cup of tea. most Batcest ships click for me in one way or another because i like their Weird dnyamics. i guess i could also say i dislike most ships that have come out of Young Justice (tv) because. oh my *god* why were those group of characters put together on a team. it's baffling. but even then it's not disliking those ships, it's moreso disliking that show's depiction of those characters so. everything is really dependant on the canon context for me!

[the-priestess-of-dawn]

Been thinking about a postgame scenario that goes in a direction I don't think canon would ever take in a million years, but like... I think it could be really compelling...

And that's the idea of Chrom becoming Plegia's king after Grima's defeat. And specifically giving up his claim to Ylisse's throne to do it (leaving it to Lucina when she's old enough).

Because here's the thing... The game ends with Grima's defeat/Robin's return in the sacrifice ending. It doesn't address what happens to Plegia at all, and while I personally maintain that Aversa is the most qualified candidate to rule, her canon ending provides that she goes back to the village she was born in. So, fine. Let's give her that.

But SOMEONE has to do SOMETHING because realistically, Plegia is in dire straits. Validar, the king and the leader of the Grimleal, is dead. He gave, like, ALL of Plegia's resources to the Ylissean League (well, okay, we don't know how much, if any, he left in reserve, but... He really needed Walhart gone and it's not like he had any reason to think that anyone would need resources once Grima was running around, so... chances are good there's little to nothing left in the wake of the averted apocalypse). And the population has been utterly devastated, because not only did people (exactly how many is unclear, but presumably it took more than just a couple) have to sacrifice themselves to renew the fell dragon's power, but Grima was also spawning Grimleal onto their back at the final battle. Their losses are so immense...

So first of all, Chrom is definitely responsible for taking all their resources and setting half of them on fire (Now to be fair, Flavia and Basilio are also responsible, but... Idk, I kinda feel like they'd bicker with each other over who has to do the crappy parts of the job and then agree that they should just ask Chrom if he can do it. Like "Haha, if you didn't want to deal with thieves ambushing the Longfort to steal construction supplies, you shouldn't have gone and beaten me at the last tournament!" "Oh, shut up. Let's see if Chrom can send his thief friend over to talk these guys down. Or kill them, whichever." I mean, Chrom is always going to be their guy who knows a guy.) There's just no way Chrom would abandon the surviving Plegians who need help anyway, but especially not when he knows the war with Valm would've ended before it could begin without them.

Of course, there's the historical hostility between Ylisse and Plegia to consider, but... If anyone's protesting, it's probably the Ylisseans. Because the survivng Plegians, uh... probably were never Grima's most devoted followers in the first place (if you really wanted to give Grima your life, you'd rush to the front of the line at the Dragon's Table, right?) and even if they used to consider themselves true Grimleal, the religion's leadership is destroyed, and—for the purpose of this scenario, I'm considering it post-sacrifice ending—the fell dragon is gone and not coming back. These people narrowly avoided becoming Grima's breakfast or Grima's meat shields. They all almost certainly know someone who wasn't as lucky. And the one who saved them... Well, it was Chrom, wasn't it? Because he believed in humanity enough to challenge the concept of fate, a fate that the people of Plegia were surely taught was inescapable. Despite their history with Ylisse, it's hardly unreasonable for them to see Chrom as a savior to them specifically. The second coming of the Hero-King who ought for the lives of all humans, really.

And yeah, I'm going here... Chrom is Marth's descendant. Marth was Altean. Former Altea is is modern Plegia, so technically, the people can argue that he's actually theirs.

Doesn't it sort of make sense, even? Plegia is ruined, the god to whom the theocracy was devoted killed. "What we need is to restore the glory of ancient Altea!" And who better to help them than Chrom, Marth's successor in blood and in spirit?

But Chrom would frown and say no. Of course he's going to help them restore their country to prosperity—or at least to independent, peaceful functioning. But king? Sheesh, that's going too far. Come on guys, you don't really want that. Besides, he's already ruling Ylisse...

Except, he's not ruling it as Exalt. At least, not at first he's not. He forswore the title when he started his rule and in canon he is only official welcomed as Exalt after Grima's defeat. But what if he just... continued to not accept it. It's not like he ever wanted to be Exalt. He only has the right to rule because Emmeryn died—because he failed to protect her. It has nothing to do with any of his successes.

But if the Plegians made him their king, then it would be because of his own accomplishments.

