#either through holding on to them or them holding her as she rewinds

[bulletbilltime]

One of my favorite tropes I've seen in some LiS fics is when Max is able to bring Chloe and/or Rachel with her when she time travels or time stops. The intimacy of breaking the laws of space-time with someone you love is just... ough

[dindjarindiaries]

The Art of Letting Go

summary: After Omega leaves for her new adventure, you seek to comfort the one who's sent her off.

pairing: hunter (the bad batch) x reader

tags: season 3 finale spoilers, emotional hurt/comfort, references to trauma/death, fluff

rating: T

word count: 2.653k

main masterlist • hunter masterlist

You watched as the ship soared into Pabu’s evening sky, a wealth of emotion welling inside your chest as it rose and fell in a steady breath. Tears brimmed your waterline, but you were able to blink them back. It was mostly joy and pride that had a grip on your emotions for the young woman Omega had become.

But letting go was never easy, especially for the person who was no doubt struggling even more than you were to watch her go.

It was easy to navigate your way to Omega’s makeshift hangar, especially with the light you had brought along with you. Hunter had never quite let go of the urge to stay hidden, and so you had the foresight to predict that the lights illuminating the hangar would already be out by the time you arrived. As it turned out, the amount of time you gave the two of them was perfect, too.

Omega had already said her goodbyes to you in confidence. You had promised not to tell anyone, not even Hunter, that she was leaving, but you had at least warned her that he would find out on his own. The conversations you and Hunter had already had about her itching to join the fight made that clear. When he left your bed that night, then, it wasn’t a surprise—and hopefully Omega wasn’t that surprised, either.

Batcher’s barking interrupted your mental rewind and brought you back to the present. You smiled as you bent down to meet her, setting aside your light for a moment as you pet her with both hands. She let out a sad trill, her big eyes sparkling with a sadness you felt deep within your own chest.

“I know, girl.” You set a gentle kiss on the top of her wrinkling head. “I’ll miss her too.” You smiled and scratched your hand against the side of her face. “She’ll be back when the fight’s over.”

You looked beyond Batcher and saw Hunter’s silhouette by the mouth of the cavern. He was still standing by the lights he had turned off, his back facing you as he looked out at Pabu’s night sky.

With an affectionate huff, you patted Batcher’s head and rose once again. You took up your light and walked through the hangar to meet him where he was. When you reached him, you stood by his side, letting him be the first one to speak.

“I knew you were coming.” You looked up at Hunter and caught the slight rise in the corner of his mouth. Still, what was even more prominent was the shine in his eyes, created by the tears brimming his waterline that he refused to shed. You softened and shuffled yourself closer to his side.

“Was it your senses that gave me away, or Batcher’s barking?” Your words were nothing but a tease as you set the light down at your side.

Hunter chuckled at that. “Neither.” He steadied himself with a breath, though his exhale was pushed through an evident knot within his throat. “I just knew.”

You raised your hand to his back, brushing over it in slow, soothing circles as you spoke. “You knew she was leaving, too.”

Hunter didn’t respond for a long moment. You looked up at him again, watching as his bearded jaw ticked for composure. He eventually nodded and glanced down at his feet. “I did.” He huffed and raised his brow. “We all did.” His head turned in your direction, but his teary eyes still couldn’t meet your own. “Wrecker and Crosshair came to terms with it. They were even talking strategy with her.”

Finally, his brown gaze looked up, his immensely sad yet proud dark eyes meeting yours. He was only able to hold your gaze for a few seconds before he closed his eyes and started to lower his head.

“I’m only one who wasn’t ready.”

You turned towards him, lifting your hand from his back to instead hold the sides of his face. He kept his eyes closed, the knit in his brow tightening as he refused to give up his fight for composure. You let out a soft breath, twisting your lips before looking out at the nearby shore. “Come on.” You were nothing but gentle as you tapped Hunter’s cheek. “Let’s go for a walk.”

Hunter reopened his eyes at that, watching as you bent back down to pick up your light again. “On this terrain?” He let out a curt breath. “My knees aren’t what they used to be.”

You scoffed and jostled his shoulder. “Okay, Sergeant. I’ll just go by myself, then.”

Hunter raised an eyebrow. “In the middle of the night?” He gave his head a shake. “You know that’s not happening.”

You laughed and shrugged with a victorious smirk. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”

Even Hunter chuckled before he whistled to call Batcher over. She followed, moving much slower than she used to, and began to follow as you led the way out of the cavern and towards the Pabu shore. The hand not holding the light held Hunter’s, and he held yours just as tight. As suspected, he had no problem navigating the terrain that you all called home.

After a long while of walking, you settled on the nearby sandy shore, remaining far from the tide as you stopped and began to sit. Hunter followed suit, letting out a few grunts as he got down to your level. You chuckled warmly, catching his warning glance that was coated in amusement—though he was effortlessly able to keep your eyes on him.

The evening breeze was sweeping through his hair, softly jostling the long ends that were hanging from his forehead. They had only grown longer and longer over the years, and you were glad he decided to keep it that way. With a smile stuck to your lips, you raised a hand to gently brush them out of his eyes, the other hand still tight in his. Your knuckles ran over the side of his face as you admired the way Pabu’s moon and stars cast a warm glow over him, illuminating the flecks of light in his dark gaze.

Hunter raised his brow at you before giving his head a shake. “Don’t look at me like that.”

Your hand fell into your lap. “Like what?”

Hunter hummed, the corners of his lips curving upwards in a small smile. “Like I’m still young.”

You clicked your tongue, leaning closer until he bent his forehead down to meet yours. Your gaze gave him an obvious once-over as your smile remained. “You’ve only gotten more handsome with time.” You let out a soft laugh as you squeezed his hand and lifted the other back up to his face. “I had no idea that was even possible.”

Hunter’s cheek warmed beneath your touch as he let out a shy huff. “Well… thank you.” He leaned further into you until his lips were on yours, a sweet yet familiar touch that overwhelmed you with a wave of warmth. You had grown used to the feeling of hair on his upper lip, something as reliable and consistent as the soft locks your hand was able to tend to even as you pulled away from the brief display of affection.

Your eyes watched as your fingers made their way back to his cheek, your thumb running over the graying edges of his beard as you did so. You smiled at the recent memory the sight brought you. “I was right, you know.” Hunter’s brow furrowed as he waited for you to go on. “Omega likes the beard, too.”

“Yeah?” Hunter’s gaze sparkled as he raised a quizzical eyebrow. “So, you two were talking about me again?”

You let out a soft laugh and ran your thumb over the outline of his tattoo on his cheekbone. “We can’t help it.” Your smile softened from one of amusement to one of affection. “We both care a lot about you.”

For a moment, Hunter was able to return your smile with a breathless amount of fondness. “I care a lot about you two, too.” His hand tightened around yours. “That’s why I can’t…”

He paused, and you let him take his time. His eyes became more sad again as he inhaled a deep breath. They closed, and he spoke as he released his shaky exhale.

“... Let go.”

You offered him a more supportive smile. “You just did.” Your gaze gestured to the open stretch of Pabu sky above you.

Hunter shrugged, his gaze beginning to avert yours again as the tears returned to his waterline. “I tried.” He let out a breath of defeat, but after winning so many battles all those years ago during the war, it was clear that only his resilience was keeping him from doing exactly what he was struggling with.

Your thumb ran along his face as you invited him to lean into your palm. “Then try again.” You offered him a nod of reassurance. “Let go, Hunter.”

His brow wrinkled together, but after a long moment of consideration, it relaxed in understanding. Hunter’s jaw tightened as his body continued to fight him, but his trembling lips proved he was fighting to do exactly as you had told him to. Your hand on his face ran back towards his hair, guiding his head to your shoulder as you held him close.

Hunter’s shoulders heaved once, and you rested your cheek against his head. Your hand ran over his hair, minding the bump of the upper half that had been secured back. “There you go.” Your voice was gentle to as to avoid startling him, especially when he so badly needed this release. “It’s okay. It’s normal to feel this way.” Your thumb ran over his hand the best it could as it remained entwined with his own. “None of us were ever going to be ready to let her go.”

Hunter continued to stay close, though he shifted his head on your shoulder so that he could speak to you. “I never wanted her to have to fight, but…” he sighed, “I should’ve known it was inevitable.”

“You bought her freedom and gave her peace.” Your fingers threaded softly through his locks, minding his senses—no matter how much they were beginning to fade those days. “Now, she wants to return the favor to the rest of the galaxy.”

Hunter took a deep breath, steadying himself before he sat back up to face you. Your free hand slid to his chest as his stayed tight in yours, keeping you both close to one another as you watched the desperate shine of his gaze. “I know she will, and I know she’s capable.” He lifted an eyebrow and failed to hide the fondness in his voice. “We were the ones who trained her, after all.”

You laughed and nodded. “Yes, we were.”

The warmth in Hunter’s eyes began to fade again as he went on. “She’ll do justice for the one of us who taught her how to fly.” His shoulders started to deflate as a new grief fell upon him. It was a wound that festered within everyone’s hearts over the years, but especially Hunter’s, thanks to the guilt he could never quite conquer. “I just can’t lose her like we lost him.”

“We won’t.” You had full confidence in the quick reassurance as you lifted your hand to Hunter’s face once again. Your fingers brushed away a new tear that had escaped one of his eyes. “She was a threat to the Empire as a child. They don’t stand a chance against her now.”

Hunter at least huffed at that. “I know. I just…” He circled his jaw, his gaze floating up to the night sky as he searched for some kind of explanation.

“Your feelings don’t need rationale, Hunter.” You let go of his hand and wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head upon his shoulder. You looked out at the stars, following the path Omega and her ship had taken. “The heart doesn’t recognize logic.”

Hunter took a deep breath of relief before you felt his face bury itself in your head. You both stayed like that for a long while, with only the sounds of Batcher’s gentle snoring somewhere beyond you and the waves washing on the shore filling the air. Eventually, Hunter was able to give voice to one new thought. “Why me?”

You furrowed your brow, but kept your head where it was. “What do you mean?”

Hunter adjusted so that his chin was resting upon your head. “Why is it me who’s struggling the most with this?”

You couldn’t help smiling as the truth fell upon you. You could only hope Hunter would do the same as you shared it with him. “Because you love her, Hunter. You’ve cared for her ever since the beginning, before any one of us did the same. It’s not easy to give that caretaking role up, especially when it’s been your main role ever since we stopped fighting.”

Hunter exhaled a steady breath, his lips kissing your head before he rested his cheek against it. “How you manage to have the answers to everything will never fail to amaze me.”

You chuckled and gave his waist a squeeze. “Well, it’s pretty easy to figure you out after I’ve had all these years to study you, Sarge.”

Hunter snorted, though he brought you closer as his arm held your shoulders tighter. “Having that time has made every single fight worth it. All the wins…” he took a moment to steady himself, “and the losses.”

You found one of his hands again and wove his fingers through yours, giving it a squeeze. Your own eyes closed as you found the strength to bring your words to fruition. “That’s what he gave his life for, Hunter.” You turned your head to kiss his clothed shoulder. “It was his own selfless choice, and it was never, ever your fault.”

Hunter exhaled, a shaky breath that rattled through his chest. His voice wavered as he responded. “I hope I can believe that one day.”

“You will.” You reopened your eyes and smiled as you looked into the stars yet again. “You’ll believe it when you see how much of him Omega carries in herself, and how she’ll show that when she comes home and tells us all about her adventures in this fight.”

His grip on your hand tightened as the fingers on your shoulder began to run in circles. “I miss her already.”

“So do I.” You lifted your head from his shoulder for a moment to offer him some of the strength and honesty in your gaze. He returned your look. “But she’ll be back sooner than we think.”

Hunter���s gaze searched yours even as he asked his question. “How do you know that?”

You beamed at him. “Because she’s your daughter.” You reached for the back of his neck to rest his forehead against yours once again. “And she watched as you and the others never stopped fighting to get back to your loved ones.” You nodded and ran your thumb over his lips. “She’ll do the same.”

The corners of Hunter’s mouth began to turn up in a hopeful smile as he returned your nod. Your smile widened, and you leaned close until it melted against his own—initating yet another wordless promise of the bright and loving future you still had ahead of you, even as a piece of both your hearts flew farther and farther away in the galaxy.

main masterlist • hunter masterlist

hunter tag list: @zenrobbins0021 @cw80831 @yunggoblin @maddiedrmr 

[xiaq]

Thanks for all the prompts! I combined a few: Outsider POV, getting together with the help of friends, Steve Harrington is an Idiot (affectionate), Rocky Horror, and “did we almost just kiss?”

“Robin,” Steve says, before he’s even fully in the Family Video door. “I’m having a crisis.”

She shoves another VHS tape into the rewinder. “No.”

“What do you mean, no?” He whines, collapsing face-first onto the counter.

“I mean no. I don’t have time for a crisis right now. We just finished a crisis and I require at least fifteen business days between crises. I do not have the bandwidth.”

“It’s not like a crisis, crisis,” he mutters. “It’s…a personal crisis.”

She flicks the side of his head. “What is the nature of this personal crisis?”

He rolls his face so his cheek is pressed to the laminate. He meets her eyes. “How did you know you liked girls?”

“Oh,” Robin says. The tape rewinder clicks but she doesn’t move. “Oh. Yeah, we can handle this crisis now. It’s long overdue.”

“Long over—” Steve straightens, weight on his elbows. “What?”

“Honestly I thought we were going to have this conversation during the whole Rocky Horror Picture Show thing but––”

“Robin”

“Sorry. Right. I knew I liked girls because I liked girls. I knew I liked girls because I wanted to kiss girls.”

“Yeah. But how did you know it was more than the normal amount?”

“…the normal amount,” she repeats.

“Well sure,” he scrubs a hand through his hair. “Everyone wants to kiss everyone a little bit, right? Like. How did you know it was more than the normal heterosexual amount?”

Robin cannot believe she’s going to have to say this out loud. She glances around the empty store just to make sure no one has somehow teleported in during the last two minutes.

“Steve. Steven. There is no normal heterosexual amount of wanting to kiss people of the same gender.”

He crosses his arms. “Well, that can’t be right.”

“Hold on. Wait. What boys have you wanted to kiss?” She can guess, but confirmation would be nice.

“Are you sure that––”

“Yes, I’m sure. But back to the boys you’ve wanted to kiss. Have you…acted on that, ever?

“Yeah but just the––oh. Well. You’re probably going to say there isn’t a normal heterosexual amount of kissing the same gender either.”

“How are you this stupid.”

“I mean, everyone messes around with their friends at some point, right?”

“I desperately wish that was true,” Robin answers. “Because if it was, I would not be standing here at 19 years old finding out that Steve Harrington has kissed a boy before I kissed a girl. Jesus. Wait. How many boys have you kissed?”

“Three?”

“Three? Unbelievable.”

Except now he’s wearing his big-eyed, floppy-haired sad expression and she knows, she knows she’s not handling this the way she should.

Robin sighs. “Ok, I’m sorry. Thank you for trusting me with this. I love you and I’m here for you and it sounds like you’re bisexual. Which is actually pretty cool because that means I know two whole queer people other than myself in Hawkins. Well. Probably three. But that hasn’t been officially confirmed.”

“Bi-sexual.” He rolls the word around in his mouth like he’s tasting it. “Bisexual. Huh. Okay.”

“It means you like both. Or, any, I guess. Which no, is not normal for everyone.”

“Okay. Bisexual. Neat. Who else do you know?”

She raises an eyebrow at him.

“Right. That would be super uncool of you to tell me without their permission. But, um. Are they people I know?”

“They’re people you know.”

“Are they over the age of 16?”

“One of them is.”

The hopeful look on Steve’s face is actually a little gross.

“Are they–”

“Eddie!” Robin says, “hey, what are you doing here so early?”

Steve’s reaction to Eddie pushing open the door provides all the confirmation she needs about which boy Steve currently wants to kiss. Not that there was a lot of uncertainty there anyway. He’d practically kept vigil at Eddie’s bedside while he was in the hospital and in the last month since Eddie was released, they’ve become weirdly inseparable. Half the time when Robin calls in the middle of the night to talk though her nightmares, it’s Eddie answering the Harrington phone. And when no one answers the Harrington phone, a call to the Munson phone will usually do the trick. She’s tempted to think they’re already together except Eddie’s pining has only gotten worse over the last week. If they were banging he’s be less insufferable. Well. He might still be insufferable but in like, a happy, well-fucked way. She doesn’t want to think about that.