And in a way I also can't help but find it heartwarming, because it was the Plegian people who got him to truly understand Emmeryn's ideals. He wanted peace, he wanted to follow her path, but it wasn't until the Plegians took her sacrifice for the peace offer it was and refused to continue fighting Ylisse that Chrom was finally able to comprehend what it meant that Emmeryn believed that all people wanted the same thing, that peace is something for everyone and not just purehearted saints like her who would never hurt a fly. So wouldn't it be sweet to expand on that existing connection? For the people who once bore a grudge against him and his nation to say, actually, our home is your home and you belong with us... For Chrom to reach back and decide that these are his people and that he will protect them...

Especially because that's what he's always done for Robin. Your father doesn't get to determine your path for you, your past doesn't dictate your future, you always have a place beside me because we are two halves of a greater whole. This AU is definitely a chrobin AU, because when Robin gets back I want them to rule at his side (after all, I do have feelings about Grima's loyalty to a people who have been praying to them to end their suffering for a thousand years).

Now, I do think that Chrom would never leave Ylisse while little Lucina was still growing up, but... Honestly it would probably take quite some time to establish a castle for Plegia's new ruler anyway (especially if they go super hard on the Altean revival theme and want it to be IN former Altean territory, which has become the "border wastes" and undoubtedly needs some help... But EVERYWHERE in Plegia needs help, so what better time to give the land some attention?) So when Lucina is an adult she can take over as Ylisse's true Exalt, and Chrom can focus his efforts on the other side of the border. I think he'd still be awkward about the whole thing, approaching it like "Well, I guess I'm here if you all still want me..." but Robin's there to give him confidence and the people there are SO excited for their hero to come and live with them and together they all usher in a new era of peace and prosperity as Ylisse and Plegia themselves become like two halves of a greater whole.

[delta-piscium]

part 2 | this is part two to this from Steve's perspective leading up to and including part one | cw unresolved angst [unfinished/for now not being worked on]

31 days until moving day.

Steve burst through the door to Family Video, swinging it open with way too much force. 

Robin jumps and opens her mouth, probably to tell him off for scaring her but he speaks before she gets the chance. 

“Eddie asked me to move to Chicago with him,” he blurts out, “Robin, he asked me to go with him.” 

Her eyes widen, “what did you say?” 

“That I’d go, of course,” he huffs. Like it’s even a question? like not going was ever an option?

Robin jumps over the counter squealing and hugs him so tight breathing becomes a little bit hard. 

“I’m moving away with Eddie,” he whispers into her hair, awed as he hugs her back. She somehow squeezes him even tighter and they stay like that for a minute until they have to actually do their jobs. 

An hour passes and Robin keeps shooting him contemplative looks.

“What?” He finally snaps after getting tired of waiting for her to say what she wants to say herself. 

She jumps again like she didn’t realize how obvious she was being, which honestly, she probably didn’t.

“Nothing, nothing.” 

“Robin,” he whines.

“Okay, just,” she scrunches her face up a bit and Steve knows that face, she’s trying to figure out how to say something to him she thinks he’ll react badly to. 

He narrows his eyes at her, bracing himself, “yes?” 

“I think you and Eddie are great together, and like I love you both and I am excited for you guys. You know that right?”

Steve nods, doesn’t say anything though, wants her to get to the point.

“I’m just also, maybe, a little bit worried.”

Steve’s eyebrows draw together, “what do you mean?” 

Robin is looking around nervously. Something heavy starts to form in Steve’s stomach. 

“You haven’t been together for very long and this is a big step. I just don’t wanna see either of you get hurt you know? I guess I’m just wondering if you’ve talked it all through? Because both of you have a tendency to jump into things without thought.”

They haven’t talked it through, not really. Eddie asked Steve to move, he said yes and that was pretty much it. It didn’t feel like they needed to talk it through though? Did they? Usually, they just dealt with things as they became relevant, that had worked for them so far. 

Robin must see something on his face because she quickly talks again, backtracking and interrupting his thoughts. 

“Not that I don’t think it will be great, you know I just worry about things a lot. This is my anxiety talking. You know what, ignore everything I just said. You two know what you’re doing.” 

He doesn’t want her to know she’s already put doubts in his head so even though he’s starting to freak out a little he smiles and shakes his head. 

“It’s fine Rob, I’m sure we will talk more with time.” 

22 days until moving day.

Steve meant it when he said he and Eddie would talk. Meant to ask about the logistics, meant to make sure they were on the same page, he really did. But every time the move comes up Eddie just seems so sure about it already. Steve doesn’t want to make him think he’s having second thoughts. Thinks maybe it’s better to not say anything, to wait and let it come up naturally. 