“Eddie,” Steve says, “hi.”

“...hi,” Eddie says, understandably confused by Steve’s strangled greeting. He rocks back and forth on his heels, hands shoved in the pockets of a pair of black jeans that are, for once, not ripped. “So. Big news.” He spreads his arms. “You are now looking at a gainfully, legally, employed, upstanding citizen of Hawkins.”

Robin isn’t really surprised. The owner of the auto shop across the street that Eddie applied to is friends with Wayne and a regular at Hideout. If there’s anyone who’s willing to look past Eddie’s poor reputation, it’s him. And Eddie had gotten some sort of automotive certificate the year before in shop class. One of the few things he’d passed with flying colors.

“Oh my god,” Steve says. He stumbles over to hug him and then twirls him around like they’re in one of the stupid romcom videos on the back wall. “Eddie,” Steve says again, this time so overwhelmingly full of tenderness that Robin feels like she’s intruding despite the fact that she’s, you know, standing behind the counter of her own place of work. 

“Congratuations,” Steve continues. He’s set Eddie down again but they’re still so close, arms tangled together, that he’s practically speaking the words into Eddie’s mouth. “When do you start?”

Eddie doesn’t answer. Eddie seems to have misplaced his self-awareness because he’s swaying forward, through the scant space left between them, and oh my God, Robin is going to have to do something or they’re definitely going to have their first kiss in the Family Video with her watching.

Robin slams the clamshell case on the Aristocats return she’d just rewound. They jump apart, looking dazed. Steve runs a hand through his hair. Eddie plays with his rings. Even though they’re no longer touching, they’re still looking at each other with the kind of naked affection that could get them in trouble if they’re not careful. Well. More trouble. 

“Eddie, that’s awesome,” Robin says brightly. “When do you start?”

“Oh. Monday, actually.”

“That’s great. You and Steve should celebrate tonight.”

“We…should.” Eddie agrees.

“I have plans. Important plans. That I can’t miss. But Steve was just telling me that he wanted to watch Rocky Horror again, right Steve?”

“I–yes?”

“And you like Rocky Horror, right Eddie?”

Eddie narrows his eyes at her. “I do.”

“Great.”

She gives Steve a significant look.

“I’ll come to your place with the movie once I’m off?” Steve suggests to Eddie.

Eddie nods slowly. “Yes. Cool. Cool cool cool. I’ll get pizza. And see you then.” He salutes for some ungodly reason but Steve salutes him back like that’s a normal thing to do and they grin at each other as Eddie walks backward toward the door.

Idiots.

God, she loves them so much.

Steve waits until the van has pulled out of the parking lot to resume his face-down position on the counter.

She goes back to rewinding tapes.

She waits.

“Did we almost just kiss?” he asks finally. “In the Family Video.”

“Sure looked like it,” Robin says. “Which is not advisable. I feel like I shouldn’t have to tell you that.”

“Yeah, obviously, but that means…if I try to kiss him tonight he’d probably go for it, right?”

“Only one way to find out,” Robin sighs.

Except she already knows that tomorrow morning Steve Harrington will have kissed four boys and she still has yet to kiss a single girl. 

Unbelievable.

Steve sits up with sudden purpose. “I am. I’m going to kiss him tonight.”

“Great. Super happy for you. Can you help me rewind some tapes until then?”

Already working on PT. 2 which is Wayne’s POV when he accidentally intrudes on their celebration that night. So. Stay tuned for that.

Pt. 2 is Here.

[savvyreyes4587]

Your Choice, My order.

Pm!Dazai x Fem!reader

Author's note: Chapter one came out quicker than expected so I hope you'll enjoy it and sorry if it's too short, also half edited.

Summary: Dazai is intrigued with you but there is only one problem… you're not happy about it.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Blood, death, gore and mentions of suicide.

Go to Life Waster Series.

"So are you going to tell me?" Odasaku didn't have to look at Dazai to indicate what he was talking about, they both knew what he was asking.

Dazai only stared ahead, the emptiness he felt inside out somewhat ceased but it wouldn't fully go away… ever.

But truth be told, now he at least had something to keeo him intrigued enough until it either go away or simply… die and that something happened to be you.

Someone they called Time Weaver, a being able, to not see ahead into the future like Odasaku, but to manipulate time itself, go back in it or apparently slow it down, if what Chuuya told him was true.

She was a ghost to everyone, wherever she was, death followed and not a single person had seen her face before, at least not people he knew until Chuuya jumped in one day and claimed that he knew what you looked like but the slug refused to elaborate on when or why or how.

That was how he managed to corner you when he saw you at the bar which unfortunately proved that he was right, that he knew what you looked like but the idiot didn't think his actions through or how powerful you were and if it wasn't for Dazai then at least half the port mafia would've been attending his funeral right now.

Dazai was a curious being even though the abomination he was… it was human nature to be curious and he needed to know more about you, your ability, what it could and couldn't do. 

He desperately needed a distraction from the dark shadow looming over him, fucking with his mind and pushing him to a terrifying point that hadn't came in a very long time and you were that distraction whether you wanted to be it or not.

"Dazai?" It was Ango's voice that pulled him back go reality, the music from bar Lupin returning to his hearing and he turned to look at the two men looking at him and wondered if they saw into his thoughts…

Still, keeping appearances, Dazai sighed dramatically and finally answered. "She can control time." 

Odasaku looked like he was going to jump to the conclusion that you were like him but Dazai spared him the confusion after taking a swig of his drink.

"Not see into the future but she can slow time down, rewind it, shoot ropes from her body and who knows what else, she still didn't wake up yet." He clarified nonchalantly as if he didn't give a shit about the ability user or the ability itself but only a blind man wouldn't see the intrest he had in both.

Ango scoffed, his disapproval obvious "Yeah because you thought it was a good idea to have Kouyou as your plan B." 

Dazai pouted and shook his head. "I didn't know she was going to hit her that hard." 

"What do you expect from someone with the Golden Demon?" Ango barley moved an inch when Dazai hid himself behind Odasaku as if Ango was coming for his head.

Dazai tightened his hold on Odasaku's coat as he chanted. "Be gone, Devil." 

Oda only shook his head at the weird argument before an alarm went off on all their phones, indicating an attack on the port mafia.

In a blink of an eye, the childlike behaviour disappeared as they all stood up and got inside Ango's car as he drove them to the port mafia HQ while Dazai tried to contact Chuuya, his mood ruined thanks to the sudden emergency. 

When Chuuya finally answered after the fifteenth call attempt, that was how he started the conversation. "You waste of bandages! I told you we should hold her at a warehouse and not here!" 

Dazai's eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas day, hearing that you were awake, wrecking havoc and probably ruining Chuuya's outfit and mood… this night was starting to get better.

"That's why an emergency was called?" Dazai asked as Oda eyed him curiously, especially with the creepy smile Dazai had on his face.

Chuuya let out a trail of curses and the sound of things breaking, glass shattering and guards groaning in pain painted a nice picture for Dazai of the situation. 

"Yeah she woke up and chose violence and half our men are with the boss and the other half is dead or dying so could you make it here quicker, you dickhead!" Chuuya yelled on the other line as shuffling was heard. 

Probably moving to a better hiding spot. Dazai thought to himself before ending the call and telling Ango to go faster while smiling like a madman.

This night was going waaaaay better than his expectations. 

A few minutes later 

When Dazai and Oda arrived at the higher floors of the building he expected wreckage and perhaps a few bodies here and there but what he didn't expect was the bloody massacre all over the place, blood covering every corner, bodies and body parts all around…

Oda looked at Dazai as if he was waiting for an explanation but how was he to explain when he himself didn't understand. 

Dazai's intrest in you was increasing by the second and he didn't even have to look for you, a body flying past both him and Oda told him all he needed to know and he rushed in that direction, his coat flying with every step until he reached his destination where Chuuya was fighting you.

The young executive took you in, the unhinged look in your eyes, the blood covering your face and clothes, ropes shooting out in every direction to get hold of Chuuya who was barley using quarter of his ability on you, holding back with all his might.

You were the very image of every emotion that Dazai ever felt, painted in one being and the stupid waste of bandages as Chuuya called him stepped closer to you, ignoring Odasaku's protests.

You body went rigid for a second and you were right in his face in a… mere parts of a second, a rope shooting its way out and wrapping around his bandaged throat, lifting him off the ground.

"No guns this time?" You questioned, voice steady and booming with authority granted by your ability. 

Chuuya was beginning to move your way, ready to knock you out clean off when Dazai's hand shot out, ordering him to stop as he gazed into your eyes and he shook his head to the best of his ability with your rope tight on his throat.

"No guns." He barley let out and you smirked at him, expression holding every evil in the world.

"Wrong move." You moved a new rope, ready to strike him with it.

"But a man near Keisuke has one." He used the ace up his sleeve even though he wished he wouldn’t have to use it this soon, it could have came in handy later.

"What?" You were taken a back, shocked with what he said and Dazai took the opportunity to use the rope you had around his neck.

He pulled it forward, pulling you with it and placed his hand on your cheek, nullifying your ability and you both stumbled to the ground and he could only watch in amusement as you didn't understand what happened. 

His chocolate brown eyes pierced into your lost ones and he almost felt bad for his next words… almost. "If you don't want Keisuke to have a bullet in his head in the next minute, you will listen." 

Dazai could swear that he had never seen someone dare glare at him with so much visible hatred the way you were doing, you eyes fiery unlike any he had seen and maybe you could compete with the way Chuuya's looked in corruption. 

Yet, you didn't attempt to move as you took in the damage you've done and the three men surrounding you, one of them who didn't kill unless necessary, one who pretended that he was the baddest soul to ever walk the earth but he was entirely different and one… who didn't have a soul, much less empathy, much less trouble with killing you if you tried anything funny.

At last the weight of the situation you were in dawned upon you as Dazai saw how your body language changed from hostile to wary as you spoke. "He doesn't have anything to do with it." 

Dazai chuckled, unable to content himself at little naive you… no man, would get himself into taking care of an ability user like yourself, without having anything to do with it but he wasn't surprised you didn't see it. 

It was obvious that you led with your heart and emotions more than logic which would cause trouble if he managed to do what he wanted, which itself would be a miracle for you.

You almost stumbled backwards when Dazai knelt down, on the same level as you and his eyes looked haunting as he talked with so little emotion, as if he didn't even know them.

"He has everything to do with it but if you cooperate… his involvement could decrease if I say so." 

For the second time, you made the mistake of maintaining eye contact with him and he too was making mistakes right now, the mistake of letting himself deal with you directly, he could feel the invisible web of yours, luring him in and he was letting it.

"What do you want from me?" You asked, or rather demanded as you brought yourself closer to him to the point where you were breathing the same air.

He smirked, leaning in closer. "You will join the port mafia under my command and together we will learn your ability." 

He knew that if you fell in the hands of someone else, the port mafia wouldn't last much, if you were against them even if you and chuuya fought each other, it would lead to a destruction like the arahabaki one and the death of both of you.

Your voice shook with fear or rage, who knew. "And if I refuse? I could kill myself and then neither you nor anyone else can have any use of me." 

At that, Dazai had to pause everything momentarily and observe you for a minute. 

A girl who had abilities that were probably not naturally given but forced upon you, no home, no one to call family… all these would probably be enough reason to suggest that you might actually off yourself but there was one thing that changed the whole equation… Keisuke. 

The young executive had sent people all over where you usually appeared and managed to gather information. 

Tanaka Keisuke, a man who owned a market but it was actually a front to what or who he truly was, he found you around two years ago, saved you from a certain fate at that time and ever since, you became his protector and saved him at every turn… treating him like a brother you never had.

But someone like Dazai knew better than that saviour story but you were naive and someone who could be drained emotionally which Keisuke used on you perfectly but that also was why Dazai decided his answer to you question. 

With all the confidence he asked. "And leave Tanaka Keisuke all alone for the people who are after you to kill him? You wouldn't be that cruel, right?" 

The fury returned to you features. "As if you're letting me protect him? You're blackmailing me." 

"I didn't say I was a saint, Belladonna, but it's a give and take situation. You give yourself to us, and you take our protection to Tanaka. It's a win-win, don't you think?" 

He could see it behind those eyes of yours, the gears slowly turning and thinking of every possible outcome to any answer you would give.

"So what will it be, Bella? Us or Tanaka's death?" Dazai questioned.

Your gaze drifted to Chuuya, who was watching the scene unfold with a frown upon his face, not liking Dazai's plan but he could see why you turned to Chuuya, to you he probably looked like someone who might ensure his word.

Chuuya came closer, tone soft, meant to lure you to their trap. "I will be in direct control of his protection, he will be safe if you agree." 

You fell silent as your eyes were stuck on the floor but Dazai saw it, he had already won and you would be agreeing.

Step one was complete, now to the more complicated step… convincing the boss to take you in…

.

.

Taglist: @v15aexe

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[clvudii-launch42]

It seriously takes me 40 minutes to watch through a 22 minute long episode.

Oh, why?

Well, I need to rewind every scene so I can see every character's expression, need to know where all of them are looking, and where they had their arms. I also need to rewind every cute scene I see, if I missed one single detail, could either be I missed a detail of a rock or tree in the background, or it could even be a background thing/background character. When it's about cute scenes with yasammy for example, I need to rewind and pause for a good amount of time, just so I can take in what happens, I need to look everywhere to see where they hold each other, how long, if they move their hands/arms anything, if it's a scene where one of them is holding the other's arm, then I need to see what the other person is doing and that person holding it, where she's having her other arm that she's not holding her gf's arm with and so on and so on.

Idk if this is a problem only I have or if more people do this, but either way, I am freaking out, it is SO annoying, but I just can't stop. Like, seriously. It's not only when I watch CC/CT, it's literally every show/series/movie I'm watching. I think I'm annoying my friends when I watch stuff with them. I am rly doing my very best not to do it when I'm with other people tho.

Yeah, just rambling. Lxfkdldkdnfnnfnfnfnf.

[artiststarme]

What if Vecna cursed Steve instead of Max?

Steve has ignored his own problems for as long as he could remember. He would leave his unfinished homework at home when he knew it was due that day. He’d purposely avoid going to the doctor in order to live a little longer in ignorant bliss, to hell with the threat of further damage. He’d even leave his gas tank at a quarter full when he knew he had a long drive just so he wouldn’t have to look at an empty wallet. 

So, when his nightmares got worse and his nose started bleeding at random times and he started seeing things that weren’t actually there, well that was just another thing to ignore completely. He put a bandaid on the issue with a bottle of Tylenol and started wearing sunglasses indoors. But as the week wore on, the bags beneath his eyes began to bruise and his hair lost its pizazz. 

Robin was worried about him, that he could tell. She would hand him a homemade lunch any time he drove her to school. On their shifts together at Family Video, she would stick him in the back to rewind tapes, sort through new shipments, or even take a nap. Every day, her eyes would get more concerned until her face developed a look of perpetual worry. But, Steve ignored it. So, he had a few bad nightmares that caused him to wake up in a fit of panic. Who cares that he’d taken to carrying an extra shirt in his car because he was having so many nosebleeds? Not him. 

When the kids coerced him into finding Eddie, he was hesitant but woefully inept in arguing with them. He didn’t expect his old dealer from high school to hold a broken bottle to his throat. Certainly didn’t expect to be turned on by it either but that was something to contemplate at a much later time, preferably never. 

They found out that the Upside Down was back at it again and later found out that Chrissy and Fred had been having nightmares, nosebleeds, and depression. That they were having strong feelings of worthlessness and guilt. And if that didn’t summarize Steve to a T, he didn’t know what did. 

And Robin knew too. She called him out on it, at first in secret but when he brushed it off, she told the group. Steve would never forget the horror on Dustin’s face when he found out that he was cursed. It gave them a new sense of determination. They had to save their babysitter, nay- their friend, no matter what the cost. 

But Steve? He wasn’t sure he was worth the effort. His life certainly wasn’t even slightly as important as the lives of any of his friends. He wasn’t willing to sacrifice any of them so he was immediately against any and all of their plans. 

He almost died too. When they were lounging at his house, strategizing and such, Vecna got him. He started to lift into the air and could feel his bones creaking under an invisible force. Robin and Nance called Dustin right then to tell him about the effect music had on the victim. Eddie, poor, poor Eddie, started singing Tears for Fears right away and Steve was so enamored with his deep, dulcet voice that he managed to escape. When they asked his favorite song later that day, Steve lied and said it was the Head Over Heels that Eddie had sung. 

He didn’t want to out himself by saying it was Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy by Queen. Steve was nothing if not an enigma. A man of layers upon layers hiding from his friends and everyone else behind a facade. 

They believed him, why wouldn’t they? Dustin forced a walkman into his hands and headphones over his ears. Then Robin and Eddie forced him to keep them on. The blaring music and grating voices helped him tune out of reality and focus on his thoughts. 

He was going to die and he was fine with that. As long as everyone else was safe, he’d take the L. He felt like his entire life led to this moment. Nothing he ever did was ever meaningful, ever important. But his death would be because he would save the lives that mattered. Robin, Dustin, Nancy, Eddie, Max, and Lucas would be safe. And they had each other so they would be fine. Dustin, the kid he saw as the little brother he’d always wanted, he would have Eddie. Steve knew that Eddie was his new favorite anyway. Robin? She had been mooning over Nancy since they had met up at the trailer park. She could be her best friend with Steve out of the way. Everyone else there just put up with Steve for the others so they wouldn’t miss him either. 

While he was zoned out, they decided that Steve would be the bait for Vecna in the Creel house. He could lure him there while Nancy and Robin killed his physical body from the Upside Down. They told him he just needed to focus on good memories because Vecna couldn’t find him there. 

But when push came to shove, Steve didn’t have any good memories. Even in the fun times, the times that were supposed to be fully happy, there was always a background tinge of sadness. From the earliest times he could remember to the times of late, he couldn’t think of a time he’d been truly, completely happy. 

His childhood birthday parties, he was supposed to be having fun and being a kid. Instead, he had to play the part of happy families in front of all of his dad’s work friends. He got presents but he also got abandoned by his parents any time they wanted to go on a trip. 

His first win at little league? His dad gave him his first concussion when they got home because he tagged Joshua Evans out. Joshua’s dad worked with his dad and Steve had embarrassed him by costing his team the point. 

His first A on a history test? His teacher pulled him back after class and accused him of cheating because there was no way Steve Harrington could ever study hard enough to get an A. He was much too dumb for that, right?

Even the more recent times with his found family, he couldn’t think of any times he’d truly been happy. He’s always content at work around Robin. But there’s always a fear that she’s going to leave and he’ll lose everything. She was his only true friend and when she went to school, he knew he’d be all alone. 

The times when Dustin or Max or Lucas asked him for rides? Even when they’re happy singing along in the car or laughing with each other, Steve feels a sharp sense of jealousy because he knows he’ll never have friends that care about him like that or want him around. He never had and he never would. 

And so, when Vecna finds him, Steve is all too easy for him to catch. As the Party scrambles to figure out his favorite song and settles for the wrong one. As El tries to traipse through Steve’s happy memories but finds none. And as Robin, Eddie, Dustin, and Nancy scream at him to fight. Steve gives up. And Vecna has his final victim.

@doubleb11 @nburkhardt @zerokrox-blog

[baby--charchar]

If Charlie is everyone's sunshine when she's big, then I imagine her being a very fussy and clingy baby. To her, regressing would be one of the few times she doesn't feel responsible for making sure everyone else is happy, and thus she doesn't have to FAKE being happy herself. As a baby, she can be completely honest about how terrible, awful, no good she feels occasionally. She can cry over how much she misses Vaggie when she's working on something in the hotel! She can stomp her little hooven feet every time daddy insists she needs a nap! She can even chuck her plate across the room if Vaggie insists she finishes her yucky veggies! (Okay that one is frowned upon but she is still safe to do so! Freedom of expression!).

Likewise, if a usually happy Charlie lets herself be upset in littlespace, then a super serious Vaggie can finally be silly and playful in hers.

I do see Vaggie as being autistic, so there would be a lot of unmasking she had to learn when she first started regressing. Baby Vaggie would do a lot of rocking and hand flapping when playtime starts. She just gets so excited to see Charlie or Lucifer bring out her chunky Lego sets! She has all sorts of colors and finishes for her Legos, like primary colors, pastels and jewel tones; plus shimmery, glittery, see-through, opaque. She got ALL THE LEGOS. She loves dumping them out of the massive bucket and sorting them all before she gets to building.

She also loves her movies. She's a Ghibli kid through and through. She has certain scenes that she loves playing over and over again, like when Chihiro is running down the old staircase in Spirited Away. She'll hold the remote in one hand and her favorite blankie in the other, then pace back and forth in her and Charlie's room, shaking from excitement, squealing, while rewinding the same clip every ten or so seconds. It's just...such a cool scene! The animation is so good! The voicing and sound effects are intense! She loves all the little details and can focus on one scene for an hour at a time. Charlie and Lucifer don't mind one bit, they love the happy baby!

Only 2 things can really get baby Vaggie in a sour mood: bad food and bad clothes. Vaggie has a very limited range of safe foods while in baby space, with pupusas, rice, chicken nuggets, and water being her usual fair. She makes plenty of pupusas when she's big and stores them in the freezer; that way Charlie always has something wholesome and filling to give her. But one time, Lucifer added sugar to her rice (something Charlie liked as a baby), and it did NOT go over well. Poor baby had a massive meltdown and wouldn't eat until she was big the next day.

Clothes can also be a challenge, but for the most part they have this figured out. A soft, ribbed tank top or long sleeve, super plush drawstring pajama pants, and a diaper (because the elastic on pull ups is just too tight!!!). She gets changes frequently because she hates being anything less than clean, but she's noticed Lucifer is better at closing her diaper just snug enough but not too tight.

She is completely nonverbal but is still a VERY noisy baby. All day long, Baby Vaggie is either squealing, shouting, chuffing, or cooing. Charlie made her a little communication board to help her ask for what she wants, like her favorite foods, toys, or when she just needs a cuddle.

And yeah, I do see the irony of giving them both personality switches when they're regressed...but I stand by it! Let Baby Charlie have a good cry when she needs, and see that no one's gonna be mad at her! Let Baby Vaggie relax and do everything that makes her happy, and see that she is still incredibly loved! And give Lucifer a second chance to try this whole 'dad' thing and be a proud papa of his sweet kiddos!

[kedaked]

Ok i lowkey wrote smths its ass but i wanted to share because its crossover related and all

Still here it is

I

I

I

V

Power is a disease, a disease that's supposed to make you feel strong and make you feel like you are best version of yourself, capable of doing anything at any given moment, a sickness so deadly that its capable to corrupt the minds of those who port the disease, making them into shallow cells of who they were before and losing their humanity in the pursuit of more of it, people addicted like junkies, Max is one of the porters, but this power, rewinding power more precisely doesnt feel the way a candidate for president should feel when they get elected and doesnt feel like the captain of a winning award football team keeping up their score, hell, it doesn't even feel like being a dictator of a country that so desperately wants you out of where you are but they cant do anything because you have the power.

She feels like she's dying, almost everyday of using her powers feels like one step closer to the end, nonstop headaches, bloody noses, blurry visions...the whole package of an anemic teen, the beatings havent stopped either, cliques want to start shit against the group for no other reason than to torment Jimmy more about the weight on his shoulders that is being accused of killing girls, one of them being his girlfriend, sure it sucks to be Max but it must suck to be Jimmy way more, right? Her head throbs as the thought passes through it, a cough escaping her mouth.

She should feel proud of where she is now, not every 15 year old gets superpowers like she does. She also has a super cool investigating friendgroup which she hangs out with and have made more progress than the cops in the cases of missing students! But instead it hurts, with great power, comes great.....shit.

"Here, have this Max, it will make you feel better, it's what i used to give Chloe everytime she got the flu." Max hears the accented voice of Joyce Price as the weight of the bed shifts, the woman now sitting beside her laying frame, holding a cup on her hands, smoke coming from the top signaling that its freshly made.

The door creaked open, letting a ray of light enter, Chloe wanted to see how Max was doing without disturbing her, she felt guilty enough with how she was making her go through to find Rachel and Zoe, if this was what having a superpower was like she thanked that no tribes or spiritual beings chose her to be the one to have them, she slowly closed the door and layed her back on the wall next to it.

"She's becoming a burden, Chloe." Said the boy who came after Max left, a seriousness in his voice that was so out of character for him, Gary had his arms crossed and his eyebrows furrowed, his gaze directly on her face, until they finally made eye contact. She knew, she knew he was right but she would never tell him so, to what? Fill his ego even more than it already was? To make him even more arrogant? No, she didn't think of him that way, he could still see through her turmoil, as he did when they first met each other.

"We can't just leave her here and do all the work ourselves, she's the one with the powers--"

"Do you really believe that? That she has some kind of supernatural force within her? How do you know she's not lying?"

Oh yeah, that's when she remembered that Max and Gary never knew eachother before, the line between being with her and being with him being to blurry that maybe a fantasy of them being all friends slipped through as a wannabe memory, he doesn't trust her like she does. Leaning away from the wall she took a step in his way, her expression a mix of frustration and confusion, not sure whether to be angry at him for doubting her best friend's word or to be angry at herself for knowing that she didn't fully believe in her fully.

"She wouldn't lie, she's my friend---"

"What am i then? What is Jimmy? Are we just people you can use to your advantage? Because if you know us, or at least me for that matter, you would know well i'm not happy being on the recieving end of those kind of situations, Price."

"Gary-" she couldn't finish before her mom came out of the room, empty cup in hand, she exchanged a look with both of them before nodding and going down the stairs to the first floor. Chloe pinched the bridge of her nose before laying again on the wall, all of this was a headache, a big fucking fatass headache she was dealing with.

Hour-long seconds passed before the blonde girl bitterly attempted to make conversation again, they were too different from one another but so painfully similar at the same time, which ironically made them act even worse than how they were when they were kids.

"You need to understand that what we're doing is bigger than any of us, and you're part of it too, no matter what happened in the process of you coming here, we all help eachother, Gary, no matter how little or how big."

She felt like the bigger person for a moment, and factually, she was, her being born in march and him in november, but it always felt the other way, she was way more broken about thing that were significantly less worse than what he went through at the same age, but that was just her mind, doing it's daily throw ups of senseless words, maybe she was belittleing herself too much but thats what she always did when she was around anybody, her mom, him, Rachel...that's what made people leave her, if you don't love yourself nobody is going to do it either, a cycle that never ends.

Gary's tongue clicked inside his mouth before throwing words formed of venom, not caring of who sucked it in. "I help because of a truce, i have no intentions of being all best friends with you and the other two morons you have on your side."

Chloe wanted to cry, this wasn't the boy she once knew, the one who she shared memories with, whom she had helped with his illness(mental illness) and viceversa, the dumb bowlcutted scrawny unintentionally funny boy she once knew wasn't there anymore, after that one manic episode he had just three years ago, he just stopped trusting her, and it hurt her, it hurt her because she didn't know why, maybe she did something wrong that she didn't adknowlege in time? Or maybe they weren't ever meant to be in the same place from the very beginning, if thats the reason, why is he here now?

[deityoftherain]

love like lavender - Galaxy Duo Oneshot

Rating: Teen

Relationship: Gen

Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Status: Completed Oneshot

Word Count: 2,129

Summary: Scott and Pearl loved each other, but not in the way their society wanted. Their love for one another was more like lavender, devoted and pure, but not romantic in nature. With pressure from their families and the rest of the ton, the two form a plan... (regency era lavender marriage divorce quartet au)

Full fanfic underneath the cut! Please reblog, leave kudos on the AO3 fic slash notes/likes here on Tumblr, comment either place, and etc if you enjoy the story :D

Scott’s mother was always a romantic. She would go on and on about how marrying one’s best friend was the best way to guarantee a love match, and how Scott’s father was the love of her life, but Scott had always been a skeptic at that sort of romanticism. He never felt that sort of way about his best friend, even when everyone else seemed to expect it. 

He later found that he fancied other men, not women, so perhaps that had something to do with his lack of attraction the way his mother described it. When it came to men, well… maybe he was a bit of a romantic as well. When Scott was around Martyn, his closest male “friend”, his heart sped up and his stomach did somersaults, but in a strangely pleasant way. He had never felt anything quite like it before, and he didn’t want to lose it any time soon. 

That being said, according to the recent round of gossip spreading throughout the ton, he was head over heels for his best friend, Pearl Moon. It would be laughable, considering what they meant to each other and their affections for other people, and he would have laughed if it wasn’t their best option. Hold on, let’s rewind a bit.

“I just don’t know what to do, Scott!” Pearl pressed her face into Scott’s chest, tears running down her face as her body shuttered with each muffled sob. “Father has barred me from seeing her until I find a husband.”

Scott ran his hand through her hair– she preferred to leave the blonde and brunette locks down and loose, despite her father’s protests– to provide comfort, his sympathies going out to her. As a man of high status, he had more privileges and freedom when it came to marrying than she did. Sure, he knew people talked because he spent so much time with both Pearl and Pearl’s lover, Cleo, without courting either of them, but that was more likely to damage their reputation over his. He wrinkled his nose at that sort of mindset, but changing the mind of their society was not a task he could take on single handedly. Scott’s control of the ton’s collective opinion was rocky on a good day, as much as he wished otherwise.

Luckily, he was able to present himself as honorable, and as one who would never touch a lady like that outside of marriage– not that he would otherwise. At least, not without consent and necessity. Besides, even if his eyes did wander that way, his father was a respected and influential business man. People in the ton would be foolish to go against him and his family name, one that Scott shared.

“‘You’ve spent far too many seasons on the marriage mart, moon pie!’” Pearl started to quote her father as she rolled over on Scott, now using him like a chaise lounge. “‘You can’t keep rejecting or driving away these perfectly respectable suitors!’ I wish he would stop presenting them to me! Or me to them. I don’t fancy any of them.” “As much as you and I understand that you fancying a man is never going to happen,” Scott remindered, though he understood as much as he could her irritation, “your father nor the ton won’t. I doubt such a concept has even crossed their mind.” “I know, I know.” Pearl sighed exasperatedly. “I still don’t like it though. He’s afraid I will become a spinster, but it honestly doesn’t seem so bad of a fate. Cleo and I could become spinsters together, living together away from this town. Maybe we could have a garden together, living off the land so we have less need for a nobleman’s money. We may be known as disgraces and shame our families, but it seems a better fate than being married off to some man! No offense.”

“None taken.” Scott couldn’t help but chuckle, though there was a tinge of bitterness to his tone. Not at Pearl, of course not, but at the situation they were stuck in. “Pearl, I get it. You already know my views on having to marry a lady one day. In fact, I am unsure how much longer I can push off pursuing one before the pressure of providing an heir– a legitimate blood heir– becomes greater, too much to ignore.” “I wish I were a man sometimes,” Pearl confessed after a beat of silence, dragging her finger against the embroidered designs of her dress. “I would be free of the homemaking and social duties required of a woman.”

“I would switch with you if I could.” Scott jutted out his lower lip in a pout, one that made Pearl roll her eyes affectionately at when she glanced over at him. “I am expected to take on Father’s estate, and manage the behind-the-scenes. It involves a lot of maths, Pearl, and you know I’ve never been good at maths.” Pearl snorted at that truth, covering the lower half of face with her hand. “I would try to comfort you by saying that claim is false, but even I am better at maths than you, and you have had  many more lessons in the subject than I.”

“Uh huh, alright, go on,” Scott rolled his eyes as if in annoyance, but his playful smirk said otherwise, “keep rubbing salt in my oozing, infected wound.”

“Hey, I’m just the messenger.” Pearl raised her arms, as if in surrender. 

“Have you brought anything to heal my wound?” Scott continued with the bit. “Lavender, perhaps? It is furiously screaming, painful and full of puss.” “Ew, gross” Pearl whined, half-heartedly pretending to push him away. “I don’t need to hear about your disgusting fake infection.” “You’re the one who rubbed salt into it!” Scott pointed out.

“And I regret it!” Pearl shot back, a shiver running through her body.

“I sure hope so!” Scott gasped as if offended, pretending to clutch his pearls like some of the older women in the ton did when scandalized.