He thinks maybe they’ll talk about it tonight. The kids had joked about them all evening, about how fast they were moving.

Mike had made some snarky comment about them moving to a city where they knew no one and how awkward it would be if they crashed and burned and they’d have to share a bedroom. 

Eddie had laughed, said it was good they weren’t gonna crash and burn then. But, he’d also added that his band was also going so actually he would know people. 

It was just jokes, Steve knew that. That didn’t make it any less true though. Steve wouldn’t have anyone except Eddie, sure he liked the guys in his band but they weren’t his friends. Steve would have Eddie and Eddie would have his band. It suddenly seemed like a big deal.

He expects Eddie to also feel it, to get worried and bring it up but he doesn’t. If he is worried he isn’t saying anything, just like Steve isn’t.

8 days until moving day.

There’s a knock on Steve's door and when he opens Gareth is standing there. Steve is a lot confused about it but lets him in. 

“Uh,” he starts a little unsure, “do you want anything to drink or?” He offers, mostly because he doesn’t know what else to say or do. 

Gareth shakes his head, looking about as uncomfortable as Steve feels. Shuffling around where he’s standing and fiddling with the sleeve of his shirt. “No, I’m gonna leave again soon. I just came here to say something.” 

Steve gestures for him to speak, “I’m listening.” 

Gareth doesn’t immediately say anything, he shuffles some more and looks around the room before his eyes land on Steve again, a determined look in them. 

“Look, I like you. I know Eddie loves you.”

Steve can’t help but smile a little at that, even though he’s starting to suspect he’s in for a shovel talk. 

“And like, I probably wouldn’t do this if it weren’t for the fact that you haven’t dated for very long at all and are about to move in together in a city four hours away.”Gareth pauses and waits to speak again until Steve nods, showing he’s listening. 

“Eddie does things without thinking. He doesn’t think about the consequences, not anything, just does. I love that about him, it’s the reason our band has gotten anywhere at all, but it also means that he gets hurt a lot, disappointed a lot. He can handle it with most things, he won’t be able to handle it with you.”

“What are you saying?” Steve asks even though he’s pretty sure he already knows. 

Gareth looks pained but continues, “I’m saying that if you aren’t one hundred percent sure about moving with him, if you have any doubts at all, you can’t go.”

Steve can’t suppress his flinch. He expected Gareth to say he needed to be sure, that if he wasn’t he needed to tell Eddie. He wasn’t expecting him to say he shouldn’t, no, couldn’t go. 

Gareth catches it and narrows his eyes, “I mean it Steve, it will break him more if you go, let him think it’s gonna work and then leave, then if you don’t go at all.” He steps closer to Steve, getting into his space. “So, if you’re not absolutely sure,” he pauses, steps even closer, “Do. Not. Go.” He punctuates every word and then he turns on his heel and leaves.

6 days until moving day.

Steve needs to talk with Eddie about it now, can’t ignore it anymore. He isn’t gonna just not go like Gareth told him to do. No, he’ll talk to Eddie and it will be fine. 

They’re in his bed together, laying next to each other. Skin touching skin and a comfortable silence between them. Now is as good a time as any. 

“Hey, Eddie?” 

“Mhh?” He hums, shifting slightly next to him. 

“What happens if something goes wrong when we move?” 

Eddie snorts, “what? Like if we get a flat wheel? I know how to change a wheel, sweetheart.” 

Steve smiles despite his nerves, tries to not imagine what Eddie would look like changing a wheel. 

“Good to know, but no, not quite what I meant.” 

Next to him, Eddie props himself up on his elbow so he can properly look at Steve. 

“What did you mean?” He reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind Steve’s ear as he speaks. Steve has to focus harder than he’d like to admit to not get lost in it. Even the smallest touches have an effect on him when it’s Eddie. 

“What if something happens with us?” His voice is small and he can’t look at Eddie, afraid of what his reaction might be. “Remember that thing Mike said about us not really knowing anyone there? Just, what would happen?” 

“Baby,” Eddie gently grabs Steve’s chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting his face towards him. Steve easily follows but closes his eyes. 

“Baby, please look at me,” Eddie’s voice is even softer than before, and Steve has always been weak when it comes to Eddie asking him to do things so he slowly blinks his eyes open.

“There you are,” he smiles, face open and tendrils of hair falling around it. He looks angelic and Steve almost forgets what they are talking about, too overwhelmed by the man next to him. 