“Ugh, just take your lavender oil,” Pearl dramatized, handing him an imaginary vial of lavender oil to accelerate his fake-wound’s healing, “and leave me be!”

“See, was that so hard?” Scott took the imaginary vial and poured the air-liquid over his heart.

“I hate you so much, actually,” Pearl claimed, though a smile shone on her lips. “I don’t know why we’re friends.” Scott cheekily quipped back, “I love you too!”

The two burst into a fit of giggles as the scene ended, their own ridiculousness knocking them over the edge. Once their amusement died down, Pearl added on to their previous conversation topic, “If it makes you feel better, I’m sure you could throw a better ball than I could.”

“I have no doubt,” Scott agreed as his eyes hazed over with an almost wistful yearning. “I always loved helping Mother design the themes and plan all the details. It is one of the only times I was allowed to spend so much time with her growing up, instead of with my nanny.” “I wish we could do as we pleased, regardless of what is between our legs,” Pearl huffed, “or, I wish we could switch roles, just the two of us, at least.”

“It would make our current predicament easier, but, alas,” Scott almost ended there, but he continued just to humor his best friend, “no matter how many times Martyn and I lay together, a heir won’t be produced. If it were possible, I could talk my way into the church allowing us to marry.”

A shuttering laugh escaped Pearl’s lungs as she attempted to control herself. “If only that were how it worked.”

Yes. If only. Scott couldn’t help but be disappointed that their hypothetical couldn’t be reality. Not out of any wish to be a woman or be with child himself, but simply because their lives would be easier that way.

The two laid as they were for quite awhile, finding peace in their platonic acts of affections and comfort. Scott was startled, however, when Pearl suddenly shot up with her face lighting up as it did when she got an idea. “Scott, you should court me! We should get married.”

“What?” Scott gaped at her, baffled that she even would suggest such an idea. He had thought they were on the same page when it came to their relationship. “Pearl, you know I love you, but not like-”

“Not a love marriage, silly.” Pearl grabbed his hands, practically vibrating from excitement. It was quite darling, Scott must admit. “But they don’t need to know that! We could say we’ve been courting in secret. No one would doubt us! We see each other enough for it, and you know the servants have caught us cuddling more than once.” “This is true,” Scott hummed, beginning to understand where she was going with the idea. “I’m sure there have been rumors of us courting already, so that would help make our lie believable.” “It would be believable anyway, with or without the servant’s gossip,” Pearl dismissed mildly. “Friendship this strong between a gentleman and a lady without romance sparking is almost unheard of. Plus, it’s what they will want to hear. We would only be confirming what they already believe to be true.” Hesitance tugged at Scott’s mind, but he was coming around. “I’m not saying you’re wrong, but–” “But nothing!” Pearl interrupted, bopping her fingertip against his nose and giggling as Scott went cross eyed. “Scott, you’re overthinking it. Stop being anxious for a moment and trust me: a marriage would solve both of our problems.”

“It would get Mother off my back,” Scott considered thoughtfully.

“There you go!” Pearl cheered, accompanied with the clever little giggle she often got when she believed a plan of hers was working out.  

“And, if we get Martyn and Cleo on board, they could marry each other! Or I could marry Cleo, and you Martyn.” Pieces started to fall into place, a more detailed plan already starting to form in Scott’s mind. “If we are all married, the ton’s attention will move off of us. I don’t believe anyone would bat an eye if we chose to live together as two couples, as long as we have a convincing enough story.” “Exactly.” Pearl nodded enthusiastically, extremely pleased and more relaxed than before. She pointed her finger, bouncing it against his chest several times. “Scott, you need to get a ring made for me, or perhaps for Cleo if Martyn would rather fake-court me, and talk to Martyn and Cleo about our plan. Father would kill me if he knew I went to see her after he explicitly told me not to.”

“Don’t you see Martyn tomorrow?” Scott inquired, recalling an event Pearl informed him of previously. “At the banquet his family invited yours too? Perhaps you could ask him then?” “That’s right!” Pearl’s grin only widened at the recall. “I’ll talk to him then, but you need to talk to Cleo for me. Please? And tell her that I miss her presence dearly.”

“I can slip her a letter,” Scott offered, “if you have more to say.”

Scott was almost dazed by how instantly Pearl detached herself from him. She stumbled out of his hold and off the bad, nearly dashing over to the private writing desk Scott kept in his bedroom. “Of course! I shall note my affections for my love now. You do the same so that I may hand him your words at the banquet.” “We should arrange a time for the four of us to gather,” Scott proposed, “so that we may discuss the plan in full before everything gets started. Courting rules will fall into place once we are officially courting, which would restrict us, in a way, placing more attention on our actions.”

Pearl paused her letter writing, furrowing her brow in though. “We won’t be unable to gather as discreetly as we are now.”

“Exactly.” Scott joined her by the parchment, ink, and quill. “I think we should explain in full once we are together, and alone.”

Pearl turned her attention back toward her letter before promptly tearing out what she had already written. She tore the remaining parchment in half, dipped her quill in the ink once more, and then transcribed a few simple lines onto both halves. Once she finished, she picked up one of them and handed it over to Scott. “Ensure this gets to Cleo, and I’ll make sure Martyn sees this. Does the time work for you?” Scott let his gaze drop to Pearl’s handwriting, promptly reading the invitation. It wasn’t very long, but it had enough impact to make him almost giddy with anticipation. “It’s perfect.”

[deathmetalunicorn1]

I love your stuff! Can I request an Eri Reader (Child) with Yandere Platonic Gods and Humans who was accidentally summoned by Brunhilde when she was trying to summon a healer (But ended up with a tiny child with a horn on the side of her head)

Reader, after developing a deep bond with the fighter that was killed, but but before they went to Niflhel, Reader unknowingly uses her Quirk Rewind and prevented them from dying, which resulted in a lot of Gods trying to get their hands on Reader with greedy and ill intentions to use her ability for their own selfish intentions (Which frankly traumatized her more than anything and would even get scared of Odin’s crows and anyone that reminded her of Overhaul)

How would they react to learning about the horrible abuse and trauma Reader went through, especially with all the scars all over her body from Overhauls experiments (That were under her bandages) and her being isolated to not even know about social norms or even holidays are and her admitting that she doesn’t remember what smiling feels like as well as her believing her existence is a ‘curse’, but she ends up smiling because of the Valkyrie Sisters who showed her a festival and basically adopted Reader as their newest little sibling (Reader has never been more happy, and reveals her childlike innocence and curiosity, which makes everyone’s heart melts as they all want to adopt Reader)

How do you think they’ll feel when Reader admits her favorite food is ‘Apples’ (Would they give her apples or just feel awkward about the Apple Situation that happened with Eve) or would Buddha be the one to give her Carmel/Chocolate Apples?

-One of the first thing Brunnhilde did after gathering her Einherjar, was look for a healer to help those who survived their fights.

-The technology in Valhalla was advanced, and the Valkyries would be able to handle wounds for either side, but they needed a healer to help with the more fatal wounds.

-With all fighters in attendance, gods and humans both, Brunnhilde summoned her healer, looking for the strongest one she could find.

-They were not expecting to see a little girl, arms covered in scars that weren’t hidden by bandages, dirty, malnourished, and instantly in tears, terrified about where you were, ratty, tangled hair, and a horn on the side of her forehead.

-You cowered as Brunnhilde approached, keeping your eyes locked on her, scared that she was going to hurt you, but she immediately pulled you into her arms, hugging you close, turning to give orders to her sisters, to prepare the infirmary.

-Your wounds were treated with such gentleness that it actually scared you, scared that they would be like Overhaul and treat you nicely for a short while, then turn on you.

-Once you were finally treated, the nurses let you be and you heard many voices outside the door, talking about you, many demanding to know what happened to you.

-You were only six, but you were so small, so weak, and so terrified of everything around you.

-When Brunnhilde entered, being the only one to do so, as she didn’t want to frighten you more, you gave her a scare as you weren’t on your bed, but she calmed, finding you wrapped up in your blanket, holding it above your head like a cloak, huddled into the corner.

-She approached so you could see her, hearing your soft sniffles and she kneeled down, giving you your space, “May I ask your name? My name is Brunnhilde.”

-Her name was quite long and unusual for you, having not heard anything like it before. You swallowed and your voice, soft and meek, spoke up, “Y/N.”

-She nodded softly, “Y/N, you may not believe me, but you are safe here.”

-You didn’t believe her but she didn’t scold you or even raise her voice at you, just giving you a small nod, “I’ll send Goll in with some food for you. Is there food that you like?” you didn’t answer her, curling up in your blanket and she stood, leaving you alone again.

-The fury that was surrounding her when she walked out intimidating many of the gods, furious at the shape that you were in before she spoke, giving her orders, “None but Goll can enter at the moment. Goll, you’re the closest in age to her, so she may trust you a bit more. Take her some food and sit with her but give her space. Lord Odin, I require your help in finding out where she came from.”

-Odin nodded, glaring darkly, many of the others offering their own help, to figure out where you came from and why you were in the shape you were in.

-Goll was very patient with you, bringing you some bread rolls, juice, and some strawberries, something simple and light.

-She put the tray down in front of you, “Here Y/N, I brought you some food! Big Sis Brunnhilde asked me to talk to you!”

-You peeked out, seeing she was a younger teenager, and you carefully crawled forward, keeping your eyes on her, making sure she wasn’t going to move, before you grabbed a bread roll, sitting back and devoured it, like you hadn’t eaten in days.

-Goll panicked, seeing you double fisting the bread, “Whoa there, Y/N! Slow down or you’re going to choke!” you glanced up at her but you couldn’t help it, you’ve never had bread so tasty and soft before.

-The next several days were rough, you were very skittish, only willing to talk to a few people, Goll, Brunnhilde, Eve, Buddha, and Loki for some reason, but your answers were always short, scared.

-You had been treated with nothing but gentle care, even when Eve brushed out your tangled hair, she did it as gently as she could, “You’re so pretty Y/N!”

-Her compliments were something you weren’t used to, it’s not that you didn’t like them, because you did, but they made you confused and uneasy, as you had never dealt with them before, something Eve relayed to Adam, who was furious, as were many of the other humans and gods, hearing more about the way you had been treated.

-You woke up from a nightmare, gasping and crying, clutching your blanket tightly, alone in the infirmary.

-You held your blanket tightly around you as you approached the door, wanting one of the people who had been so nice to you.

-You opened the door, seeing nobody around and you tiptoed out, peeking around corners to find someone you knew, your hands beginning to shake as you sniffled softly.

-Someone saw you down the hall and he approached slowly, not wanting to scare you before he spoke, “Y/N?”

-You turned, hearing your name and you looked up, seeing what seemed to be the tallest man you had ever seen, with a long beard, wearing a full robe.

-You instantly flinched back, your eyes going pale as you saw the two crows on his shoulders, who were looking down at you curiously, shocking you even more when they spoke, asking if you were all right.

-Odin saw that you looked terrified, but you weren’t looking at him, you were looking at Muninn and Huginn. He was quick to wave them off and they took to the air, flying off his shoulders to land nearby.

-Odin’s assumption had been correct, as your eyes were locked on the crows until they landed, looking like normal birds.

-You had fallen to your rear when the crows took flight, uninjured, but shaking. Odin was easily able to assume that something to do with crows, maybe not the animal, but the image of crows, held some significance in your condition, as he and Brunnhilde haven’t been able to find anything about where you came from.

-He kneeled down, to appear less threatening, but being close to him now, tears easily welled in your eyes, seeing his eye patch, his stoic face, he looked so scary.

-Odin could easily see your fear, he didn’t want you to be afraid of him, holding out his hands, trying to show you he wasn’t a threat.

-Your heart was in your ears as more tears fell as Odin reached out to you, as you weren’t responding to any of his questions, inquiring if you were okay. He was going to pick you up and take you back to the infirmary, but all you saw was this scary-looking man’s hands coming towards you.

-You instantly bolted, surprising him with how fast you were, holding your blanket tightly as your mind was just screaming at you to run and hide. You had to get away from him.

-Odin was quick to alert the others who knew about you, keeping your existence hush-hush from everyone other than the fighters, the Valkyries, and a few other gods, like Ares, Hermes, and Aphrodite.

-You saw another man in the distance and for some reason you didn’t feel afraid of this man, who turned, hearing your footsteps, seeing you running with Odin chasing after you, concern on his face.

-Lu Bu instantly kneeled and was surprised when you instantly leapt into his arms, your arms around his neck as far as they would go, your blanket falling to the ground.

-Lu Bu’s hands were very warm as they hugged you carefully, feeling your shaking body, you reeked of fear as you were quick to break down in harsh sobs, clutching tightly at him.

-Odin made it to you both, picking up the blanket as Lu Bu stood, holding you carefully as you trembled from your tears, terrified of Odin, thinking he was like Overhaul as he had those birds with him.

-Odin wasn’t hurt by your lack of trust, as you were a scared child, he wasn’t going to hold that against you, if anything he felt a rage burning inside of him, furious that one so small had been treated in such a way.

-Lu Bu became the only one that you could talk freely to besides Goll, after you became scared of the others again, something Odin regrets.

-Lu Bu was thrown off by your trust in him, he knew he didn’t look like the nicest guy, with his tattoos, scars, pointy teeth, and intimidating disposition, but having that one person that you could trust did start helping you open up.

-With Lu Bu by your side, either by you standing next to him, so you could hide behind his legs, or safely in his arms, you began to open up a bit more with both humans and gods.

-Buddha was quick to get back in your good graces, as was Loki, the two of them giving you all sorts of treats and candy which made your eyes sparkly brightly.

-Zeus doted on you, treating you so gently, and he felt like such an asshole when he asked you what your favorite food was and you looked up at him, “Apples in the shape of bunnies!” the room went silent, a few glances going to Adam and Eve, tension filling the air until Odin gave you what you asked for, making your eyes sparkle as you thanked him, not seeing him as someone so scary anymore.

-None of them were like Overhaul!

-When you were sitting with everyone, who were now beginning to regret this tournament, as they were all coming together as the family you’ve always wanted, Raiden was beaming brightly at you, seeing you stuff your cheeks with rice balls, “Y/N~ can we see a smile?”

-You were in Kojiro’s lap, looking up at him with confusion on your face before you spoke, once your mouth was empty, “Is that the thing you’re doing with your mouth right now?”

-Your words stunned them, smiles falling as your held your cheeks, smooshing your cheeks together.

-Adam kneeled down next to you, giving you a very small smile, “Take your time with this. nobody’s gonna rush you.” You nodded before you turned, holding up a rice ball to Kojiro who smiled warmly, bending over and eat it whole, making a few of the others laugh as you blinked up at him in awe.

-When Ragnarok started, you were nervous, having been told what it was all about, not realizing that many of the members of your new, massive family, were now against it, as that would make you sad.

-You sat in the stands with the other competitors, sitting together in one massive viewing room, so you could watch Thor and Lu Bu face off.

-Your eyes were sparkly when you saw Red Hare, wanting to see the horsey up close.

-Brunnhilde as well as several of the others were concerned with you watching the fights, worried for your mental health, seeing two of your family members, including your favorite, fighting against one another.

-Hercules was hugging you as you sobbed, your arms reaching out for the stadium, “LU BU! NO! DON’T GO!!!” he was vanishing, having been defeated by Thor, who looked ashamed as he was the one who made you cry.

-Your eyes clenched together tightly, and your horn seemed to flare with energy as your quirk activated, “LU BU!!”

-An almost blinding light surrounded you, stunning everyone in attendance just as Lu Bu vanished, the light filling the whole stadium, many of those around you had to shield their eyes.

-In stunned awe, Lu Bu began to reform, piece by piece until he returned, a soft gasp leaving him as he looked down at his hands before he turned to you, seeing the light vanishing as your horn returned to normal and you slumped in Hercules�� arms, unconscious.

-The whole stadium was instantly in an uproar, seeing that you had done, rewinding time, bringing Lu Bu back to life.

-Zeus and Odin were quick to stand in front of Hercules as many gods were shouting, demanding that you be handed over to them.

-Brunnhilde and Thrud ran interference for Hercules as he took you to the infirmary, the tournament now called off as the members of your family had to basically guard the infirmary themselves from the gods who wanted to steal you away for their own selfish means.

-It was three whole days before you finally woke up, feeling a bit dizzy, but hungrier than anything.

-You found yourself once again in the infirmary, as you had been given your own bedroom in the Norse Pantheon, you couldn’t recall how you had gotten here before you remembered Lu Bu and you gasped, whispering out his name as you crawled off the bed and ran for the door.

-The hallway was empty, but it didn’t deter you as you ran for the main hallway, hoping to see someone you knew, but without any luck, seeing that it was also empty.

-You bit your bottom lip lightly, trying to not get discouraged as you started to run, searching for one of your family members, one of the people that you’ve grown to trust, those who keep you safe.

-Unfortunately, you ran into a group of gods who looked like they were sneaking around, and you took a step back, not knowing them as one of the men beamed, “She came to us! Come with us little one, we need your help!”

-Your eyes widened as you remembered those words, ‘we need your help’ from Overhaul, that usually meant they were going to hurt you, they were going to make you use your quirk.

-You quickly turned and ran, your breath coming in short as you were borderline panic attack, tears nearly blinding you as you heard them shouting after you, chasing you, demanding that you stop running.

-You gasped as you slipped while rounding a corner, falling hard, hitting your head, dazing you long enough to grab you, hauling you up the front of your dress.

-You felt blood dripping down your face, mixing with your tears as you tried to scream for help, your voice was stuck.

-“GET AWAY FROM HER!!!” the booming voice seemed to shake everything around and the gods who were holding you tried to run with you, only to be met with a wall on the other side, a wall of pissed off gods and humans.

-You managed to open your eyes, seeing that Zeus had been the one to shout first. Something hit the man who was holding you and instantly you were in Jack’s arms as he leapt back, clutching you tightly to his body, furious to see the color of fear on you.

-You were sobbing, arms wrapped around his neck, you knew you were safe now, but you had been so scared as Brunnhilde told him to get you to the infirmary, as they had all seen you bleeding.

-After Jack patched you up himself, getting you to calm down, helping you wash your face, he smiled gently down at you after he kneeled, “There’s something you need to see, Y/N.”

-You were confused but nodded, allowing him to pick you up and he brought you into the main hall, where you saw everyone waiting for you, relief on their faces as they saw you were okay.

-Jack sat you down and you looked up at him, a bit confused before he pointed and you followed the direction of his finger and you froze, your eyes going wide as you saw Lu Bu standing there, standing next to Thor who was smiling softly.

-You could only mouth his name, unable to vocalize it as more tears welled in your eyes, taking a small step towards him, then another before you ran to him, “Lu Bu!!”

-The man in question kneeled, a smile on his face as many were smiling, Ares and Aphrodite both crying at the scene.

-Everyone then froze, turning white as you tripped, face planting, hands out in front of you and in unison everyone screamed out your name in worry.

-Once you were in Lu Bu’s arms, holding your nose, pouting lightly, “I’m not crying!” which made Loki and Hermes laugh lightly as they were the ones checking on your nose.

-Once they deemed you fine, you turned to face Lu Bu, reaching up to cup his face and he lowered his head, so you could touch him, “You’re really okay…”

-The smile that spread across your lips, a bright, true smile, had many of them collapsing to their knees, holding their chest from cuteness while Ares was bawling loudly, hugging Hercules who was patting his friends’ back lightly.

-Lu Bu couldn’t help but give you a rare soft smile as you hugged his face, now crying happy tears for the first time in your life.

[arcane-ish]

Arcane season 2 - Act 2 Review

through most of the act my feeling was that the pacing was off.

I just hate all the spacy, trippy stuff and it really ruins my enjoyment of the episodes.

Not really enjoying design for Warwick much, I want my fluffy furry Warwick. I also think the spooky horror stuff could be way spookier and more effective.

Ambessa isn't bad but she just isn't that interesting and effective. I think she just doesn't do enough interesting evil stuff compared to Silco.

However, enough meaningful emotional stuff happened in episode 6 to tide over a lot.

I don't buy that Warwick is dead. His whole point is that he has healing factor.

Caitlyn and Vi work really well together. After act 1 I was thinking about posting how the main thing that is missing for me between Vi and Caitlyn as a couple (at least compared to their League counterparts) is a sense of fun and raport. They got that back in episode 6.

Vi versus Ambessa was really fun.

I'm sorry Jayce and Viktor fans, I just like Jayce too little to be at all invested in this storyline. Good for Skye getting screentime I guess. Seriously, I would have gladly deleted that entire storyline fro the show. Just have Jayce, Viktor and Mel survive the explosion and then go off on a spa vaaction all season (sorry Mel fans). I would have gladly swapped all of that for Ekko and Heimer screentime.

Vikto and Singed got the most meaningful discussion on opposing philosophies.

It amuses me that they gave Caitlyn a dedicated training montage with Ambessa just to explain how Caitlyn could hold her own against Vi even though she's generally ranged.

I like Zaun going collectively "I am Spartacus" over Jinx.

I think Isha impersonating Jinx and doing an attack thing is kind of stupid. She is cute enough that she doesn't feel too excessively like a self insert and the way Jinx and Sevika react to her is gold. However, she still feels super contrived.

I'm kind of surprised by the relative friendliness of Singed vis a vis Vander and I was almost relieved when they went to him wanting to sacrifice Vander again in the Viktor camp. Ah, that's my unscupulous evil scientist, just the way I like him.

The Mylo and Claggor ereasure is really sad and I'm not even one of the people who particularly cares about them.

So... Vander and Silco flashbacks. One of the main things I wanted out of season 2. Am I satisfied.

1.) I'm glad that despite what is being said it didn't feel like a cheesy love triangle to me (my nightmare was that they would do Vander x Grayson).

2.) That said, my best case scenario, my biggest wish was actually for the fallout between Vander and Silco to actually be about politics and for us to get to actually let them voice their politics disagreements in an argument. (again more like the discussion between Singed and Viktor).

I like that it didn't violate my headcanons of them too much, however it didn't trigger my meaty thinky thoughts particularly about the political stuff either.

The thing that triggers my brain the most is actually their secret hideout, and it's about half !!!!!!!(/)§/$IHIUAHSIU!!!????"!! and half I'm not sure this makes sense.

How is that thing still preserved so pristinely? How come Silco never went there? I have to many questions!!!! And escaped Warwick went to that place and scratched on the door :( :( :( :(

I feel like I want to point out that Vander thought of Silco even before thinking of the girls (right after the monkey that was their undoing).

I wish we would have gotten to see the number on Silco's miner's badge just to see if his number is right after Vander's number to indicate that they joined at the same time if they are apart.

Can we get Ekko to do that particular time rewind that Jinx is talking about?

[cal-a-bungaa]

The Realm

The Realm Part 7 - Prince!Jake Kiszka

Synopsis: In the heat of danger, love will always conquer

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: Mentions of death and war, sexual acts and language, descriptions of child birth, swearing and violence. Fluff.

Enjoy (please don't throw things at me) and thank you to the amazing @capturethechaos for reading it over and to @writingcold for your wonderful commentary and help planning this series!!

__________

Jake POV

Jake had stepped foot in this room only once before, the night he agreed to become a married man. It was different from Josh’s- his war room. The walls here were decorated in different weapons that had been favored by the late king, no intricately stitched curtains hanging from the windows. It was bleak, cold and the sense of dread flooded his senses for what’s to come. He could tell how uncomfortable she was being in here; the way she stiffened after seeing the collected layer of dust across the table, dragging the tips of her fingers through it. Whether she liked it or not, she’d best get used to it- they’ll both be in here quite a lot until the enemy is defeated. 

The sunsets rose hues beamed through the arched windows, dusting over her soft skin. Even as Jake stares at her in awe, he cannot help but think of the knife that dangles above her head in the shape of a crown. He even thinks of his brother- how Josh loved the color pink, always opting to sniff the coral tinted roses in his private garden. He’d always sneak them into Jake’s chambers though he was adamant of his distaste towards the sweet scented flowers. Now Jake looks back and wishes that he could rewind and have those damn flowers on his nightstand to fall asleep next to. Or even some to give to the woman before him. The rose bushes his brother hid from the groundskeeper have probably all wilted away by now, no longer having the proper care that they need. 

She was silent by the window, taking in the rolling hills and tall mountains in the distance. The sky's color enhanced the lighter streaks in her hair and the color of her lips. He needed to keep her safe like he wished to with Josh, but now he is sure he will even if it costs him his own life. He would rather a sword pierce his heart than have it shatter all over again. Jake would rather cough up his own blood than to have his hands covered in others that he loves. He leans his hip into the hardwood, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“You’re scared.” Jake says, taking in her figure. Her stiff shoulders, and the way her teeth chew into her bottom lip are dead giveaways of her fear. 

He sees the way she immediately tries to fix her posture. “I am not.” Jake rolls his eyes. 

Jake doesn’t say anything else, opting to approach her from behind. He sees her reflection in the glass, eyes so unsure of what’s to come and what will happen to either of them. It’s clear to him that she doesn’t want him to die, but she’s not ready to die herself. His fingertips run down the expanse of her arm, sending shivers down her spine at the contact. 

“I am a feather disguised as steel…” Jake furrows his brows, confused on why she switched so suddenly. The queen before him has curled back in on herself to be the quiet princess she once was. 

Jake takes hold of her wrist, spinning her towards him. She refuses to meet his eyes, succumbing to the thought that she is weak. He reaches out to slowly lift her chin. “You are steel, not even I can break through,” She shakes her head in disagreement, “Don’t do that. Do not doubt yourself. You are strong if you will yourself to be.”

She shakes his grip off, fuming at his words. “I am sick to death of hearing how strong I am.” The queen before him was fuming and he did not know how to calm her. He believed her to be strong regardless of what he had said in their heated moments. She was nothing close to being a feather. 

If she wished to be a feather then so be it- Jake would take it upon himself to be the steel, but she can be her own if she only believed it so. He couldn’t do anything besides nod and remain silent, not wanting to push the topic. She turns back towards the window, promptly ignoring his remaining presence. The rose sky had darked to a purple, letting the stars shine through and the only light to illuminate the room being the flickering flames of melting candles. He wanted to assure her that she had that strength and bravery hidden within herself, she showed that side to him hours ago. Circling him with his own sword was strength in itself, it was a wonder to him how she could believe such a thing. Jake had placed both palms on the smooth wooden surface of the war table, letting his eyes fall over the map laid out. In the east corner of the map, a strange marking presented itself. Looking closer at it, the name of the landmark had been scratched out with ink. Possibly a fallen kingdom, abandoned fort or village, Jake is not sure. The map that Josh had laid out for the attack on Weria showed no such thing. 

A knock rang through the ever so silent room, her council seconds later piling into the dreary room. It felt as if he was reliving the past. Except for the fact that his brother was not beside him and won’t be again. She’d stepped forward, taking her spot next to Jake. All eyes rested upon her with questions, doubt, and impatience. It angered the king by just their stares, if anyone dared speak a belittling word towards her, they’d be dead on the cold floor instantly. 

She took another step forward, placing her palms on the table as well. “As you all have heard, there is a threat out there that wishes death upon the king and I,” She speaks unwavering. Her pinky stretches out, ever so lightly brushing against his own. “We must put an end to this newfound enemy before more damage to the realm can be done.” 

Jake takes it upon himself to shift his hand closer to hers, pinkies now linked together for everyone to see. He coughs before speaking up, “I will be on the frontlines as that is what I know, I will fight to keep us safe.” he glances over to his queen, seeing a twitch in the corner of her mouth. 

“Your majesties, if I may,” the councilman pauses, “how are we to know where this enemy lies? If we do not know, we cannot plan.”

Jake can tell a condescending tone as if he could see it, he’d grown up around it being a spare but for them to talk to her as such was not something he’d tolerate. “Send units out to scour the woods, search every abandoned building. We could even send parties to this area.” Jake points to the scribbled out lettering. 

All eyes slightly widen at his suggestion. Panic and tension in the room quickly rises when she peels her hand from his. Jake quirks an eyebrow at her, confused on everything that is currently happening. 

“Sir Jake, with all respect, we do not enter that area. It is a place of death and ruin.”

Her touch reappears on the small of his back. He can finally feel her touch through the thin linen drawstring shirt he changed to. Jake wants to return subtle touches, but is too far invested in why that particular area makes everyone spiral into a panic. 

“And with all respect, that is our best option. There must be a reason as to why and how the enemy travels so silently to Weria.” Jake snaps back with a condescending tone of his own. If the councilman could without having his head removed or being thrown in the dungeons, he'd probably laugh at a spare and a queen directing them through a war. 

For a moment Jake thinks he has defeated the council in their fight to reject that idea. “You do not know the land like we do, do not speak as if you do.”

Jake feels her nails sink into the skin of his back, a sign of her irritation. He has to swallow a groan at the pain, but also the shooting ropes of pleasure that travel to his cock. 

“Councilman, you will not speak to your king as such. Mind your mouth.” your king. That has Jake acting out of reflex, reaching around her to place his hand on the small of back, dipping his hand a little too low in a room full of people. 

Looking over at her, he finds her already searching for his eyes. There’s a daring look swirling within them, hypnotizing Jake into pushing it further. At her silent command, his hand slides down the curve of her ass, gripping it tightly- surely enough to leave little bruises. She was his queen even if in this lifetime they were not to be wed. He wanted to feel more of her- more of her touch, for her to feel more of his and to hear the angelic sounds she’d let out beneath him. 

The councilmen all continued on about how that area was off limits and no one should dare enter unless they had a death wish. Jake could see the annoyance on her face, matching his own. “We will send men there and that is final. You best trust your king's word, next time will not be excused.” She threatens. 

With a wave of her hand, they bow their heads and leave. Not a single one of them agreed, but didn’t argue after their queen spoke against them. Jake squeezes the flesh of her ass once more before removing his hand from her all together. He takes steps away from her, examining her as she stands agitated before him because of this war and because he neglects her of what she wants. 

She stares him down, no longer wanting to be the first to make such a daring move. She wanted him to show her how he needed her to want him. But Jake wasn’t going to give it to her so easily.

“Let me show you to your chambers, my queen.” he shoots her a sly grin, lending out his hand for her to take. 

The queen squints her eyes, huffing out a breath. “I think I’ll stay here awhile, thank you.” Jake’s grin grows hearing how disheartened she is at what she takes is his rejection of her.

“Would you rather me ravish you here?” He cocks his head at her. 

A blush spread across her cheeks. Even after clearing her throat, her voice still cracks, “Perhaps I would.”

Jake steps towards her, not yet wanting to be too close to her as he’d give in to his desires. He wanted to make it last- wanted to look at her- to see all of those gorgeous expressions she’ll make when he does touch her. 

“Then tell me what you’d like for me to do.”

She wets her lips, “Love me.”

Jake couldn’t stop himself if he wanted to. In quick strides he wrapped himself around her, letting his heart lead him to the one thing it now called home. His hands encased her cheeks, pushing his lips to hers. Her hands tangle themselves in the fabric of his loose shirt that hides little to the imagination. Jake’s tongue swipes against her bottom lip, wanting to taste more of her. She quickly responds, taking a taste for herself too. Both of them devour each other, taking in everything the other has to give- an outpour of their love. 

“Jake… please.” she whispers against his lips, slick with her saliva. 

He parts from her, seeing the desperation and need in her eyes. He travels on hand from her face to rest on her waist. “You are a queen, do not beg, my love.”

She takes that in, letting it sink in her mind that she has the power over him body and soul. She fully parts from him, lifting herself onto the surface of the table. Jake watches her in awe, seeing how disheveled she is by just sharing a kiss. She no longer simply wants him, she needs him.  His queen teases him, spreading her legs and ever so slowly lifting the hem of her dress to reveal her perfect legs. A few bruises paint her skin, he is sure from the night she spoke about when the cut on her neck was made. 

Jake wishes she would hurry and reveal herself to him, but he appreciates getting to view every little part there is to her. Once she pulls the dress to her thighs, the king sinks to his knees- a forbidden act upon royals. No man or woman that dons a crown may sink to their knees before anyone- not even another royal. Jake would break that absurd law as many times as she would let him. 