Eddie keeps them on track though. 

“Like I told Mike, nothing will happen. We will be fine. But,” he continued before Steve can protest, “if something does, we both have jobs already, we’ve done this right. We will be able to save eventually. Quicker because we’re two people, paying rent and all that stuff on two salaries. If something happens we will have that security.” 

Steve relaxes then and Eddie must see it because he grins and continues, “now if you didn’t have a job then I’d be worried. I’m not cut out for all the responsibility of being the breadwinner, princess.”

Steve groans and shoves Eddie away. Mostly to hide the blush he can feel creeping up his face just from Eddie calling him princess. Judging by the way Eddie cackles he doesn’t have to see Steve blush to know the effect it has on him. 

He reaches out and pulls Steve in against his chest. “Worst case scenario we have to move back. Wayne will probably pretend to be unhappy about it but he’ll let me take over his trailer again. And, I know you have complicated feelings about this house, that your parents are the worst, but you’ll be able to come back if you need to.” 

“Okay,” Steve says, his worries mostly calmed. 

1 day until moving day. 

Steve and Eddie are spending the night apart. Eddie wanting to spend his last night with Wayne and both of them needing to do some last minute packing. 

Just as he finishes closing one of the last boxes the phone rings, he’s a bit confused about who would call him right now. His friends all having seen him earlier in the day to say goodbye. Maybe Eddie needs to double-check what time they decided to leave. 

He picks up but it’s not Eddie, or even one of the kids, who speaks.

“Steven,” his mother's shrill voice crackles on the other end of the line. 

“Hi mom,” he tries to hide his sigh as he speaks, doesn’t have the energy to get into anything with her right now, doesn’t want her to ruin his excitement. 

“I thought you were moving to Chicago alone?” 

His freezes, when he told his parents he was gonna move he didn’t say he was going alone but he also didn’t mention Eddie. He knew they wouldn’t like it, knew it would be easier to let them assume he was going by himself. 

“But I just got off a call with Mrs. Hagan and she told me that Tommy had said you were moving there with- with that cult boy? The one who’s wanted for murder?” 

Steve closes his eyes and this time he doesn’t bother hiding his sigh. Fucking Tommy, he’s always had a big mouth but Steve suspects that this hadn’t been him blabbering without thinking. No, Steve thinks Tommy knew exactly what he was doing telling his mom this piece of information. 

“His name is Eddie, and he was cleared of all charges. The ‘cult’ was literally just a school club.”

“So it’s true? You’re moving with him?” Her voice is sharp and even just hearing it over the phone makes him flinch.

“Yeah, we’re friends and it’s cheaper that way. We got a better apartment because we’re two people with a job each.” It’s such a simplification of the truth it’s almost a lie but Steve doesn’t think this is the time to come out to her. He hopes the ‘better apartment’ comment will calm her, it’s the sort of thing she cares about after all. Not for his safety and comfort though but for how it will reflect on her.

He’s not sure she actually hears him though because she hisses a vicious, “If you move with him you will not be welcome back Steven, this will be the last time we speak.” Before she hangs up on him. 

Steve carefully places the phone back in its cradle, then he’s left standing alone in the living room, both too shocked to move and not really shocked at all. 

He’s not close to his parents. Has slowly been understanding just how much they’ve neglected him. He’s been relieved about moving away, about being in another city where he won’t have to see them when they waltz back into town. But to never speak to them again? That’s a whole different thing. He still hoped that they’d be able to fix their relationship. That him not being dependent on them anymore would allow him to stand up for himself. That everything would get better. Now instead, the thing he thought would allow their relationship to get better is gonna destroy it forever. 

He debates calling Eddie, wants to tell him what his mom just said, wants to hear his voice, wants to let him make it better. He decides against it, he doesn’t wanna ruin Eddie’s last night with Wayne and he’ll see him tomorrow anyway. He can tell him in the car. 

He doesn’t call Robin either, she’ll insist on coming over and he knows she’s on a date with Nancy right now. He doesn’t wanna ruin that either, even though both of them will tell him he’s not, he knows he will be. He goes to bed instead, sleep seems like the best option right now, at least he won’t have to think if he’s asleep.

Moving day.

He ended up not really sleeping at all. Tossing and turning for hours and after finally falling asleep sometime in the early morning he wakes up just hours later from a nightmare. He doesn’t remember what it was about but can feel the lingering panic. He gives up on getting any more sleep, doesn’t wanna risk more nightmares when he’s alone.