His palms smooth over the expanse of her legs, from her calves to her plush thighs. Their final destination are her knees, slightly pushing them apart for him to fit between them. Jake stares into her lustful eyes, giving the inside of her knee a kiss, letting his tongue peak out to wet her skin. He can see the rise and fall of her chest- the way she is trying to not fall apart at the simplest of things. 

Jake rests his head on her thigh, letting himself appreciate the woman that towered over him. “If only you could see what I see- you are so beautiful.”

“I’m quite happy with my view.” She flashes him that smile that he hasn’t seen in far too long. A genuine smile, one that radiates light like his brothers. 

The king lets himself smile back at her, rising back to his feet. Jake feels his desires running wild, needing to calm them down by backing away from what’s tempting him most. Meeting at eye level again, he leans his forehead into hers. His breathing is uneven as is hers. Jake’s eyes close and lifts his head to press a feathery light kiss to the crown of her head. 

“I will not take what is yours from you just yet.”

With that, Jake separates himself from her completely. He watches the way she becomes aware of what he’s said and the shyness he knew hadn’t left her return. She awkwardly shuffles around, fixing herself to look presentable. Dare he say it was quite adorable watching her frantically fix her dress and hair to make it look like treasonous acts hadn’t just taken place in here. New wrinkles had formed in the fabric of her gown and strands of her hair poked out in odd directions. 

“In time, love. I simply wish to give you all of my love before my cock.” The queen's eyes widened in horror at his vulgarity. Her face turned beet red in embarrassment. Jake chuckled.

“Jacob! You mustn't speak like that!” She whisper-yells at him as if anyone was truly listening in on their conversation. 

He releases a belly laugh at her reaction, she truly was so pure. It was as if she wasn’t just hiking up her skirts to reveal herself to him, begging for him to ravish her right on that table. There was still so much to learn about her and he was excited to take this ride with her. 

Jake coughs, letting himself calm down from his fit of laughter. “Let me take you to your chambers.”

She doesn’t respond, still embarrassed. The beautiful girl turns her back and makes her way to the doors that lead to the darkened hallway lined with guards.

_____

You wanted him to take what was yours. The real battle was coming soon and if Jake was to be on the front lines, who knew if he’d make it back to you. You’re scared that you will live the rest of your life without knowing him. You’re more than aware that there is much to make up for before that point, but the way you were testing each other in the war room had you worked up in a way you’d never felt before meeting Jake.

His footsteps echoed your own, but you were far too sheepish to look back at him. You wanted his hand in yours, but without having to ask him brought on a new problem. Jake was watching you, you could feel his eyes burning holes through your dress as you walked. His stare reignited that fire within your core without having to turn back. Just his presence alone was a safety net, one you could fall into and be swallowed whole. You were sure Jake could see the way you clench your fists, bunching up the ruined fabric of your dress. His sole being is enough to have your knees shaking and heart drumming against your chest- he doesn’t have to say a word or lay a single finger upon your skin. 

Guards follow five steps behind Jake, ensuring your safety and his. The amount of guards with you at all times has now been upped by the demand of the king himself, putting his men to work at protecting you. It is not long before the door of your chambers comes into your line of sight. What lurked behind the doors still had you petrified- unable to step one foot in without wanting to search every crevice of the room. Rats lay low, they stay hidden away from the naked eye. You did not want them to reappear and this time have a fatal victory. 

You hesitate to grab the handle to open the doors, not wanting to see what waits for you inside. Slowly you turn your head back to look at Jake who seems more or less unbothered, unaware of your uneasiness. But his actions tell you otherwise, his simple nod for you to open the doors is reassuring. You knew with him around, nothing would harm you. 

The dark room was coated with a sweet scent of roses, the one you found so comforting once upon a time. The moon's light shines ever so brightly through the windows. Your box of memories remains open on the floor, its contents scattered around it. If Jake were to see you’ve kept such ridiculous items, he’d laugh and taunt you for ages. But in the moment you could care less, you needed him with you more than ever. 

You shook your head back at him, speaking to him in silence that you could not enter. “Please stay for the night.” you whisper. 

The corners of his lips turn upwards. “And what would the councilmen think of you inviting me into your chambers?” Jake jests. You knew it was him poking fun, trying to lighten your heavy heart but you simply needed him to watch over you in the night. 

“Jake, I’m not strong- I’m afraid.”

His warmth washes over you, allowing some of your unease to dissipate. “I will not let you be harmed,” His tone has softened greatly. Jake’s hand finds its place on the small of your back, gently ushering you into the room. “I will stay.”

You knew of the rumors that would spread from this, but that is beyond you. As long as you could safely sleep beside the one you wanted most, you’d deal with anything thrown at the two of you. Jake guides you into the darkened room, making haste to shut the door behind him and lighting the candles on your bedside table. 

There’s be many times in the past that you have shared a bed with Jake, but tonight felt different. The two of you have been through so much that it almost felt wrong at this time to even consider reliving these moments. You watched him pace around the room, finding the different sources of light so the dark could not cause any more damage to your mind. It felt so domestic to have him this way. It felt too real- too soon and too calm. 

As Jake goes to light the last candle on its stand, he looks back over his shoulder at you. “You’ll be uncomfortable sleeping in that.” He looks you up and down. 

For the umpteenth time that night a blush rises to your cheeks. He was right of course, but to change before him when he has never seen your body was another challenge that you thought you were ready to face. Bravery was not something you held within you, it was a mere act for people to not look down upon your ruling. Jake didn’t bother turning back to the melted candle, keeping his focus on you. 

“Look away then.” and he does as you wish. 

You reach behind you to untie the corset that secured the dress to your body. Unable to reach the ribbon that lies between your shoulder blades. You huff in annoyance, succumbing to the fact that you will need help to be released from the imprisonment you forced yourself into. 

“Help, please…” you say in a hushed tone. 

It’s as if he were waiting for you to ask for his assistance, whipping around to grab the ribbon and pull it from its knot slowly. His fingertips brush against the skin of your back with each loosening of each crossover. What felt like forever was just a few seconds, he quickly but smoothly made work of the corset. When it was fully undone, the sleeves of your dress dropped, revealing your bare shoulders to him and the crisp night air. 

Before leaving you to strip bare and change, Jake plants a wet kiss on each of your shoulders. Your heart felt like it was going to burst through your chest at his affections. Though he was in your room with you was familiar, there was a shift in the air- something more heartfelt and heavy. Once you feel his gaze leave you, you drop your dress to pool at your feet on the bear skin rug. You step out of the melted fabric and out of the painful heels you donned all day. Your nightgown rested on the back of your desk chair. You slipped it over quickly, afraid of what would happen if Jake were to see you in such a scandalous state- not that he hadn’t earlier, but now would be the time something more was going to happen if it were. 

The small mirror on your desk showed your reflection in it, the way you wore such a remarkable staple on your head while being in a place that you could not hold onto it too tightly without cutting through your palms. You watch it be removed from your body to rest on the grainy old wood, not the best place for it to go but it wasn’t very precious to you. You see the way your styled locks roll down to their rightful place. Being like this made you feel normaal, like a kingdom didn’t lay its lives upon you. You’d wondered if Jake felt the same being in the same position or if it had truly sunk in for him yet. 

“Quit judging yourself, you’re beautiful,” Jake’s voice startles you, having forgotten he was even in the same room. “Come to bed.”

What you would give to hear those words for the remainder of your days was above you. He made it sound like heaven to lay beside him every night and fall asleep to the sound of his steady breathing. On a normal night you’d let the handmaids brush through your hair and scrub you down, but tonight you couldn’t be bothered to look perfect. You wanted him to see you and only you. The real you. 

The way he laid so contently in your bed gave you hope in how this could be your view for eternity. His arms were crossed behind his head, one leg propped up on the other. He looked gorgeous. It’s one of the few times you’ve seen him fully relaxed. His gaze follows you as you approach the opposite side of the bed. You go to lift the layers of blankets only to be beaten to it, Jake peels them back for you. Slithering into bed, he shifts to his side, hand holding his head up and the other reaching to smooth your wild hair. 

No other words are said that night, you can see his lips moving but cannot make out what he’s saying. Your eyes grow heavy and eventually everything around you fades to black. 

_____

You stand in the long hallway of your home, the one that leads to your mother and fathers chambers. Loud painful cries erupt from behind the closed doors. You can see the uneasiness in the guards standing watch and in the castle staff that are gathered outside the room. In the distance, you can recognise the voices from inside the room- you mother and your father, speaking to one another. One was panicked and the other calming and reassuring. Groans of pain come from one of them. 

In a state of panic you race towards the room, shoving those who block your path out of your way. You go to push the doors open only to find you fall right through them. On your hands and knees, you look up to see a terrifying scene. Your mother laid on the grand bed, face as a white as a ghost in a pool of blood with sweat shining on her forehead. Your father held one of her hands in both of his to his mouth, his eyes told you that he was scared. 

Doctors and nurses stood at the foot of the bed between your mothers legs, giving her signs of when she should start again. To your horror, your mothers screams come again but louder now that you have a  front row seat to this gruesome scene. Her body lifts from the pile of pillows that held her weight, squeezing the life from your fathers hand. 

Eventually it all went silent for a moment. A moment of fear washed over all of their faces. The doctor held something you could not see. Your mother had started to cry, tears rolling down her cheeks as she buried her face in your fathers chest. Even his eyes turned red, fearing the worst. But then a shrill cry filled the silent room. 

“It’s a boy your majesties!”

A commotion happens and you see that eventually your mother takes hold of the babe, cradling him in her arms. She looked at him with such adoration. She used to look at you that same way. 

“Well, hello there Prince Daniel.” The first born son of Weria and the first of his name.

__________

Taglist: @allieisacrybaby @writingcold @gardensgatedaisy @hayley1623 @gretasmokerising @josh-iamyour-mama @ageofsinners @capturethechaos @takenbythemadness @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @mysticaldonutglitter @lvnterninthenight

[skyward-floored]

I wanted to ask what the Zeldas powers are in IAU? Maybe there's a list I missed, but because they don't tend to feature as heavily as the boys, I haven't been able to keep them straight in my head lol

I think I made a list a while ago but I have nooooo clue where it went XD And I don’t blame you lol, I seriously need to write more with them. I have a bunch of ideas that feature Zeldas, I just keep getting ones with the boys too and those tend to be what I end up working on 😔 But anyway, messy list!

Sun (Sky’s Zelda): her powers are a little weird, but basically she can use music (via either instrument or her voice) and cause different effects/attacks. sort of like Sheik’s attacks in hw.

Artemis (Warriors’s Zelda): intangibility, the power to go through any solid object and make herself completely untouchable. She can also make other things intangible, but it takes as much energy as it would to pick up that item (so a purse or something? Easy. A person? Harder, but still doable. A building? ...nope.)

Lullaby (Time’s Zelda): she’s powerless, but don’t underestimate her, you’ll regret it.

Dot (Four’s Zelda): she can shrink all tiny, down to the size of a mouse :)

Dawn & Aurora (Hyrule’s Zeldas): they both give off the vibe of being powerless to me, Dawn especially, but I wouldn’t be adverse to maybe giving one of them something. Probably Aurora between the two.

Dusk (Twilight’s Zelda): I’m thinking she’s powerless— that or she has a fairly understated power. Especially since in canon while she’s willing to fight, her whole thing was sort of the fact that she chose not to in order to save her people. Idk.

Fable (Legend’s Zelda): ...I’m admittedly unsure of. I was thinking of having her be like that Voyd girl in the second movie, but I don’t know if it makes sense for her to have a portal-y power or not. Would something more like Zelda’s smash bros attacks be better? Light powers? Something entirely different?? I dunno. She still needs work.

Tetra (Wind’s Zelda): I’m thinking she’s powerless, but her fighting skills are on point. And later she gets a gun.

Flora (Wild’s Zelda): I’m sliiiightly holding off on, but I kind of have two options for her? The first is making her powerless, but be fascinated by powers, and geek out over supers and get all knowledgeable about their powers. The other option is maybe powers sorta like the rewind function in totk, since she seems to have some kind of connection there. But again, idk...

[pavo-ocxllus]

« rewind. / pause. / fast forward. »

the illustrious fontaine legal firm was a workplace that every student would love to work under once they graduate from the hell that was law school.

whenever a high-profile case hits the media, chances were that the an attorney from that agency would appear not even a day later, solving it with ease. (and not to mention, the salary was a little bit more than just mouthwatering.)

you were (naturally) elated once you received news that you earned a job there starting the moment you walked through the glass doors ahead of you. your heart was beating in anticipation as your lips were tucked into a seemingly permanent smile. it wasn't even after you set your hand on the door when questions started pouring in—what were your co-workers going to be like? are they obnoxiously snobby regarding the prestige they held with their profession? perhaps they were more humble about their accomplishments? (even though they literally took down a fatui head not even a week earlier.)

unfortunately, your questions remained unanswered once you were met with a sudden chair nearing your face.

"watch it!"

you weren't even able to close your eyes to brace for impact with how quickly everything was moving. one moment, the chair that was about to give you a a career-ending concussion (get a hold of yourself—this is the legal field, not a sports field!) and the next, it was out of your sight, replaced by arms wrapped around your figure.

"itto! for goodness sake- the police aren't out to get you!" a green-haired woman was quick to appear, an irk mark appearing at her forehead at the scene that just played before her.

"c'mon, shinobu! you never know!" the tall man who she was referring to simply scoffed, already armed with another chair.

"well, with that logic, you shouldn't be trusting us either," she rolled her eyes, ignoring 'itto's' protests and focused her attention towards the entrance. you were quick to notice that these two voices didn't match up with the first one you've heard. "and heizou... what did i say about hugging up on our new workers?!"

you looked to the side, finding a young, maroon-haired man who's arms were loosening from your body as he raised his hands up. "aww, but shinobu... i was only trying to protect them... and think about it this way, it was only an orientation for our precious, new attorney!"

"yeah, an orientation at hr and filing a harassment lawsuit," she grumbled under her breath and pinching her nose as she fixed up her mask. "now, don't you have a job to do?"

"it's my break, remember-?"

"the break that lasted for half of your working hours? i'm sure i do... just get back to your office," the woman sighed, shaking her head once 'heizou' started to go along his way. "i'm sorry about those two... my name is kuki shinobu, i work in human resources."

slightly surprised by how quickly she got over this little spat, you reached to shake her extended hand. "ah, it's uh- nice to meet you."

though her mask obstructed most of her face, you could tell by her violet eyes that she was grinning. however, this expression was short lived once she dusted herself off a bit, going behind you to grab the thrown chair resting on the ground. "unfortunately, we can't give you a proper orientation, but i'll send you on you way to yanfei to explain everything—oh, speak of the devil."

at the moment, you followed shinobu's line of sight to find a pink-haired woman strolling by with enormous books, binders, and piles of paperwork in her grasp. you couldn't help but feel a small shiver up your spine: if this is what you'll deal with everyday, working here might infringe on your labor rights.

a little too focused on heaving her pile of work, shinobu cleared her throat to attract her attention.

"ah- hi there!" she greeted, somehow not stumbling when a book on top of her stack started slipping. once she found a nearby desk, she was swift to set everything there, evening out the pile while she was at it. "you must be our new attorney! i'm yanfei, i'm a legal advisor here (and hopefully future co-worker!), and i believe that you already have your first case!"

first job? on you first day? you were only in the general vicinity of this firm for sub 5 minutes at most—you didn't even receive your i.d. badge!

"here... it's nothing major. our boss may believe in throwing someone out into the professional world to see how they fare, but it's not like they're a sadist!" yanfei's words didn't exactly help your shocked state as she beckoned you towards the desk she set her paperwork on top of, pre-laid manila folders sitting before you. "as you can see... we're slightly understaffed here... but think about it as your unauthenticated orientation! you receive experience, and we keep our heads above the water for the time being!"

you've only been here for a short fraction of time compared to many of your new colleagues and barely even started your new job, yet you're already way in over your head! regardless, it wasn't like you've had a choice right now...

you glided your fingers across the folders spread across the table, and eventually, you decided to sift through the contents, glossing your eyes over the words before closing it and moving on to the next file.

with a deep sigh, you decide to...

↳ pick up the folder blatantly labeled "itto's case." it took you a good few minutes to decipher it with the abhorrent handwriting.

↳ shift your gaze towards the file that's noticeably lacking in papers compared to the older folders.

↳ hold the case that caught your eye, checking it once more to see if your eyes were deceiving you. there was no way this person was going to court...

↳ remember seeing the fatui head's name pop up in one of the files, you grab it quickly to check through it again. wait... you're defending him?!

↳ not even bothering to look at folders for a second time, you turn on your heel to walk past shinobu and yanfei, heading to the exit.

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐫? 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞! <𝟑

[autumnalwalker]

Seven Snippets Seven People (Part 1)

Thank you for the tag, @mysticstarlightduck.

I've actually had two of this tag game sitting in my Drafts for a while now, and given what I just wrote last night for Chapter 21 of Empty Names I thought it might be fun to combine them a bit. This most recently written bit was basically one long sequence of Eris tripping out and losing her sense of self due to exposure to a Lovecraftian eldritch entity and experiencing warped hallucinatory versions of old memories that have either happened or been referenced earlier in the story.

So I thought it would be fun to put all those scenes back-to-back with the earlier parts that they're referencing.

But before I get started, softly passing the tag to @talesofsorrowandofruin, @druidx, @emeraldmew, @oh-no-another-idea, @ceph-the-ghost-writer, @theimperium, @acertainmoshke, and the usual open tag for anyone else who wants it.

(And here's the link to Part 2)

(Content Warning for some violence and mild body horror.)

Starting off with a conversation between Eris and Gretchen (her ex) a bit before this whole sequence starts:

“I’m sorry,” Gretchen says.  “Like you said, I wasn’t really myself when I was going on like that.”

“No, you weren’t.”

“It’s just… You know what it’s like.  The rush, the thrill, the anticipation.  The drumbeat in the back of your head that seems too loud to be simply your own heart.  The electric tingle down your spine that spreads through your whole body.  The way smell and taste start blurring together and your other senses all start feeding each other so that the whole world seems more.  The craving.  The memory of blood’s viscosity and the way a drop’s trail down the back of your hand catches on all the little hairs and gathers in the pores and creases.  The constant knowledge of how good the climax of the hunt feels.  Has felt.  Will feel next time.”

“I do.  All the more reason for you not to go in there.”

“It’s like that all the time now.  Even basking in that moment right after a kill it only ebbs away to a murmur.  It’s enough to make you think it might not be so bad if you never felt anything else.”

“Only ever feeling one thing?  Sounds like death to me, and I’d rather die as myself.”

Gretchen’s laugh is soft and bitter.  “You always say that.  Have you ever stopped to think that it might be becoming more yourself, not less?”

Now let us rewind a bit, back to the side story "There Are No Dogs In the Dog Park" with a scene from the POV of a werewolf being helped through her first transformation by Eris:

Howling.  All around her.  Inside her.  From her.  From her?

Lights growing so bright.  Nearly hurts. Colors warping draining distorting.  No more red.  No more green.  Wash of blues and yellows and grays. 

So loud.  Noises deafening.  Too much all at once.  Smells too.  So many.  So sharp.  Sickening. 

“She’s panicking!”

“First time’s always a trip.  She’ll get through it.”

Skin crawling.  Stretching.  Bones cracking, extending, filling in.  Doesn’t hurt but feels wrong.  Alien.  Itchy.  Where’s the mass coming from?  Can’t think about that.  Itches too much.  Outside and in.  Try to scratch.  Skin feels too soft.  Scratch feels too sharp. 

Look down.  Flinch back up.  Down again.  Arms covered in fur.  Hands end in claws.  Muscle growing as she watches.  She whimpers. 

“Sarah.  Sarah, look at me.”

Look up again.  Piercing eyes.  Solid face.  Holding her in place without touching.  An anchor. 

“You’re going to be alright.  Just breathe.  Take it slow.”

Nod.  Try to speak.  To say “okay.”  Hear a bark instead. 

Clap hands to mouth.  Hit her face too soon.  Mouth and nose are too far out.  Don’t think of the word for it.  Don’t make it real. 

Try to stand up.  Stumble.  Center of mass is all wrong.  Joints don’t bend right.  Body so heavy.  Struggle back up.  Look around.  Surrounded by wolves and things that are almost wolves but wrong.  Where is she?  How did she get here?

“Sarah…”

People here too.  Staring at her.  Why are they looking at her?  Please stop looking at her.  Go away.  Get away.  Need to get away.

“She’s running!”

“It’s fine!  She just needs time to work through it.  Follow but give her space!”

Keep moving.  Two legs?  Four?  Which works better?  Find a rhythm.  Pick up speed.  Just need to get away.  Can’t get away from herself.  Something wrong inside her.  Need to get it out.  Get it out!

Fence ahead.  Trapped.  In a cage.  Need to get it out.  Need to get out.  Need to escape. 

“She’s going for the fence!”

“Should I tranq her?”

“Jeez, calm down guys.  Don’t worry, I got this.”

Hand on the chainlinks, furry and clawed.  Is that really her hand?  Who else’s could it be?  Feels wrong.  What does right even look like?  Stop looking.  Just climb.  Pull to climb.  Pulling rips the metal away.  Breaks the links.  Snaps and pops hurt her ears.  Too loud.  Everything is too loud.  So strong.  Monstrously strong.  She’s a monster.  She’s a monster.  She’s -

“Sarah…”

Is that her name?  Is that her?

Turn around.  Someone right behind her.  Looks familiar.  Looks too small.  

“I know yer freaking out right now, but I’m going to need ya to get away from the fence.  Can’t have you getting lost out there.”

Solid presence.  An anchor.  Remember to breathe.  A hand extended.  Reach out to take it.

“That’s right.  Now let’s get you back to the others.”

Now then, let's us look at the nightmare version of that:

Eris is hunting.

A chill wind blows across a moonlit prairie.  The rush, the thrill, the anticipation, are almost too much to bear as she chases down a pack of lupine shadows.  One falls to a spear.  Another is caught by its tail and dragged to the ground.  A third turns and raises itself on two legs to face its hunter.  Its claws meet with only open air.  Her claws meet with its heart.

There is a disappointing lack of blood.  They are naught but shadows afterall.

The pack’s lone survivor sprints for the treeline, wild with fear, only to find a chainlink fence between itself and safety.  She is still half human, and her eyes are fully so when she looks back at her hunter.

There’s a name Eris should remember and call out at this part.  She doesn’t, but what does it matter?  It’s just a beast.

What was she hunting again?  It doesn’t matter.  It’s all just prey in the end.

The clock turns back to another conversation between Eris and Gretchen, reminiscing on old times:

Eris gasps in mock indignation.  “Me?  A menace?”

“You got an amusement park shut down.”

“Miraclezone Fun Park had already closed its doors for four whole days by the time we got there, thank you very much.  You know, on account of all the mysterious deaths that got our attention in the first place.”

“Maybe, but derailing a roller coaster so that it crashes into the middle of an amphitheater certainly didn’t help their odds of reopening once the weird ape spider things that were eating the night shift employees were dealt with.”

“Says the woman who decided to draw the beasts out by plugging her phone into the sound system, turning on all the stage lights, and doing a solo dance number without realizing how many there were infesting the park.  You’re lucky my aim was good enough to take out half of them when I landed.”

“More like you’re lucky I was fast enough to dodge that mess.  I’ll hand it to you though, you made one helluva first impression climbing out of the wreckage, ripping off one of the coaster’s safety bars one-handed and using it as a club to lay into the rest of the… what even were those things anyway?”

“Some alchemist’s escaped mad science experiments.  It was in the Crossherd papers a few days later when the guy got bagged for a gross violation of the Masquerade after the cops showed up and found a bunch of dead eight-legged monkeys.”  Eris shakes her head in exasperation.  “I still can’t believe we didn’t get caught for that.”

“Fitzy’s always been good at covering for his bar’s patrons.  It’s half the point of 121813.”  Gretchen pauses, searching her memory.  “That night was your first time there, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.  You offered to buy me a drink and I was too busy trying to hide the fact that my arm was broken to turn you down.”

“Your arm was broken?”

“And a few ribs.  Did something to my ankle too, but by that point I already had a good grasp on how fast I heal and I was trying to look cool for the chick who was killing rabid chimeras with a spear in time with the baseline on metal music blasting from stadium speakers.”

But this memory too can become twisted:

The chainlink fence rattles and shrieks when she tears it down and stalks between the support struts of the rollercoaster.  The drumbeat in the back of her head seems too loud to simply be her own heart.  Perhaps it is the music pounding from that amphitheater over there.  Eight-legged shadows leap from support strut to support strut and skitter along the tracks above.  What an annoyance, that noise is luring her prey away from her.  

A freezing from the spear, a few good kicks, and a mighty heave are all it takes to knock out the nearest pylon and set the entire rollercoaster around her crashing down.  The music of the collapsing metal all around her is enough to drown out the metal of the music from the amphitheater, but the drumbeat in her skull is louder still.

She steps on one of the wretched chimerical shadows trying to free itself from the wreckage as she stalks toward the alleyway behind the amphitheater.

Oh, yes, that’s right.  She’s hunting Gretchen.  The snake, the spider, her lioness.

A moment of comparative memory from Lacuna's POV, back in Chapter 10, in the wake of the team's first mission together as a group:

It is well and truly night by the time the two of them ascend the stairwell of their building.  Neither of them break the heavy silence as they pass Lacuna’s floor on by up to Eris’s together.  Lacuna strains to keep from grunting as Eris leans on her more heavily than she had been for the last ten minutes - ever since she started limping - while she fishes out her keys and opens the door to her apartment.  It’s Lacuna who quietly flips the lightswitch as they step inside and then gently shuts and locks the door behind them.

It’s not the first time Lacuna’s helped her friend to bed.  That had been about three months after meeting her, and had thoroughly killed the crush she’d had on her at the time but thankfully been too scared to confess.  The fact that Eris took to calling her “sis” not long after had nailed said crush’s coffin shut tight.  But in all honesty, she prefers their relationship this way.

It is however the first time Lacuna’s seen what got her friend into this state for herself.  Sure, even that first time Eris had regaled her with the dramatic tale of the monster hunt that left her tired enough and badly cut enough to ask for help getting home (that one had been something called a “hodag”), but she’d always found her friend already some distance away from wherever the battle had taken place, even on the night when she took Eris to Doc’s instead of home.  And even on that worst night, sitting in the waiting room of the clinic they met at, the reality of what her best and only friend does for fun never truly sunk in until now.

What was that first encounter that made Eris ask Lacuna to help her get home? It wasn't this. This is just a twisted shadow of that memory cut short...

The alleyway is awash with the scent of buzzard meat, skunk perfume, and pine scented car air freshener emanating from the dumpster at the far end.  An electric tingle runs down her spine and spreads through her whole body as she walks past the garbage truck that has taken her to so many trailheads with signs of new quarry within the dream-born city.  The shadow that erupts from the refuse is all horns, claws, spines, and teeth.  It is long enough to wrap itself around her, heavy enough to pull her down to the ground when it does, and vicious enough to keep wrestling with her even after she snaps off its saber fangs.

She recalls a dim memory that this thing once hurt her badly enough that she called for help to return to her home lair afterward.  The one who answered should never have had to see her like that.  She will make this shadow pay for that.

By the time she realizes the shadow is dead and gone, the pavement is shattered, the dumpster is rent in twain, and the engine of the garbage truck she was once responsible for is totalled.  There is no proper satiation to hunting shadows.  All chase and fight, but no release.  She retrieves her spear and vaults over the wall at the end of the alleyway.  Perhaps when she finds her true prey at the end of this she will bring satisfaction.

No, that’s not right, she’s supposed to be searching for Gretchen, not hunting her.

(Continued in Part 2)

[mortumslab]

Remembering to be Human - Chapter 9

One of my favorite chapters so far! Hope you enjoy it!

(I really wanted to post it, so here's a double-chapter day.)

And chapter 8:

Julia isn’t outside the containment room when you leave. The guard tells you she went upstairs a few minutes before you. You ride the elevator in a daze. Psychopathor knowing your identity doesn’t bode well, but you know Kurt Moran is a lot smarter than he ever lets on. His bloodlust gets him listed as a common monster, but he is one of Los Diabolos’ longest-running villains.

And Psychopathor is a much more well-connected monster than he lets on. You suspected the Directive’s initiative to take him down was spurred as much by his threat as it was by the Rat King. Your partner-in-crime had always seemed like a familiar creation, but until now it wasn’t clear. You are both natives of the Farm. This means that the Psychopathor’s information is invaluable. He knows about the connections you’ve been chasing.

The elevator dings and you follow the hallways back to the main break room. Steel is seated in a chair, browsing his phone. Drinking a protein shake. He looks up and nods towards Julia’s private office. The one that she claims is off the record. 

Knocking on the door you only hear muffled noises. A wet-sounding “Come in,” and you open the door. 

Julia is at her desk. She’s playing the televised funeral for you and Anathema. She rewinds it and then watches herself assault Vernon Brown. Then again. Tears coat her eyes. She doesn’t even bother to dab them. The file below her shows splotches. The file. Your autopsy. You can’t read her mind, but you know she hates herself for her stupid actions seven years ago. And maybe a year ago, you would have, too. But now all you have is compassion. Love for this woman. Love that you’re not sure how to express. You’ve never had this choice. You’ve never been given this option. There’s no one to mimic. 

So you do what Julia would do for you. You cross the room, and you throw your arms around her neck and straddle her. Face to face. The chair groans in protest, but your slender form fits nicely. You don’t usually take the initiative. But you’ve already broken all of your rules. Maybe those weren’t your rules. 

The sudden closeness seems to have startled her out of her crying, but she buries her face against your jacket. Muffling her voice in a cute way.

“I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. You couldn’t have known.” She couldn’t. You know she would have gone through hell, moved earth and sea to find you. Had she known you could be alive.

“I didn’t even let the poor bastard speak. He said something about there being a plot, and then I just hit him.” She sobs into your shoulder. You rub her back. Cooing like she did for you. “I was drunk. Again.”

Kissing her forehead, you hold her tighter. You know she’s drawing the same conclusions. She thinks she could have stopped you. Stopped all this. There’s no way she could have. The Farm would never have let you go. You were their tool. A really powerful, useful tool. 

“I could have saved you.” There it is. “I was never fast enough.” 

What? You look at her. Your head tilts in confusion.

“I reached for you. When you jumped. I was too slow.” Ah. You didn’t know that.

“You did?” Now you’re tearing up. Damn this woman for breaking every measure of your facade. Gone are the days of Sidestep’s stoicism. She may be the only one who can truly save you from whatever the Farm has planned. What they have planned for you. Because they’re not done with you yet.

“Of course I did!” She’s not angry at you, but the outburst shakes her from her sobs. She lifts you like a toddler and sets you on the desk in front of her. She starts to pace the room. “I… I dream about it every night. A nightmare. Either me falling or you. Never anything else. Except for the last few nights. I didn’t have that nightmare. Instead, I had a new one. One where you die because you lose yourself.” She might be yelling at you, but she’s angry with everything. Everyone. Herself. You. Society. 

You don’t know what to say. You can’t go back now. There’s too much at stake. You have to break the Farm. Destabilize. Destroy. Rebuild. How do you tell a woman who cares so much for you that you might have to die for a cause that’s larger than both of you?

“Julia, I… I can’t promise I’ll survive this. But I do know that what I’m doing… if I survive… we can live happier when it’s done. Together.” You’ve never thought or talked about a future with her. The developments this week have been too many. Too fast. But now is as good a time as any.

“We?” She sounds weak. Tired. Showing her age. Not the impervious Charge. The scared, broken Julia Ortega. The one who likely died the moment you did. Two ghosts, trying to find their former selves. Locked in purgatory. 

“We.” You close your eyes, rubbing your temples. When you look up again, she’s in front of you. Holding your hands in hers. “I need to do this. And it will require me to be dangerous. To take on enemies who could easily destroy me.” There’s no question, but she understands. At least one of you can read the other’s mind.

“Arya, I will never let you go again. Just let me fight by your side. If we go down, we go together.” She means it. And you can’t help it. You kiss her. Hard. You love her. And you’re still not sure how to say it.

Breaking the kiss, you whisper, “I wish I had known. Any of it. I would have come to you. I would have found you the moment I escaped the Farm. They…” But Julia quiets you with another kiss. Salty with the taste of tears. Someone’s tears. 

You hold each other for what feels like hours. Then, Julia lets go. Ready to move. 