He picks at his breakfast, still thrown off from the conversation with his mom the night before and not feeling like eating, so he gives up on that too. He spends the rest of the morning wandering around, touching the walls and the furniture in the house he grew up in. The house he’s been left alone in since he was nine. The house he both hates and loves. The house he will never be allowed to return to after today. 

Then the phone rings again, it’s probably his mom calling to ask if he’s decided to stay he thinks. It’s not, it turns out.

“Hi I’m Patricia, I’m looking for Steve Harrington?” A chipper voice says.

“This is him.”

“Okay well, good. I’m calling about a barista job you’re supposed to start with us next week.” 

“Yeah?” Steve chews on his cheek. 

“I’m so sorry but due to our rent being raised we’re having to do cutbacks. Since you haven’t signed your contract with us yet, it’s the first one to go.” 

“You’re firing me?” Steve asks, it’s not entirely right since he hasn’t started yet but it’s all he can think to say. 

“Essentially,” Patricia responds, “I’m sorry for the short notice.” 

“Okay,” he says, his voice void of emotion, “thank you for calling.” 

He hangs up without waiting for a response, he doesn’t have the energy to be polite. 

He barely has time to let the information sink in before his doorbell rings. Eddie on the other side of the door with a wide grin on his face. 

“Did you oversleep?” He jokes. 

Steve’s confused for a second but then he realizes he’s still in his pajamas, that he’s spent the whole morning wandering around like a ghost in his house not getting any of the things he needed to do done. 

He hasn’t packed the bag of all his essentials. He hasn’t gotten dressed. He hasn’t even brushed his teeth. What he has done is get fired from a job he never even started.

He sees Eddie’s teasing smile, the combination of it and his sudden joblessness tugs at something in his brain, brings back the conversation they had last week.

“Now, if you didn’t have a job then I’d be worried. I’m not cut out for all the responsibility of being the breadwinner princess.”

He doesn’t have a job. He’ll have to live off Eddie and what little savings he has left. Become a responsibility Eddie doesn’t want, a burden probably.

“Worst case scenario we move back”, “you’ll be able to come back if you need to.”

If he leaves now he won’t be able to come back. 

Gareths words play back in his mind too.

“if you have any doubts at all, you can’t go.”, “it will break him more if you go, let him think it’s gonna work and then leave, then if you don’t go at all.”

“I’m not going,” Steve hears himself say as he steps back from the hand Eddie reaches out to him. 

“You’re not-“ Eddie looks so confused. “Like today? Do you need extra time? We can postpone by a couple of days but-“

He’s not getting it. Steve interrupts him, needs to make him understand because he can’t listen to him try to come up with solutions. 

“No, Eddie. I’m not going it all.” 

The words feel wrong in his mouth but he forces them out anyways. 

“What do you mean?” Eddie asks and it fucking ruins him. He feels his carefully blank expression break, despair showing through. 

“I can’t leave Hawkins, the kids,” he has to look away from Eddie as he says this. Knows it’s the only thing Eddie won’t question, knows Eddie thinks he doesn’t mean as much to Steve as the kids do. “They need me.”

“When did you decide you weren’t going?” Eddie asks and Steve didn’t know it was possible but he breaks even more from that, from Eddie not fighting him. 

I didn’t, he thinks, I don’t know why I’m saying this now. If you ask me to stop and just go with you I will. 

“A couple of days ago,” he lies. 

It’s silent then, just their breathing and the distant sound of cars down the street being heard. Eventually, Eddie breaks it.

“Steve?”

His voice cracks in the middle. Steve can hear the plea for him to take it all back and he nearly does, has to swallow the words creeping up his throat before they get out. 

“I’m sorry,” he says instead. He turns around, closing the door behind him. Destroying their future and breaking the last bit of his heart in the process.

He doesn’t get more than two steps into the house before his legs give out beneath him. He stays there, sitting on the floor for what feels like forever. 

After some time he hears a car drive away and he knows Eddie has left. He feels silent tears start streaming down his face that soon turns into sobs. Making him curl in on himself and gasp for air. 

He doesn’t know how long he stays there, crying until he can’t anymore and then just sitting there. But after a while, he’s interrupted by a loud ringing. For the third time in less than twenty-four hours he picks up the god-forsaken phone. 

“Hello?” He rasps, his voice dull and raw from crying.

“Steven. You made the right decision and stayed I take it?” His mother asks.

“Yes.” He says and hangs up on her. 

[the-art-of-sanshoku]

Writing fanfiction is hard guys...