“What did Psychopathor tell you after I left? 

You laugh. You’d almost forgotten in the time since. “He knows I’m Heartbreak.” 

Julia whips around, “What?” 

“Two things I figured out. First, it wasn’t hard to put together, from his perspective. The Rat King is telepathic. He’s a Farm experiment. Like me. Psychopathor is psi-sensitive, but not telepathic. And it’s not exactly like I was subtle with my name. Plus I resurfaced. You all put it together, too.” You pause and gather yourself. Calm. “Second, it means his information is good. Heartbreak is likely still alive. Or some version of her.”

“What does this mean, then? Who do we need to interrogate next?”

“I need to drop off these files for the D.A.” You have pretty hard evidence that there is collusion between San Francisco and Los Diabolos’ kingpins and the Mayor. “Then I need to interrogate Alvarez to figure out what she knows. I don’t think it’ll be much more than what Koch knew, but it’s worth a try.”

“Do you want my help?” She really, really wants to help.

“I could use an audience. Especially some time to monologue.” You smile. She loves drama.

“I can do that,” she takes your hand, kisses it gently, and then leads you from the office. 

Downstairs, the rest of the Rangers are milling around. Argent is watching a movie. Danny is reading a book and Steel is seated with his eyes closed. Napping? Probably not. 

Julia clears her throat, “Angie, could you—“

Argent flicks her hand and all four cameras in the break room power down. 

“Okay, thank you.” Julia sounds bemused.

“I’m going to go confront the mayor. With the information from Koch and Psychopathor, I will try and spread some doubt. Sow some chaos.” You say it with such seriousness that it almost sounds funny. Arya. The rabble-rouser.

“What do you need from us?” Danny shoots to his feet. His willingness to break the system is curious. You gently probe his mind. It’s a veritable mess of incongruities. Danny’s entire worldview has shattered. And he’s not even upset at you anymore.

“Someone to chase me off. I’ll confront the mayor and rough up some bodyguards. Then come in for clean up.” 

“Alright. We can do that.” Steel gets to his feet. “By the way, Blaze has found some further connections between the syndicates and the mayor. You might want to take this to the D.A. as well.” 

“Thank him for me. I hope he’s not working tomorrow?” 

“Not that I know of. But I don’t keep close tabs on him.” Slight awkwardness in Chen’s mind, but he’s always hard to read.

“Good. Then I’ll be off.” Nodding at each and at the back of Argent’s head. She makes a rude gesture, then follows it up with a wave.

Julia accompanies you into the elevator. She’s unusually quiet. The soothing buzz of her mind is becoming more and more like a soft blanket rather than a reminder of the Farm. 

“What’s up?” You break the silence.

“I hope we survive this.”

“Me too.” You smile at her, leaning in to kiss her cheek. She goes a touch pink. Difficult to identify on her bronze skin.

The doors open to the lobby. And then she pulls you into a kiss. Deep. Loving. Then she shoves you through the open elevator. You whirl around in time to catch a blown kiss as the doors close once more.

Idiot. Loveable idiot.

That Evening.

Confronting the mayor will be an all-day affair. Not to mention, you’ve already gotten into a fight today. Tonight, you’re participating in your favorite part of crime and villainy: robbing criminals. A wholly cathartic release of aggression. You get some money. Some money ends up in a Los Diabolos charity. Everyone wins. Except for Overlord. Overlord never wins. 

A low-level telepath, Overlord uses crudely performed manipulation to garner capital. If your telepathy is a precision scalpel wielded by the world’s greatest surgeon, Overlord’s telepathy is a comically large mallet wielded by a toddler. However, it works sometimes. And you’ve left him alone for the time being - but now he’s terrorizing citizens.

Are you a hero? No. You aren’t. Heroes don’t brutalize others. Vigilantes might. But your wrath ignores borders. Ignores labels. What society calls them is moot. Your judgment is swift and painful. Leaving broken bodies in its wake. And you’ve been looking forward to letting go. 

You count ten henchmen. Each is wielding some low-class mod. And Overlord himself has telepathic elements that won’t work on you. You’re a god amongst telepaths. 

Ego. Where has this come from? Julia?

You shake your head. Clearing thoughts of Julia. You need to be Heartbreak tonight. Your HUD marked the henchmen as they entered the warehouse. Using the telepathy boost in your suit, you pinpoint each in their respective positions. Time to do this. Loud. 

In a cliche show of force - one Heartbreak is known for, according to the fan sites - you retrofitted the surrounding buildings with nano-speakers. The collective reverberations of the little devices somehow produce sound in a way even your tech-oriented brain doesn’t understand. Thankfully, Mortum does. So, it’s time to play an anthem. True villain style.

As you click play on the playlist, you both see and feel the henchmen below and Overlord freeze. Panic suffuses them. Heartbreak descends.

The first three Henchmen go down before they’re even aware the threat is in the building. Your body weight and shattered glass incapacitated the first, and your kick sent the second over the railing, where he landed with a crunch on a shipping crate. Still alive, the Rat King informs you. The third runs at you and in a true Heartbreak fashion, your first punch lays him out. The next several leave him barely alive. Barely is good enough for you. 

Grappling a rafter, you swing into the next group. These four seem to be equipped with a mixture of boosts and mods. It hardly matters to you. Your high spinning kick sends the first flying into and through several wooden crates. You suspect boosts of durability and density made that the spectacle it was. The next two run at you together. Smart. They’re both outfitted with ranged mods. The first run and guns and the second goes for melee. You catch the fist and use his momentum to swing him into the incoming projectiles. It hardly does any damage, but the scream you hear as he ragdolls into a storage unit does. It even leaves a dent. You don’t hear the panicked yells of his allies because you’re laughing. Laughing because this feels good. Because Sidestep could never do this. Because this week has been out of your control. Here. Here, you are conducting the symphony of chaos. 

The final goon in this squad goes down with a solid crunch. His nose is severely broken, but you’re not finished. Oh, no, you’re enjoying this. You grab his arm and twist. The resounding crack and muffled scream send shivers down your back. 

Three goons left, then the man of the hour. Thankfully, you don’t have to look for them. They were gracious enough to come to you. The two henchmen, who appear to be more durable than the others, run at you… then you see red. Because these two can handle it. You don’t hear the screams. The music. Your own heartbeat. Heartbreak. The scourge of Los Diabolos.

You blink. Your armored fists drip with blood and viscera. The two below you moan in pained agony. Their faces aren’t really recognizable. You like it that way. You left them alive; that’s all they deserve.

Overlord wears a mask. But his mind is reeling. Horror. Fear. Of you. 

“Good evening!” You sound chipper. Your modulator makes you sound slightly manic. Maybe you are.

“Kneel.” His pathetic attempt at telepathy. You break into laughter. Belly laughter. Only something Julia could get out of you. No, stop. Don’t think about her right now. Your mind reels from two versions of you. Arya and her weakness. Heartbreak and her cruelty. And for a moment it feels like you might crack. Then, the Rat King manages to soothe you. Chittering brings you back to your senses.

It all happens in the course of a moment, but Overlord seems to believe his telepathy worked. Your hesitation emboldened him. Wrong move.

In a flash, your hand is at his throat. Your enhanced strength lifts him far off the ground. Your height is always an advantage. 

For a moment you want to kill him. Only a moment. But you simply throw an elbow. Then he falls unconscious to the ground. 

“Rosie, I need a truck. We’ve got a nice haul. And maybe call in some favors for shipping. I think there’s some good stuff in here.” 

With the music off now, you can hear the glorious cacophony of pained groans. The ten henchmen lay in various states of disrepair. Some of them will likely be on respirators for months. It feels good. This is what happens when the Farm fucks around. They’re going to find out soon. You’ll show them.

“Holy shit, boss.” Lost in thought, you don’t notice Rosie approaching. Focus. 

“Needed to get some frustrations out.” You say nonchalantly. You didn’t even take a single hit. The bullet that caught your helm never left a mark.

Rosie knocks on the van, and your crew gets out and starts to load cash from the warehouse. A motley crew of trusted deplorables. People who were properly vetted and have never taken a life. Perfect for acts of retribution. They look at the assorted mess with pained expressions. Few of them have seen your handiwork. Usually, you work alone. Or with Rosie.

Then you hear the sounds of sirens. Good. Press.

“Get out of here and meet me back at base.” You say to Rosie. She nods and ushers the crew back to the van. It’s out of the building and trailing down the road before the LDPD arrives. 

A media helicopter hovers around 100 yards up. And the LDPD roll into view.

“Please exit the building with your hands up.” Oh? They don’t know who did this. Time to enlighten them once more.

Using the speakers in the vicinity, your voice booms.

“Officers! It is I, Heartbreak. Allow me to lead you to ten henchmen who you will find all have rap sheets longer than my own. And you’ll find a fellow villain, Overlord. The money he has so graciously donated to me will be dispersed to charities, as per usual.” You know the anonymity from your last donation was for naught. Might as well lean into it.

“Heartbreak, please exit the premises. The Rangers are on their way.” A bullhorn. Classic.

You exit the building but using telepathic bursts, those with guns drop them as though they were scalding hot. Perception is reality.

“I shall bid you all goodnight.”

Then, you drop a smoke pellet. The tear gas sends the officers running in the opposite direction. You misdirect the attention of those in the media chopper and dash back through the building. You find the motorcycle you arrived on, stashed behind a tree, and head towards the road. A successful venture.

The news is, of course, reporting on your escapades. You pull it up visor on your HUD. Carefully navigating through evening traffic, you listen to the report.

“Heartbreak once again leaves another villain begging for rescue. The masked villain claims to donate portions of their income to Los Diabolos charities. Something we will be checking into.”

Of course, they only ever care about the money. This city runs on greed.

“According to the LDPD, Heartbreak left ten known boosted mercenaries with severe injuries. No casualties, per Heartbreak’s usual performance.” 

You’re glad your no-kill policy is known. It helps spread the message. Though tonight’s theme was rage. 

“Then the villain left Overlord unconscious, absconding with what appears to be well into the millions in unmarked bills.”

The report continues, and you ignore it until…

“We have Charge and Marshal Steel here, who arrived on the scene moments after Heartbreak’s escape. Marshal Steel, what are you going to do about Heartbreak?”

Steel looks annoyed to be out this time of night.

“We have been closely following Heartbreak. Their base of operations is still unknown, as is their identity and capabilities.” He didn’t answer the question. Good man.

“Charge, do you feel as though Heartbreak’s actions here tonight are those of a villain?”

You glance up. Julia’s eyes look conflicted. She probably doesn’t know how to feel about the violence. 

“For now, we are treating Heartbreak as a threat. That is all I can say for now.”

You flick the broadcast off. Your penthouse comes into view.

Going up to your bedroom, you strip off the nanomesh. You’ll deal with the payment to the crew and charity tomorrow. For now, you need a good shower and time to think.

The water is warm. Nice. You don’t like the schism that happened out tonight. You don’t usually lose your head. Especially not as Heartbreak. And you thought you had figured out who you were, but thinking about Julia in the field was almost enough to break you. Break you how? It wasn’t a panic attack. It was more like something wanted out. Like you lost control of a caged beast. The beast wasn’t you. But it was inside you. It is inside you. Might be something to bring up with Julia. You should start trusting her more. She deserves it. You’re worried she may be shaken by your show of brutality tonight—

Noise. Someone’s in your penthouse.

“Arya?” 

Deep breath. It’s just Julia.

“In the shower.” You’re unsuccessful in hiding the panic. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” She appears in the bathroom door.

“It’s alright. Long night, a bit wired still.”

“So, tonight. That was new.” Oh, she wants to do this now. 

“Can I get out of the shower first?” You don’t wait for an answer. You shut off the shower and step out. Julia hands you your towel. You shiver slightly. More in anxiety than in cold. She notices.

She steps forward and hugs you. Kissing your wet ear. 

“You put ten men in the hospital. One of them is in the ICU. He’ll make it.” You don’t know why she’s telling you this. Your height puts you just slightly above her, but in her arms, you feel safer. Your posture slumps.

“Are you asking a question?” Your voice muffled with your face buried in her shoulder.

“I’m worried. About you.” She kisses the top of your head. “Heartbreak is known for that level of violence, but just seeing the carnage… and knowing who’s underneath.” The thought left unsaid. “There’s footage of the fight. The cameras in the building were on.” 

You didn’t know that. Your theatrics are usually for yourself. Rumors make you a legend. Rumors drive Heartbreak’s creed. Destabilizing the status quo.

“Oh.” 

“I watched it on the way over. You used music.” Humor in her voice. You relax slightly in her embrace. “And you annihilated those mercs.” 

“I learned from the best.”

She leads you from the bathroom. Watching as you get dressed. Pulling on a bra and shorts. Comfortable in your skin. At least with Julia watching.

“I didn’t teach you that.” She doesn’t sound upset. Still worried.

“I learned a few tricks.” With a sigh, you curl up on the bed. Cradling a pillow. It smells like Julia. 

She comes over to sit beside you. Rubbing your back. Your silvery hair is a wet mess. You’ll need to manage that before trying to sleep. If Julia stays the night, you might not need to use Eden. But otherwise, you’re not letting the nightmares get you. Not yet.

“Did you lose yourself?” She asks quietly.

“I am Heartbreak. Heartbreak is that extension of me that lets me do hard things. Things neither Arya nor Sidestep could do.” You don’t know where you’re going with this, but you suspect it’ll end in tears. You always cry around her.

She’s silent, waiting for you to continue.

“I thought about you. I don’t know if you saw when Overlord tried to use his shitty excuse for telepathy on me.” You see her smile. 

“I did; you looked like you were confused for a moment.”

A deep, calming breath. You feel the tears. “I was. But not because of him. Because I thought about you. My mind… it felt like it was going to fracture. Like I couldn’t reconcile what I was doing with me. With who… with Arya.” And the tears. 

“Oh, mi amor.” She leans over and cradles you, pulling you onto her lap. Your weight is nothing to her enhanced strength. 

You’re sobbing freely now. And only when you feel her starting to braid your hair do you start to regulate yourself again. 

“I hate existing.” Simple, the truth. Ugly. Still true.

Julia freezes for a moment. But recovers, still braiding.

“Is that why you pick large battles? Unfavorable odds?”

“Yes.” 

“You want to die?”

“I want the pain to end. The anger. The suffering. I hurt so badly.” Julia unlocks your fears. You want to be good enough for her. Confessing everything. Maybe it’s not fair. You’re a burden. 

“You’re not a burden.” Did you say that out loud? “I just don’t know how to help. And I’m not going to let you kill yourself. Indirectly or otherwise.” 

“So what? What do I do?”

“Finish what you started. And let me help this time.” You look up at her with bleary eyes. Your hair braided the way you like it. You didn’t even need to tell her.

“You have been helping. You’re helping right now.” 

“But you’re only letting me help after the fact. And I love being able to. You don’t know how many years I’ve dreamed of being able to do this. To cuddle you.”

“You’re too perfect. Too good for me.” You vocalize it this time. 

“No, I’m exactly what you deserve. Right now, you’re the mess. I’m sure I’ll be one soon enough.” She strokes your back. You’d fall asleep if you weren’t— “I heard that grumble. Good thing I brought you some food.” 

You ought to get used to being literally swept from your feet. Or from your fetal position, in this case. Yet you squeak when she plucks you from the bed. Clinging on for dear life you let her set you in a barstool in the kitchen.

She moves to the countertop and slides you two cartons. Chinese. The same place you both went when you were Sidestep. Looking at her with gratefulness that can’t be put into words, you devour the food. You were never very well-mannered when it came to eating. Julia seems to think it endearing. 

“Will you let me help, then?” 

“I’m not sure how.” You finally surface for a breath. “Or what you can do. I’m a villain. You’re not.”

“What if I become one?” You choke a bit on a noodle.

“What?” 

“I can wear a costume. A mask.” She’s serious.

“I…okay…I can figure something out. Mortum might be able to make you something. What about the Rangers?” 

“I can do both. I have no desire to keep working for this government. You being alive is enough. Enough to convince me. Enough for me.”

“I love you, Julia.” The only thing you can say.

“Let’s get you to bed. We can plan our villainy tomorrow.”

You sleep well. Curled in her arms once more. You might let yourself get used to this. Maybe.